Page 66 of Highlander's Sinless Nymph
“Aye, so can I, Sassenach,” Edward said, with his characteristic curtness, “and, if things were different, then I would nae have a problem seein’ yer married off to whatever lad would have ye.”
His face was creased up with frustration and confusion.
“But,” Charlotte said, “what of your father? Though I do not fancy having my neck stretched, I can see why he would not grieve to see me hung. His grief must be…”
She trailed off at the look on Edward’s face. It was surprisingly easy to forget that, whilst the Laird had lost his wife, this masterly-looking man had also lost his mother.
But, it will be the Laird’s feelings that dictate my fate.
Charlotte had briefly wondered what it must be like losing the love of your life in such a barbaric fashion. The fact that her father was the man responsible for robbing Edward of his mother, and the Laird of his wife, was a crime that she struggled to comprehend.
The poor Laird––he must be torn in twain at my appearance.
“Aye, me father is sorely grieved by what happened, o’ course,” Edward said. “The grief of it has darkened his heart somewhat. I ken that some of his advisors would probably be in favor of lettin’ ye swing, lass.”
Charlotte could feel the tears coming. She wrung her hands in her lap.
Edward reached out one of his big hands and clasped both of hers in it.
“I will nae let this happen, Sassenach,” he said fervently.
“But, surely, this marriage to the––to the stable boy, or whoever it is, is the best way to save me and stop my father?” Charlotte said.
Charlotte was a realistic and down to earth young woman. She knew––more than many other well-bred, young English people in her class, perhaps––that life did not pan out the way that tales and tavern songs dictated that it should.
If it did, my father would have been a better man––both before, and after, my mother passed.
“Aye, it is,” Edward admitted, “but there’s somethin’ that overrides all me other concerns.”
“What is that?” Charlotte asked, alarmed to hear that there could be some other aspect of the situation that she was unaware of.
“Well, I… The thing is…”
Charlotte would have much preferred Edward than the stable boy. There were many qualities that the rugged Scotsman possessed that Charlotte could think of now, but the chief one that sprung to her mind was that he made her feel safe.
Ever since my mother died, I have not felt as I do when I am in his company. He said he wanted to look after me, and he has succeeded––though, perhaps, not in quite the way that he anticipated.
“You see, Sassenach,” Edward tried again, “the thing is that I find––that is to say––
She had been mistreated for so long that that way of life had become normalized for her. After spending only a handful of days with Edward MacAlpein, she had realized that there was a different life out there for her––and one that she was entitled to it.
“Just tell me, Edward,” Charlotte said to him, her hands clutching at his. She tried to smile bravely at him. “I’m sure that, after everything else that is happened, I can take it.”
Edward scowled at his seeming inability to communicate what was on his mind. He snorted with irritation, puffed out his cheeks and then suddenly cupped her face in his free hand. He ran a thumb down her cheek in an uncharacteristically tender fashion.
“It seems that I’m in love with ye, Sassenach,” the Highlander said to her.
Charlotte closed her eyes. Willed herself not to break down. She suddenly felt very tired.
“I didn’t mean to upset you…” the big man said, awkwardly.
Charlotte shook her head, opened her eyes and smiled at him.
“I did not realize how much I wished you to say those words until I heard them,” she said.
It became evident to Charlotte that sometimes words truly fell short. It struck her that both she and Edward were both well aware just how the journey across the border had impacted them.
“Then ye––ye feel the same… do ye?” Edward asked, and a part of Charlotte giggled within her, to see such a stern and strong warrior-type reduced to this awkward state.
