Chapter 7 #11
She finished riffling through the only trunk in the room one more time.
As she could have guessed, it still held nothing but extra candles and linens.
Of course there would be nothing of value in a guest chamber, but best to be thorough.
With all the rooms and nooks and crannies to be found in a castle of this size, not to mention the grounds within the walls, it could take weeks or even months to search everywhere.
How did one go about searching an entire castle, and do so while being under suspicion of spying?
As she pondered this dilemma yet again, she went to the chamber door and found that at least she had not been locked in after slipping out last night; the door opened easily.
She was mildly surprised that there was no guard posted outside her chamber either, but she did not doubt that she was being watched.
She heaved a sigh and started quietly down the hallway.
She had just begun, and already she felt entirely deceitful.
Why on earth had they chosen her to do this?
Surely someone with less of a conscious would have been the better choice.
Several people came easily to mind, such as her childhood friend Flora.
There was certainly no one less principled than Flora in all of the highlands, she thought with a fond smile.
She could see by the light streaming into the hall that one of the doors near the end of the corridor stood open.
When she reached it and looked in, she caught her breath at the sight of books, perhaps a hundred of them, lining a shelf which soared from floor to ceiling.
The shelf flanked a grand window in the center of the far wall, which overlooked the loch and the mountains beyond.
Drawing in a reverent breath, Ella stepped into the room, and tearing her eyes away from the spectacular view, she turned her attention to the small library.
The room itself was extravagant. Rich carpets lined the floor, and the wood of the walls and trim was polished to a gleam.
But the books… she had always loved books, had quite a few of her own at home.
Well, five, but that was still far more than most people had.
She brushed her fingers softly across the volumes, eagerly reading their titles.
Could what she sought be a book? A volume of forgotten lore or long lost magic?
An enchanted text, perhaps? It certainly made sense, but even so, it would take a while to find among so many, and how would she know which it was?
She began scanning the titles, occasionally pulling out a volume that caught her eye, before carefully replacing it.
She was so absorbed in her investigation that she didn’t even hear Ceann come up behind her.
Suddenly feeling that she was no longer alone, Ella turned around and gave a startled shriek.
Without thought, she struck Ceann’s steely chest with one small fist.
“Ow!” She shook her now throbbing hand. “God, you scared me! Don’t do that!”
Ceann fought back a look of astonishment.
Had she really just hit him? No woman had ever hit him before, even thought he knew he had deserved it on more than one occasion.
Well, apart from Maggie, but she had known him since he was a boy, and he had deserved it then, too.
Ella did not cower when he raged at her; she did not lower her eyes when he met her gaze, and now she was beating him.
It was…. fascinating. Her spirit was like a wild thing he wanted to possess.
He caught her fist as she raised it to pummel him a second time.
He thought for a moment she might have trembled at his touch, and he looked into her eyes.
No, there was no fear there. Still holding her fist, he raised an eyebrow at her.
“Don’t do what, lass? I’m laird of Tulloch; I can do whatever I please. ”
She exhaled, and gave him a look of exasperation. “Don’t sneak up behind me and scare me half to death.” She pulled at her fist, and he released it, wary lest she try to use it on him again.
“Tell me then, what you are doing in here”.
She narrowed her eyes at him defiantly. She was so full of fire, and Ceann imagined for just a fleeting moment that he could have such a woman for his own, be the one to tame her, to bend her to his will... to…
“I’m looking at your books. Where ever did you get so many?” She tried but could not completely keep the awe out of her voice. To have this many volumes in one place…
He shrugged. “Most were my father’s. He collected them. Some were his father’s before. Some are mine.”
“I love books. Would you mind if I borrowed one? I mean, since I am not free to leave…”
“You can read?” he asked, in what he hoped was a tone of indifference.
She looked offended. “Of course I can read.”
He had not really needed any proof, but here it was; she had unwittingly given him a clue.
She was well-born, for certain. There were almost no commoners in the highlands who could read, and even fewer of them women.
That fact made it all the less likely that he had found her on her own for innocent reasons.
If she could read, she could perhaps try to intercept his personal correspondence.
Something was definitely afoot here, and he would find out what if he had to follow her around every minute of the day, until she gave herself away with some misstep.
He leaned closer to see the title of the book she still held in her hand, but then his nostrils flared as he caught her scent, soft and sweet and womanly.
Heaven. The world seemed to swirl and close in around him until her nearness was the only thing he was aware of.
He could feel his heart pounding against the wall of his chest, and in that moment he suddenly could not think of one reason why he shouldn’t kiss her.
He stared down at her up-turned face, captivated.
She returned his gaze, her blue eyes rimmed in dark lashes, her pink mouth looking soft and lush.
His lips drifted inexorably towards hers.
He saw her eyes widen in surprise, then drift shut as her breath hitched and her lips parted a little more.
Just one taste of her... surely it was his right as her captor…
as laird. Lower, lower; he could not stop himself.
His lips brushed lightly over hers, and the jolt of heat and fire that flared though his body at the soft touch took his breath.
He knew his mistake in an instant; he would never be the same.
It would never be enough… the wanting of her would surely kill him.
The thudding sound of running on the stairs brought him abruptly back to himself.
He dropped his hands from where they gripped her arms, not even knowing how they had gotten there, and stepped back, just in time to see Gregor peer through the open door.
Catching sight of Ceann, he rushed into the room, all out of breath and clearly agitated.
“Laird, there you are! I’ve been looking everywhere.” He stopped short when he noticed Ella. “Oh, am I… interrupting?”
“No.” Ceann snapped. “What is it Gregor?”
“Men spotted at the border, south of here, armed”.
“Who are they?” Ceann asked, trying not to sound as flustered as he felt.
“I can't say, they showed no colors, and we were just out on a regular patrol, so we didn’t have enough men with us to get close enough to find out.”
“Most likely MacDonalds again. They’re growing bolder by the day with this outlandish quest to conquer all of the highlands.
They are naught but a thorn in our side!
Let’s go, then.” Ceann followed Gregor out of the room without a backward glance, rushing to the stables, stopping only to don the rest of his weapons.
His men-at-arms were already there, eager and ready to fight.
He hastily gave orders to a couple of men who were to stay behind and guard Ella; he didn’t want her taking the opportunity to run off.
The men grumbled under their breath a bit at missing the possibility of a battle, but obeyed their laird without question.