Page 23 of The Laird’s Vengeful Desire (The Highland Sisters’ Secret Desires #2)
“Looks good,” she managed, stepping back quickly before she could do something foolish like run her palms over his chest just to feel those muscles flex underneath her touch.
The next hour passed in a blur of instruction and demonstration, with Rhona showing the recruits how to handle other types of wounds while trying desperately to ignore the half-naked warrior serving as her model.
Ian, for his part, endured her ministrations with admirable professionalism, though she did catch him watching her with an intensity that made her stomach perform a complicated acrobatic turn.
When she began inspecting the recruits’ work, moving among them to correct techniques and offer encouragement, Ian finally retrieved his shirt. But even clothed, his presence continued to distract her, especially when she noticed the way he observed her interactions with his men.
“Nay, Gavin, ye’re bindin’ too low,” she corrected one young soldier. “The wound would be here, so ye need tae start the wrap just below it. Like this.”
She demonstrated the proper technique, then watched approvingly as the lad tried again. “Better, much better! Ye’ll save lives with work like that.”
The boy beamed at her praise, and a warm glow of satisfaction settled over Rhona at being able to teach skills that might be genuinely useful to these young men, enabling them to survive whatever battles lay ahead.
“What about stomach wounds?” one of the recruits called out.
“They’re very different,” Rhona replied, moving to address the group. “And much more dangerous. The key is tae keep pressure on the wound without pushin’ any damaged bit further inside…”
As she continued the lesson, explaining the complexities of abdominal injuries and the delicate balance required in treating them, she gradually became aware of Ian’s steady gaze upon her.
When she glanced his way, she found him watching her with something approaching wonder – almost as if he was seeing her clearly for the first time.
Why is he lookin’ at me like that?
“Right then, lads,” she announced as the sun climbed higher. “I think ye’ve learned enough fer one day. Practice what I’ve shown ye, and remember – in battle, a calm head saves more lives than a sharp sword.”
The recruits dispersed with grateful murmurs and obvious enthusiasm for their newly acquired knowledge. Several of them stopped to thank her personally, their young faces bright with appreciation that made her chest tight with unexpected emotion.
“That was remarkable,” Ian said quietly, approaching as the last of the soldiers departed.
“They’re good lads,” Rhona replied, gathering up the remaining bandages. “Quick learners, all of them.”
“I wasnae talkin’ about them.” Ian’s voice held a note she couldn’t quite identify. “I was talkin’ about ye.”
Rhona looked up to find him studying her with that same intense expression that had distracted her throughout the lesson. “What dae ye mean?”
“The way ye taught them. The way ye made them feel capable instead of foolish.” Ian shook his head slightly. “They’ll follow ye anywhere after today.”
“They’re nae mine tae lead.” Rhona protested, though his words still sent a warm flush through her chest.
“Perhaps they should be.”
The comment struck her deeply, loaded with implications that made her pulse quicken. Before she could formulate a fitting response, Ian continued.
“I’ve been watchin’ ye work with them, and I saw something I didnae expect.”
“And what’s that?”
“A natural leader. Someone who inspires confidence instead of fear.” His green eyes held hers steadily. “Someone who’d make an excellent Lady of this castle.”
There it is again, a marriage proposal disguised as a compliment.
“I told ye me answer tae that,” she said stiffly, turning away to pack up her supplies.
“Aye. Ye did. But I still think ye’d be magnificent at it.”
Despite her irritation at his persistence, Rhona found herself oddly pleased by his praise. “Well, ye’re nae terrible at the leadin’ business yerself. I can see the men respect ye. Genuinely respect ye, nae just fear ye.”
Ian looked surprised by her words. “I thought ye said I was just like the old laird.”
“I said nay such thing.” Rhona faced him squarely. “I said ye were like every other Wallace, which I’ll admit was a tad unfair – fer ye’re naethin’ like Douglas.”
“How can ye be so certain?”
