Page 11 of The Highlander's Captured Bride
Reaching up, her palm cupped his cheek and her thumb swiped under his eye. She felt his breath shudder over her skin, “It’ll get better one day, I promise.”
Inches away from her, his eyes glimmered and she believed she saw a spark of—dare she call it interest?—in the deep verdant orbs. But she also saw sorrow and her heart constricted. Ethan twisted his head and kissed her palm instead, and his smile was thin. “Thank ye.”
Pulling away, she hid her hand behind her back while he went to saddle a mare. The touch of his lips burned into her palm, like a brand used to mark cattle. She was tempted to take her hand away and look at it to make sure there were no red marks seared into her skin, but didn’t.
When Ethan took both horses outside, she followed him, and he placed the mounting block before her to use. She refrained from telling him it wasn’t needed, but he had gone through all the trouble so she allowed him to help her up with it. While grasping the reins, she watched him adroitly lift himself on the pawing stallion and control him.
“Follow me,” he said before starting his steed off with a walk.
She followed, kneeing the horse in softly and following his lead. They took a path that arched over the castle, taking them on a soft hilly outcropping that gave her a wide view of the castle. She spotted old stone buildings that looked like outhouses skirting the far edges of the property where tiny gardens rested.
Ethan was quiet and his face had a tone of sentimentality. He came to what looked like a dry well and reined in his horse. He gazed down at the old well and slid off his horse. Violet watched as he ripped some overgrowth away from the mouth of it and bent to root some more. By the look on his face, she could tell this was someplace special to him.
“When I was ten, me brother fooled me into kenning this was a wishing well.” Ethan’s smile was sad. “I kept dropping coins into it for months, wishing for things hither and yon, things that could happen but most that were nae.”
“Like what?” she asked.
He shot a look to her, “Like the power to fly, to wrangle a bull with me bare hands, to swim in the loch at winter and nae freeze to a block of ice,” he shrugged. “I wished every day and started getting angrier and angrier that nothin’ I had wished for was coming through. That was when Finley took me aside and told me that it was a lesson. He told me that life is nay as easy as I kent it was. He told me that things dae nae come by wishing, but by working at it. He told me that ye can wish for things, but ye still have to work for them. Finley was three-and-ten, but I ken he had the wisdom of a man twice his age.”
Violet slipped from the horse and went to his side. She peered into the well and smiled, even though all she saw was black. “That is a precious lesson to learn.”
“Aye,” Ethan added. “I never forgot it, nay matter how hard-pressed I am to cut corners.”
Looking at the well, Violet decided on what she was going to say. “Ethan, me faither had decided to bar me from helping with this investigation, but I willnae. I want to help ye, and for that, I need ye to help me. I need to ken if ye would assist me, because I am determined on solving this murder, even if I have to go about it meself.” Her chest soared with hope when she saw his shock turn into contemplation. “Will ye work with me?”
6
Ethan reached out and took her hands, tugging her closer as the air grew colder. He had to know if she meant it or not, so he had to search her eyes. It was getting dimmer, but he saw nothing but truth in her eyes. “Ye mean it…truly?”
“Aye,” she said. “I don’t want this to pass by like it’s nothin’. Whatever I can dae within me power to find this miscreant, I’ll dae.”
The sincerity of her words sank to his soul, and he felt gratitude bubble up in his chest. He slipped an arm around her back and pulled her into him. Resting her head on his chest, he held her close, “I’ll be with ye every step of the way, and thank ye. Whatever ye have with yer mind, I’ll dae.”
Her whole body warmed with elation at his reply. “Thank ye.”
They were still on the hillside, but music from the feast was loud in the air, and Ethan asked, “Dae ye dance?”
“Er,” Violet’s hesitation was audible. “I have little coordination. I once tried to dance the reel and ended up looking like I was having convulsions. And besides…” she looked pointedly around. “There is nay space for that kind of dancing. But if ye want to go back down and dance, there’s nothin’ to stop ye.”
Thinking of the sorrow already inside him that might be compounded by others who grieved over his brother, Ethan opted to stay where he was. Up here with Violet, he found a breath of peace; down below, he would only find noise and drunken revelry anyway.
“We’ll sway then,” he said, taking her hand in his and resting it on his shoulder while his rested his on her waist. The length of her body was pressed close to his and the soft fragrance from her skin wafted up into his nose. The brush of the skin of her cheek on his neck was silky soft, and the flitter of her breath across his collarbone made gooseflesh rise.
Her curves were gentle under his hand and she moved with tentative steps. He felt her blunt nails scratch across the back of his neck, and he shivered. “What is yer first plan, lass?”
“I was kenning how to find this woman who lured yer brother out,” she said. “If she is nay in this village, she might be in the towns or villages over. We can search there, clad in disguises. I can go as a boy and ye can use a cap to cover yer hair.”
“But…” he hesitated while shifting her on her feet. “Wouldnae she run further? I mean, anyone under suspicion of murdering a Laird’s son would be in England by now.”
Violet sighed, “I realize that, but I dinnae ken she would run far. The soldiers did say that she is nay strong enough to kill a man. I ken she only took Finley out because she needed a coin. Perhaps she’s a single mother or a daughter of a widow that needs food.”
“How d’ye ken that?” he asked, trying to follow Violet’s thoughts but failing.
“I’ve seen many dae worse,” her voice was hushed. “Over the years, Faither and I have made categories why people would kill—lust, anger, and poverty. Without fail, we’ve seen one or the other and even a mix of all three together in such cases. I dinnae see how we might be wrong with this one.
Having no experience with matters like this, Ethan had to only trust Violet’s judgment. A cry of drunken elation had their heads spinning and a bonfire suddenly flared up. It seemed the revelers had added something more to the celebration; they were probably dancing around it.
If she is going to risk her life to help, the least I can do is be by her side. I ken she might even solve this murder before her faither.
