Page 17 of Tempted By a Highland Beast
The fact that he couldn’t stop thinking about the way Rowena had looked at him, the way she had felt pressed against him during their ride, was irrelevant.
“Ye kent she was lying,” Theo said suddenly. “From the beginning.”
“Aye.” Constantine took a sip of wine, letting the admission hang between them. “Fraser has only one daughter, and it is nae her. The lie itself was easy tae understand. What has me wonderin’ is why is she running from her uncle. Why she lied tae hide her true clan?”
“Could be debt,” Finlay offered. “Could be a crime.”
“What kind of crime sends yer own kin after ye?” Constantine had been thinking about this since their conversation in the great hall. “Something sinister’s at play here. And if she’s the MacKenzie heir, then she’s–”
“Valuable,” Theo finished for him.
“And she’s brought trouble tae our door,” Finlay said. It wasn’t a question.
“Perhaps.” Constantine was aware the danger Rowena might bring but didn’t much mind the thought. He was certain he could fight any trouble away.
“Or she’s brought a chance for an alliance; it depends how we use it.”
“And how dae ye plan tae use it?” Theo asked.
Constantine went still, thoughts turning. He pictured Rowena across the table in the great hall, the way her chin had lifted when he’d pressed her. There’d been pride there. Fire. A kindof strength he hadn’t expected. She wasn’t broken, no matter whatever had chased her here, seeking refuge with unknown men.
“I want tae ken everything,” he said at last. “Why she fled. Who’s after her. What she’s truly worth. And there’s only one way tae dae this whilst the lass stays here.” Constantine took one final sip from his drink and set the cup aside. “Finlay, take a few men and ride north. Keep low. Find out what’s stirring in MacKenzie land.”
“And if she’s tellin’ the truth about her uncle?”
“Her uncle daesnae ken Rowena is here, the men chasing her were still unconscious when I took her with me. But even if he kens, we’ll face the threat when the time comes.” Constantine rose to his feet. “I want facts, not speculation. I want tae ken exactly what we’re dealing with.”
“And the lass herself?” Theo asked. “What dae ye mean tae dae with her while we’re digging fer truth?”
Constantine turned back, their eyes on him. They’d ridden at his side through years of mercenary work, stood with him when he had claimed the lairdship, and never once questioned his judgment. They wouldn’t start now.
“She stays,” he declared. “She’ll remain under me protection for now. That daesnae change, nay matter what we learn.”
“And if yer faither pushes fer more?”
“I’ll make me own choices.” Constantine’s voice rang hard. “I’ve spent most of me life making decisions that directed the path of men. I willnae be pushed intae a marriage that daesnae help me. Nae fer alliance, nor fer land.”
“But ye’ll think on it,” Theo pointed out.
“I’ll think what’s best fer me,” he said at last. “If it also helps the clan tae stand strong, even better.”
Theo nudged Finlay, and they both walked out of the room after bidding final goodbyes to Constantine.
Constantine plopped onto his bed, and he shielded his eyes with his arm. He was tired, and eager to call an end to the day. He was glad he had fetched a maid to prepare him a bath before his visit to Niall; a hot soak would definitely make him feel better.
Constantine’s mind wandered. Somewhere within those walls, Rowena MacKenzie lay abed, trusting him to keep her safe. For him, tomorrow might bring reckoning. More eyes watching him. But at that moment, he let his thoughts remain, toward soft, hopeful hazel eyes, toward a woman who’d placed her faith in a man like him.
It was dangerous, this pull she had. But Constantine had long ago learned: the things worth wanting came at a cost. And danger was often the price.
CHAPTER SIX
The chamber Lilias had prepared for her was luxurious, though it couldn’t compare to her chambers at home. Tapestries depicting scenes of Highland life adorned the stone walls, their rich colors warming the space despite the evening chill. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting dancing shadows that made the room feel alive with movement.
“The bath is ready, me lady,” the maid said, her voice soft with the lilting accent of the Highlands. She was young, perhaps Lilias’s age, and she had kind eyes and capable hands. “Miss Lilias brought ye the finest soaps and oils.”
Rowena nodded her thanks. The wooden tub steamed invitingly, and herbs floated on its surface, filling the air with the scents of lavender and rosemary.
“I can handle mesel’ from here,” Rowena said gently, not wanting to seem ungrateful but needing solitude. “Thank ye.”
