Page 51 of Her Highlander's Darkest Temptation
He’s been in a bad mood? Was it because of what happened?
She didn’t dare ask for any clarification, for fear of revealing what had happened in the shadows of the stables between herself and Donall. Instead, she gave Laird MacEwen a sympathetic smile and patted his arm. “I am sorry to hear that he has been in a poor mood.”
“’Tis nay fault o’ yers, lass. He’s never happy bein’ rendered unable tae fight.” Alex shook his head. “An’ in any case, I didnae come in here tae regale ye with me troubles. I came tae relieve yers.”
Lydia blushed and looked away. “’Tis nothing, Laird MacEwen.”
Laird MacEwen’s smile widened, a twinkle of humor in his gaze. “Och, lass, ye can call me Alex, or Alexander. I’ve never been one fer formality.”
“Even so, Laird…”
“Alex. I insist.” He winked at her, and Lydia couldn’t help smiling at his roguish expression.
“Ye insist on what?” A low growl made both of them turn as Donall strode into the light of the hearth fire.
One look at Donall’s expression told Lydia exactly what Laird MacEwen had meant when he said Donall was like a wounded wolf. He actually appeared to be on the verge of curling his lip and snarling. “What’s goin’ on here?”
“Lydia an’ I were just speakin’ tae each other. The lass seemed troubled, an’ I thought tae offer a friendly ear.” Laird MacEwen stepped forward, his hands held up in a placating manner.
“Aye? An’ what part o’ bein’ a friendly ear had ye insistin’ that she call ye by name?” Donall bit out the words, his Highland accent thicker than ever in his evident temper. “Or were ye hopin’ tae set yerself up with her on more friendly terms, like the ones ye’re on with the tavern lasses?”
“Laird Ranald!” Lydia stared at him, shocked at his rudeness. “There’s no call to be so rude…”
“’Tis all right lass. I think I ken what’s botherin’ him.” Alex flashed her a brief, somewhat strained smile. “An’ given that, I think I’ll take me leave o’ ye both fer the evening. I suspect the two o’ ye need tae talk.”
With that, he offered both of them a brief bow, gave Lydia another wry smile, then turned and left the library.
As soon as the door shut behind him, Lydia whirled to face Donall. “What was the meaning of such behavior, my laird? I thought Laird MacEwen was your friend.”
“He is. An’ I asked ye tae call me Donall.” He stepped closer. “I thought he might be pressurin’ ye…”
“You knew very well he was doing nothing of the sort. Your friend is an honorable man.” Lydia retorted. Her own temperwas beginning to rise in response to his evasions. “And if you wish me to call you Donall, then you might well explain your atrocious behavior.”
“There’s naething tae explain.” Donall’s scowl was a forbidding thing, and Lydia might well have quailed under that glare at a different time, but now she was too irritated with his high-handed behavior to care. “I was just defendin’ yer honor.”
“My honor was never endangered. Not until you stormed in here growling like a bear being poked by a stick.” Lydia snapped back. “And you have yet to explain yourself.”
“I told ye, there’s naught tae explain…”
Exasperated, Lydia reached into the pocket of her apron and withdrew a small, folded sheet of paper. “If you will not answer me for any other reason, then I shall insist you give me an honest answer in exchange for this.”
She handed him the paper. Donall took it and unfolded it. His brow furrowed as he read the short contents. “One wish tae be redeemed by Laird Ranald, within limits.”
“Indeed. It is the wish I won in our chess match. I choose to redeem it for this. Tell me the true reason for your actions earlier today, and your unwarranted hostility toward Laird MacEwen just now… and not just now. I saw the same anger in your eyes the day I bandaged his wound, the day I became Evelyn’s apprentice.”
“I’ve already told ye…”
“You have told me nothing, except a weak excuse. If you can do no better than that, my laird, then I…”
“I’ve fallen fer ye.” The words were a low growl, almost a snarl, well-matched by the look of frustration and passion that burned in his eyes. “I never wanted tae, never intended it, but watchin’ ye, talkin’ with ye, seein’ ye every day…the more I tried tae understand ye, the more I became entranced by ye.”
The stark admission shocked the anger from Lydia, startling her from her indignation. “You… what?”
Donall took four quick steps forward and, before Lydia had time to realize what he was planning, he pulled her into a strong embrace. Strong arms wrapped around her, a husky voice in her ear whispered words she’d both hoped and feared to hear. “I’ve never felt fer any other woman what I feel fer ye. Seein’ ye laugh with Alex was like bein’ poked with a red-hot poker in the gut, even though I ken there’s naught between ye. I’ve tried tae put ye at arms length an’ I’ve tried tae keep ye close without lettin’ ye under me guard, but ‘tis nae use.”
“You… you… care for me?”
“More than I have words fer.” The admission was made in a voice so rough Lydia thought his throat must hurt as much as her heart did.
