Chapter One #2
When his gaze dropped to my lips again, and he leaned so close I could feel his warm breath whisper across my mouth, I thought he was finally going to kiss me.
Thought he was going to cross that divide, however wrong it would be, and I couldn’t help but pray he would.
Pray, when that was the last thing I should long for.
Yet, my heart pounded into my throat, and my body came alive at the thought of it.
The blasphemous idea of what it might feel like.
While I knew with every fiber of my being he felt the same, somehow, he found the strength to avoid closing his lips over mine. Instead, he leaned close to my ear.
“I did it because you saved my life,” he said huskily, trying to fight this as much as I. “And for no other reason, lass.”
He referred to my foreseeing his demise if he had traveled in another boat alongside his father’s the night it was shipwrecked.
“And yet you still don’t believe in my abilities nor my gift of foresight,” I whispered, my voice refusing to work as it should.
Honestly, I was surprised my legs still held me up, given how weak my knees had become.
How shaky and feverish I felt all over at his proximity.
How formidable yet incredibly alluring I found him.
Although I knew better than to taunt him, I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
“If, of course, that’s the real reason you helped me. ”
“’Tis,” he said roughly, looking into my eyes again before his gaze dropped to the cross hanging around my neck, the one his father had insisted I wear to keep me safe in these parts.
He fingered the delicate piece. “And I no more believe in your abilities than I do that you truly worship the deity this represents.”
“Believe what you like,” I murmured, not about to play this game with him. He knew why I wore this cross. “And I will believe what I like.”
His accusation might be chilly, but the sensual warmth building between us as our gazes lingered on one another was causing havoc with every last part of me, invoking all sorts of dangerous womanly sensations. My heart slammed. I barely breathed.
Step away, I warned myself. Right away lest you do something you will regret. Cross a line. I would, too. Of that I had no doubt.
And Lachlann didn’t deserve that.
To that end, I was finally able to muster up every ounce of willpower I possessed, sidle away from Declan, and head upstairs without a backward glance. “I’m going to check on your father.”
Though I saw fine in the dark and knew this castle relatively well by now, Declan followed closely anyway, providing torchlight. I did my best to ignore his presence at my back, but it wasn’t easy.
In fact, the more time that passed, the more difficult it became.
Since returning from battling at the English border, he seemed to be everywhere I went, despite us not living under the same roof until recently. While it could be because he distrusted me, I sensed it was more than that. I knew it, even if neither of us could or would admit it.
After arriving in Scotland with those I'd traveled here with, I eventually settled in a local village under Clan Mackay's protection, until a few days ago, when Lachlann proposed we marry to keep me safe. Several nobles in the area had been eyeing me with interest, yet now, after the Battle of Largs, it would be safer to be with Lachlann. It would, of course, be a marriage of convenience, given he was my father’s age, but at least we shared a genuine friendship despite our age difference, which was more than most marriages started with.
“I will soon join you to check on Father,” Declan said when we neared the door to the back hall.
“I would expect nothing less,” I replied softly, doing as we had done over the past week when we snuck out to keep Soren’s second-in-command updated about his health. I entered before Declan, so the servants didn’t see us together and ask questions.
To be expected, given the late hour, the castle was quiet, so I made my way up to Lachlann’s chambers without crossing paths with anyone, only to hear him coughing from down the hall.
Known for my healing touch, it wouldn’t surprise anyone to find me up here tending to Lachlann after he’d nearly drowned, especially now that we were to marry.
Slowing near his door, I watched him sitting in front of the fire with my white husky Oksana, staring into the flames.
His shoulders were slumped in defeat, and there was no doubt a touch of sadness in his weary gaze eyes I had seen a time or two since meeting him.
Despite the warmth of the fire and the plaid blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders, he shivered ever so slightly.
That, combined with his pale, drawn skin, warned me he struggled more than he should to recover from his accident.
Handsome for his years with graying sandy blond hair and dark sea green eyes, he typically had the energy of a younger man, so now, I was worried.
“You need not linger at my threshold, lassie,” Lachlann rasped softly, managing a kind smile when he looked my way. “Come in and enjoy a wee dram with me, my friend.”
When Oksana remained by Lachlann’s side, rather than running over to greet me, I knew she sensed something was wrong with him.
“You should be in bed,” I chastised, grabbing a fur blanket off the bed and wrapping it around his shoulders. “Resting and healing. Not sitting up in this drafty castle drinking whisky.”
“’Tis warm enough in front of the fire,” he assured, thanking me for the extra blanket. “And ‘twill be warmer still with whisky in my belly.”
“Three mugs, then?” I asked, noting there were three wooden cups instead of the usual two reserved for him and Declan, enjoying a nightcap together.
“Aye,” he said. “I knew you would be by to check on me when I was too tired to see your sister off, so I figured tonight we three might share a dram and talk.” His gaze grew serious, if not a touch sad, again. “There are things we must discuss.”
“Of course.” Pouring whisky into all three cups, I became acutely aware of my talisman warming against my skin. More so, aware of a new heaviness in the room that bespoke a difficult conversation indeed. “As you wish, Lachlann.”
Tending to the fire next, I added a fresh log, wondering how long Declan intended to hover in the shadows of the hallway watching us, because I knew he did.
And I knew when he entered moments later that his hesitation had a great deal to do with the heaviness in the room.
One that had everything to do with his father not recovering as he should have.
I had felt that same heaviness when tending to my father after a bear attack years before, then again more recently when I nearly lost Soren.
“Sit, son.” Lachlann gestured at the chair beside him. “I thought, mayhap, Astrid could join us tonight.”
“If ‘tis your wish.” Declan sat, sipped his whisky, and frowned at his father. “Did you receive word of something happening in the brief time we were gone? Despite how careful we were, did someone hear of Soren’s presence?”
“Nay, all is well enough for now.” Lachlann took a small, tentative sip of whisky, wincing as if it pained him to swallow. “’Tis more matters within these walls for our ears only.”
When I sat on Lachlann’s other side, and my talisman continued warming, I knew whatever he was about to say would be profound. Life-changing. Hard to hear, if not outright painful, and I was right.
“Matters of things to come,” Lachlann went on softly, pulling free the handkerchief he’d been coughing into, only to reveal specks of blood. “Dire things, I would say.”
“Och, Da.” Declan’s gaze widened at the damning blood, and he cursed under his breath.
Clenching his jaw, worry flared in his gaze as he searched to make sense of this, however foolish his theory.
“’Twas that heathen saving you, aye? He cast a curse on you so you might suffer despite us harboring him and—”
“Stop,” I bit out, unable to bear it. Narrowing my eyes at Declan, I met his frown.
“Soren is not a heathen any more than I, nor do we know how to curse people.” Resting a comforting hand on Lachlann’s arm, I tried to keep in mind that Declan responded out of fear, given how close he was to his father.
Rather, I focused on Lachlann, trying to hide my own fear.
“I insist you get into bed so that I might care for you. ‘Tis crucial now more than ever that—”
“Nay, not right now, lass.” He looked back and forth between us before his gaze settled on Declan. “I will enjoy what might verra well be my last whisky with my two dearest friends and tell you my wishes.”
And so, he did, sharing the last thing we expected to hear.