Page 58 of Healing the Highland Sinner
Whatever this was between them was sure to be complicated. But for the first time in a very long time, she welcomed it. It was the last thought she had before drifting away into a sleep more peaceful than she’d had in longer than she could recall.
CHAPTER 26
The sun was bright, the sky clear, and despite what had happened at Rosalind’s compound the night before and the aches and pains that gripped his body, Ellair was in a good mood. He’d given thought to slipping out in the middle of the night to meet Laird Gunn, but he couldn’t risk Rosalind noticing. He didn’t particularly care for the idea of making Laird Gunn wait for him, but he knew the man would. The mission was too critical.
Besides, he had enjoyed sleeping the night through with Rosalind’s warm, soft body pressed to his. It made him feel whole in ways he never knew he could feel. Without even trying, she showed him pieces within his heart and soul that had been missing. Never in his wildest dreams, or craziest, ale-soaked imaginings did Ellair ever think he could feel for somebody the way he felt for Rosalind.
If he was being honest with himself, he had to admit that it was both disconcerting and exhilarating. The thought that he had allowed himself to care for somebody was terrifying. Hehad long ago vowed to never open his heart to anybody. To never take anything too seriously as life and relationships were all temporary, fleeting things. But he felt like he’d found a place with Rosalind he had never imagined existed. Home.
When he woke that morning and found her s looking back at him, her full, soft lips curled up in a smile, he knew that he was no longer lost. He’d been found. After a quick but passionate lovemaking session, he told her that he had to go meet his contact, to see if there was a way they could get out from under their entanglements with Laird Sinclair and she had agreed to let him go. She’d told him to seek whatever help they could get for themselves, but most especially for Blaine.
To that end, he’d come into town and immediately found a man who’d been supplying him with information. Gesturing to him subtly, the man met him in a gloomy alley a few streets off the main harbor. Though daylight reigned over the town, the shadowy figures still had eyes and ears all over and Ellair didn’t wish to have this man spotted talking to him.
“I ken what ye’re goin’ tae ask,” he said.
“Dae ye now?”
He nodded, his movements quick and birdlike. “Aye. ‘Tis all anybody’s talkin’ about—in quiet tones, of course,” he said. “Ye ventured where ye shouldnae have gone. What were ye thinkin’ slippin’ intae Laird Sinclair’s compound? Have ye gone mad?”
Ellair rubbed his jaw. “’Tis possible.”
“Ye’re lucky he didnae kill ye out at the Widow’s place last night.”
“Nae fer lack of tryin’.”
The man scoffed. “He wasnae tryin’ tae kill ye. If he had wanted ye dead, ye’d be dead. Ye can count on that,” he said. “He wants ye alive. Put a bounty on yer head, he did.”
A wry grin twisted Ellair’s lips. “And ye’ve nae turned me in yerself?”
“Thought about it,” he replied with a chuckle. “But ye pay better. Ye’re also nae an arse tae deal with. Besides, I dinnae trust that man tae actually pay up if I brought ye tae him.”
“’Tis good tae ken. I appreciate yer trust in me.”
“’Tis nae ye I trust. ‘Tis them gold coins ye give me I trust.”
Ellair laughed. “Fair enough. What else have ye heard?”
“The lad ye went tae Sinclair’s compound lookin’ fer… he’s gone.”
Ellair felt the bottom of his stomach fall out as his throat grew dry. “Gone? As in?—”
“Nay. Moved elsewhere,” he said. “Way I hear it, Sinclair has some use fer him. Dinnae ken what it is, but ‘tis keepin’ thae lad alive. Fer now, anyway.”
Ellair nodded as a feeling of relief swept over him. Rosalind had been right about Blaine being more valuable alive than dead to Sinclair and that he would continue to leverage her against her brother’s fate to keep her under his thumb. At least until he found somebody who was as good at smuggling his cargo as she was.
“Hear anythin’ else?” Ellair asked.
“Other than Sinclair wants yer head? Nah.”
“All right. Thanks,” Ellair said as he pulled a couple of coins from his purse and handed them over. “Ye’ll let me ken if ye hear anythin’ more, eh?”
“Dinnae I always?”
The man tucked the coins away then turned and bounded off, leaving Ellair standing alone in the alley thinking about what he’d just heard. The good news was that Blaine was still alive. The bad news was that he might not be much longer. With a bounty on his head, every man with a blade and a need for coin would be looking for him.
But that was a problem for another day. He pulled his cloak up, hiding his face in the shadows of the hood, and made forthe even less seemly part of Thurso. A brisk ten-minute walk brought him to the door of the Seafarer, one of the seemingly endless roster of inns and taverns in the port town. He pushed through the door and stepped into the dimly lit common room. There were only half a dozen men seated at tables, most of them with shoulders slumped and vacant eyes staring into their cups. Nobody paid him any mind as he walked in.
The fireplace was cold and unlit, though the smell of last night’s fire still lingered in the air, blending with the smell of pipe smoke and a host of other, less pleasant aromas. Ellair spotted Laird Gunn seated in the far corner of the room, back to the wall, his eyes fixed on him. He walked over and took a seat. The barmaid bustled over and set a pair of cups down in front of them.
