Page 44 of The Highlander's Captured Bride
The soft crunch of twigs and dead leaves under boots had her twisting to look, and she found Ethan coming near. His tall broad-shouldered form moved smoothly with an even gait, and his faded shirt and trousers fit so well leaving her to wonder how he would look wearing the leather armor his fellow soldiers used. His boots clung to his muscular calves as he strode and as he came near, her eyes were latched onto them instead of his face.
She felt an odd flutter in her belly when his eyebrows dipped and knitted with concern. “Violet? Why are ye out here and nay at the great hall?”
Shifting to allow him to sit, she shook her head. “Wasnae hungry.”
He laid his arm over the back of the seat, curving around her, and muttered, “I ken the feeling all too well. Naything had been able to sit with me much lately.”
This would be an opportune time to approach him about his time at the university, but she couldn’t think of the right way to tactfully ask him about the lady. And so, she simply resorted to laying her head on his shoulder.
Together, they looked over into the mountains beyond, quietly and did not speak until he broke it, “I told Faither about the possible interference from Clan Hofte, and I ken he and yer faither are discussing it now.”
“What would ye dae if they are behind this?” Violet asked while staring out into the distance. “I mean, if they are the ones doing this, they have broken the peace between ye two and what now…war?”
“I cannae say,” he returned. “I hope it doesnae come to that, though. I cannae go back to having to hear one thing or another, day after day, much less flat out war.” She noticed his jaw tighten and his lips thinned. “Blood, so much blood. Men dead, women alone, children fatherless, ‘tis pure desolation.”
“Would ye fight?” She asked. “If it came to it?”
“I would volunteer, but I would be rejected,” he said. “I am the only son me faither has left. He willnae let me be put in danger when the Lairdship needs a leader to take over.”
Now that they were on the topic of war and being a soldier… he had to redirect her anxieties and let her unspoken concerns rest aside, until she was able to voice her anxieties. “This all so muddled.”
“Like a bog,” he added, “near impossible to cross. We must move to more solid ground or find another trail around it. Dae ye ken what yer faither is doing to pick back on this trail?”
“I cannae say,” she shook her head softly. “He hasnae told me anything, yet.”
His head twisted and his eyes swiveled to her. “What would ye dae in this circumstance?”
Casting her memories back on the line of discoveries they had made, Violet tried to conjure some outcome, some plan, something useful but her mind was already so scattered, she fell short of putting anything together. “For once… I daenae have the faintest inkling.”
“I understand, it’s a lot to take in,” he replied and—she sucked in a quick breath— how can she concentrate if he was mindlessly stroking the skin on her neck? “But I hope we can break through this soon.”
“Me too,” she added. “I ken we should get back in the castle though. I’ve been out here a good while and I should eat something as well.”
“Aye,” he agreed, but when she had expected him to move, he didn’t. Peering at him, she cocked a brow in silent question only to have him duck his head and lay a soft kiss on her lips.
It took a moment for her to recognize it and as she was ready to kiss him back, he had pulled away and was standing. She took his extended hand and followed him on her feet towards the castle. Once inside though, she pulled away, but Ethan caught her hand again.
She aimed a questioning glance at him, and he answered with a lopsided grin. “Faither already kens about us. T’was nay something I wanted, but what can I say, he’s me sire, he kens me more than I can ever imagine.”
“And if he does…” she trailed off while firming her grip with his hand. “Me faither probably does too.”
“Which means, ye dinnae have to shy away from me, but…” he kissed the back of her hand before dropping it. “Nay reason for anyone else to start gossiping.”
Truly, Violet was relieved. There would be a time when they could be open, but she highly doubted this moment was not the right time. In step, they went to the kitchen and called for food but Violet could barely drink the goblet of nettle tea and a buttered roll. Ethan did not do so well himself, going through a portion of the beef stew before he had to push the bowl away with a sigh.
“I ken it’s safe to say me appetite wouldnae be coming back soon,” he shook his head. “If ye’re finished, would he go with me to speak to me faither to see what’s he decided to do with Clan Hofte?”
She nodded and plucked one more pinch of the bread and popped it into her mouth. “Aye.”
Brushing her hands off, she stood, as did Ethan. Someone came and cleared the table, and they went off. They took the stairs to his father’s meeting room and he knocked first.
The gruff voice of his father came with a rather hollow, “Enter.”
With a nod over his shoulder, he went in and she followed. The Laird was at his table with her father, both men looking heavily troubled.
The leader of the MacFerson clan flicked a look at them and said, “I was just about to call ye two in, please sit.”
Uneasily, Violet did and Ethan took a place beside her. Her father rubbed his face and shifted to look at them, “I was askin’ the Laird if he had any enemies among ye, and he told me about the man who might be from Clan Hofte. Considering that ye and that clan have had bad blood betwixt ye, it is a possibility that the attacker could have come from there. But I happen to believe the attacker is nay that far. We have decided to go and speak to Russell this eve about it, but I sincerely believe it hasnae come from there.”
