Page 68 of The Laird's Vengeful Desire
The question might have been kindly meant, but it only made Rhona’s situation feel more precarious. What could she say? That she was the daughter of Ian’s enemy? That she’d been trapped there for months? That yesterday he’d kissed her with enough passion to scandalize a tavern wench?
“I’m… temporarily between homes,” she managed, which was perhaps the most diplomatic way to describe kidnapping in the history of Highland Scotland.
“How fascinatin’,” Olivia mused, though her attention had already drifted back to Ian. “Ian, ye must tell us more about yer duties here. I imagine ‘tis challengin’, takin’ over such a large clan.”
And there it was again – that soft, hopelessly devoted look in Olivia’s eyes as she hung on Ian’s every word. The way she smiled when he spoke, as if everything he said was the most interesting thing she’d heard in her entire life.
Bloody hell, she’s completely mad about him.
The knowledge settled in her stomach like poorly cooked porridge. Not because she had any claim whatsoever on Ian Wallace, of course. He was first and foremost her captor, her clan’s enemy, and…
And the most incredible thing to ever happen to her, her treacherous heart whispered as she recalled their kiss from the day before.
“I should go and leave ye tae yer guests.” Rhona said abruptly, standing with such haste that her chair scraped against the stone floor. “I dinnae want tae intrude on yer family reunion.”
“Rhona, wait–” Ian started to rise, but she was already moving toward the door.
“Where are ye off tae?” he asked, and something in her voice made her pause despite herself.
“Tae the apothecary,” she said without turning around. “Baird said he had new herbs arrivin’ taeday that he wanted tae show me.”
It wasn’t entirely a lie – Bairdhadmentioned something about a shipment from Edinburgh – but mostly she just needed to escape before she said or did something she would no doubt come to regret.
“Of course,” Ian said quietly. “I’’ll… see ye after, then.”
She nodded without looking back and fled down the corridor like her skirts were on fire, her heart hammering against her ribs like a caged bird trying to escape. Behind her, she could hear Athol’s voice picking up the conversation – something about old times and shared memories while Olivia’s musical laugh drifted through the door like silver bells.
Great.Ian’s childhood sweetheart has come tae visit, probably expectin’ a romantic reunion, and here I am – the inconvenientprisoner who melted away in his arms like honey over freshly baked bannocks.
The healer’s apothecary was mercifully empty when she arrived, Baird having gone to check on a farmer’s wife who was expecting her sixth child. Rhona closed the door behind her and leaned against it, finally allowing herself to acknowledge the tight knot of tangled emotions that had been steadily building in her chest since the moment she’d seen Olivia’s face.
Look at ye. ‘Tis jealousy, Rhona! Pure, venomous, completely irrational jealousy.
She was jealous of a woman that had every right to Ian’s affection. A woman who’d known him since childhood, who shared his history. A woman who was free to love him without the complications of clan warfare and political intrigue.
God… what is wrong with me?I’m actin’ like I have some sort of claim tae the man… I have nay right tae be upset.
But the rational part of her mind was quickly being overpowered by the memory of yesterday’s kiss. The way Ian had looked at her when she’d accused him of being too controlled. The heat in his eyes when he’d touched her face. The desperate hunger in his voice when he’d whispered her name.
That wasnae the kiss of a man who thinks of me as a prisoner, or a man who holds affection fer someone else.
A soft knock on the door made her jump like a startled cat. “Come in,” she called, hastily composing her expression, expecting Baird. But it was Moira who entered the room.
“Beggin’ ye pardon, me lady,” Moira said with a small curtsy. “But the laird’s braither was askin’ after ye. He’s wantin’ tae ken if ye’ll be joinin’ them fer the evening meal.”
“I…” Rhona paused, torn between the desire to avoid more awkward encounters, and the realization that hiding in her chambers like a coward would not solve anything. “Tell them I’d be honored.”
“Aye, me lady.”
After Moira left, Rhona moved to the window and stared out at the courtyard below. She could see Ian and his guests walking toward the stables, Athol gesturing animatedly while Olivia walked close beside Ian, her hand resting lightly on his arm.
They did look well suited, Olivia and Ian. Both of them tall and elegant, both carrying themselves with the unconscious grace of nobility – ebony and ivory – with Olivia’s blonde hair the perfect complement to Ian’s darker coloring.
What were ye thinkin’?That one kiss could compete with years of friendship and affection? That little old ye could somehow win his heart against that?
The truth of it was – she’d allowed herself to hope. Despite all logic, despite the impossibility of their situation, despite common sense, she’d allowed herself to begin to believe that what was growing between them might be something real. Something worth fighting for.
But watching him with Olivia– seeing how easily they moved together, how comfortably they fell into old patterns – made Rhona realize just how foolish she had been.
