Wedded to the Twisted Highlander (Taming the Kilmartins #3)

Chapter 4

4

T he fire crackled and popped in the grand stone grate. The flames danced with fierce elegance. Rich, dark wood lined the walls of the study, adorned with tapestries that whispered tales of valor and love. The scent of aged leather and mesquite wood mingled in the air, creating a heady atmosphere that both soothed and unnerved Astrid.

Her heart drummed against her ribs as she polished off her drink and handed him the empty glass. The Laird’s eyes widened, indicating that she’d somehow impressed him.

“Would ye care for another dram?” he asked, his voice low and raspy.

Astrid couldn’t help but feel a prickle of suspicion as she looked at the flask in his hand. “Why are ye tryin’ to get me drunk?”

“That wasnae me intention at all. But if that’s how the evening ends, who am I to stop it?” the Laird taunted, before raising his glass in a toast and draining it.

Astrid’s eyes followed the movement his Adam’s apple and then trailed down his neck to his chest. He looked strong and well-built. Perhaps he could protect her.

“Of course, the first thing I’ll need ye to do is disarm yerself. Put yer weapons on the desk, and I promise to give them back to ye before ye leave.”

“Leave the room or the castle?” Astrid challenged as she held her glass out to him. The moment he reached for it, she recoiled and shook her head. “I’ll have the drink.”

The Laird’s crooked grin infuriated her. She wished she knew what was going on in his head. It was as if he held all her secrets in the palm of his hand, yet she didn’t have a clue as to who he was.

“The room. But I want ye bare, understand?”

“And what makes ye think I have such things on me person? Do you think I carry such things at all times?” Astrid asked as he refilled her glass and flashed her a smug grin.

“Dinnae play coy wit’ me,” he said. “Ye may be able to enchant other men wit’ yer beauty, but I’m nae like most men.”

A smile tugged at the corners of Astrid’s lips. “Ye find me beautiful?” she asked.

“Aye, well, it’s nae like ye dinnae ken. Nay matter how ratty yer hair is, ye have a handsome face, and ye ken it.”

“All too well,” Astrid mumbled as she took a sip of her whiskey, wishing the burn would ease the ache in her chest. She didn’t have to be reminded of her lot in life—it was one she had no choice over.

“I’ll nae ask ye again.”

“And what if I refuse? Are ye goin’ to take them by force then?” she asked as she moved around the study, her attention shifting to the fancy books that lined the shelves.

“I’ve taken ye down before, I think I can manage again. How’s yer ankle, by the way? I saw how ye landed on it. Surely the pain is?—”

“Manageable,” she answered as she realized that the throbbing in her ankle had turned into a dull ache.

“Aye, I’m sure it is. But I’m nae goin’ to tell ye again. Disarm yerself. Ye and yer daughter are safe here, I swear it.”

Astrid didn’t budge.

The Laird’s expression hardened slightly as he stepped closer to her. He closed the distance between them until she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Her breath caught in her throat as his eyes bored into hers.

“And how can ye be so sure? Ye dinnae have a clue what demons are hunting for me.”

Her heart fluttered as he leaned in. Their breaths mingled and filled the space between them. The warmth of the fire paled in comparison to the warmth of his body. For a moment, Astrid wondered if she imagined the flicker of intrigue in his eyes.

“They can wait out in the cold. Ye’re under me protection,” he said with such conviction that it left no room for doubt. “Ye’ll nae need yer blades here.”

“And how do ye ken what I need?” she challenged.

“Because…” he began, his voice a husky whisper that sent a shiver of desire down her spine. She stepped back only to have him follow her, keeping the distance between them to a minimum. “I’m givin’ ye a chance to do the right thing here.”

“Is that so?” Astrid teased as she felt the bookcase pressing against her back.

The Laird’s imposing figure cast a shadow over her. Her heart raced wildly in her chest, each beat echoing in the charged stillness of his study.

“Either ye remove the dagger, or I shall lift yer skirts and retrieve it meself.”

A shiver ran down her spine at the suggestion, her breath hitching as she considered the implications. His intense eyes seemed to pierce through her very soul, igniting a spark of rebellion within her.

With a sudden rush of determination, she lifted her skirts, baring her thigh to his scrutiny. The air was electric, and she watched as his eyes lingered on her bare flesh, stirring a fire within her that she had not expected to feel.

He stepped closer, his hands skillfully checking her for any other hidden weapons. She was shocked to find that, despite her vulnerability, she wasn’t afraid of him. There was something magnetic about him—a raw, untamed energy that both daunted and excited her.

As soon as he retrieved her dagger—a flash of silver in the firelight—he stepped back, his expression a mix of disbelief and concern.

“Why would ye even carry such a weapon?” he asked, a furrow forming between his eyebrows.

“Ye could say I’ve grown claws over the years and ken better than to trust anyone,” she answered as she glanced at the blade in his hand. “Includin’ a laird wit’ good intentions. Ye ken what they say, do ye nae? The road to hell is paved wit’ good intentions.”

“Aye,” he said as he stepped back and moved to his desk.

Astrid let out a heavy sigh. How the Laird managed to scramble her thoughts, she didn’t know. No other man had managed to confuse her. Yet, there she was, questioning the purpose of her presence in his study.

