Page 11 of The Highlander's Virgin Nun
“She’s already passed the ultimate test, Jayden,” he explained.
Jayden looked back up at him.
“If she wanted me dead, she could have already had me dead. Instead, she chose to save me. She’s like the feminine version of ye.” Caelan laughed.
“That’s all well and good, Caelan, but she might decide she wants ye dead all of a sudden. And then she’ll have direct access.”
A point he hadn’t considered, he had to admit.
“Well, I’ll just have to stay on her good side then.” He shrugged. “This clan needs an heir, Jayden. It cannae be passed on to someone cruel. We have to keep Rosaline safe until she can provide me with an heir—andafter. The child willnae be raised without both parents. Ye are to protect her too now, Jayden. Understand?”
Jayden stood up. His brow smoothed over, but there was no hint of softness on his face. “I understand, and I’ll obey, but I dinnae agree.”
“That’s enough for me. Now, let’s go find the cobbler.”
CHAPTERSIX
“Just up this way, dear. We’re nae far.”
Rosaline hurried up the stairs behind Alexandra, who skipped from step to step with a youthful spring.
She tried to take in her surroundings, still looking for clues as to what horror lay there. Any face she saw, she searched for a sign of despair, marks of cruelty that may have been inflicted on them by their violent Laird. But every servant greeted Alexandra with a smile and a nod, and it was the same to her—a stranger. She could not get a read on any of them.
“Would ye prefer a view of the village or the loch?” Alexandra asked.
“Of the village, please,” Rosaline replied. “But really, I dinnae need any view at all. I really dinnae need anythin’ lavish.”
“Dinnae be silly.” Alexandra giggled, finally reaching the top of the stairs with a labored breath. “The lass who has saved me braither’s life deserves the best.”
They walked a few paces further to a large wooden door with black slate hinges. It was carved with small, ornate floral designs, and Rosaline could not comprehend that she was to pass through it.
But the door was the least of the decorations.
As Alexandra showed her inside, she spotted a large four-poster bed, adorned with hanging linen and large furs draped across the bedding. A large wardrobe stood on the wall opposite, beside a beautiful writing desk. By the large, latticed windows that began almost at the floor and reached just below the ceiling, there was a large rocking chair, draped in even more fur, with another beautifully carved wooden chair beside it.
The window looked out onto the village, as Alexandra had said, offering a wide view of the daily goings-on. Rosaline thought of how much she would enjoy gazing out the window, watching the village come to life.
“This is beautiful,” she remarked. “Thank ye.”
“Nay problem. I am just glad me braither is back and safe, and that ye helped make happen,” Alexandra replied, her tone cheery. “Make yerself at home.”
Rosaline paced around the room, unsure exactly ofhowto make herself at home. She had nothing to put away or ask to be brought to her room. As she walked, she felt her ankle drag and tried to hide it once again to no avail.
“Ye are limpin’. Are ye hurt?” Alexandra enquired, as attentive and observant as Rosaline had assumed she might be.
“It is just a scratch. I got it on a rock in the woods,” Rosaline explained, trying to underplay the urgency of the incident.
She was not ready to tell her story yet.
“Might I see?” Alexandra asked.
“It’s really nothin’,” Rosaline insisted.
But she could see that Alexandra would not take no for an answer. She sat on the chair and lifted her tunic. The blood stain ran halfway up her calf and all over her boots. The cut, though not wide, was deep, and a bruise had formed around it, too.
“That must be cleaned and dressed,” Alexandra noted. Rosaline was grateful that she had not gasped or fretted. “Give me just a moment.”
As Alexandra left to fetch water and linen cloths, Rosaline stared out the window, still trying to find the catch in her new circumstances. She could see no peasants in the lanes, no servants limping or hunching, no stairs to dungeons. Everyone looked well-fed and cared for. They were busy, but not exhausted.
