Page 85 of The Highlander's Auctioned Virgin
“Just come,” Ciaran urged.
Elinor didn’t hesitate. She slipped her hands into his, and he pulled her closer, her body now pressed against his as they walked. Elinor noticed his eyes frantically darting from one side of the path to the other, the odd worry on his face growing.
Fergus, who must have some kind of sixth sense, suddenly stopped before them and turned around.
“Is everything all right, M’Laird?” he asked in a low voice.
“I daenae ken. Nae yet.” Ciaran’s response was sharp. “I just feel like someone is lurking nearby. Watching us.”
Fergus chuckled. “Everyone is watching ye. They’ve been watching ye both since ye entered the village.”
“Nae like that. I mean, watching. Nae in a good way.”
“Well, every other person around here is a member of the clan.”
They waited for a while, their eyes peeled for anything that stood out of the ordinary. But they found nothing.
“I am certain ye’re only being paranoid. Just because ye’re responsible for me, doesnae mean ye have to consider everything around ye a threat.”
Ciaran said nothing. Not for a while.
Elinor cast a confused look at Fergus, who ultimately decided to break the silence.
“I suppose I nay longer have to write ye a letter about this, but there will be a cèilidh tonight.”
Elinor looked back at Ciaran, who still had a suspicious glint in his eyes.
“‘Tis to celebrate the union of the clans. Ye both have to be there.”
“Nay.” Ciaran’s response was immediate, almost harsh. “We need to be on our way tonight or at first light. The journey back to MacAdair is long and treacherous, and– ”
“M’Laird?” Fergus cut in. “This isnae just some auction—forgive me, M’Lady.”
Elinor smiled and motioned for him to continue.
“Or some tournament ye can just say nay to. Yer people are celebrating. Ye have to be there. For the first time in a while, we have something worth celebrating. I believe folks would be happy to have ye around.”
Ciaran opened his mouth to decline again, but before he could get a word out, Elinor declared, “We would be very happy to stay.”
He shot her a surprised look, one that slowly turned into a scowl.
Fergus smiled when Ciaran gave him a brief nod. “He finally found his match in ye. Good Lord,” he said, turning to Elinor. “Ye, M’Lady, might be the only woman in the world capable of taming the Hound.”
“Ye daenae have much to do with yer tongue, do ye? I am certain ye wouldnae mind me cutting it out.”
Fergus barked out a laugh. “The village’s Great Hall is still standing—thank the Lord for that—so the cèilidh would take place there. Ye should come. I am certain our folks would love to meet ye.”
“Aye, I am certain,” Elinor responded.
A little boy ran up to them in the middle of the path, panting loudly. His curious eyes scanned Elinor from top to bottom, and she smiled at him.
He moved closer to Fergus.
“What do ye want, lad?” Fergus asked, staring down at him.
The boy leaned up, as much as his height allowed him, and Fergus bent down to meet him halfway.
Elinor watched in amusement as the boy whispered in his ear. Fergus nodded, and almost as soon as he had come, the boy turned on his heel and ran away, disappearing behind the houses.
