Page 30 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Virgin (Auctioned Highland Brides #3)

“Aye, I’ll be fine,” she replied.

“Ye can go right after him. I shall draw ye one as well.”

Elinor clasped the older woman’s hands. “Ye’re too kind, Flora.”

Ciaran stepped away, leaving the women to themselves.

“Ye must be the luckiest woman in the world,” Flora murmured, pulling a stool from a corner. “Marrying a man like Ciaran Brooks.”

Elinor gave her a grateful smile and slowly sank onto the stool. “I daenae ken about luck anymore, after seeing that.”

Flora smiled. “Young lady, I have been in this world for quite some time. I ken terrible people, believe me. And I ken good people. Ciaran is as good as they come. His heart has always been in the right place.”

“How can the heart of a man like the Hound be in the right place?” Elinor asked, her doubt plain.

Flora smiled, then she cleared her throat and began to speak.

“I had a friend back in Castle MacGee. Sarah. She lived a rather difficult life. One day, we were talking about food and how she had none. How she would starve for the rest of the week with her little son. Quite a young lad as well. Ciaran had ridden past us that afternoon. We didnae ken that he heard us. We didnae even stop him and ask him for anything. That evening, Sarah and her son had food delivered in bulk to their house. Of course, it took me a while to find out who sent it. But I did. And it turned out to be him.”

Elinor smiled.

“At the end of every week, Ciaran would deliver food to Sarah’s house so she and her little boy could fill their bellies. Sarah desperately wanted to repay him for his kindness, but he wouldnae accept anything from her. Nae a single dime. So she gave him the next best thing—her son.”

Elinor’s eyebrows flew up in surprise.

“Aye. Asked him to train the lad so he could learn how to fight like the Hound. Ciaran agreed and trained the boy. He molded him into a brave man. One capable of protecting people even in Ciaran’s absence.”

The realization hit Elinor faster than the growing evening cold. “Fergus.”

Flora nodded. “Aye.”

Elinor smiled.

“When he split from his braither, Fergus was the first to say he would go with him. Then, people followed. Ye see, lassie, Sarah wasnae the only one Ciaran was kind to. Every single person ye see here today followed him, despite kenning what he is, because he cared for them. Ciaran never joked about the people he cared about. And that includes all of us today. And ye.”

Flora grabbed her hands. “Do ye nae see? He killed that man for ye. To protect and defend ye . And the rest of us, certainly. But it was ye who came to his mind first. I saw it.”

She paused, letting the silence settle over them.

“That man will nae only die for ye,” she eventually continued, “but he will also kill for ye. So I truly meant what I said earlier. Ye must be the luckiest lass in the world, marrying a man like Ciaran Brooks.”

Elinor swallowed, feeling the tears well up in her eyes as Ciaran returned from his bath, his hair damp and his eyes curious.

“What is going on?” he asked, his eyes darting between them.

Elinor looked up at him and then back at Flora, giving her a secretive smile. “Nothing.”

Her response was smooth. Something about Ciaran’s expression told her he didn’t believe her, but he did not push.

“I shall draw a bath for ye as well,” Flora said, rising to her feet and gesturing for Ciaran to take her place. Then, she headed to the bathing chamber and closed the door behind her.

“Ciaran,” Elinor murmured, her voice soft.

Ciaran gave her a brief nod in response.

“Quite an eventful day, will ye nae say?”

He nodded again.

Elinor thought back to what Flora had said to her.

If she was being honest with herself, she had seen brief glimpses of his caring nature now and then.

In the cabin, in the way he had listened attentively when she had spoken about Murdock, and in the way he refused to touch her unless she expressly agreed.

Deep down, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, she fully trusted this man. She believed whatever he said, and she knew that he was well aware of that.

So why wouldn’t these haunting thoughts let her go? If he had not killed Jamie, a man he used to be friends with, she would probably be injured by now. Or worse.

“Are ye certain ye daenae have any injuries?” Ciaran’s flat voice broke through her thoughts.

Elinor shook her head. “None that I am aware of.”

They remained silent for a long while.

