Page 9 of The Highlander Who Stole Christmas
Perhaps there was a certain charm in providing such a medieval tavern to those looking to go back in time. A time when Scotland had not been trampled over by dragoons. Saints, but he could not remember such a time ever having existed.
Thane turned away from the bed to investigate a crumbling iron brazier that had seen better days. The room was chilly and could do with a bit of heat. He picked up the poker resting on the rim and jabbed at the half-burned logs in the cavern. One of them crumbled to ash, sending up a plumb of dust, which had them both waving in front of their faces and coughing.
“I’m no’ that cold,” Sarah said with a cough and a laugh.
Thane groaned and dropped the poker. “Good. I’m afraid if I light it, the whole room will blaze.”
“It might go to flame anyhow with the way it was roaring in the kitchen and the common room.” She giggled and backed away from the brazier. Either she was daft, or she was the type of person who always seemed to look on the bright side of the coin. While he wanted to think it was the former, he was fairly certain it was the latter, which only ended up endearing her to him.
“I hardly noticed,” he quipped. “Though I did wonder if ye were going to lick the oats off your face.”
“Ha! Maybe I should have, for I am starving.” Sarah tossed her satchel onto the bed, and surprisingly a plume of dust did not rise with it.
Carrie had not fibbed about cleaning the bedding. Well, that boded well for their sleep. Och, but they would have to share a bed. There was barely even any room on the floor for Sarah to curl up on, and he wasn’t going to make her sleep on the dirt-packed earth, despite there being a rug tossed down.
Sarah pulled out one of the stools and sat on it, wobbling a little and catching herself on the uneven table, nearly dislodging the bucket. “Whoa,” she said, finally managing to catch her balance.
This only seemed to make her laugh, and Thane couldn’t help but notice her dimple and the beauty mark that winked in and out with her humor.
She was beautiful, and it wasn’t fair. Under the circumstances, he should not find her so attractive and fascinating. Instead of taking the stool opposite her, Thane leaned against the door, arms crossed, one ankle over the other, and stared in her direction. He told himself he was doing as an abductor would, but truly, it was to put distance between them because the way she was wriggling her bottom on that stool reminded him all too well of their journey on Destiny.
Sarah cocked her head, a tease in her dark eyes. She stared back at him, a bit of humor dancing about her mouth too. “Goodness, but ye sure are brooding. If ye’re doing that for my benefit so that I remember ye’re my captor, I assure ye, I am well aware, and I dinna plan to go anywhere.”
A knock vibrated the door at his back, and Thane pushed away from it, opening it to see who would interrupt them.
Carrie stood in the hallway with a tray of food, and one of the lads from the stable behind her held a jug and two cups.
“We’ve brought your breakfast, a bit standard for us, but I assure ye supper will be delightful. And we’ve got a mid-morning Christmas treat too. Are ye planning to dine in your chamber this evening as well?”
“Aye.” Thane’s mouth watered at the simple fair. Lord, but he was starving. If he recalled correctly, the butter here last time was surprisingly good.
“All right, good then. When ye finish, if ye like, I can show ye the Chamber of Sorrow.” Carrie beamed a smile at them and shifted on her feet.
“Hmm,” Thane said. “We’ll consider it.”
Sarah was beside him then, her hand on his arm. “We’d love to see it. Perhaps with a bit of food, my husband will be more cheerful.” She nudged him in the elbow as if she were the one in charge of their current circumstances.
Thane raised a brow and forced a smile that appeared genuine. “I do apologize. I’m starved, and I tend to get a bit grouchy when I’m hungry,” he explained.
“Och, dinna we all,” Carrie said with a laugh. She pushed past them into their chamber and placed the tray of food on the table, then took the jug and cups from the lad. “Feel free to leave the tray on the floor outside the chamber when ye’re done. The lads will come by soon to collect it.”
When Carrie had left, Thane shut the door and stared at Sarah, who was pouring ale into the cups and setting out the food.
“Why are ye being so agreeable?” he asked. “I abducted ye. I am dangerous.”
Sarah glanced upfrom where she’d placed a spoon in Thane’s porridge, beside the melting ball of butter.
“Why are ye dangerous?” she asked, studying him from head to toe. He was large; there was no doubt. Tall and muscular, where his sister had been small. A few faint scars, and a nose that had been broken more than once, showed he was a warrior, and the mere fact that he was still alive was proof he could handle himself. But that didn’t frighten her. If anything, it made her feel safe.
Mayhap she was mad. For he did have a point.
He stalked forward, the way a predator hunted prey.
Instead of being scared, she found herself wanting to meet him halfway. Mayhap they weren’t getting enough air in this chamber.
“Your family is responsible for Thea’s death.”
Sarah nodded. She’d been waiting for him to say those words. They gave her something else to focus on besides the way her heart was beating wildly against her ribs. “Come, let’s eat while we talk.”
