Page 16 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Virgin (Auctioned Highland Brides #3)

Elinor remained standing before them, her hands still clasped behind her back.

“When did ye get out here?” Ciaran asked, his tone soft but laced with surprise.

He had only seen Jackson sneak out of the castle. He hadn’t seen her. That could only mean two things. She’d gone outside before them, or she was incredibly stealthy. He was leaning towards the former.

“I have an upcoming wedding to a man of great importance and a castle to manage after me first husband died. What, ye just thought I would be able to get some sleep simply because I’m a woman?”

“Nay, that isnae what I– ”

“Aye!” Jackson declared at the same time.

Ciaran turned to him.

“Ciaran, meet me braither, Jackson Lane. I am certain ye have absolutely nothing in common. How did ye manage a conversation with him?”

“It was a job for two people, Sister. I did all the talking, and he just sat there and listened, like a rock that can breathe.”

Ciaran chuckled.

“Did I mention that humor is his charm?” Elinor continued.

“I can see that,” Ciaran answered.

“’Tis fine, Elinor. It wasnae like we were talking about ye or anything. Just issues a man should discuss with another man. Like the best blade to shave me beard, how to go longer than twenty minutes at once, and—oh, right, me favorite kill.”

“I was listening to both of ye from the beginning,” Elinor muttered, her dull tone indicating that she wasn’t impressed enough to care in the first place.

Ciaran grinned. So he was right. She had been outside the whole time. She had not sneaked out after him.

Part of him wondered how deeply all of this bothered her if she thought of seeking refuge under the stars earlier than he did.

“Oh,” Jackson murmured in a mock-defeated voice. He turned to Ciaran, his hands raised in surrender. “I tried everything I could, Braither.”

“Go to yer room, Jackson,” Elinor huffed.

Jackson nodded. “Ye daenae have to worry about me. A man can always tell when he is nay longer wanted.”

He retreated, and Ciaran watched him make his way back to the castle.

“He is quite sharp,” he remarked.

Elinor could tell that he could not keep that compliment to himself for much longer.

“And just as annoying,” she added. “Ye cannae sleep, can ye?”

He shrugged in response.

“Come with me,” Elinor said and turned around, also heading back to the castle.

Ciaran was rooted to the spot, his brow furrowed, wondering where she was going.

Was she heading to her bedroom? No, that was too early. Based on what he knew about her so far, she would not want to sleep with him anytime soon. Not even after the wedding. And he was fine with that.

At least as much as a man could be fine with it.

Elinor looked over her shoulder at him. “Do ye want me to roll out a special mat for ye?”

Ciaran shook his head and followed right behind her.

The road back to the castle felt longer for some reason. Denser winds blew across the courtyard, and he knew if he spent more time out there, he would likely freeze to death. So he followed her, their footsteps echoing in the dark night.

Elinor stepped into the castle first, and he walked in right after, tailing her and inadvertently counting her footsteps even though he did not mean to.

She led him up two flights of stairs. The air was better above. It always had been; Ciaran should have known that.

Elinor should not need to come out of the castle for fresh air. She could get as much as she wanted by her window or on the little terrace a few stairs ahead. Whatever was bothering her had driven her to leave the confines of the castle.

“Ye have all the air ye want up here. Why bother coming down in the first place? ‘Tis such a long journey, too.”

“Well…” Elinor rounded a sharp bend in the passageway, and Ciaran did the same. “Sometimes I like to remind meself that I am free now. That I can go anywhere I want instead of being holed up in me room all day like before.”

“Before,” Ciaran repeated, testing out the word. “Does this have anything to do with what Jackson told me? The shock from yer previous marriage and how I may overwhelm ye?”

They stopped before a door.

Elinor turned to him. “Perhaps.”

She pushed the door open. It gave way with a low creak, and she stepped inside. Ciaran followed, the smell of damp walls suddenly replaced by the smell of papers and books that had not been opened in quite a while.

