Page 14 of The Laird's Dangerous Prize
Ciaran stood in the doorway, arms crossed over his broad chest, his expression unreadable in the pre-dawn light. Behind him, several of his men were dismounting, but there was no sign of any wounded as the boy had claimed.
"Ye set a trap," Isolde realized, heat rising in her cheeks.
"I set a test," he corrected, approaching slowly. "One ye failed quite impressively."
Isolde jutted her chin defiantly. "Ye cannae keep me here if I dinnae want tae stay."
"True enough," he agreed, surprising her. "But ye'll nae be leaving while it’s still dark, like a thief. When ye go, it will be with an escort, in daylight, and with me knowing where tae find ye if needed."
He took the mare's halter from her hands, his fingers brushing hers in the exchange. "Go back tae yer chamber, lass. We'll speak more at breakfast."
"Ye're nae me laird ae command," she hissed, frustration making her reckless.
"Nay," he agreed, his voice softening unexpectedly. "But I'd prefer nae tae have tae save yer life again because ye had ridden off alone before dawn."
The truth in his words deflated her anger. Isolde backed away, her escape foiled once more.
Head strong laird.
Isolde was beginning to wonder if she'd made a mistake sneaking out to the ball. The fun had long since passed, and now she had to return to the castle. The only problem was pulling it off without telling the laird which clan she was from.
Dawn's first light had begun to streak the sky when she returned to her chamber, frustrated but not defeated. There would be other chances. Isolde snuggled under the blanket, letting the warmth comfort her.
Rhona, it's up tae ye now to make sure nae one kens I'm gone.
Finally, with nothing left to do, Isolde fell into a deep sleep.
A knock sounded at the door, waking Isolde from sleep. She blinked several times; it had been the most comfortable sleep she'd had in a long time.
"Mistress?" She blinked, letting the haze lift from her mind. The bright sun outside her window told her it was somewhere in the mid-morning hours. "How long have I been sleeping? "
"The laird ordered ye were nae tae be waken, lass. But he requests yer presence fer a late breakfast," Elspeth announced, bustling in with a fresh pitcher of water.
"I'm nae hungry," Isolde replied, humiliated at the memory of her failed escape.
Elspeth clicked her tongue. "Ye'll go all the same. Best nae tae keep the laird waiting. I'll get ye ready."
Isolde grabbed the older woman's arm. "Please, Elspeth. Ye must help me. Me family will be worried sick by now."
Elspeth's expression softened slightly. "Lass?—"
"Me sisters will be searching fer me," Isolde pressed, desperation edging into her voice. "Me faither—he's nae well. If he discovers I'm gone..." She let the words hang in the air, the truth of them striking deeper than any lie could.
"The laird saved yer life," Elspeth reminded her gently, patting Isolde's hand. "Those men would have taken ye, or worse."
"Yes, and I'm grateful. Truly." Isolde took a steadying breath. "But now I need tae get home. Please help me."
Elspeth's weathered face creased with genuine concern. "Ye're nae in prison here, lass. Ye're here fer yer own safety." She straightened the folds of Isolde's borrowed gown with motherly hands. "The laird will see ye safely home in good time." Elspeth's tone made it clear the discussion was over. Her fingers worked through the tangles in Isolde's copper tresses. As she worked, Elspeth chatted about some of the humorous antics of the castle lads and lasses, easing some of the tension in Isolde’s heart.
When her hair was arranged in a simple style befitting a morning meal, Elspeth helped her into another gown—this one a deep green that made Isolde's eyes appear more blue than usual.
"There," Elspeth said with satisfaction, "a proper lady fer the laird's table."
"I am nae here tae please him," Isolde muttered, though she couldn't help running her hands over the fine fabric.
"As ye say." Elspeth's knowing smile suggested she thought otherwise. "Now come. He's waiting."
Suppressing an unexpected thrill at the thought of eating with Ciaran, Isolde followed Elspeth to a small private dining room. Just last night, she'd escaped her father's castle, and ridden miles with only one thought in mind. To catch one more glimpse of the handsome laird.