Rhona studied his face, noting the genuine uncertainty there, the way he seemed to doubt his own worthiness for the role he’d inherited. It was endearing, in a way that made her heart ache.
“Because ye have a heart,” she said simply. “Douglas never did.”
The words seemed to hit something deep within Ian. He stared at her for a long moment, something shifting in his expression that made her suddenly aware of how alone they were in the courtyard.
“Rhona, I–”
“Me lady!” the interruption came from young Alec, who came jogging back toward them with obvious excitement. “I was wonderin’ – would it be possible fer us tae come with ye when ye visit the village tomorrow? Tae practice firsthand what ye taught us?”
Rhona blinked at the unexpected request. “Visit the village? With me?”
“Aye,” Alec continued eagerly. “Baird mentioned ye might be goin’ tae help with some more ailments there and, well, we thought it might be good practice fer us tae see real patients instead of just each other.”
The suggestion was actually quite brilliant, Rhona realized. Practical application of the skills she’d taught them, under controlled circumstances where she could keep a watchful eye to ensure that mistakes wouldn’t be fatal.
“’Tis nae a bad idea,” she said slowly, glancing at Ian. “What dae ye think, me laird?”
Ian considered the proposal thoroughly. “It would be good fer them tae learn proper healin’ practices, beyond just battlefield medicine. And the villagers could use the help.” He nodded decisively. “Aye, take them. But only the ones who proved competent today.”
Alec’s face lit up like a harvest bonfire. “Thank ye, me laird. We willnae disappoint ye!”
As the young soldier hurried away to share the good news with his comrades, Rhona found herself smiling despite her complicated feelings about the man beside her.
“That was well done,” she said quietly.
“Was it?” Ian seemed genuinely uncertain. “I’m still figurin’ out how tae lead these men.”
“Ye’re daein’ fine. Better than fine, actually.” Rhona gathered her remaining supplies, preparing to head back to the castle. “Those lads would follow ye intae hell itself, and nae because they fear ye. Nae many leaders can say that.”
“High praise from someone who considers me her captor.”
The retort stung, partly because it was true and partly because she was beginning to struggle with that definition of their relationship.
Ian had certainly kept her prisoner, but he’d also shown her kindness, and respect.
The lines between captor and protector, between enemy and ally, were becoming increasingly blurred.
“Aye, well,” she said carefully, “even prisoners can recognize good leadership when they see it.”
Ian studied her face for a moment, as if trying to read something in her expression. “I should let ye rest. Tomorrow will be a long day if ye’re takin’ half me army tae play healer.”
“They’re nae yer army yet,” Rhona replied with a slight smile. “More like… well-meanin’ farm lads with pointy objects.”
“Careful lass. If ye keep insultin’ me army I might have tae defend their honor.” Ian’s eyes sparked with mischief. “Though, I suppose callin’ them ‘well-meanin’ farm lads’ is generous.”
The teasing tone hit closer to home than he had probably intended.
It was behavior like this that made her doubt whether he still was her captor.
What if all this kindness and attraction was just an elaborate form of manipulation designed to make her more compliant? To get her to agree to marrying him?
But if it is, ‘tis the most convincing performance I’ve ever seen.
As she made her way back to her chambers, Rhona’s mind churned with conflicting thoughts and emotions.
The physical attraction she felt for Ian was undeniable – the lesson had proven that beyond any doubt.
But attraction was dangerous when it clouded judgment, and she could not afford to let her guard down.
Still, as she replayed the morning’s events, she found herself lingering on moments of true connection – his admiration for her teaching, her recognition of his leadership abilities, the easy banter that had developed between them despite their circumstances.
Maybe there’s more tae this than politics . Maybe he’s as confused about what’s happenin’ between us as I am.
The thought was both thrilling and terrifying. Because Rhona had a sneaky suspicion that she might – despite every reason not to – be falling for him. If that was true, then everything became infinitely more complicated.
And infinitely more dangerous for her carefully guarded heart.