The room seemed to stretch out for almost a mile. He couldn’t see the dark end of it, but he could see the dusty books on shelves that lined the walls. Three candles flickered from separate corners of the room, and one stood a little close to the desk that Elinor made her way to.

Parchment and scrolls were scattered across the desk, and the sight of them alone made his nostrils flare. Elinor settled behind the desk and braced her knuckles on the stack of parchment.

“This study used to be reserved for me previous husband. Nay one could walk in here. Nae even the maids could come in to clean it,” she explained.

Ciaran watched her rifle through the papers before pulling out another big scroll of parchment. He knew what it was—a map of the Highlands.

“He was an avid keeper of maps,” Elinor continued.

She spread out the paper on the desk, but Ciaran continued studying her. She had this sadness on her face that seemed to grow every time she talked about her husband. At first, he had thought it was a coincidence, but after witnessing it over and over, he now knew for certain that it wasn’t.

“I reckoned since none of us can sleep, we can begin discussing the relocation of yer people.”

She grabbed a short stick that had been sharpened well enough for pointing and threw it at him. He caught it with ease, and she pulled out another one.

“What about this area?” she asked, pointing to a path by one of the largest rivers in the Highlands. “Last I heard, it was still unoccupied. It has water and the best shield for sunlight, should ye want it.”

Ciaran eyed the map for a moment. “It would have been the perfect spot if nae for the river.” He dragged his stick along the river.

“See how the water flows to a larger river. That will pose a problem in the future once the clan begins to grow. This is merely a short-term solution, and that is what I have been operating on for the past few months. I need something more permanent, if ye daenae mind.”

He dragged his stick from the river to a spot that seemed to be a stretch of land with no borders.

“What about this?” he asked. “The land looks solid enough, and the river doesnae look too far, at least if the scale is accurate. There’s also a castle just a few miles ahead of us. That would make for a good community, would it nae?”

Elinor laughed. “That isnae just any castle. That is MacDaniel Castle. I hear that Laird MacDaniel is as dangerous as they come. He hates anything that remotely looks like a challenge to his power. Settling in this piece of land would look like a threat. He probably would issue a warning if it were any other clan, but the Hound’s clan?

He would send his men in the middle of the night.

Ye may survive an attack, but will yer people? ”

Ciaran sighed. “So that is out of the question as well.”

“Believe me, I ken a few things about men in power. Murdock was one, and I witnessed how violent he got when he felt that his power was being challenged.”

Ciaran tore his eyes away from the map and looked at her. “What happened? In yer marriage with him, I mean.”

Elinor laughed, but he could see it again, even though she was trying to hide it—the sadness that hung over her like a dark cloud.

“I daenae ken if I would call it a marriage. It was more like a kidnapping. Murdock snatched me from me home a little over three years ago. Brought me here just for the sole purpose of producing an heir. And he wanted the most fertile lass, of course. Everyone had heard of our ‘blessing.’ I tried to escape once and he almost killed me. So I decided to stay put. It was better to stay alive and wait out the days than die while trying to escape at every given opportunity.”

Ciaran shuffled his feet. He could feel heat simmering in his blood.

“The bastard wasnae just awful,” Elinor continued, her fingers tightening around the stick in her hand. “He was one of the most monstrous beings to ever walk God’s green earth.”

The stick snapped in her hand, jolting her out of her reverie.

Ciaran narrowed his eyes at her. He had expected her to recount her experience with tears and loud sobs. Instead, she was angry, immensely frustrated, and it was written all over her face. She was his bride, after all.

“He tried every possible way to control me. Forbidding me to leave the castle, forcing our maids nae to talk to me. He always read the letters me sisters sent me first, and he always checked what I wrote back. If he wasnae happy with it, he burned it. When he found out Anna and I had created a code, he forbade me to write for months. Wanted to drive me crazy with loneliness, hoping I’d seek him out.

When he realized those methods didnae work, he got more… creative.”

Ciaran could tell she was trying to keep her voice steady.

He wanted to move closer and hold her. Tell her that she could scream if she wanted because she had earned it after enduring such hardship for three whole years.