“The world is harsh. But a lass doesnae conceal her dagger unless she has enemies. So why dinnae ye tell me what is really goin’ on? The men on the way back here… ye kenned them, did ye nae?”

“The Laird has a very active imagination,” Astrid scoffed.

“Why do ye need a weapon?” the Laird pressed. His loud voice boomed through the room, rattling the paintings hanging on the wall.

Astrid’s back stiffened as all the warmth in her body drained out of her toes. His eyes bored into hers as if he could read her mind so easily.

“Because,” she answered, her voice just as harsh, “the world will chew us up and spit us out. I cannae and willnae let any harm come to me daughter. Ye saw it wit’ yer own eyes. There are people out there who arenae very nice. And even lairds will say one thing and do another. I’ve got to protect her from the world.”

“Ye think me a threat?” the Laird asked as he plopped down into his chair, as if defeated.

Astrid found herself wanting to comfort him, but she remained rooted to the spot.

“Nay, Me Laird, but there are other lairds who arenae as kind,” she answered, her voice cracking as images of Laird Chalium flashed through her mind. His blond hair and blue eyes were etched into her memory like a scar.

“Ye speak of experience then. Who is he? Name him.”

Astrid hung her head as the walls seemed to close in on her. Every breath was a struggle as her throat constricted and her chest tightened.

“Easy,” the Laird murmured, his voice much closer than she had expected. “’Tis just ye and me in here. There’s nay danger.”

Astrid blinked until Jenson’s face merged with Laird McFair’s. The two images were so different that they startled her out of her daydream. She was shocked to find the Laird standing so close to her again.

His fingers curled around her arms as if it was by his grace that she remained on her feet. There was a pain in his eyes that made her flush with embarrassment.

“I see,” he whispered as if he knew exactly what she had been through.

“Laird Chalium,” Astrid choked out. “He willnae stop until he finds us.”

“Ye said the faither was dead,” the Laird said.

“And how I wish he was,” Astrid mumbled. “But there’s nay place for us to go that dares go up against him. We need sanctuary.”

She watched as he moved back to his desk and leaned against it, his brow furrowed. Her chest tightened as she glanced down at the bear rug before the fireplace. She couldn’t help but wonder if the Laird had killed the beast with his bare hands.

It wouldn’t surprise her one bit if he had. Laird McFair was certainly a man who looked like he could take on an army all on his own.

“I’ve heard the name.”

“It doesnae surprise me. Jenson has built a reputation for himself.”

“Aye, a man of ill repute, to be certain. And what had he done to warrant yer ire?”

“What all men seem to promise but never deliver,” Astrid gritted out.

“That doesnae answer me question,” the Laird said as he tilted his head.

The time for games was over. She could sense his irritation beneath his cool facade.

“Laird Chalium seduced me sister. He never intended to father a child wit’ her. When Melody was born, he didnae even acknowledge her. He wanted nothing to do wit’ the lass. But she was a constant reminder of his betrayal.” Astrid sighed as she closed her eyes.

The images lingered in her mind, reminding her once again that her sister was gone and the bastard was still alive.

“And where is yer sister?”

“Dead,” Astrid answered as she opened her eyes. “She took her life. That was when he turned to me. I couldnae let him touch me, nae after what he put me sister through. So, I left and took Melody wit’ me. She’s all I have left of me sister.”

Her lower lip trembled as the words tumbled out. She hated to think about the past. It was dead to her as long as she could keep moving. But how would Laird McFair handle her revelation? He didn’t appear to care one bit about her plight.

“Ye escaped him,” he prompted.

“Aye,” she answered with a nod of her head. “He had come to me chambers. His advances werenae welcomed. When he grabbed me by the shoulder, I grabbed his dirk and tried to chop off his head. But I missed.”

“Chalium will come for ye, and I have half a mind to let him take ye both,” the Laird said as he spun the tip of her dagger on his desk. “If he were a noble and decent man. But I cannae allow him to harm ye, nae while ye’re under me protection.”

“This isnae a problem that should burden ye,” Astrid said as she handed him her empty glass. He looked at it for a moment as if to ask if she’d like another dram. When she didn’t move, he took it from her.

“I may nae ken ye, but I ken enough to understand that ye’re a brave lass. Ye have faced unimaginable threats that ye shouldnae have had to face. And here ye are, standin’ as if nothing in the world can knock ye down. I like that. But I also ken that one of these days, something is bound to come around that’ll knock ye on yer arse.”

“All the more reason nae to put such a burden on yer shoulders. Allow us to stay the night, and we’ll leave in the morn.”

“But there is still the matter of yer punishment,” the Laird said, tapping a finger on his chin. “Ye see, I cannae let ye roam about freely. Ye’re here for a purpose. Ye shall tend to me faither and see that he is as comfortable as possible. Or have ye forgotten?”

“I havenae forgotten,” Astrid said. “But I may have hoped that ye would.”

“Ye’ll find that I’m nae a fool like some of the other people ye may have encountered. I ken what Chalium’s threats entail. I ken that ye’re between a rock and a hard place and ye’re runnin’ out of options.”