Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
Blair was across the room in a moment as soon as he heard the crash and saw Ada hurry to pick up the pieces herself.
“Let me, Ada,” he said, bending down next to her and gently touching her hand so she stopped picking up the pieces. “I dinnae want ye tae get hurt.”
He could hear the mumble of her father sending for a servant, but he would do this himself in order to keep her safe. He would do anything to keep her safe. He did clearly hear, however, the sharp and angry tone of Irving MacIntosh, who was standing and leaning over the edge of the table.
“And who is this person who should address ye so informally, Lady Ada?” he asked.
Keeping a tight lid on his fury, Blair slowly turned to look at him while Ada rushed to introduce him.
“This is Blair MacDougall,” she said, her hand moving near to his shoulder, but she did not touch him. “He is me personal guard at me father’s orders.”
“I see,” Irving continued in the same sharp and now suspicious tone.
Blair stared back at him, hard and unyielding, but the man did not shy away. “MacDougall, ye say?” he asked, and Blair nodded. “Very well. But be quick about it, and make sure that Lady Ada’s wine is soon filled again.”
Blair wanted to strike him. No, he wanted to murder the silly man for his arrogance and demanding behavior, yet the only thing he did was look at Ada. A color had risen in her cheeks as she looked across at her betrothed, and Blair could tell that she was angry.
Good. At least she does nae like the bastard.
If he could tell that she liked him, then that would have been far harder to bear, and he would have had to leave MacPherson Castle sooner than he thought.
Ada gave him another puzzled look, and when the servants arrived to assist him, she stood and returned stiffly to her seat.
She sat in silence for a little longer, and the men didn't seem to notice.
Blair, his hands slightly stained from the wineglass, returned to his position against the wall, a ball of rage growing inside him, bigger and bigger.
But he'd spent years suppressing his anger, knowing what it could do; it was best that he kept it safely locked away.
It still pressed against him, longing to be free.
Irving MacIntosh looked like a prized bloody idiot.
He sat chatting with Graeme, but neither man seemed to notice the growing discomfort of the woman who also shared their table, a woman whose voice Blair secretly looked forward to hearing when he woke up and every time he returned to his guarding shift.
Her ideas intrigued, excited, enraged, and entertained him all at the same time.
He couldn't imagine wanting Ada to be anything other than who she was, and silence was the last thing he wanted from her.
“Will ye excuse me, gentlemen?” she said suddenly, slowly standing up. “I should like a bit of fresh air after that meal. I will return presently.”
“Of course, Ada, that would be agreeable,” Laird MacPherson said, nodding his head to her.
Ada left and, from a distance, Blair followed behind.
He did not agree with the laird’s desire that she should constantly be watched, and so when she entered the castle gardens at the back of the castle, he hung behind a little, letting her get ahead of him and watching her form in the torchlit dimness.
It was a cold evening, and the sun had set early, for winter still hung heavy in the air.
But he knew he’d rather tear into his own skin than give her an order just then.
She didn’t seem to notice the cold either, simply walking down the garden path, her green woolen dress seeming to be enough for her.
As he passed a rose bush, he was disappointed that it was yet too early for the roses to bloom. He wanted to pick one and leave it in Ada’s room secretly, so that she’d know someone out there made her smile at the end of this dreadful night—dreadful for him, at least.
What a foolish thought. Ye will be gone soon once she is married. Ye will nae have tae think of the lass again.
It was wiser and better that way. Even if Irving was an arsehole, he didn't have Blair's dark past—a past that kept him awake at night and made him remember things he hoped to forget.
Then there was Finley, the man who, no doubt, was lurking in every shadow, ready to kill him for what he'd done to his men as soon as he could find him.
Blair knew he could never do that to a woman he wished to call his wife.
And he would definitely never do that to Ada.
When he heard the crack of a twig, he looked up to see Ada paused, half-hidden by a large tree.
He, too, paused, watching her from the shadows but keeping his distance.
