Page 25 of The Highlander's Illicit Bride
And yet, Isolde had always been a naturally curious girl. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering about him. There was something about the man that intrigued her. Fascinated her. Something about him captured her imagination and made her want to forgo all those lessons about proper behavior and being a lady that had been ingrained in her from birth.
Something about Struan made her feel as if she didn’t need to hold her tongue. It was strange and she didn’t quite understand it herself, but he made her feel safe in ways she never had felt when she was younger. It was insane, she knew. And yet, she couldn’t help but feel as if he would never tell her to remain silent or make her feel as if she had nothing of value to say.
“I wanted tae thank ye,” he said abruptly.
“Thank me? Fer what?”
“Fer helpin’ me find me braither.”
Guilt sliced through her like a dagger, his words a reminder that she wasn’t helping him. She was holding him hostage. Knowing that she was not telling him where he could find Finlay because she was scared and needed protection was the worst thing she’d ever done to anyone and she couldn’t stop the waves of guilt from crashing down over her.
“I love me braither. And we both love our clan—more than anythin’. With both of us… away… I worry about our people,” he said, his voice surprisingly thick with emotion. “I’m grateful tae ye for bein’ willin’ tae help me find him and return us tae our clan.”
His words drove the nails of guilt deeper into her and Isolde forced herself to take long, deep breaths to keep the tears from flowing down her face. She was grateful for the darkness because if she had been forced to look him in the eye, she might have broken and told him everything. And then what would that mean for her?
“So, thank ye,” he said softly. “’Tis all I wanted tae say.”
Isolde was quiet for a long moment, letting her emotions settle. She stared up at the ceiling and blinked away her tears, doing her best to quell the churning in her heart and belly. When she’d regained her composure and had tamped down the wild roiling inside of her, she turned her head.
“May I ask ye a question?” Her voice was soft.
“Aye.”
“Dae ye regret savin’ me from me faither’s men?”
He was silent for a moment and Isolde fully expected him to tell her that he did. In his place, she probably would feel the same. But when he spoke, he surprised her.
“Nay. I dinnae,” he replied, his voice gentle.
“Nay?”
“Of course, nae,” he said. “When I saw ye were in trouble, there was nay question in me head that I had tae help. I wasnae goin’ tae leave ye tae be taken. It wouldnae have sit well with me.”
So he is a decent man after all…
Struan’s statement drove that dagger of guilt even deeper into her heart. She was holding the fate of his brother hostage for her own safety. It was selfish and cruel. She could see the love he held for Finlay and she was keeping his whereabouts to herself for her own gain. He did not show it, but she was sure it bothered him.
Nonetheless, she did not know any other way to ensure she got away from her father—and from Dougal. She did not know howshe could safely negotiate the path out of their lands without somebody watching over her. As capable as she considered herself, Isolde knew she was no match for an armed soldier.
“I’m grateful tae ye,” she said quietly.
His laughter was soft. “Ye’re quite a bit more resourceful than I expected ye tae be.”
“Is that so?”
“Aye. Ye’re resilient,” he said.
“Were ye expectin’ somethin’ different then?”
“I suppose I was expectin’ ye tae be softer. Pampered. Somebody used tae feather beds and servants waitin’ on her hand and foot,” he said, his voice tinged with amusement. “Ye’ve handled yerself a lot better than I had been expectin’ ye could. I hope this daesnae sound too condescendin’, Isolde, but I’m impressed by ye.”
There was some small part of her that wanted to be offended by his assumption that she wasn’t able to take care of herself, but he also was entirely wrong.
Yet, she couldn’t stop the flush that rose to her cheeks either, forcing her to turn away. It felt good to hear those words. Compliments had been rare in her life and she was not entirelycapable of stopping the emotion that bubbled up inside of her or the smile that painted her lips.
“Thank ye,” she said softly. “’Tis kind of ye tae say.”
“’Tis only speakin’ the truth of it.”
