Page 27 of The Highlander’s Illicit Bride (Wicked Highland Lairds #1)

I solde awoke the next morning with her body still tingling and a smile stretched wide across her face as she thought about the evening before.

She could still feel the heat of Struan’s kiss upon her lips.

Could still feel his tongue inside of her.

And she could still feel the power of the climax that had shaken her from head to toe.

The merest thought of them made her shudder and sent a wave of pleasure washing over her once more.

She never knew she could be made to feel such things.

Never knew a pinnacle of pleasure so high even existed, let alone that she could be made to reach it.

She stretched languidly in her bed and took a moment to revel in the sensations that continued to make her skin tingle.

Isolde clapped her hands over her mouth to stifle the girlish giggle that came bursting out.

Her cheeks burned and she felt a quiver in her sex that served as another reminder of the evening’s passions.

What had happened between them the night before had been the last thing she had expected, but as she was going to leave Achnacarry, she wanted to take a memory with her that would be hers alone to keep.

A memory that could help sustain her through the long, lonely nights that undoubtedly lay ahead of her.

A memory made with a man she had come to care deeply for.

As she pressed her head back into the pillows, Isolde squeezed her eyes shut and tried to drown out his voice, pleading with her to stay.

The depth of care she heard in his words and saw in his eyes continued to make her resolve waver.

She knew he felt for her the way she had come to feel for him.

But she knew it was selfish. Knew that by staying, she would only be inviting more pain and destruction upon his family and his clan.

There was part of Isolde that feared one day, Struan would come to see her not as she was, but as her father’s daughter. That despite his protestations to the contrary, that he would come to resent her for what he’d done.

When he looked into her eyes now, all she saw was the purest light of his affection for her.

The thought that one day, that light might dim and turn dark sent a bolt of dread through her heart too thick and cloying to contemplate.

It was something Isolde knew she could not bear.

It was better to take the memory they’d made the previous night, the memory of his affection for her, and leave.

It was something good and pure she would be able to carry with her.

A knock at her door brought her back from her thoughts. She gave herself a quick glance in the looking glass, making sure she was presentable.

“Come,” she called.

When the door opened, Isolde expected to see Struan marching in but was surprised to see his sister, Mairi, instead.

“Oh good, ye’re up,” she chirped. “I was hopin’ I wouldnae be wakin’ ye. I heard ye had trouble sleepin’ last night.”

Although Mairi’s tone was concerned, rather than suggestive of anything, Isolde’s stomach clenched and heat immediately rose into her cheeks anyway as images of her tryst with Struan flashed through her mind.

Mairi cocked her head and stared at her with a curious and somewhat confused look on her face.

She knew it was her embarrassment that brought the warmth to her cheeks, but she didn’t know what Struan had said to his sister.

He knew the family was close but did that bond include sharing their intimate details?

Her insides roiled at the thought that Mairi knew about their evening together.

“I saw Struan this mornin’,” Mairi said slowly. “He said he ran intae ye in the kitchens, said ye were both havin’ trouble sleepin’.”

A powerful wave of relief flooded her body, washing away the near panic and mortification that had been gripping her. A shaky smile touched her lips and she nodded.

“Oh. Aye. Naethin’ a glass of warm milk couldnae fix,” Isolde said.

Mairi nodded. “That sometimes works fer me too. Anyway, I’m glad ye’re up.”

“Why is that?”

“Because Struan asked that I give ye a tour of the grounds,” she said brightly. “He wanted me tae show ye Achnacarry.”

“’Tis nice of him.”

“He said ye might be stayin’ a while and thought it would be good fer ye tae ken yer way around,” she replied. “’Tis a big place and ‘tis easy tae get yerself turned around if ye dinnae ken where ye’re goin’.”

Isolde wondered if their escapade last night had made Struan think she’d changed her mind about leaving.

It hadn’t. But it was obviously his hope.

She was just about to decline the tour when another thought occurred to her.

When she did leave, she was likely going to have to slip out in the middle of the night.

More, she knew people were still wary of her, being Murdoch’s daughter and all, so slipping away and avoiding running into anybody would just be better.

Isolde feared that if she was caught escaping in the middle of the night, it would confirm everybody’s worst thoughts about her.

It would make them see her as a traitor.

And that would reflect poorly on Struan, which was something else she did not want.

It was part of the reason she decided to plan things that way.

Yet slipping away unnoticed would be a lot simpler if I kent me way around, nae wandering the winding corridors of the castle all night.

“’Tis true,” Isolde replied with a wry grin. “I’ve lost me way a few times.”

“Good. So, get dressed, we’ll get somethin’ tae eat, then take a walk around.”

With a smile on her face, Isolde slipped into her dress, then put on her slippers.

After that, she splashed some water on her face and cleaned herself up a bit.

Before she could do anything else though, Mairi stood behind her and pushed her down onto the bench in front of the looking glass then began to braid her hair.

“I always liked braidin’ me sister Rhona’s hair,” Mairi said. “I’ve kind of missed havin’ somebody’s hair tae dae.”

“Och…” was all Isolde could manage as she didn’t know if she should say that she knew about Rhona.