He was aware that she was aware of his presence, and he hoped that it brought her comfort rather than irritation.
He leaned against a nearby tree, shivering slightly as an icy breeze passed by, and hoping she would want to go in soon, or he might freeze his bollocks off.
What good are they anyway? It’s nae as if I’ve used them in a while.
It was freezing, but Ada didn’t care. She was cooling down from the rage that had boiled inside her after Irving’s treatment of Blair.
Blair, the man who had saved her life time and time again, who was everything that was good and noble, a man who had rushed to her side just to help her pick up the pieces of a damned glass she’d broken, was being ridiculed by a guest to her castle?
I dinnae think so. Handsome or nae, the man is obviously an arse.
Irving had looked disgusted that Blair should even speak to her, let alone be so close to her. When she had looked up into her betrothed’s eyes and seen the disgust there, she knew that she could never marry him. Not that she’d planned to anyway, but now it was even more solidified in her mind.
I could never marry a man such as that, full of such self-importance.
He reminded her slightly of her father, and if her married life was going to be just as bad as her life growing up in her family home, full of rules made by men who expected her to obey them, then she wanted no part in it.
The anger she’d seen in Blair’s eyes after Irving had spoken to him had frightened her as well. Blair looked almost murderous, and for some reason that she could not identify, she was embarrassed to be seen in the same room with Irving, let alone be presented as his fiancée.
Dear Lord, what a mess. She’d sat back down, but after the meal, she was desperate to get outside and breathe in air that Irving was not breathing. Now that she stood in the cold garden, she sucked in a breath, closing her eyes as the chill of it made her tremble. But it was better than anger.
Knowing that Blair was behind her, she didn’t walk too fast, but she could tell that he was giving her space.
It warmed her heart, and she put a hand to the spot where it ached.
How could someone want another so badly, but they did not want them in return?
That, along with her forced betrothal, made Ada want to scream at the moon.
Hearing hushed voices at the far side of the garden, she opened her eyes and looked for the source of the sound.
When she couldn’t see the people right away, she walked a little further down the path and then backed up against a bush when she noticed Irving speaking to one of the maids.
She covered her mouth to keep back a gasp, fearing that she was about to see him attempt a flirtatious interaction or perhaps worse.
But instead, the two of them stood a distance apart, and under the torchlight, the maid looked a little confused when Irving handed her something.
She shook her head, and when Ada squinted her eyes, she thought that the maid looked as though she’d been crying.
Breathing in, Ada worried that Irving had done something bad to the lass to make her look so, but she couldn’t be sure from such a distance.
The thing he handed her was white, and despite her squinting, she couldn’t tell what it was.
When the girl shook her head yet again and stepped backward, Ada strode forward, making her presence known, for she couldn’t stay away any longer.
She would help her if she could. But as she approached, the maid took the small thing into her hands.
Irving turned to Ada when he heard her footsteps, and without blinking, he smiled. “Och, there ye are, Lady Ada. I was just comin’ tae fetch ye so that we could return tae yer father.”
“What are ye doin’ with Jane?” she asked, motioning to the young woman.
“I was just helpin’ the lass. I heard her cryin’ out here when I came tae fetch ye, and so I handed her a handkerchief. I am a gentleman after all.” He grinned again, and Ada looked at Jane, who did look as though she’d been crying.
But was he the source of it?
“Is that true, Jane?” Ada asked, looking to the young girl and feeling her body tense by the second. There was something unpleasant about staying next to Irving, and she couldn’t shake the feeling off.
“Aye, Lady Ada,” she said, holding up the handkerchief between her fingers and then dabbing her eyes.
Ada frowned. The maid seemed almost at ease now. But what had she seen? Had she made something up in her mind because she wished very much to dislike the man her father had betrothed her to?
“Very well. Ye may go now, Jane. Let me ken if there is somethin’ I can dae tae help.”
