Page 19 of Highlander of Steel
Killian had known Laird Ainsley was a monster, but now he knew that the man’s heir was just as monstrous.
How unfeeling did a person have to be not to care what befell their sibling? How twisted did someone have to be to want land instead of one’s flesh and blood safely brought back to where they belonged?
Indeed, Killian had already risked his life—and would have done it again—to try and get his brother back. He couldn’t understand a family that wouldn’t do the same.
Then ye willnae haveher back. But mark me words, ye’ll pay for yer wickedness.
A wave of possessiveness washed over him, pulsing through his veins with the same potency as the rush before a battle. At that moment, he longed to pull Ailis into his arms again, as if that might shield her from such a despicable letter.
Then again, hadn’t she tried to warn him of how worthless she was to her family? It stood to reason that she could already guess what the note said.
“What does it say?” Peter asked, frowning.
Killian looked at his man-at-arms and crumpled the wretched letter into a ball. “If it’s nae her life they care about, maybe they’ll care about their honor.”
He marched out of the room with a dark cloud hanging over his head, not yet ready to explain to Peter what that meant.
7
Abitter-smelling brew boiled over the fire in Paisley’s quarters, stinging Ailis’s nose. But the airy room was warm and welcoming, with a view of the forest instead of the sea, so even the strong smell couldn’t compel Ailis to leave.
“Ye daenae have to wait for it to be ready,” Paisley said with a chuckle. “I can bring it to ye when it’s done.”
The ‘nightmare potion,’ the healer had assured, would ward off bad dreams. It didn’t matter how many times Ailis had insisted that the nightmare was a result of the kidnapping. Paisley seemed to know that it was a more frequent occurrence.
Ailis, perched on a stool, kicked her feet in a slow rhythm. “I daenae ken where else to go or what to do with meself,” she admitted. “It’s me first time as a captive, and considerin’ I’m nae exactly welcome here, I’m reluctant to wander on me own.”
And I cannae risk bumpin’ into the Laird.
Her heart rate quickened at the memory of him leaning in, his hands on either side of her head, his body almost flush against hers. Having never been kissed before, she wasn’t sure what usually led up to such a thing, but some instinctual part of her was certain that Killian had been about to do just that—kiss her.
The confusion had made her restless, not understanding why he would evenwantto kiss her, or what he might have hoped to gain from it. She didn’t trust it; that was for sure. Nor did she trust herself, for even if he were to lean in again, she still wouldn’t have tried to escape it. Escapehim.
Paisley looked at her sympathetically as she dropped a handful of leaves into a bowl of warm water, the green color brightening for a moment.
“Yecanwander if ye want,” she said. “Nay one here will cross the Laird, even if they daenae entirely agree with his actions. Ye’ll be safe here, under his protection.”
Ailis watched the leaves wilt in the bowl. “But I daenae want to antagonize anyone or provoke anyone by flauntin’ me freedom, when I should be in the dungeons.” She paused. “In truth, I wouldnae feel comfortable.”
“Ye’re conscientious for an Ainsley,” Paisley noted, a teasing note in her voice.
“It runs in the female line,” Ailis replied with a sad smile, thinking of her sister.
Kristen would have no notion of what had happened to her. Laird Ainsley wouldn’t bother to let his eldest daughter know what had befallen his youngest.
“And missed the men entirely?” Paisley chuckled drily.
Ailis nodded. “Somethin’ like that.”
Paisley moved to a second workbench and popped the wax seal on a ceramic jar. Pulling an empty bowl in front of her, she began to pour what seemed to be shriveled berries into it.
“Are ye afraid of what might happen when yer family comes to take ye back?” Paisley asked as she draped waxed cloth over the opening of the jar.
Ailis nearly laughed. “Nay, I’m afraid they willnae come at all.”
Rather, sheknewthey wouldn’t lift a finger to retrieve her.
Killian had made a mistake by kidnapping her; he would have done better to knock Murdock unconscious and take him instead. And it pained her to think of Fraser in the dungeons, getting thinner and hungrier by the day. A place he would probably never leave alive, now that she wasn’t there to sneak him food.
