Page 23 of Highlander of Steel
“It’s nae yer fault ye couldnae find yer braither either,” she continued, regardless. “The dungeons are part of a labyrinth that one of me ancestors had built beneath the castle. The entrance to ‘em is as hard to find as the door to me faither’s tower. And me faither had yer braither moved every mornin’, to make it all the more difficult to find him.”
“Are twisted minds common in yer family?” Killian asked, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his lips.
A hollow laugh escaped her. “Ye probably have a more accurate history of me family written somewhere than I do.”
“Perhaps.” He poured some wine into his cup and drank. “So, ye’re sayin’ that I shouldnae try to find him again?”
“I mean, I could try to draw ye a map of where he was last, but me faither and braither would probably be expectin’ ye now,” she replied.
Immediately, realization dawned on her. She was saying so much because Killian cared without being indiscriminately vengeful. He wanted his brother back, but not at any cost.
Ailis had to wonder what her father would have done if it were Murdock who had been taken. He wouldn’t have cared who he hurt, no torture or torment too awful, so long as he retrieved his heir.
“Nae even the guards can find their way around,” she added, shyly stabbing a potato to nibble on. “They use string, though they’re nae supposed to.”
Killian sat back in his chair and raked a hand through his loose hair. Ailis hadn’t noticed before, too anxious to look at him for long. His hair was glossy and wavy, falling past his broad shoulders.
Her cheeks warmed as she imagined what it would feel like to run her hands through the beautiful, dark hair that framed his handsome face so well.
“Yet,” he said, “yewere somehow able to sneak food to Fraser?”
She concentrated on chewing the buttery, crispy potato, the delicious flavor increasing her appetite a little. “Well, aye, but that’s only because I spent so much time there as a bairn. There’s nay corner of that labyrinth that I havenae spent hours explorin’.”
Killian sat up straighter, his eyes pinched at the corners, his lips slightly parted in disbelief. “Ye spent time in thedungeonsas a bairn?”
“Och, it wasnae like that!” she hastened to say, laughing nervously. “Nay one forced me to be there. I doubt anyone other than me sister ever kent I was down there, to be honest. It just… felt safe in that maze. I cannae explain why.”
She could, but she didn’t want him to think she was pathetic, feeling safe in a place with so many dark corners to hide in. A place far enough from her father’s wrath, where she didn’t have to worry about him suddenly appearing with a random punishment.
“Yer sister?” Killian prompted, pulling her out of her thoughts.
A wistful smile tugged at her lips. “Aye, Kristen could always find me in that labyrinth. We’d play a game where I’d hide somewhere in the dungeons, and each time, I’d be convinced it would be the day that she didnae manage it.” She chuckled at the memory. “She remains undefeated.”
“She nay longer lives in the castle, though, does she?”
Ailis shook her head. “Nay. She married Laird Drummond a few years ago. I havenae seen her much since then, though I’ve nay doubt she could still find me in the dungeons if we played that game again. She has an excellent memory. Better than mine.”
The conversation tapered to a natural end, not uncomfortable or awkward, but falling into a contemplative silence. Both of them lost in their own thoughts: Ailis thinking of her sister, Killian thinking of whatever it was that made his brow furrow like that.
In the quiet, the pair ate the delicious food. With every bite, Ailis felt her appetite returning; the food was simply too good to skip.
“Are ye feelin’ better?” Killian asked suddenly.
She paused in the middle of chewing some earthy venison. “Hmm?”
“The healer said ye took ill,” he said.
Traitor.
Ailis blushed. She wasn’t used to so many people caring about her well-being. Ordinarily, if she were feeling a little poorly, only Skye would take notice and enjoy pretending to be her healer.
“It was just the heat and the smells in her quarters,” she replied with a tight smile.
Killian dipped his head in a quick nod. “Right. Aye. She said it might be that.”
His tone suggested that he didn’t entirely believe her. But she wasn’t going to tell him outright that she, a grown woman, was terrified of the sea. The merementionof the sea, at that.
More silence followed.
