Page 38 of Bound to a Highland Beast
As if that thought had only just occurred to Tiernan, he sprang up and dressed quickly, throwing on his clothes haphazardly. Isabeau frowned, looking at him in confusion as he shoved on his shoes.
“What are ye doin’?” she asked.
“Bringin’ a tub. An’ water.”
That was all the explanation he gave her before he disappeared, frantically trying to fix his hair blindly as he left the room, closing the door behind him. Isabeau sat there, on the bed, bewildered as she stared at the empty room before finally falling back down on the mattress.
What an odd man he is sometimes.
It didn’t take long for the door to open again and Isabeau yelped in surprise, grabbing the covers to throw them over herself. Once again, though, it was only Tiernan, carrying a large tub. Without a word, he disappeared again, and when he came back, he had a bucket of steaming water in each hand, the veins in his forearms popping from the strength it took to carry them.
Isabeau couldn’t help but laugh. “It really wasnae necessary,” she said. She could have simply washed up at the basin, even if a bath sounded like a brilliant idea.
“Nonsense,” said Tiernan as he filled the tub to the brim. Isabeau had to admit that it looked very appealing and when heheld out his hand, inviting her into the tub, she took it and let him help her sink into its shallow depths.
Instantly, she relaxed, her sore body melting into the water. Tiernan made sure her hair was out of the water and then gently began to scrub her skin with a cloth, his touch so gentle that it almost lulled her to sleep, her eyes falling half-shut.
She knew that if anyone found out about this, she would be doomed. But how could they ever claim it was wrong when it felt so right?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Waking up next to Isabeau was nothing new for Tiernan by then, but having her in his arms like this, cradled against his chest and warm under the covers? That was as new as it was exhilarating, his heartbeat kicking up a notch. The night they had shared replayed itself endlessly in his mind, each detail etched deeply into his brain, and he knew he would never forget it.
It was a blessing as much as it was a curse. He didn’t know how many more such nights he had left with Isabeau. Soon, he would either be dead or he would be returning her to her home, and regardless of the outcome, they would never be together again. He had already caused enough damage sleeping with her. Now, whenever she found a husband, she would have to go to great lengths to conceal that fact on their wedding night, and if she was unsuccessful, her entire future would be destroyed.
I should have kent better than tae touch her. I should have never been so selfish.
Now, however, he couldn’t do anything to change things. All he could do was push forward and hope that everything would work out in the end.
With a sigh, he pulled himself away from Isabeau as gently as he could so as to not disturb her sleep. She seemed so peaceful in that moment, her eyes gently shut, her plump, rosy lips parted just slightly as she breathed softly, her fingers curling gently around the edge of the covers, that Tiernan didn’t want to wake her just yet.
It was still early, after all. The room was dark, illuminated only by the coals that still burned dimly in the fireplace, the sun just breaking through the horizon, and though they had to start the day soon, he could give her a few more moments of dreams before she would have to wake up to the nightmare that was their reality.
With quiet footsteps, Tiernan padded over to the rickety chair in the corner of the room to dress, but just as he reached it, something strange caught his eye.
There was a piece of parchment just by the door, as though someone had slid it under the gap. Glancing over his shoulder at Isabeau, who was still sleeping, he walked over to the door and picked it up, squinting as he tried to read the words in the darkness of the room.
It was a short message, and yet still clear as day. There was no signature, but Tiernan didn’t have to wonder who had sent it.
Kill him soon or she dies.
Tiernan cursed under his breath, staring unseeing at the words, the threat sitting like a rock in his stomach. The more he stared at the note, the more his anger threatened to bubble over, coursing through his body like fire as he crumpled the paper in his hand. Every peak, every sharp edge felt like a knife point digging into his flesh. Once again, he glanced at Isabeau, his breath catching in his throat. Then, he dragged his gaze to the flaming coals and decided to toss the note in the scant flames. He watched as it slowly caught at the edges, the heat spreading until it was nothing but ashes.
He wished that was enough to eliminate the threat. He wished that was all it would take; nothing more than burning the paper out of existence, until it was nothing but flames and dust. But life wasn’t that simple and the longer he hesitated, the longer he dragged this out, the more dangerous it would be for Isabeau.
This is it. It’s all over now.
He couldn’t pretend any longer. He couldn’t keep thinking that it would all somehow magically work itself out. It was time for him to face some painful truths—one, it was time for him to act and kill Constantine, and two, no matter how much he wished for it, he could never be with Isabeau, and the more he tried, the worse it would be for them both.
“Tiernan?”
Isabeau’s soft voice broke the silence, startling him. How long had she been awake, he wondered? Not long enough to see him burn the note, he hoped. He didn’t want to worry her any further.
Now that she was awake, though, he didn’t know what to tell her. How could he explain all this to her? Isabeau was pure to the point of naivety, always thinking that everything would be resolved in some way and that no matter what the danger was, she could face it. So far, she had been proven right, but Tiernan was unwilling to test their luck anymore.
“What’s the matter?” Isabeau asked when he didn’t respond to her or even turned to face her. “Did somethin’ happen?”
Tiernan drew in a deep breath, shaking his head. “It’s naethin’,” he said, as he walked back to the chair and continued dressing, busying himself with the fastenings of his tunic. “I must go. It’s better if ye stay here today.”
