Page 29 of The Runaway Bride and the Highlander
Eventually, after replaying what had happened over and over in her mind, Skylar fell asleep with a heavy weight of sadness shrouding her being. The laird had opened a door within her that could no longer be sealed again. But as she thought about it, she did not want any other to enter that door again, only him. Yet, that could never be, for soon, he would belong to another, and what had happened between them that evening would eventually become a distant memory.
Katherine woke her up the following morning by pulling the drapes apart and letting the daylight stream into the bedchamber. Skylar stretched and yawned in the large soft bed before eventually tossing off the furs and blankets and feeling the coldness of the room reach her bare feet.
The fire had been lit, but Skylar had not heard a thing. Whoever had done it had been as quiet as a mouse.
While Skylar sat at the dresser a little later, Katherine took the brush and gently pulled it through her hair. “Ye have such beautiful hair, my lady.”
Skylar looked up at her with a raised eyebrow.
“I’m sorry. I mean Skylar. It is only habit.”
“How can it possibly be habit, Katherine?” Skylar replied with a smile. “I have hardly been in the castle for more than a day.”
“By habit,” the maid explained, “I mean, there are many visitors who pass through these parts. They come and stay here at the castle tae see the Laird or Lady Macleod. Some are lairds and ladies, and some are nae. I find it safer, for fear o’ offending anyone if I call everyone laird or lady.” Katherine then smiled broadly. “I can tell ye now, nae one pulls ye up if ye call them lady when they are nae one, but ye’ll never hear the end o’ it if ye dinnae call someone who is.”
Skylar smiled wider then and nodded in her understanding. “That’s actually a very clever way o’ doing it, Katherine.”
“Och, well, it wasnae me who thought o’ it. When I was old enough tae become a maid, I learned it from one o’ the older women. She told me it had kept her right for years.”
There was a knock on the door and Katherine left to answer it. Whoever it was, did not come in, and after a hushed conversation between Katherine and the mystery caller, the lass eventually closed the door.
“The laird wants me tae bring ye tae his study,” Katherine said, dropping to her knees and seeing to Skylar’s boots.
“But why?” Skylar suddenly felt worried.
“Och, how am I tae ken the answer tae that? Perhaps, after him coming tae see ye last night, he just wants tae check on how ye are today.”
Skylar felt the heat rush to her cheeks when she once again thought of how close she and Maxwell had been to being caught in the act by Katherine. Had the maid opened the door instead of staying outside when she had called out to see how Skylar was, the poor girl might have been scarred for life, to say nothing of the humiliation Skylar would have experienced.
“But, I’m fine,” Skylar placated. She suddenly began to feel a panic rise in her chest. She did not want to look upon the laird again so soon after what had happened. He had ventured onto plains unmarked by any other man, and while in the moment, she had lost herself, the idea of having to see him again so soon nearly scared her to death.
“Aye, but he’s nae tae ken that, is he? Ye’re ready at any rate. Come on,” Katherine said, jumping to her feet. “I wouldnae want tae keep the laird waiting.”
On the way through the castle, Skylar had garnered some solace that at least she had Katherine by her side, but upon arrival at the laird’s study, Katherine was promptly sent away.
“We’ll nae need ye for a while, Katherine,” Bram had said before welcoming Skylar into the spacious room and gesturing for her take a seat at a long oval table.
Skylar moved across the room but did not make eye contact with Maxwell who stood behind his desk. She could feel his eyes upon her, watching her every movement, but she did not have the courage to lift her gaze in return.
“Good morning, Skylar,” Maxwell announced too loudly for her to ignore. Flicking a glance toward him, his smirk was the first thing she saw, and immediately, she felt the heat return to her cheeks. The remembering of his fingers between her legs, his tongue flicking over her breast, and his hot breath on her skin came back to taunt her.
“Good morning, my laird,” she said, dropping her eyes again.
“I dinnae ken if ye remember my advisor,” Maxwell said, gesturing to the man sitting across the table from her. She did remember him, but they were never introduced. He had approached the laird the moment they had arrived at the castle, but at the time, Maxwell had been eager to know if she was a witch.
“This is Caelan Macleod, a cousin of mine.”
“Hello,” Skylar said, smiling toward him weakly.
Perhaps if what had happened last night had not occurred, Skylar would have been more alert and as assertive as she usually presented. But the deep embarrassment, not to mention guilt when she thought of poor Lady Fiona, seemed to quash the usual fire in her belly, as though she no longer had a right to speak up for herself.
“Are ye well, Skylar?” Maxwell asked before lowering himself to a chair directly opposite her at the table.
His words from last night came back to her.“Well, my lady,”he had smirked,“are ye all right?”
Skylar suddenly cleared her throat and forced herself to look directly at him. She could not avoid his gaze for the rest of her stay in the castle, and if she was not careful, Bram would soon become suspicious of her unusual behavior.
“I am very well, my laird,” she said. His eyes danced with amusement as she continued staring at him. “May I ask,” she continued, trying desperately not to drop her gaze, for she did not want him to see the power he had over her, “why ye have summoned me here this morning?”