“His latest success was withholding me meals. He would deliberately starve me, hoping that it would force me to invite him to me bed. The bastard really thought that hunger would make me want to sleep with him.”

Ciaran shuffled his feet again, his anger bubbling beneath the surface.

He didn’t even know he had balled his hands into fists until much later when he looked down and saw his veins bulging in his arms. A part of him felt like he absorbed some of the anger with her.

That was why she was able to speak as calmly and gracefully as she did now.

“When I found out he died, I smiled,” she admitted. “And it was probably the first smile I had in years. I was free of him. I could now escape. Sometimes it is hard for me mind to process it, so I leave me room and go outside. Like I did earlier.”

Ciaran clenched his jaw, each word landing like a blow, one after the other. She had been through a lot, and it was clear from the way she tried to avoid going into too much detail that it was overwhelming. He understood Jackson’s words now.

This is the first time she has felt safe in years.

“Let’s hope history willnae repeat itself, M’Laird.”

Silence fell over the study for a minute. Ciaran’s eyes darted to the far side, where the shelves stretched out to no end.

His respect for Elinor had suddenly grown tenfold. He admired her even more, not for what she had gone through but how she had handled what happened after. Not only did she gain her freedom, but she also became the sole leader of her clan. She was also able to do it with such grace and elegance.

Ciaran could tell the servants loved her. He saw it when they had both returned from the cabin after the storm. He saw the relief on their faces when they realized she was still alive. And here.

But what she had been through…

“I wish I could have killed him for ye, lass. I wish I could have set ye free before ye suffered all of this. I’ll kill anyone who tries to steal the light from yer eyes again,” he promised.

Elinor blinked, as if snapping out of a memory, and gave him a nod, but offered no reply. She cleared her throat and shifted her attention back to the task at hand.

“What about this patch of land here?” Elinor asked, taking the broken stick and placing it on a stretch of land just a few miles ahead of Castle MacAdair. “Nay clan has been able to claim it because they were afraid of him. Now that the clan answers to me, I can do whatever I want with it.”

Ciaran looked at it. It was close enough to the castle and wasn’t far from running water.

“Are those trees?” he asked, gesturing at a wave of sticky drawings by the edge of the water.

Elinor looked down at it and then looked back up at him. “Ye’ll have to see it with yer own eyes. I cannae tell.”

It was perfect.

“And ye daenae have to worry about what happens when yer clan grows. The land is much bigger when ye see it in person,” Elinor assured him.

Ciaran nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face.

“I suppose all that searching has tired me. I shall retire to me room now, if ye daenae mind,” Elinor said, looking less lively than he had ever seen her. One might think she was just tired, but he knew it was more than that.

“I meant what I said, lass. I would have killed him for ye,” Ciaran muttered, just as she rose to her feet.

Elinor shot him a curious look.

“Nay woman should go through what happened to ye.”

She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then met his gaze with a determined look.

“Thank ye for yer concern. This is why we need to get married as soon as possible. I just escaped a dreadful marriage with Murdock and managed to anger over twenty lairds when we returned from the cabin. I’m nae safe while I’m single.”

Ciaran nodded, watching any vulnerability vanish from her face like smoke beneath leaves.

She truly wanted this done soon while she still had control. A part of him hated that she had been conditioned to think like that, and he hated even more that she was right. She was in danger.

“I will never let anyone put that look in yer eyes again.”

Elinor laughed. He couldn’t tell if she appreciated the promise or if she was just masking the pain she felt inside.

“As long as ye’re nae the one to put the look in me eyes, I am nae exactly worried.”

She didn’t wait for him to respond before walking to the door. When she put her hand on the handle, she turned back to him, a look of resignation on her face.

“Goodnight, Ciaran.”

He nodded. “See ye tomorrow morning, Elinor.”

Elinor stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving him alone.

Ciaran took one final look at the parchment scattered across the desk, at the shelves that seemed to stretch into darkness, and the flames consuming the wicks of the candles.

“I hope ye rot in the deepest parts of hell, ye bastard,” he muttered to the room.