Page 31 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Virgin (Auctioned Highland Brides #3)

Ciaran was awake when Elinor opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the window.

The morning light was only beginning to spill across the village. Then, her eyes shifted to the rocking chair, where Ciaran sat comfortably as if he owned the thing.

“Ye’re awake. Good. We need to go.” He rose to his feet.

Elinor yawned. “Ye could’ve just woken me, ye ken.”

“I will think about it next time.”

Flora and Fergus bade them goodbye, and soon, they were back on the road, riding back to the castle.

Unlike the previous day, the ride back passed so quickly. Perhaps it was because Elinor had been lost in thought, or because she had been absent-minded for almost the entire ride.

“Did ye really nae sleep throughout the night?” she questioned, her voice low.

“Nay,” Ciaran muttered. “Nae exactly.”

Elinor’s breath hitched slightly as they crossed the open field.

It was obvious from the way he had responded that he was not interested in having a conversation. What she did not know was whether this was going to be temporary or permanent.

Her eyes returned to the road. She saw marks she had not seen yesterday when they were on their way to the village.

There were deep ruts where a wagon had passed.

They moved forward, and she saw a few pairs of old footprints in the soft earth.

Then, she spotted two lines near the edge where something had been dragged off the path.

This must be a busy road.

She turned to Ciaran to relay this observation, but the look on his face told her all she needed to know—he was not interested. She looked ahead instead, ignoring the questions that bounced around in her mind.

They passed through a copse of trees and shrubs. Ciaran kept his silence through most of these parts, only telling her to watch out for something or the other once or twice.

When they came out again into open land, her shoulders relaxed.

The fields ahead stretched out as far as the eye could see.

The grass looked shorter here, pressed down in wide sections.

More vultures than she had seen before circled above, their wings catching the morning sun.

She saw them land near another carcass, this one too far to know if it was another deer or something else.

“Ye think that is another deer?” she asked anyway, ignoring the cold shoulder Ciaran had been giving her the entire time.

He shrugged. “It could be.”

That was it? That was all she would get?

A part of her wondered if he was like this only on long rides. That same part hoped that was the answer to all of this. Because the alternative was terrible, and she was not ready to face it yet.

They passed through another cluster of trees, the last one before they approached the castle.

There was nothing to see there except the occasional bunny hopping across the dry leaves and the wet, soft soil. They took a break to let their horses graze and drink, then resumed their journey.

The road straightened past a shallow rise. From the top, she could see the outline of the castle in the distance. The gray stone stood out against the sky, the walls marked by lines she had grown familiar with over the past three years. Those same lines marked the other side of the walls.

Her horse’s ears flicked forward as they crossed another stretch of grass where more bones lay scattered. Long ribs, the curve of a skull half buried in weeds.

She watched the birds rise as they approached, their dark wings flapping hard before settling behind them.

Finally, the gates came into view, only a few miles ahead of them.

“Welcome home,” Elinor muttered, almost to herself.

But she was almost certain that Ciaran had heard her.

“Welcome home.”

Ciaran heard her but said nothing in response.

He had been plagued with even more thoughts of protecting her since they had left the village. Even now, as they crossed the field towards the castle, a thousand scenarios bounced around in his head.

Who was to tell that more of Logan’s men were not in the castle now, just lying in wait?

“Ye make a terrible travel companion. Have ye ever been told that?” Elinor asked, prompting him to turn to her.

“Once or twice,” he responded, trying to smile.

She only nodded and returned her gaze to the road.

He studied her. The way her hair shimmered in the sun. The way her face was slowly regaining its color. The way her hands gripped the reins, like she was not planning to let go any time soon.

They entered the courtyard and were immediately welcomed by the maids and the stable boys, who took the reins of their horses.

Ciaran dismounted first and helped Elinor down. They walked into the castle, but Elinor was immediately accosted by Katherine and Anna, who seemed like they had been waiting in the Great Hall forever. She turned to him, a question in her eyes. He nodded, and she walked into the hall with them.

He made his way up the stairs; he had more things to do anyway.

He stopped a maid walking past. “Where can I find Thomas?” he asked.

She looked up at him, and he could see the red hue spreading across her cheeks. Nothing about his question warranted that reaction.

She pointed to the nearest door, curtsied, and scurried away. Ciaran followed her directions and found himself standing in front of a mahogany wooden door.

It was closed. He pushed it open anyway and was relieved when it gave way. However, his relief quickly turned into shock.

Thomas was in the room, on the bed, naked as the day he was born. His eyes landed on Ciaran, and he shot up, scrabbling for the covers.

“M’Laird,” he sputtered, yanking the covers around himself. “I didnae ken ye were here already.”

It clicked like a set of metal gears in Ciaran’s head. The maid’s flushed face when he asked about Thomas.

Because she just left his room.

“I need yer help,” he muttered, shoving away all other thoughts out of his mind.

“Uh, can ye just let me put on some…”

Ciaran looked around and spotted a pair of dark trousers on the floor. He grabbed it and threw it at him.

“I need to put some extra measures in place to protect Elinor,” he continued.

His eyes flicked to the window as Thomas rose from the bed to put on his trousers.

“What kind of measures?”

“I need ye to station a few guards outside her door at night.”

“Nay,” Thomas uttered. He fastened his trousers and finally turned to Ciaran. “I cannae do that.”

“I ken ye care greatly about her– ”

“I do. That is why I cannae station guards outside her door.”

“I am giving ye an order, Thomas.”

“And I am refusing it.”

“Why?” Ciaran asked, his voice rising.

Thomas took a few steps towards him. “Because that was what he did. Stationed guards outside her door all day and all night so she couldnae escape.”

Ciaran felt his heart sink into his stomach.

Oh.

Oh.