Page 40 of The Highlander's Auctioned Virgin
“That makes nay sense. Ye’re a laird. Yer people arenae many ; the main thing that should be on yer mind now is laying down as many roots as possible. I cannae believe ye.”
“Well, I’m nae joking about this. I have never wanted a child. I daenae think the desire would come now.”
He looked out the window. The world around them had been cast in a golden glow, thanks to the rising sun. The wet soil glimmered, and the day was growing brighter with each passing moment.
“Ye will have to forgive me if I cannae believe ye,” Elinor persisted. “If ye daenae want a child, then why participate in the auction? Why go through any of this in the first place?”
Ciaran’s eyes were still fixed on the window. “We should be leaving soon.”
“If that is yer way of avoiding me questions, ye’re doing a terrible job at it.”
“I am nae avoiding yer questions. I am simply choosing nae to answer them.”
“That’s the same thing, is it nae?” Elinor argued, a hint of annoyance in her voice. “And ye ken what? Ye are absolutely right. We need to get going.”
She folded the towel one last time and placed it on the mattress, ignoring—or at least trying to ignore—his musky smell as she leaned past him.
She rose to her feet and grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. “I will kill the fire,” she muttered and stepped outside, leaving Ciaran to his racing thoughts for a minute.
He could hear her footsteps outside and even her frustration with him. He had been hiding a lot of himself since they got stuck together during the storm and would barely reveal anything. If he was going to make her his wife, that had to change.
He wouldtryto change.
Elinor returned to the cabin, the bowl in her hand now filled with water. Ciaran watched her with renewed interest as she threw the water on the fire. White smoke rose into the chimney.
“Ye wanted to ken why I was called the Hound,” he murmured.
She didn’t turn around, but she stopped moving, and that was how he knew she was listening to him.
“‘Tis because I have done things. Things ye cannae imagine. Things that will give ye nightmares for days if I tell ye about them. Ye must ken that in nay way am I proud of them. I just want ye to see where I am coming from.”
Elinor put the bowl back in the cabinet and turned to him.
Why was this so hard? He had killed lairds more easily.
“I cannae– ” He broke off, but she said nothing. She just watched him. “I cannae bring a bairn into this world with me reputation. I cannae subject a child to having a man like me as his or her faither.”
A sigh escaped Elinor’s lips. Then, she walked back to the bed and sat beside him.
“Believe me when I say that nay child deserves to have me as their faither,” Ciaran said, his words firm and final, as if that was all he planned to say about the matter.
Elinor sighed again and turned to the window. The sun had risen fully by now, and the cabin was flooded with even more light.
“So why are ye here?” she asked. Ciaran was surprised by how soft her voice was. “Why go through all of this?”
“I didnae do it for an heir. I did it for me people,” he replied.
Elinor’s eyes flicked back to him. “Yer people?”
“Aye.” He nodded. “When I wanted to…” He paused, almost like he was carefully choosing his words. “When I tried to leave and create a clan of me own, a lot of people followed me. People who had faith and believed in who I am and what I can be. I need this marriage to work so I can secure a place for them. A place where they wouldnae be persecuted and attacked. I also need to relocate some of them. Believe it or nae, Elinor, Clan MacAdair is powerful. I need some of that power to help me people.”
Silence stretched between them like the sunrays across the horizon.
Elinor seemed to be considering his words, but for some reason, a part of him felt like he needed to say something to fully drive his point home. Like a nail in the coffin.
“A lot of them lost their homes and jobs because of their faith in me, Elinor. I cannae let them down.”
Elinor nodded, then she rose to her feet.