“By yer expression I see that Struan has told ye what happened to her,” Mairi looked at her with a sad smile.

“Yes, he did. And fer what it’s worth, I’m truly sorry.”

“Thank ye. ‘Tis hard without her. I miss her every day,” Mairi said, her voice thick with emotion. “But me sister was fierce, always with a blade in her hand. She was also very wise.”

Isolde could see the hole Rhona’s presence had left in the family and it made her heart ache all the more for them. Hearing Mairi’s love for her made Isolde’s heart echo with the loneliness she’d grown up with.

“There,” Mairi said. “That should dae it.”

Isolde studied herself in the looking glass and smiled at the sight of her blonde hair, now woven into a neat, elegant braid that draped over her shoulder. “It looks wonderful. Thank ye fer daein’ that fer me.”

“’Twas naethin’,” she replied. “Like I said, I’ve missed it. Try as I might, Finlay and Struan would never let me braid their hair. Now, come on. I’m famished.”

Isolde laughed as she got to her feet and followed Mairi out of the bedchamber. Together, they walked the corridors with Mairi explaining where each one went. Isolde paid special attention to the directions to the kitchens, pantry, and supply rooms.

They walked down a long corridor and into a small gallery that was filled with tapestries and oil paintings. Isolde walked around, looking at them all, admiring the work.

“These are beautiful,” Isolde said. “Who are all these people?”

“Our ancestors. Heroes of our clan,” she replied. “Maybe one day I’ll have me own portrait hangin’ on these walls.”

Isolde smiled. “I’ve nay doubt ye will.”

She stopped in front of a painting that looked newer than the rest. It was of a woman with long, dark hair and the same wild gray eyes that Struan had. She pointed to it.

“This is Rhona, isnae it?”

Mairi stepped over to her, grief etched into her features but also the unmistakable light of pride and affection filling her eyes as well. Isolde admired the bond between the siblings.

She nodded. “Aye. Struan had this portrait commissioned… after. After Rhona… died,” she said, her tone edged with sadness.

“Fer havin’ done it by memory, our artist did a remarkable job.

He got everythin’ about her right. The high cheekbones, the way her eyes glittered, even the color in her cheeks. ‘Tis perfect.”

“She was a strikin’ woman. ‘Tis nae hard tae see why he remembered her so vividly.”

As Isolde’s gaze drifted, it caught on the rich tapestry hanging beside Rhona’s portrait. It bore the house sigil, but a slight bulge near the edge made her pause. She tilted her head.

“Is that... a seam?” she asked, stepping closer. “Or am I imagining things?”

Mairi’s lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“Ye’ve sharp eyes,” she said, brushing past Isolde to tug the tapestry aside.

Behind it lay a shallow recess. She reached in and pulled a small lever hidden in the stone.

A click echoed, followed by the sharp scrape of stone.

Mairi pushed the wall and Isolde smiled as it swung inward on hidden hinges, revealing a secret passageway.

Isolde stepped closer and saw the flight of stairs that led down.

“Where daes this go?” she asked.

“The stairs lead tae a corridor that runs beneath the yard and tae curtain wall,” she said. “There’s another staircase at the end that leads tae a hidden door that opens tae that forest beyond the walls. ‘Tis meant as an escape route should Achnacarry ever fall.”

“’Tis wise.”

Mairi nodded. “Aye. We’ve nae had tae use it before and I hope we never have tae. Achnacarry is me home and I cannae bear the thought of runnin’ from it.”

“I hope ye never have tae either.”

She closed the door and straightened out the tapestry again, concealing the lever that opened the door. Isolde made a quick note of it though. That passageway was going to come in handy when she finally made ready to leave.

“Are ye hungry?” Mairi asked brightly.

“Ravenous.”

“Me too,” she replied. “Let’s go eat.”

“Lead the way.”

Mairi led her to the kitchens where she asked some scullery maids them to make them their morning meal.

After that, she led Isolde back to the family dining hall, chatting with her the entire time.

Isolde enjoyed Mairi’s company. She suspected with the death of her sister, Mairi had lacked female companionship as well, and was enjoying having her there to talk to.

“When we’re done eatin’, we’ll go tae me chamber. I’ve got some dresses I think would look good on ye,” she said. “Ye can wear those until we have some proper dresses made up fer ye.”

“’Tis too kind. I couldnae possibly?—”

Mairi cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Ye can and ye will,” she said. “Ye’re a guest here and I want ye tae be comfortable. Happy even.”

“Thank ye, Mairi.”

The woman flashed Isolde a smile as their meals were brought in and laid out on the table before them.

As they tucked into them, Isolde was nearly overcome by the bond of friendship she felt for Mairi.

The woman had no guile. No deception. She was simply enjoying spending time with her.

And Isolde was enjoying spending time with her too.

It once again drove that icy dagger of guilt deeper into her heart. Mairi had been so kind to her and knowing she was going to flee from Achnacarry in the middle of the night made her feel awful. But she knew it would be easier for everybody.

And fer meself…

Isolde feared that if she said goodbye to Struan, he would find a way to talk her out of it. And since a big part of her wanted to stay, that made it all the more pressing that she left as soon as she was able to.