Chapter 4 #2
“It’s nae my parents,” Nora said swiftly, a waspish look coming upon her face. She liked to think that her parents would never have approved of this. “I told ye my brother is laird. My parents died years ago.”
Callan softened a little and when she looked at him, Nora detected a glimmer of genuine emotion in his eyes.
“As did mine. The Highlands can be cruel tae good people. Let’s toast tae those who shall never be forgotten,” he raised his glass.
Nora did the same and forced herself to take another gulp of this foul liquid. Another layer had been peeled away from this mysterious man, and she was surprised to find that they had something so raw in common.
“That must hae been hard for ye. Did ye hae any siblings?” she asked.
Callan shook his head. “Nae, I was alone,” he replied, and his words were imbued with such emotion, and his eyes so haunted by the past, that she felt connected to him beyond the physical distance that existed between them.
In that fleeting moment she sensed his loneliness, his despair, how he had been forced to fend for himself from a young age.
It was no wonder that he isolated himself in the forest.
“Perhaps ye are better off that way,” Nora said with a wry smile.
Callan grinned. “Ye brother is a bad egg then?”
“Something like that. He just lets his vices get the better of him, and I’m the one who hae tae fix things.”
“Well, someone hae tae. Some men are like that though, they hae nae self-control.”
“Are ye telling me that ye dinnae hae any vices?”
A rakish smile spread across Callan’s face. There was a gleam in his eye that was more intoxicating than the ale.
“I may hae a few,” he said, his voice laced with hidden meaning.
At the same time as he spoke there was a susurration in Nora’s heart, but before she could inquire about these vices and before he could share, there was a commotion at the door as a group of guards shuffled in, demanding drinks loudly.
Nora noticed how the other patrons in the bar turned their shoulders and tried to make themselves look small. The smile fell from Callan’s face as well.
“Looks as though yer escort hae arrived,” he said, jerking his head towards the guards.
Nora felt a sense of reluctance overwhelm her. Although she knew she should approach the guards, a part of her wanted to remain with Callan. Still, there was no delaying the inevitable. She rose with practiced poise and approached the guards, who were lined up against the bar.
Nora cleared her throat. “Excuse me,” she said.
The nearest guard turned to her. He had long shaggy hair and a dark beard. His breath was stale and his fingers were as thick as sausages. There was a hungry look in his eye as his gaze roamed about her body, and she was immediately filled with a sense of revulsion.
“Ach, what dae we hae here? Ye are a pretty thing,” he said.
Nora ignored his words and lifted her head, looking down her nose at him.
“I’m Lady Nora Sinclair, betrothed to Laird MacPherson. I was on my way tae the Keep when we were attacked by bandits. The guard escorting me was killed. I seek passage tae the Keep,” she said.
The guard stared at her blankly and then laughed in her face.
“Ye expect me tae believe that the Laird’s bride is in some moldy inn?” he laughed, shaking his head. “How strong is this ale?”
Nora’s face flushed with color.
“I told ye my carriage was attacked. This was the nearest village. Now, I demand that ye take me tae Laird MacPherson,” Nora said, getting more irritated with the man.
His laughter turned bitter and a snide look came upon his face.
His lips parted, as though the skin of a rotten apple was being peeled open, but he was interrupted from speaking by one of his companions.
They tugged at his arm and got him to turn around.
“Dinnae ye hear about the wedding?” they said.
“Wedding? What wedding?”
“The Laird’s wedding. What did ye say yer name was?” the other guard asked, peering over the first guard’s shoulder.
“Lady Nora Sinclair.”
“I think that’s her. Maybe we should take her, just in case. If she’s telling the truth and Laird MacPherson finds out that she came tae us for help and we refused her…” he trailed away.
For as brutish and intimidating as the first man was, clearly the threat of incurring Laird MacPherson’s wrath was enough to persuade him that he was wrong. The bitterness remained in his eyes, but he seemed more frustrated now than angry.
“Very well. Ye can wait until ye finish our drinks though,” he replied.
“Actually, there is someone I need tae thank first. He rescued me. I owe him my life. If ye would give him some coin as reward I’ll make sure the Laird compensates ye, and ye will forever be in his good grace,” Nora said.
The guard balked at this and seemed keen to refuse, but again his companion interfered, whispering in his ear. Reluctantly, the guard agreed.
Nora turned to gaze at Callan, sitting in the shadows at the corner of the room. There was still so much she didn’t know about him and a part of her was sad that their time together had proven to be so short, but it was impossible to stay with him.
He was dashing and rough, and there was a shudder that passed through her heart that she supposed was wrong of her to feel, especially when she was to be married to another.
The guard handed her a coin pouch and she returned to Callan.
Callan’s hand rested near his hip, ready to unsheathe his dagger from its hidden resting place in case the guards tried to attack.
He found himself smirking as Nora gave as good as she got.
There was an impressive strength to her as she stood up to the guard that was almost twice her size.
Her head was held high and he could hear the firm tone of her voice.
It was a shame that she would be wasted on Laird MacPherson.
A lass like her, why, she deserved someone who would appreciate her spirit, not seek to break it.
Still, it couldn’t be helped, and she would yet have her use.
The favor of a Laird’s wife might come to bear fruit in the future.
Perhaps years from now he could go to her and implore her for some great kindness, and she would be unable to refuse since, as far as she knew anyway, she owed him her life.
Nora took something from the guard and then came back to Callan.
“This is tae say thanks for rescuing me and keeping me safe. I dinnae like tae think what would hae happened hae ye nae been there. The thought of those bandits… well, ye hae delivered me safely and now I shall be on my way. Thank ye,” she said, and handed him a pouch filled with coins.
Callan’s eyes widened with anticipation as he took the pouch and felt the weight of the coins in his palm.
This would go a long way to helping the orphans.
But what struck him even more profoundly was the weight of her fingers pressing against his.
They only brushed together for a slight moment, but it was enough to create a great sweeping wave passing through him, one that almost left him wrong-footed.
“It was my pleasure, lass. I just hope ye dinnae find yerself in need of assistance again. I wish ye luck, and if our paths should ever cross again I hope ye think fondly of me,” he said.
An expression he could not discern came upon her face. It was almost like a smile, but not quite.
She tilted her head then turned away, her hair falling over her shoulder, her hips swaying. He gripped the coin purse tightly, unsure why he should be so frustrated that she was leaving him.
That was the nature of life of course. People came and went.
Tides flowed. Seasons changed. Everything was transient and that was for the best, because connections with other people made him vulnerable.
The closer he allowed people to get, the greater the chance there was of them learning the truth, and Nora had made it quite clear how she felt about outlaws.
Still, he stared at the guards and didn’t like the way they looked at her. His irritation grew, but he remained at his table until they all left, deciding that, eventually, the attack on the carriage had ended up being profitable indeed.
“Here’s tae ye, lass,” he said quietly, raising his mug at Nora.
She would need all the luck in the world if she was to endure a marriage to Laird MacPherson after all.