Page 8 of His Secret Highland Bride

Had her father thought tricking her was the only way to get her to do what he’d bid? She shouldn’t have caused such a fuss with the Fletchers. Robert wasn’t a horrible man; he was just much older than her. But despite her rebellion and his blustering over the incident, he’d never touched her violently. Pain didn’t always come at the sharp stab of a fist, though.

Lindsay had known all her life how disappointed her father was that he’d not been given a son. While Lindsay’s mother did her best to make up for the lack of affection, Lindsay knew the only value she held for her father was to marry well. And now she’d begged him to go back on another betrothal agreement to find a more suitable arrangement. He wouldn’t be pleased, but there had to be better options than the MacPhersons.

It’d be amusing to see her uncle’s face if she were to tell him she was to marry his laird. And even more pleasing to see how quickly he changed his tune if she became Lady MacPherson. But she wouldn’t dare. Whatever discomfort she faced with her uncle’s cruel words was better than being married to the laird’s heir. After all, her time here was temporary.

She only had to wait until her father’s retainers came for her and saw her home. A month at the most, and she’d be out of this place.

…

By the time Shane returned from his hunt for supper, he’d had more than enough of his own company. He’d never tell Ronan he was missed. The information would go straight to the man’s head. And as Shane considered it, he knew it wasn’t Ronan he missed.

He thought of the meals he’d shared with Maria. How she could speak so quickly he barely understood, even when he’d learned a fair bit of Spanish. How quickly and efficiently she moved, using her skirts to grip the hot pans. The sharp scent of spices he knew would heat his tongue and make his eyes water. How she would laugh at him. But as he allowed the memories to flow around him, he realized he also thought of Lindsay and how nice it would be to share his meals with her.

He’d noticed she was bonny the day before. It had been impossible not to appreciate her striking black eyes and lovely dark hair. But he’d refrained from studying the rest of her. It felt like a betrayal to his dead wife. And after what Lindsay had been through, it would’ve been wrong to leer at the poor lass.

But today he’d noticed. In quick glances, he’d taken in her tall frame and perfect breasts. Not too small but not too large. He’d found himself wondering if her nipples were the same rosy color as her lips. Even now that she was gone, he still wondered.

It was all for naught, just idle thoughts he’d never act on. Or rather couldn’t act on. His destiny was determined, and it wouldn’t do to dally with a lass he had no way of properly caring for, especially one who’d already been mistreated by his clansmen.

It was useless to think that if it weren’t for his duty, he might consider it. For his being married off was only one part of the problem. There was still the matter of his heart—that he no longer had one to give, it felt so shattered.

But, still, it was enjoyable spending time with her, someone he liked and felt comfortable with. Would he be lucky enough to feel the same friendship and comfort with the wife that awaited him? Or would it be a cold alliance, married in name only and otherwise remaining strangers?

Perhaps, expecting the worst would make anyone seem more pleasant in comparison. He laughed and finished preparing his meal. He carried a chair out onto the porch so he could enjoy the warm evening as he ate. Through the trees, he could see the orange and pink of the sun bending to the earth in the final light of the day.

He recalled the evenings he and Ronan had the opportunity to watch the sunset. How often they thought of the people at home and wondered if Tory or Alec was watching the same sky. A few minutes into his meal, he was joined by a small dog who trotted up on the porch as it sat next to him. “Aren’t ye the wee beggar?” he said to the dog as he dropped a few bites, which it quickly snatched up.

When Shane reached out to pet him, the dog ducked away, eyes closed as if expecting something harsher than a scratch behind the ears.

“This clan…” Shane muttered. “Attacking women and hurting wee dogs. How am I going to fix this?”

Instead of dropping more food on the floor, Shane held the next morsel out on the palm of his hand. At first, the dog paced and whined, clearly wanting the food but unwilling to put himself in harm’s way to get it.

Shane continued to speak soothingly to the animal, encouraging him to take the chance and see not everyone meant to harm him. It took a long while, possibly an hour, but Shane forced himself to be patient. After all, he’d need a great deal of patience to take on the work needed to make his clan one he could be proud of.

Eventually, both of them were rewarded when the little dog collected his courage and darted close enough to snatch the food from Shane’s hand. “Ah, there you go now. What a brave one ye are.”

He held out his hand again, and the dog only hesitated briefly before coming forward to get the treat. “See there? Didn’t I tell ye you could trust me?”

The next bit of food was held high, and when the dog reached up, Shane chuckled. “It would seem I’ve won the heart of a lass after all.”

She tilted her head to the side with her scruffy, gray ears cocked.

“Shall I call ye Treun, for you were a brave lass to take a chance at my door?” Again, when he reached out to pet her, she ducked away, but not so far as before.

He just needed time to earn her trust. Time.

He wondered how much time he had before he would have to give up this small life he was making and bear the responsibilities waiting for him at the castle.

“I’m not yet as brave as you, lass. I’m not ready. I fear I may never be.”

Chapter Four

Lindsay found herself rushing through her morning chores after a restless night. She rarely slept soundly, sharing a one-room cottage with four men—some smaller than others. But last night she found she didn’t wake from their noises as much as her thoughts of a certain soldier she’d been spending her time with.

She knew he was the reason she wished to finish cleaning up after the meal so she could steal away to his cottage and a bit of peace. In fact, she no longer counted down the hours waiting for word from her father telling her she could leave this place. She was glad to have some time before she’d have to leave.

Time with him. And would it be so bad if she kissed him, if she was to leave and not have to see him again?