Page 10 of Highlander's Wild Lass
“Nay, I’m nae alright,” Celestia said, nearly shouting. “Is that what ye want to hear, Anthony? My da is dyin’ and I’m tryin’ my best to keep us all fed and healthy.”
She sunk into the bench that sat just outside the house.
“Och, lass…” He was not all that sure what to do, but he knew he was concerned. She caught him looking and her mouth formed into a scowl.
“I daenae need pity from ye,” Celestia said, chest heaving as she struggled to calm her tears.
Anthony took a seat next to her. “I’m nae pityin’ ye.”
He reached out his hand and took hold of hers slowly. He could feel the hesitancy in it, she nearly pulled her hand away, but after a few seconds her hand relaxed and she cried.
She cried silently, hiding her face in the palm of her hand.
He wrapped his arm around her shoulders slowly and pulled her into him, letting her cry. He expected at any moment she would come to her senses and pull away, but she just buried her face into his shirt and sobbed.
Anthony stayed silent, unsure what to say to her. He wasn’t sure what he could do for her, but he felt a deep need to protect her that he didn’t quite understand. His heart went out to her, she had lost her mother after she gave birth to the twins all those years ago and now her father would probably be gone before the year ended.
“I’ll show that foul man,” she said, the worst of her tears over. She sat back up, wiping her eyes clear of tears as she lifted out of his embrace. “He just wants my da’s clients and business handed over to him, but I willnae let that happen.”
“I’ve nae doubt,” Anthony said quietly, giving her hand a good squeeze. “But I still think ye need help, lass. What can I do to help?”
Celestia grimaced. “Nothin’ from ye.”
She squeezed back before slipping out of his grasp. “Thank ye for sittin’ with me, nae many men ken how to handle emotions like that. And thank ye for nae lettin’ me bash that man’s head in.”
Anthony laughed. “I thought about lettin’ ye for a second.”
Celestia smiled wide as she stood. “Who kens, maybe one day?”
“Aye, lass, maybe one day,” he said, feeling a pang of need hit him unexpectedly when she smiled.
* * *
“How is Mr. McLean?” Anthony asked as he and the castle healer were on their way home.
“It’s nae good,” Helena MacMoore said. “It reminds me of yer poor maither. The raspin’ in his lungs, the strainin’ for air.”
“Oh,” he said, struggling to find words.
“It’s sad business.”
“Chief Moore!” one of his guards shouted from ahead in the road, waving his hands in the air.
Anthony ran to his guard. “What the hell is goin’ on?
The guard doubled over, gasping for breath. “It’s nae that urgent, except Chief McDunn is here. And he’s nae in a very good mood.”
“Is he ever?” he muttered darkly under his breath. Anthony clapped his guard on the back, shoulders relaxing slightly. There was no danger to the castle or its people. “Aye, I’ll see to it. Where is he?”
Behind his study door, he heard the muffled noises of McDunn and Sebastian. He took a slow inhale before opening the door. “Chief McDunn, what a pleasure.”
“Would ye like a glass of wine?” he said, pouring two glasses before McDunn could answer and handing one to him. He offered the chair opposite his desk as Anthony settled into his overstuffed desk chair. “Please sit.”
“Now, let’s get to business,” McDunn said, giving the glass a sniff before drinking. “Are ye to be betrothed to my daughter?”
“I cannae.”
McDunn slammed the wine glass on the desk, splashing bits of wine all over the papers that had taken over the desktop. “She would make a fine wife.”
