Page 104 of The Highlander's Auctioned Virgin
CHAPTER 27
Ciaran did not sleepfor the better part of the night, but he did not return to the stables either. He remained in his chambers all night, staring out the window, his heart pounding harder than usual. Sometimes, he would sit in the chair near the wall, his boots planted wide on the floor.
His sword lay across his knees, the blade clean and shiny, but he could still see traces of blood on the hilt. Dawn crept in slowly through the window; he did not reach for it.
A rather fierce thought crept into his head.
It was his wedding day.
He shuddered. He was getting married to the lady of the castle.
It was rather ironic how he had only come here a few weeks ago to win an auction. Now that it had happened, he was getting married.
The morning sky grew clearer, chasing away the darkness he could see across the courtyard.
A knock sounded at the door as his chambers grew brighter. It was not as urgent as Elinor’s. It was rather a measured rap, as if the person on the other side already knew that their intrusion would not be welcome. Especially on this day.
Ciaran did not respond. He laid his sword on the bed, watching it gleam in the weak morning light, and stood up. His steps quickened as he walked to the door, closing the distance in only a few strides.
His hand closed around the knob and pulled the door open. It was exactly who he had thought it would be.
“M’Laird.”
Thomas stood there, his sword handle in one hand and his eyes steady. He did not look surprised to find him awake.
Ciaran stepped aside and watched the man-at-arms walk in, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.
“If ye’re here to tell me that none of the women ye have bedded in the castle want to attend the wedding with ye, I am afraid I have to tell ye to deal with it yerself.”
Thomas laughed. “Nay. Nae that.”
“Good,” Ciaran muttered. “So what is it?”
A brief silence ensued before Thomas cleared his throat. “I thought ye would want to ken. Some of me men have seen movement in the trees a mile west of the castle.”
Ciaran stilled. “Movement?”
Thomas’s throat worked, and he nodded. “Aye. A scout rode in nae half an hour ago. He said there were three figures. They didnae come close enough to see their faces. But they were armed.”
Ciaran felt something coil in his chest. He thought of Elinor upstairs, putting on her wedding dress, her hands smoothing the fabric while her mind worked through every doubt he’d managed to erase after last night.
He did not let the thought linger.
“Are ye certain that she is being protected? Elinor?” he asked, his voice sharp.
“With me life,” Thomas replied, the sincerity in his voice plain. “If ye plan to ride out, I can have a guard ready to– ”
“Nay.” Ciaran shook his head. “Ye need to have guards ready, but nae for me. If this is who I think it is, ye need to be prepared. I shall go meet him.”
Thomas nodded.
Ciaran continued in an even voice, “If any of those men come closer, ye will hold them at the wall. Kill them if necessary. Dinnae let them a mile near her. Am I understood?”
Thomas shifted, as if he meant to ask more, then closed his mouth and nodded again. “Aye, M’Laird.”
He dipped his head in a slight bow and left the room.
Ciaran did not waste any more time. He put on his shirt and stepped back just enough to grab his sword. The weight of it settled into his palm like a memory he could not shake. He did not bother with the belt. He carried it in his hand as he crossed the threshold.
