Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Duncan was just about to dismiss Iain when a sharp knock struck the study door. Both men turned toward it.
“Enter,” Duncan called.
The door creaked open and one of the younger guards stepped inside, with his helmet tucked beneath his arm. In his hand he carried a folded letter sealed with dark red wax.
“Fer ye, me laird,” the man said, stepping forward.
Duncan took the letter, his fingers brushing over the heavy parchment. The seal was unfamiliar at first glance, though the crest pressed into the wax quickly sharpened his attention. A stag beneath a crown of thorns.
Fraser.
Duncan broke the seal without answering. The parchment crackled softly as he unfolded it, and the ink spilled across the page. His eyes proceeded to move slowly over the words.
Tae Duncan Grant, Laird of Castle Grant,
Word reaches me that tensions grow again in the north, and that Laird Lachlan MacKenzie has begun extending his influence farther than is wise fer any one man.
Ye will have heard, nay doubt, that I once promised me daughter’s hand tae MacKenzie. That arrangement was made during a season when such a union appeared politically convenient.
Circumstances, however, have a way of changing.
Recent developments have made it clear tae me that an alliance with Lachlan MacKenzie would serve neither me interests nor the stability of the Highlands.
Ye are therefore free tae ken that nay binding promise now stands between me house and his.
If it should suit ye, I would be willing tae offer me daughter’s hand in marriage tae ye instead.
Such a union would secure an alliance between our clans, an alliance that would carry considerable weight should MacKenzie attempt tae extend his reach any further.
Should ye accept, ye would nae stand alone against him. Me men, me lands, and me influence would stand beside yers.
Consider this carefully, Laird Grant.
I believe we may serve each other well.
Laird Alasdair Fraser
Duncan finished reading the letter and stood very still for a moment, the parchment loose between his fingers. The study felt suddenly smaller. Across the writing table, Iain cleared his throat.
“Well?”
Duncan did not answer at once. Instead, he folded the letter carefully, then held it out.
“Read it.”
Iain stepped forward and took the parchment. The room fell quiet again as he read. Duncan moved away from the writing table while he waited, crossing toward the window. He rested one hand on the stone ledge, staring out over the courtyard though he barely saw it.
Behind him, Iain reached the end of the letter. He let out a slow breath.
“That,” he said, tapping the letter lightly with one finger, “would solve several problems at once.”
Duncan turned fully, leaning one shoulder against the window frame. He didn’t say anything yet.
“Fraser’s men would strengthen our position considerably. Lachlan MacKenzie would think twice before moving against two allied clans.”
Duncan still said nothing.
“And,” Iain continued, his tone turning faintly amused, “it would satisfy the Council.”
“That alone makes me suspicious,” Duncan huffed quietly.
Iain grinned. “Ye cannae deny that the timing is convenient.”
“A little too convenient if ye ask me.”
“Perhaps,” Iain said, folding the letter again. “But Laird Fraser has always been a practical man.”
He extended the parchment back across the writing table.
“And if his daughter was previously promised tae MacKenzie, this arrangement solves his problem as well.”
Duncan took the letter again, though he did not immediately unfold it.
“Ye sound rather eager.”
“I am a soldier,” Iain shrugged with a smile. “Alliances that strengthen the clan tend tae appeal tae me.”
Duncan stared at the seal pressed into the wax for a long moment.
“I cannae make this decision yet.”
Iain’s brows drew together. “Why nae?”
Duncan’s jaw tightened slightly. “Because…”
Slowly, understanding dawned on Iain’s face.
“The healer.”
Duncan did not bother denying it. Iain crossed his arms.
“That,” he said, “is nae the answer the Council will expect.”
“The Council is nae the one living with the consequences of the decision.”
“And Elaina is?”
Duncan exhaled slowly. “I dinnae yet ken what she is.”
Iain watched him carefully. “But ye intend tae find out.”
Duncan looked down at the letter again, and the parchment suddenly felt heavier in his hand.
“Aye,” he said quietly. Then he added, almost to himself, “I need time tae think.”
The castle was still sleeping when Elaina slipped quietly into the courtyard. The sky had only just begun to pale, and the first thin light of dawn was barely touching the edges of the hills beyond the walls. The air carried that particular chill that belonged to the hour before sunrise.
Most of the castle would not stir for another hour. That was precisely why she had gone there.
Elaina crossed the courtyard with careful steps, having her cloak wrapped tightly around her shoulders as she made her way toward the stables. A lantern hung near the entrance. She followed its dim flame, which was casting long golden shadows across the worn wooden doors.
Inside, the warm scent of hay and horse greeted her immediately. The quiet there was different from the stillness of her chamber. It was alive in soft breaths and the gentle shift of hooves against straw. She exhaled slowly, some small knot of tension inside her loosening at once.
“Aye,” she murmured softly to herself.
It felt familiar. Elaina moved deeper into the stable, running her fingers lightly along the wooden stall doors as she passed. A grey mare lifted her head curiously as Elaina approached, her ears flicking forward.
