Page 11 of Tempted By a Highland Beast
“I’ll take yer ugly doll away. We’ll see how ye like that.”
Ainsley huffed, turning to Constantine. “Dae ye see what James puts me through?”
Rowena stood silent, watching the exchange unfold with unexpected fascination. Constantine corrected them both—stern with James, but not unkind—and when the quarrel was over, James mumbled a promise to be a better brother. Ainsley forgave him without fuss. Constantine sent them off with a light tap on their shoulders, and they scampered away, still bickering under their breath.
This… tenderness, however unsentimental, hadn’t been something she had expected from him. Rowena wasn’t sure what surprised her more: the ease with which he had handled them, or how little he had seemed to notice he was doing it.
As Constantine led them through a new, rocky path, a dangerous swagger set at his shoulders that caught Rowena’s notice, too. Her face heated and it was foolish, really, the way her thoughts wandered. She had never been so near a man for so long, watching the way he moved, hearing the low cadence of his voice when he spoke to the horse.
And though they weren’t touching, the space between them felt narrow enough to burn. She didn’t mind it. In fact, she could too easily imagine minding the absence of it. The thought truly shamed her. To Constantine, she was likely nothing more than a troublesome lass in need of rescue. But to Rowena, he was the first man to stir something low and unfamiliar in her belly.
She’d never given much thought to what sort of man she might one day wed. Now, she was well aware she wanted one who carried strength like an armor, who wielded power the way Constantine had wielded that sword: with precision and pride.
She had taken him for a brute at first, a man who let his blade speak before his tongue.
I could be wrong…
The village disappeared behind them, and as they crested the next hill, the castle rose before them like a stone giant awakening from slumber, its grey walls catching the last amber light of dusk. Massive towers stretched toward the darkening sky, their crenellated tops crowned with fluttering banners that snapped in the evening wind.
Guards paced the battlements in measured steps, their silhouettes dark against the stone. Even from this distance, Rowena could see the glint of steel at their sides, the purposeful way they moved along their patrol routes.
Torches had begun to flicker to life along the walls, and the main gates stood open, revealing a courtyard bustling with activity despite the approaching night. Servants hurried across the cobblestones, their arms laden with bundles and baskets. The rhythmic clang of a blacksmith’s hammer rang out from somewhere within the walls, accompanied by the low murmur of voices and the occasional bark of orders. Horses nickered from what must have been the stables, and the savory aroma of cooking meat drifted on the breeze, making Rowena’s stomach tighten with hunger.
A group of men-at-arms stood near the entrance, their leather jerkins marked with the same heraldic symbol that adorned the banners above. They straightened as Constantine approached,their hands moving instinctively to their sword hilts before recognition dawned on their faces. The moment felt bittersweet to Rowena, and she suddenly felt homesick, wondering how her people were faring with Alpin.
“Welcome back, Sir,” one called out in greeting that carried the warmth of familiarity, and Constantine raised his hand in acknowledgment.
The significance of Constantine’s position settled over her like a heavy cloak as she realized the magnitude of the world she was entering. Rowena briefly wondered if she had signed up for more than she had bargained for.
“Why is everyone calling ye sir?” she asked quietly, studying his face.
“I am tae become their laird soon,” Constantine replied simply. “Daes that change things fer ye?”
Rowena’s mind raced. What had she done, asking favors of a man with such power? Taking sanctuary with him? If word reached her own clan that she’d been found in the company of the MacLean heir—alone, unaccompanied—what would they think?
What would me uncle make of the situation fer his gain?
The implications tangled in her thoughts like brambles. Constantine’s people might not be sworn enemies of theMacKenzies, but they weren’t allies either. And now that she was there, they had the power to make her vanish into the folds of their keep and reappear only as leverage.
“It changes everything,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Ye have power I didnae fully grasp. And I…” She gestured helplessly. “I’m nay longer just a woman seeking shelter. I’m a woman under the protection of the MacLean heir. That will be seen differently by many.”
Constantine’s expression grew serious. “Are ye concerned about yer clan’s reaction?”
“Among other things, aye.”
The magnitude of the unknown she was entering settled over her like a heavy cloak, and Rowena couldn’t afford for Constantine to notice just how unsettled she truly was.
She pushed her doubts aside and managed a small smile, looking around where she was. “Yer home is… more than I expected.”
Constantine cast her a glance over his shoulder, his expression calm but hard to read. “Aye. It tends tae leave a lasting impression.”
As they approached the main gates, three figures emerged from the shadows of the archway. The first was a young woman with dark eyes and long black hair that caught the torchlight like silk. Despite her petite frame, she managed to carry the weight of herclothes well. Her frock was the color of blood, and it looked even darker in the dark lights of dusk. A dainty necklace of pearls hugged her neck, and pearl earrings framed her beautiful face.
Behind her stood two men, both watching Constantine’s approach with careful attention.
“Constantine!” The young woman hurried forward, her skirts swishing against the cobblestones. “We were beginning tae worry.”
Constantine’s expression remained guarded. “There was nay need tae wait up, Lilias.”
