Page 44 of Enchantment of a Highlander

He nodded toward the street. “Go.”

She ran from him. He did not watch her depart, but heard the steady splash of her feet connecting with the wet ground.

He turned toward Grant, who was once again standing. A growl rasped from Alec’s throat and he rushed forward, pinning him to the wall with a forearm against his neck.

Questions ripped through Alec. Ones that had plagued him through the night, ones that erupted on the quiet ride to the village. Ones that started the minute he saw Grant with the woman just now.

Grant squirmed between the wall and Alec’s arm.

“Why were ye in Celia’s cottage?” Alec asked with barely tethered patience. He pressed harder with his forearm.

The throat was a fragile thing, and could easily be crushed beneath the force of a man’s elbow.

He made damn sure Grant was aware of that.

Grant’s eyes bulged. “It’s no…any of yer…business…” he choked out.

Something cold flipped in Alec’s gut. “Was that the first time ye went there?” He eased off the man’s throat so the coward could answer.

“I’ve gone before. She only ever sees me at night.” His eyes turned up toward the sky and the gray clouds overhead reflected across his brown stare. “My request, no hers.”

He made a choking sound and only then did Alec realize he’d pushed his arm harder. “I should kill ye for touching her—”

Grant shook his head rapidly. “…didn’t…”

Alec removed his elbow and wrapped his fingers around the man’s neck. “Ye lie.”

Grant’s pulse thrummed in quick, short succession beneath Alec’s hands. “Nay, I’ve no ever touched her, I swear. I’ll tell ye the names of every woman I’ve been with.” A cocky grin lifted the corner of his mouth even while his eyes reflected his fear. “All the ones I can remember, aye? But she’s no one of them.”

Alec watched the man’s face closely, waiting for his gaze to dart to the left in indication of his deceit. “Then why do ye see her in the middle of the night?”

“I…” Grant jerked his face to the side and stared hard at the patch of ocean in the distance. “I’ve got the blisters plague,” he whispered. “I dinna want anyone to know.”

Alarm shot through Alec and he jerked his hands from the man. “What?”

Grant jabbed a finger toward his codpiece. “On my cock. I have the blisters plague on my cock.” He glanced to the street as if he feared someone overhearing. “No all the time, aye? She sees what the blisters look like, ’cause they’re different depending on how long I’ve had ’em and how many there are. She makes different pastes for me to put on it depending on what she sees.”

Alec swept his palms against the coarse wool of his kilt and stepped back.

“I dinna ever touch a woman when I’ve got them—Celia made me promise that.” His confident posture melted into humble humiliation. “I dinna want to pass on this disease.”

“Ye mean ye were there for healing?”

“I can show ye if ye like.” Grant grasped the string of his codpiece and tugged.

“Nay,” Alec said quickly. “That isna necessary.”

The man shrugged and retied his pants. He looked around and his leg bounced impatiently. “Can I go?”

Weight pressed on Alec’s shoulders, knotting already tense muscles. “I shouldna have…” Alec started, hating to apologize to a man like Grant, but knowing the depth of this wrong.

No wonder Celia had let Grant flee. She was protecting an innocent man.

From Alec.

“I shouldna have hit ye,” he said finally. “I dinna know…”

Grant held up his hand to stop Alec. “I can see how ye thought what ye thought. Even I’m no fool enough to lie with the laird’s mistress.”