Elinor wrung her fingers while Ciaran stared off into space. She desperately wanted him to say something, anything, but he stayed quiet the entire time.

The silence was growing unbearable, and she didn’t know how long she could take it.

But then the door to the bathing chamber clicked open, and Flora stepped out. “The bath is ready for ye, M’Lady.”

Elinor rose, swallowing down the unsaid words, hard. Now wasn’t the time to broach the subject. They had just survived an attack. Chances were they would survive a lot more. Or die one of these days.

The water was cold against her skin—perhaps exactly what she needed to quell her worries.

Had she lost her mind? How did she let things get this far with him? Of all the people who could have won her heart at the auction, it had to be the one person she had initially thought would not have the qualities she was looking for. The irony was not lost on her. Not even a single bit.

She splashed water across her face and rubbed her closed eyes. Images of Ciaran wielding his sword flashed through her mind. Images of him driving it down, of the look on his face when blood sprayed across his cheek.

She needed to do something. What that thing would result in was still up in the air, but she knew she could not keep this going.

Not for much longer.

Ciaran entered the room first, his eyes darting around.

The walls were dull grey, as if they had not been painted in years.

Someone had indeed made an effort to clean the room; he could see it.

The silvery moonlight illuminated a speck of dust on the windowsill.

The floor smelled a bit damp, like it had been washed a few hours ago. The bed was well-made.

At least Elinor would appreciate that, if nothing else.

A rocking chair sat by the window, but there was no table. There was also no bathtub in the room. It made sense; this house was not built for a noble.

Elinor stepped in behind him, still squeezing water from her hair. Her eyes swept over the room, and he watched her take it in.

“Well, it could have been worse. We could’ve slept in a tent tonight,” she remarked, heading towards the bed.

“We could’ve died,” Ciaran emphasized.

“Oh, please,” Elinor huffed, sinking onto the edge of the bed. The cushions were soft, he could tell. “Ye could’ve killed the man with one strike if ye wanted to.”

“But ye couldnae have,” he pointed out, his face grim.

“But I didnae die. ‘Tis a good thing, is it nae?”

Ciaran nodded. “I shall keep watch tonight.”

Elinor eyed him narrowly, her blue irises darkening. “What are ye talking about?”

“I’m saying I’ll watch over ye.”

“Nay, ye cannae. Ye have to sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us tomorrow.”

Ciaran shrugged. “I’ve undertaken worse on less.”

Elinor tried to protest, but it was clear that his mind was already made up. He sat on the rocking chair while she made herself comfortable on the bed.

His eyes would remain on the door the entire night. He briefly turned his head to the window because the room was not high up in a tower, but the door was his major concern.

For some reason, Elinor’s soft breathing comforted him throughout the night as he kept watch. Not once did he feel the urge to sleep. He did, however, feel the urge to think .

This could not go on forever. He could not guard Elinor every single time he thought she was in danger.

What would happen when he went off to war?

What if he had an important meeting outside his clan and Elinor was home all by herself?

What if Thomas could not protect her in his absence, no matter how hard he tried?

Jamie’s words, right after he drove the blade into his chest, rang in his ears.

“Ye ken he’ll only send more people after ye, do ye nae? They’ll keep coming. Until ye remember where home is and return.”

Ciaran had no plans to return to Clan MacGee, so he would have to deal with the people Logan sent after him.

The thought of being too helpless to help Elinor seized him. What if one of the men Logan sent was strong enough to actually get to her? What would he do, then?

The chair creaked, breaking his train of thought for a brief moment.

He couldn’t call off the wedding. Not now.

Not after everything that had happened. Not after Elinor had been kind enough to let his people settle properly for the first time in almost a year.

He was certain that his clansfolk were grateful to her for it.

They had never looked happier than they did here. He could not take that away from them.

He had to do the next best thing—keep his distance. Even if the wedding took place, he would do it on his own terms.

He would protect her as much as he could.

“I will die before I let anything happen to ye,” he whispered, his eyes flitting to a peaceful Elinor.

Her chest rose and fell on soft breaths.

“I will,” he muttered, his voice hoarse.