Page 20 of Saved By the Highland Beast
“Oh, Dean!” She was so excited that she forgot to use his title. “Thank you so much! I promise I won’t let you down.” She reached across the table and placed her hand on top of his, squeezing it.
Dean froze for a second and stared at their hands as the warmth of her skin burned into his.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment and removed her hand. A slight blush spread across her beautiful porcelain skin. “I think I should go to bed now, there’s so much to do in the morning. I can’t wait to get started.” She stood and pushed her chair back under the table. “Thank you so much again, my laird,” she said with a genuine smile on her lips. “You don’t know how much this means to me. Good night.”
“Good night,” he said quietly as he watched her walk down the passage that led to the rest of the castle.
The laird looked down at his hand and slowly unclenched his fist. The warmth of her soft skin still lingered on his. The way she’d said his name had caught him off guard, causing a kind of fluttering in the pit of his stomach that he’d never experienced before.
There was something vastly alluring about the brightness she brought into any room she entered. He wanted to get to know her a little better.
Fear suddenly filled his heart as he recalled the screams of his late wife on the night she had died. The only thing that had made her death even slightly bearable was that he had Cillian to look after.
“No,” he muttered to himself, shaking his head.
I can never get close to anyone ever again.
The pain of losing anyone again was just too much to bear.
CHAPTER8
Sophia lookedaround the room with a satisfied smile on her face, pulling the woven shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. Dean had been true to his word and provided her with thicker clothes that staved off the icy chill of the harsh Scottish winter. She now wore a grey tweed skirt with a white frilly blouse and heavier undergarments. He had even made sure that the fire was lit before she came up for her lessons after breakfast, ensuring the room was nice and comfortable.
Hamish and Anthony had been true to their word and had brought in a selection of wooden swords, daggers, shields, and various other paraphernalia that would hopefully entice Cillian into a lesson with her. She had them arranged on the carpet in front of the window that overlooked the stables and training grounds, in the hopes that keeping something he loved in view would be a great motivator. She had even gone as far as placing his small wooden desk and chair in front of the fire so he could work in peace without catching a chill.
Glancing at the big clock in the corner of the room, she wondered what was keeping him so long. He usually came into the study before ten, after breakfast to exchange his book. Walking over to the window, she glanced outside and spotted the laird helping some of the other young men load hay into the carts.
Many men in his position would never stoop as low as to do the menial labor around the castle, but Dean was different. He cared about his family and the wellbeing of those who worked for him. Her mind drifted to the night before and the way he had gotten the cheese for her. Sophia could still recall the way his muscles bulged beneath his evening shirt and how his black hair hung down his back in a braid.
He is definitely a handsome man, she thought to herself as she watched him scooping the hay with ease. She found herself biting her bottom lip and playing with the collar of her dress as he laughed and played around with the younger men. She found it surprising that he hadn’t remarried after he’d lost his wife.
I wonder what he looks like with his shirt off.
She felt her breathing quicken as new thoughts of the laird entered her mind.
“What is all of this?”
She almost jumped when Cillian suddenly spoke from behind her. He was standing in the doorway with his book hanging in his hand as he stared at the weapons set up across the floor. It took her a minute to refocus her mind, but she quickly recovered and remembered why she was there. Shaking off the guilt of having thought of his father in that way, she began her lesson.
“I’m so glad you asked,” she said with a warm smile as she came forward and stood with her hands on her hips. “What you see before you here.” She paused to throw him a mischievous smile. “Is what we will be using for your lessons.”
Cillian shuffled on his feet as he brought the book up and held it to his chest in a defensive manner. The mistrust was evident on his face, as he stood rooted to the spot, not even budging an inch into the room.
Her heart broke for him slightly. He obviously wasn’t sure if he could believe or even confide in her at this point, or anyone for that matter. His father was out of the question, with their strained relationship. Never knowing one’s mother must have a terrible effect on a child. Even if a father cares greatly for his child, there was a gentle touch that only a female figure could provide. Sophia thought of her own mother and how she couldn’t imagine her life without her.
Walking over to the props and picking up a sword, she took a deep breath and began her mission of drawing him in. “I thought we could use them to do a little math, and even perhaps some history.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye to gauge his reaction.
Cillian didn’t seem impressed at all with her, but he did have a curious look in his eyes. He took a small step into the room, but he still seemed reluctant to open up and let go of the book. “Faither says that I am too young to be usin’ swords, even the wooden ones.” His eyes were clouded with doubt.
“I have some good news for you on that score then,” she said cheerfully. “I have spoken to your father, and we came up with a compromise together that will help your schooling and allow you to do the things that you enjoy so much.”
“I dinnae believe ye.” Cillian narrowed his piercing blue eyes.
Sophia placed the sword at her side and narrowed her lips. “Do you think the study would be filled with all of this if your father hadn’t allowed it?” she asked and gestured toward all of the props. “He is the laird of the castle, after all. I doubt I could have snuck all of this up here without him noticing.”
Cillian walked over to the table and set his book down. “What kind of compromise?” he asked her, suspicion still cracking his voice.
“Well.” She placed the sword back on the carpet before walking to her desk and shuffling the papers. “Your father has agreed to let me use the props as part of your lessons if you will sit through five hours of study each day.” She straightened the stack of papers, allowing him to think of what she had said.
