Page 41 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Virgin (Auctioned Highland Brides #3)
THREE YEARS LATER
Elinor leaned back in the high-back chair, her eyes fixed on the sight before her. The gallery smelled of varnish and wood, a combination that made her stomach turn and her throat constrict in utter disgust. She couldn’t leave, though. Not for a little while.
Her hand rested on the swell of her belly. The baby in there shifted in a slow, rolling stretch that made her suck in a sharp breath. She slid her palm further down her belly in a bid to soothe the baby and herself.
“Ma, why is yer stomach moving?” Ewan, one of the twins, called out, a look of utter horror on his face as his eyes darted from her belly to her face.
“‘Tis because yer little sister wants to come out and play with ye soon,” Elinor responded calmly.
“I daenae think I want to play with her if she’s hurting ye like that,” Isla, the other twin, muttered.
Unlike Ewan, Isla was more reserved and felt things more deeply. She must have caught the brief look of distress that crossed Elinor’s face the instant the baby kicked.
“Ye ken, ye can just tell them that the baby willnae play with them if they daenae sit still.” Anna’s voice cut through the figurative tarp she must have wrapped around her and the twins.
Elinor’s eyes snapped up, but Ciaran, who had rested his hands on the back of her chair, spoke before she could open her mouth.
“Ye want us to scare the children with talk like that?”
“Yer children are growing.”
“They arenae even two yet.”
“Never too late to start anything.”
Elinor laughed. On her lap, the twins squirmed like pups trapped for too long. Ewan tugged at the edge of her sleeve, while Isla tried to lean over the arm of the chair to see what Anna was doing.
“How much longer do ye think this is going to take?” Elinor asked, watching Anna dip her brush into a jar of red paint.
They had been sitting there for the better part of two hours, and Elinor could no longer feel her back.
Ewan pulled harder at her sleeve, his impatience just as evident.
“If ye want a treat after this session, ye have to sit still,” Elinor murmured.
Isla turned her bright blue eyes to her, a sly look on her face. She had the same mischievous expression as her father; it was all Elinor could see as she stared into her deep green eyes.
Anna dipped her brush and shook her head. “I swear these two have more spirit than Jackson when he was ten.”
Elinor laughed. “Speaking of which, Jackson sent a letter last week. He says Moira’s well enough now that she’ll be up and about by spring.”
After leaving the castle immediately after the wedding, Jackson had traveled to stay with their oldest sister and keep her company.
Anna smiled without looking up from the jars of paint before her. “That is quite good to hear. She must crave company, after all that time alone.”
“Jackson willnae let her be lonely,” Elinor said. “He always kens how to keep people entertained.”
“And how to make them uncomfortable,” Ciaran chimed in, his hand resting gently on her shoulder.
For a moment, Elinor thought Anna was going to contest his response.
“Aye. ‘Tis what makes him dangerous,” Anna said instead, lifting her brush.
Elinor looked over her shoulder and turned her face up just enough to see her husband. “Have ye noticed how yer old clansmen have taken to this place?”
“Aye.” His thumb brushed her collarbone. “They said that the harvest was the best in years. And the lads who used to brawl over every insult are now mending roofs together.”
“Aye, as it should be.” Elinor nodded proudly.
“Ye ken, for a moment, when ye suggested that idea, I thought it would never work,” Ciaran admitted.
Elinor’s lips curled into a smile. “Sometimes, it takes a while for folks to trust what’s good.”
Ciaran inclined his head. “Aye. But they learn.”
Ewan let out a loud sigh and leaned his cheek against his mother’s arm as if to convey that he was suffering for the sake of this portrait. She smoothed his hair back, grateful for the simple sweetness of the moment.
Anna stepped back and gave the canvas a critical look. The brush hovered over the pale space where she’d only just begun to outline Ciaran’s shoulders.
Elinor studied her sister as she continued to scrutinize the painting.
“Ye ken,” she teased, turning to Ciaran, “the first time she sat ye down for a painting, ye glowered at her like she wanted to steal yer pot of gold.”
