Chapter 10 #2
Two of his guards were speaking quietly, unaware that their laird stood only a few paces away.
“She’s good fortune,” one man said.
“Aye,” the other answered. “Have ye seen the keep since she came? Folks are laughin’ again. Even Beth has stopped threatenin’ to murder the kitchen boys.”
A low chuckle followed then the first man sighed.
“Let us hope the Dragon doesnae burn her. If that happens, then we shall ken he is truly cursed.”
Gordon stood very still as he heard the words. It shouldnae have mattered to him. He had been called worse.
Monster, Dragon Laird… Cursed Laird.
He had heard those names from frightened villagers and men who had never taken the time to know him. Yet this one struck somewhere deeper. His gaze fell to his hands, and he saw them tremble before he walked away. He didn’t trust himself to respond to the gossip.
Because a bit of what they say is true.
Having Ailis in his keep was more than just the inconvenience he thought it was. It was bad luck for her. She would be married into a keep where the people feared their laird and believed him to be cursed.
And she will come to resent me just like them.
Gordon swallowed but did not falter in his strides.
The stone passage was colder than the yard outside, and he walked past the quiet halls before stepping out through another door to the gardens where he suspected Ailis might be. And he was not wrong. She stood there alone in the dark, her arms crossed in front of her body as she rocked herself.
Gordon faltered in his strides at the sight of the wind blowing over her hair and carrying strands around her.
The clouds had parted, revealing a scattering of stars above the hills. Moonlight rested upon the grass and silvered the edges of the stone walls. Her hair moved softly in the night breeze, loose from its pins now, and her hands were clasped before her.
Gordon’s chest ached as he watched her standing alone.
Go back.
He had found her, and he did not need to stay and watch her. Yet his eyes stayed on her.
We arenae even married yet, and I already make her cry. What will happen if this union forges ahead?
He hated the bitter taste that thought left at the back of his tongue.
The thought struck him harder than he expected. Gordon had no knowledge of how to handle the sensations running through him at once.
His uncle had never taught him. Alistair had taught him how to fight. To endure pain and read the enemy’s weakness.
He taught me to survive a winter night with nay fire. Nay to console a cryin’ lass.
Gordon took one step backward, wanting to leave quietly, but the gravel shifted beneath his boot and interrupted the silence.
Ailis turned. Her blue eyes found him immediately, and still, they were bright with tears. She blinked quickly then lifted her hand and wiped beneath one eye as if she could erase the evidence before he saw it.
Too late. He had seen.
“Me Laird,” she said softly.
He did not answer at once. He wanted to go to her, but he did not know what he would do next if he did.
Gordon found his voice instead, and even though it shook, he managed, “I didnae mean for me singin’ to upset ye, Ma’am.”
Ailis dragged in an audible breath as she turned to face him fully, and he moved without thinking because he was drawn to her.
“Me mother used to sing that song,” Ailis said. “I daenae remember much of it,” she continued. “Nay truly. But hearing ye play it…” Her fingers curled against her skirts. “It brought somethin’ back.”
Gordon’s throat tightened. “I am sorry,” he said.
Ailis shook her head. “Ye have nothin’ to be sorry for. It only reminded me of me mother.”
Gordon did not know what to say. He stood there with his hands at his sides, feeling the cold night settle over his shoulders and something far warmer gathering beneath his ribs. Then he finally stepped toward her.
“I daenae remember much of me own parents,” he began. The words surprised him. He had never shared that with anyone.
Ailis’s expression changed. The hurt in her eyes softened into something that made him want to inch closer to her.
“Me uncle took me when I was a wee lad,” Gordon continued. “He raised me.”
Ailis’ brows drew together. “Did he treat ye well?”
Gordon looked away because he feared his eyes would give it all away. He recalled the cold chamber below the castle floors where he slept and the endless nights training to fight. He recalled the first time he wielded a sword and his own wounds from it.
He could tell her none of that, so he said instead, “He taught me to be strong.”.
Ailis watched him. “What else did he teach ye?”
Gordon’s jaw tightened. He could still hear Alistair’s voice.
Pain is weakness leavin’ the body. Daenae cry, boy!
He remembered the wooden practice blade and the bruises along his ribs from training. He remembered learning to swallow every emotion and how to never trust anyone.
Gordon looked at Ailis. She stood before him beneath the moonlight, eyes bright, face open, waiting for an answer. He could not give her one.
Because if I do, she might understand me.
And if she understood him, she might stay. And if she stayed…
He might begin to enjoy the light she carried into his life. He realized with a shiver racing through him that that frightened him more than any enemy.
Gordon stepped back, and Ailis’ expression fell slightly.
“It is a cold night,” he said instead. The words sounded useless even to him, but it was all he could give her. “Ye should retire early, Ma’am.”
Ailis stared at him, blinking. Then her mouth pulled into a tight line. “As ye wish, Me Laird,” she answered with a note of finality he appreciated.
At least, it put an end to the madness he was letting drag him down.