“Thank ye, Lady Ada,” the lass said hurriedly, curtsying quickly before she scampered off. Ada then turned to Irving who was watching her curiously.
“Dae ye often go wanderin’ off on yer own, lass?” he asked, a little curl to the edge of his lips, but in his eyes, she did not sense humor.
“Why should it matter tae ye? It is me home after all, and I ken its every in and out.”
He nodded. “That sounds very reasonable.” He took a step closer, and biting her lip to keep from gasping, Ada stepped back slightly.
The uneasiness crawled on her skin, making her heart race faster and her palms sweat. It was not the same lovely uneasiness she felt when in Blair’s presence but rather one that made her think of dark and dangerous things.
“So, how come yer guard, Blair if I’m nae mistaken, is nae walkin’ with ye around? Should nae he be followin’ yer tracks, makin’ sure yer sound and safe?”
“I am nae prisoner, me laird. A walk in the gardens is nae so dangerous.” Unless I have someone watching me steps like ye do. Ada didn’t want to admit that most probably Blair was going to come any second now, which calmed her to no end.
“How long has he worked for yer family?”
“A few years now,” she said with a frown, wondering why he should care about such a thing.
“I see. And so yer father kens him well. Dae ye?”
Ada’s brows knit together. “Why must ye ask such things? He is the guard assigned tae me because of me father and his constant worry for me protection. Why should ye care about him at all?”
“Well, it is somethin’ that a betrothed would ask about a man who is by yer side at every moment.
” Somehow, his smile grew even larger, and one brow lifted as his gaze raked over his face.
“It is unusual, then, I suppose, that I should find meself alone with ye now.” His hand reached out to brush a finger along the inside of her arm.
Ada shivered and moved her arm out of the way.
“I think it is time tae return inside, dae ye nae?” she asked.
She turned to walk away with a few fast steps, but Irving grabbed her elbow and roughly pulled her back in front of him.
“I dinnae get dismissed by others, lass,” he said with a change in his tone.
It sent goosebumps over her skin and a tingle of fear down her spine.
“I dismiss others. Why dae ye nae stay with me? Ye are me betrothed after all, and we should nae be afraid of one another.” He pushed her back toward the hedgerow and crowded into the space in front of her.
Ada’s breath came sharp and fast. There was nowhere to go, no place to run and hide. Irving’s grip on her arm was tight. It began to hurt, but she did her best not to show her unease.
Suddenly, Irving moved back from her, and she gasped when she saw Blair standing between them. His hand was on Irving’s chest. “Lady Ada asked tae return inside, sir,” the guard said, looking magnificent and powerful in the torchlight.
She let out a relieved breath, grateful that he’d come in that moment—not that she could ever tell him so.
She stepped out from behind him and tried to steady her breathing. The nearness of Blair made all the fear she’d just felt slowly melt away.
“Och, ye have many duties tae protect, dae ye nae, Blair MacDougall?” Irving asked as the men stared one another down, but eventually, he stepped back out from underneath Blair’s touch.
He looked at Ada. “I meant ye nae harm, lass. Ye must ken that. We are tae be married. Why should I wish any harm tae me betrothed?”
“Nae one said anythin’ about harm,” Blair said, his voice lower and surlier than she’d ever heard it.
Irving took a step back and, in a high-handed tone, said, “I am the son of Laird MacIntosh, MacDougall. Keep that in mind. Yers is a name easily forgotten.”
With that, he stalked away, and Blair looked down at her. His hand fluttered by her face, but then deciding against it, he touched the arm Irving had grabbed.
“Are ye all right, lass?” he asked in a gentler tone than he’d ever used with her.
“Aye,” she nodded, not wanting tears to come. “I am well.” She looked deep into his eyes, wanting to see the warmth and affection she felt for him then, but it was gone in a moment.
She wondered if it had ever been there or if she had made that up too.
“Good.” He pulled his hand away and stood rigid before her. “Let’s go back intae the castle, Lady Ada.”