Ciaran let out a low sound that was nearly a laugh. “I didnae ken if I trusted her.”
Elinor felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth. “Ye didnae trust anyone, back then.”
Anna smirked. “He still doesnae trust me, Elinor. He only stands here because ye told him he must.”
The twins wriggled harder at that, Ewan pressing his face against her shoulder in a way that made Anna sigh.
“Hold still,” she warned. “Or ye’ll end up with three arms in this painting.”
Isla giggled, her small fingers curling into Elinor’s braid.
Elinor stifled a groan. “If ye finish quickly, I promise they can go out before the rain starts to fall.”
Anna shot her a look. “Oh, I will be quick. But only if yer husband stops shifting his weight every time I look up.”
Ciaran grunted, but his hand never left Elinor’s shoulder.
Elinor dipped her head, feeling the soft brush of Isla’s hair against her cheek.
“Just a little longer,” she murmured to the children. “Then ye can run wild.”
Anna’s brush touched the canvas again, and for a while, no one spoke.
Elinor watched her sister continue to work, remaining focused for the next thirty minutes. At some point, she felt her baby kick three times.
Later, Anna set her brush down with a little sigh of satisfaction. “‘Tis done. Or at least near enough that nay one will notice what’s left.”
Ewan lifted his hand from Elinor’s shoulder as if he’d been waiting for that very moment. Isla had already begun to slide off her lap, her small, strapped feet reaching for the wooden floor.
“Do ye want to run outside before the rain?” Anna asked, her voice cheery.
“Anna!” Elinor warned, but her sister had already said the magic words.
The twins would not listen to her anymore. Isla’s face lit up like dawn, and Ewan scrambled down so fast that he nearly tipped the stool behind him.
“Great. Just great,” Elinor muttered, catching his arm and stopping him from falling flat on his face. “Well, what do we say to Aunt Anna?”
“Thank ye,” Isla spoke up, her curls bouncing around her face.
Ewan only nodded, already making his way towards the door.
Before they could get out of reach, Elinor kissed each small cheek and heard them giggle.
Anna laughed and held out her hands. “Come on, then, children. Ye can show yer cousins who can climb the wall fastest.”
“Stay where Anna can see ye!” Elinor called as they drew close to the door.
They ran out, their little sandals tapping on the floor, and Anna followed. She paused briefly at the threshold and turned back to them.
“Take a moment for yerselves,” she said softly, her eyes warm. “I am only doing ye this favor once.”
Elinor smiled in response. “Thank ye.”
Then, the door closed with a low click, and silence fell over them in the way it had so many times before.
Ciaran did not speak immediately. He rounded the chair and rested one hand on the armrest, the other brushing lightly over the swell of her belly.
She looked up at him. “They’ll be drenched by the rain before dinner.”
His mouth curved in a smile. “Aye, and they’ll sleep like logs.”
Elinor let out a giggle. “Ye ken, three years ago, I would have sworn there would never be a day like this.”
“Aye, me too,” he murmured, bending over her slowly, as if he forgot he could touch her without fearing he would hurt her.
His lips brushed her forehead first, then her temple.
“Ye brought me here,” he continued, his voice low. “I didnae even ken what I was looking for, but ye found it for me.”
Her throat tightened. She pressed her palm over his heart, feeling the steady beat there.
“We found it together,” she whispered.
He shifted, sinking down to one knee before her. His hand slid from her cheek to the place where her ribs met the swell of her belly. “All the years I spent thinking I was meant for nothing but war,” he rasped, “and all it took was ye to prove me wrong.”
Elinor leaned forward and pressed her forehead to his. “I used to think I’d never have this,” she mumbled. “Nae the children. Nae the peace. Nae a man who’d choose me every day.”
“And look where we are now,” he finished, his breath tickling her cheeks.
Before Elinor could speak again, he leaned closer and kissed her lips, and she responded, feeling bliss fill her heart and soul.
The End?