Page 53 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
“Please,” he said. “Help yerself.”
And she did. Together, they piled their plates with food and tucked into their meals. Struan watched her as she ate. Her bites were delicate. Ladylike. Beyond that though, Struan noticed the soft curve of her jaw and her neck. He gazed at her milky white complexion, enjoying the way the fire cast flickering shadows across it, making her skin seem to glow as with an inner light. And the way flames sparkled in her piercing eyes nearly stole his breath. She wasn’t just beautiful. She was something more than that. Isolde was ethereal.
“Why are ye starin’ at me then,” she said with a laugh.
“Nae starin’,” he replied. “Just admirin’.”
Her cheeks flushed and she looked away as a small, nervous giggle floated from her mouth. The sound of her laugh, so high and sweet, made his heart swell. The effect she had on him continued to confound Struan but he liked it.
“So,” he said. “Are ye feelin’ better after a hot bath?”
“Aye. ‘Twas wonderful,” she replied. “’Tis one luxury I enjoy indulgin’ in… hot baths.”
“’Tis good. I’m glad ye enjoyed yerself.”
Isolde held her cup in both hands and stared into the fire. He could tell by the set of her jaw and the tension in her shoulders that she had something on her mind. He took a sip of his wine and simply watched her.
After a few moments, she took a swallow of her own wine then turned to him. Her expression had darkened and clouded over. Whatever she’d been thinking about seemed to be bothering her.
“What is it?” he asked.
“When we were travelin’ here… when I told ye that yer braither was at Cluny House,” she began, her voice slow and halting. “Ye asked me how I kent and I didnae tell ye.”
“All right,” he replied, unsure where this was going.
“I just… I didnae like misleadin’ ye. I didnae like nae bein’ honest with ye when all ye’ve done is be kind—that naked swimmin’ thing at the loch near the crofter’s hut nae withstandin’.”
Struan laughed and nodded, remembering how red her face had gotten when he’d stripped down and dove into the loch. The thought of how flustered she’d gotten still amused him. Her smile slowly slipped away, replaced by an expression that was more serious.
“What I’m tryin’ tae say is that ye’ve held true tae yer word and kept me safe,” she said. “And I feel terrible about bein’ less than truthful with ye.”
He shook his head. “Ye’ve told me what I needed tae ken. Ye’ve been honest with me.”
“I’ve nae told ye everythin’. Ye asked me how I kent about yer braither and I didnae tell ye.”
He could see it was bothering her that she hadn’t disclosed everything she knew. And he could see she wanted to tell him. It was probably going to continue to plague her until she got it off her chest, so Struan sat back and took another drink of his wine, giving her the time and space she needed to say what she needed.
“I told ye that me maither died when I was born,” she began.
Struan nodded. “Aye.”
“Well, growin’ up, nobody ever paid much attention tae me. None at all, really. So, I learned tae be invisible. I learned tae move about without drawin’ attention tae meself,” she said. “It was useful. I told ye that I learned a lot about a lot of things, aye?”
“Aye. Ye did.”
“I was able tae watch and listen with nobody even noticin’ I was there.”
“’Tis a useful skill indeed,” he said with a chuckle.
“That’s how I ken where yer braither was bein’ held,” she said. “When ye were both captured, ye were brought tae Moy Castle. But I heard me faither and Laird MacPherson talkin’. They feared ye’d conspire with each other and find a way tae escape if held in near cells. So, me faither negotiated a deal with Dougal, promisin’ him me hand in marriage in exchange fer keepin’ yer braither at Cluny House.”
Isolde blew out a long breath, then took a deep swallow of wine. She was trembling and her face had turned ashen as she laid out her confession.
Struan moved his chair closer to hers and took her hands in his. “I’ve found a way ye can stay here. A way ye can avoid eitherbein’ on the run yer whole life or havin’ tae go back tae yer faither,” he said. “Or worse, tae Cluny House and Dougal.”
A light of hope entered her eyes. “How?”
“Marry me,” he said.