“Good morning,” Elaina whispered.
The horse snorted quietly, as though returning the greeting. Elaina smiled and reached through the stall to stroke the mare’s neck, as her hand moved slowly along the warm, solid muscle. The steady rhythm of the horse’s breathing grounded her in a way few things ever had.
It had always been that way. Back home, before everything had changed, the stables had been the one place where she could escape the constant watchfulness of the household.
Horses did not ask questions. They did not judge.
They simply existed. And in their quiet presence, she had always found peace.
“I suppose it is true what they say, lass,” she murmured, resting her forehead briefly against the mare’s warm neck, “old habits dae die very hard.”
“So it would seem.”
Elaina tensed, not having expected to hear anyone’s vice.
She turned quickly, only to find Duncan standing just inside the doorway.
The faint dawn light was outlining his broad frame.
His cloak hung loosely over one shoulder and his dark hair was still slightly disordered from sleep, as though he had risen only moments before.
Still, he looked entirely too awake for such an early hour.
Elaina blinked.
“I didnae hear ye come in.”
Duncan stepped further into the stable.
“That’s because ye were busy talking tae me horse.”
Elaina glanced at the grey mare.
“She listens better than most people.”
Duncan’s mouth curved faintly. “Aye. That’s probably true.”
He stopped a few paces away, his gaze drifting briefly around the stable before settling back on her.
“Most people choose the chapel if they’re looking fer peace before sunrise.”
“I prefer this.” Elaina smiled softly.
Duncan tilted his head slightly. “The stables?”
“Aye.”
She ran her hand once more along the mare’s neck before stepping back from the stall. The horse shifted beneath her touch, and her breath was puffing softly into the cool air of the stable. Elaina lingered there for a moment, savoring the quiet. Behind her, Duncan moved closer.
“Ye ken, I was planning tae ride intae the woods,” he answered without being asked.
Elaina turned slightly. “Och?”
“Aye.” His gaze flicked toward the open stable door where the pale dawn was beginning to stretch across the courtyard. “There are a few patrol paths I prefer tae check meself now and then.”
He paused. “Seeing ye’re already here, ye could come with me.”
The suggestion caught her off guard. “With ye?”
“If ye’d like, of course.”
Elaina considered it, glancing briefly toward the distant line of trees beyond the castle walls. A thoughtful smile touched her lips.
“There are certain herbs that grow there,” she admitted. “Plants that prefer shade and damp soil. I have nae yet had the chance tae look fer them.”
Duncan’s brow lifted slightly.
“Well then,” he said, gesturing toward the row of horses, “it seems we both have business in the same direction.”
Elaina hesitated only a moment longer before nodding.
“Very well.”
Duncan stepped forward at once, selecting a sturdy bay gelding from one of the stalls. The horse stamped lightly as he saddled it with practiced efficiency, as if proud to show off his quick and confident movements. Elaina watched him work for a moment before he turned back toward her.
“Come.”
He offered his hand. She accepted it. His grip was warm and strong as he guided her toward the horse.
“Foot here,” he said quietly, placing her boot against the stirrup.
She was an excellent rider, but she chose to keep that to herself.
With effortless ease he lifted her upward, steadying her waist as she swung into the saddle.
Elaina settled herself quickly, smoothing her cloak around her legs.
She had barely gathered the reins when Duncan mounted behind her.
The horse shifted slightly beneath the added weight.
Elaina froze. She had not expected that. Duncan’s chest brushed lightly against her back as he settled into the saddle, with one arm reaching past her to take the reins.
The closeness was immediate and utterly overwhelming. She felt the warmth of him even through the layers of clothing between them. She momentarily shivered, but it was not from the morning cold.
“Must we ride thegither?” she asked, trying to keep the tension from her voice. “It would be more… comfortable tae ride separately.”
Duncan leaned slightly closer, and she could feel his breath warm near her ear.
“It would nae be the first time,” she heard him say.
Her heart gave a violent, traitorous leap. She remembered riding like that with him before, and suddenly, a tidal wave of warmth exploded from the very depths of her abdomen and spread throughout her entire body.
“That was different,” she almost snarled, banishing the thought from her mind.
“Was it now?” he asked, and there was a hint of amusement in it. “This way,” he added calmly, “we’ll be faster.”
Elaina knew that tone. It was practical and reasonable.
It was also infuriatingly difficult to argue with.
And yet, the awareness of him behind her made it almost impossible to breathe normally.
She could feel the steady rise and fall of his chest. She could lean into the strength in the arm holding the reins.
But she refused to inhale the faint scent of leather and pine clinging to him.
She absolutely refused to… as if such a thing were possible.
“Just try tae…” she started, adjusting herself in the seat, “keep tae yerself.”
He chuckled quietly. “Of course.”
Before she could protest further, he nudged the horse forward. The animal stepped smoothly out of the stable and into the cool dawn light. Elaina sat very still in the saddle. There was no graceful way to refuse now.
And as the horse carried them toward the forest path, the tension between them felt almost unbearable.