Page 58 of Her Highlander's Darkest Temptation
The top of the tower wasn’t empty as he’d expected it to be. His gut clenched.
“Lydia.”
“My laird.” Her voice was soft, revealing nothing.
“Why are ye out here?” For one moment, he thought she might have been lying in wait for him. Then he dismissed the thought. After all, how could she have known he would come here, when he’d had no idea himself where his footsteps would take him?
“I used to like to find places to hide from my uncle and his lectures and lessons. The tower nearest my rooms was one of my favorite places, because you used to have to go through the storerooms, so Elswith - my maid - could make excuses and watch out for me.” The words were slow and thoughtful, but there was a quality to them, some note that he hadn’t been paying attention to or been aware of, that made him feel in his gut that she was telling the truth.
After a moment of consideration, Donall stepped closer. “’Tis a good place tae stand an’ think.”
“It is.” There was a moment of silence. “I am sorry for lying to you… Donall. My laird.”
“Donall is fine.” He had no desire to be called ‘my laird’ by Lydia. “I ken ye were frightened.”
“Even so, I should have told you the truth.” She glanced at him, then away, and even in the moonlight he could see shame on her face. “If not when you rescued me, then before… I am sorry. But I could not think of a way to broach the subject.”
“I asked fer yer name.”
“I know.” Her admission was quiet. “But all I wanted was to hide for a few days, until my wound got better. To learn, make some coin and disappear quietly into the Highlands, until I could find somewhere safe. And even when I began to think I might not wish to disappear… I was not sure how to change my behaviors. I was not sure you would believe me, or help me after I deceived you. And I thought that if I told you the truth, it would just put you in a difficult position, that it was best you never found out. I wanted to protect you and the clan.”
“I will protect ye. I promise ye that. Me word o’ honor.” Donall blinked, but even as he wondered at his own words, he felt something inside him settle, the awareness of a decision made soothing some of his frustration and irritation. “I just need ye tae promise ye willnae lie tae me further.
“I will not. I promise. And I will tell the truth to whoever asks me.” Lydia’s voice carried its own sort of oath, as strong as his own.
“Daes anyone else ken who ye are?”
“Maisie. She guessed… after ye gave me the dress, she guessed. I… I asked her tae keep my secret. She said she would, as long as she felt I wasn’t hurting anyone.”
Donall made a rueful noise and was surprised to find himself feeling a spark of humor. “Maisie’s loyal tae those who win herrespect or her friendship. She’d have told me if I asked, but she’d nae betray ye.”
An’ fer all I originally set her with Maisie so the lass could watch her, I never asked if she’d learned aught. ‘Tis me own fault that I didnae ken sooner.
“I know.”
Donall started to say something else, but a soft rumble of thunder overhead startled him. He blinked up into the sky and realized, with a shock, that the moon was disappearing behind the clouds, and the stars were already obscured. “Lydia…”
Another rumble of thunder rolled overhead, and then, without any more warning than that, the rain came crashing down around them, like a pent up waterfall had been released right above their heads. Donall swore in surprise, then grabbed Lydia’s hand and hauled her toward the door.
It took only seconds to reach the shelter of the tower entrance, but they were still both drenched, soaked to the skin by the time they stumbled into the narrow stairwell. Donall huffed in amusement. “An’ that will teach me tae go walking on the walls fer a midnight stroll.”
“Aye.” Lydia grimaced down at her soaked garments. She was starting to shiver, and without a thought, Donall drew off his sash and draped it like a makeshift shawl about her shoulders. The cloth was no dryer than anything else, but Lydia relaxed under the weight and warmth of the extra layer. “Thank you.”
“’Tis naething. But ‘tis best we both try tae get some rest.” Donall guided her down the stairs, then toward the ramparts. Both of them stopped, looking out at the rain-drenched battlements. Donall considered, then pulled Lydia close and tucked her into his shoulder.
Lydia blinked at him, but allowed herself to be pulled close to him. She even nestled close to his side. The warmth of her made Donall’s blood heat, but he forced himself to ignore the soft burst of desire that flowed through him like mulled wine on a winter night.
Together, the two of them darted through the rain. Donall helped Lydia down the water-slicked stone stairs of the ramparts and across the stones of the courtyard. The two of them hurried inside the side doors near the servant quarters, which were closer to the rampart walls and unguarded. Then they were inside, and for some reason Donall found himself half-laughing, half-panting, his chest burning from the short run and his heart lighter than it had been.
“Come. I’ll walk ye tae yer room.” He tugged the sash a little tighter around her shoulders and put a hand on her elbow to guide her toward the quarters she shared with Maisie.
Lydia walked along beside him quietly, and Donall watched her out of the corner of his eye. Even soaked as she was, she was beautiful, her auburn hair framing her slim, pretty face, and water molding her clothing to her frame in the most appealing way. Desire surged through him again, but it was held in check by an unfamiliar sense of uncertainty.
Donall probed the sensation with his mind, the way he’d probe a loosened tooth with his tongue or a bruise with his fingers. The laughter and the rain, the promise of honesty, had mended some of the strain between them, but not all of it.
He would have to speak to the Council, to resolve matters and determine a course of action. He had to tell them the truth about Lydia - he couldn’t continue to conceal her identity, not in good conscience.
After tha’ I’ll see what happens.
