Page 55 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
“Aye. I’m fine. I just… there is much on me mind. What are ye daein’ lurkin’ in the dark down here anyway?” she asked.
“I wanted somethin’ tae drink. And ye?”
“I was looking fer ye…tae talk.”
He nodded. “Go and have a seat over there. I’ll warm a cup of milk fer ye.”
“I can dae it meself.”
“I ken ye can. But go and have a seat anyway.”
Isolde smiled and did as he told her, taking a seat at a round table tucked away in the corner of the kitchen and watched him heating up a cup of milk for her. For some reason, it amused her.
“Ye ken yer way around a kitchen well enough,” she said.
“I ken a lot of things.”
A few minutes later, he brought the cup of milk over to her and sat down with a cup of ale of his own. Isolde did her best to keep from gawking at Struan’s shirtless form but, no matter how hard she tried to turn away, her eyes continued to betray her by sneaking back to steal a glance at him.
She couldn’t stop her gaze from traveling across the hard angles and planes of his torso, his thick biceps, and his wide, sloping shoulders. It was like he had been chiseled from granite.
Thin tendrils of steam curled off the surface of Isolde’s cup and she wrapped both hands around it, letting the warmth seep into her. Still fighting with herself to keep from looking at his half-naked form, she raised the cup and blew on it, trying to cool the milk. When it was finally cool enough to drink, she took a sip.
“So, what is on yer mind tonight then?” he asked gently.
“Yer offer of marriage,” she replied bluntly.
“Aye. I thought as much. ‘Tis fair. I ken it came out of the blue and I apologize fer that,” he said. “But I thought about it a lot and ‘tis the only way I can think of tae keep ye safe and out of the life ye dinnae want tae live.”
“I could always run.”
“Aye. Ye could,” he admitted. “But the lands are dangerous. There are a thousand things other than men that can kill ye beyond these walls and I fear ye’d nae survive yer travels. But assumin’ ye did survive out there, dae ye want tae live the rest of yer life lookin’ over yer shoulder?
“Nay. ‘Tis nae how I want tae spend me days,” she said quietly.
“I ken yer faither and Dougal well enough tae believe they’ll never stop lookin’ fer ye. They’ll hunt ye, Isolde,” he said. “Just as they’ve continued tae hunt me and mine. They are nae the sort of men who’d just let ye live in peace. And I think deep down, ye ken that too.”
Isolde took a drink of her milk and pondered the question for a moment. She knew Struan was right to question whether she’d survive in the wilds on her own. She’d needed him to survive the journey from Moy Castle to Achnacarry, after all.
She also knew what Struan had said about her father and Dougal was true. Neither of them were used to hearing the word no and neither took rejection well. They would most certainly not be well pleased by her act of defiance. And deep down, she knew they would not let her go. Struan was right. They would hunt her.
“Nay,” Isolde said. “They wouldnae stop lookin’ fer me.”
He nodded as if it was the answer he had been expecting. Isolde had never considered it before, but she realized that Struan had been fighting her father so long, he probably knew him almostas well as she did. She turned to him, a frown on her lips and a question on the tip of her tongue.
“Why dae ye want tae marry me?” she blurted out.
He cocked his head. “What dae ye mean? I already told ye?—”
“I ken what ye said,” Isolde interrupted. “But when we were on the road here, ye told me ye wanted tae marry fer love. And yet, ye offered tae marry me. Why?”
Struan opened his mouth to respond but no words came out. He seemed to be struggling to come up with an answer, which told Isolde all she needed to know. While she was grateful that he would make such a sacrifice for her, she didn’t think she could let him do that. Not for her.
“Struan, me faither has already done so much harm tae yer clan,” she said. “I cannae let ye dae this. It’ll only enrage him and he’ll dae worse.”
“’Tis nae fer ye tae worry about.”
“’Tis,” she insisted. “I willnae let ye or yer people suffer. Nae on me account.”
