Page 102 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
Rescue me from what? I am home, where I should be. Where he sent me to be.
But as her eyes met his, she knew she would not be able to turn him away.
She looked up at her father and shook her head, rising slowly to her feet as the atmosphere in the room changed. Both men reluctantly sheathed their swords, Bruce a little more slowly than his father, and Emily walked to the head of the table.
Adam towered over her, but he was utterly still, waiting for her verdict.
“Let us go outside,” she said stiffly. “Before me braither kills ye.”
Adam glanced at Bruce as though the likelihood of that was very slim, but he nodded and followed her outside.
The gardens were lush, with many flowers bobbing their heads in the breeze. Emily descended the short flight of steps by the rear door, walking ahead of Adam until she reached the middle of the stairs. There, she turned and waited to hear what he had to say for himself.
Adam came to a stop, looking around him with interest. “Ye have a beautiful castle here. I can see why ye wanted to return.”
“Dinnae try that with me, Laird MacNiall. Ye were the one who sent me back here, and ye ken it.”
Adam’s expression fell at her words, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. Emily noticed her brother hovering in the doorway behind them, watching Adam like a hawk.
“Let’s walk a little further into the gardens, and make nay sudden moves, or me braither will shoot ye with an arrow.”
“I shallnae throw ye over me shoulder this time, I promise,” Adam replied blithely.
They walked together into the gardens, flowers surrounding them amidst long green grass and beautiful evergreens.
As they stopped, Adam touched her elbow lightly, turning her around to face him.
“I want ye to come back with me,” he said earnestly, the intensity of his gaze stealing her breath. “I want me wife to come home.”
Adam was not accustomed to feeling nervous. He had been in many battles, brawls, and arguments, but he had never been willing to beg someone before.
Emily looked impossibly beautiful in a pale satin gown. He admonished himself inwardly for having bought her dresses in such deep colors. She looked stunning in everything, but nothing compared to this pale blue dress.
“And when did ye decide this?” she asked, the sharpness of her tongue reminding him of the pixie he was bargaining with.
“After ye left, but I kenned it before then.”
Emily scoffed, looking away from him as he examined her profile. “Do ye need a wife on yer arm for some clan business? Because I have already told ye how I feel about that.”
“I am tryin’ to explain meself, and ye arenae makin’ it easy.”
“I do apologize, M’Laird. Please continue.”
“Call meM’Lairdone more time and I might rethink throwin’ ye over me shoulder.”
He watched her shiver as a blush rose to her cheeks.
“Alright, what is it ye wish to say?” she asked.
“That I am sorry.” That got her attention. “I am sorry for bein’ a fool. I believed I was doin’ what was best for me clan by sendin’ ye away. All me life, I had thought me faither abandoned us forme maither, but I ken the truth now. He chose that life, and me maither was his greatest supporter. Just as ye have been.”
He sighed, looking back at the pale faces of her father and brother.
“I have made a lot of mistakes in me life, Emily.”
Emily was watching him now, her expression intrigued.
“I thought if I took a wife, cared for a wife, I would lose sight of what mattered. When ye were in danger, I didnae think about anythin’ else—I just had to make sure ye were safe. I thought that meant that I was abandonin’ me people, prioritizin’ ye over them. I understand now that was wrong. A wife makes a laird stronger, nae weaker. If I focused on yer safety it is because I care for those around me, and ye are nay exception.”
