Rescued by Valan (The Pirates of Barra: Highland Raiders) Page 11

  Lady MacNeil sighed. Her long, black hair cascaded down her shoulder in waves, a striking contrast to the blue fabric of her gown. “Forgive me. ’Twas nae my intention. I had tae wait until yer mother left so we could speak in private.”

  Valan raised an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

  Claire removed her lambskin gloves then set them on the table. “I’m worried about Ewan. He hasn’t written me in weeks.”

  He sighed. “I thought I made it very clear I was nae going tae be involved in yer affair.”

  She frowned at him, her angelic face scowling. “But ye have tae ken what’s going on! ’Tis nae like him. He hasn’t responded to any of my letters. I’m heartsick from it. I even sent one of my guards tae inquire if something was amiss, and there was nae response.”

  Valan stood up from the hearth and turned to her, saying, “If Ewan has nae written ye, that’s hardly my concern.”

  “I’m nae asking ye tae be a go-between, I only want tae ken if he’s alive. Has something happened? Dinnae he want me anymore?”

  He scoffed. “Of course he does, but Ewan dinnae want ye tae worry.”

  Claire narrowed her eyes. “Worry about what, Valan? Ye ken something, and ye’re nae telling me. What is it?”

  “I’m afraid that’s nae my place tae say. If Ewan wanted ye tae ken he would have told ye. Ye need tae trust him.”

  “Valan, I swear tae God if ye dinnae tell me…” Through her anger, Valan could see tears beginning to prick at the corner of her eyes. She put on a strong face, as was expected from a woman of her station, but she was also but seven and ten and strongly ruled by her emotions. Claire MacNeil was just like any other lass when it came to love.

  Valan sighed. “We got word a couple weeks ago that Ewan was thrown from his horse while riding. ’Tis nothing serious, and he’s being well looked after, but Ewan dinnae want us telling ye because he knew ye’d be upset.”

  Claire swallowed hard, a thin mask of composure concealing her true feelings. “I see. So, something did happen. I was right tae be concerned.”

  “Aye. Ewan loves ye more than anything. He only wanted tae save ye distress.”

  She nodded stiffly. “And…is he well? What has happened since then?”

  “He’s doing fine. We’ve since been informed that he’s almost fully healed.”

  “Then I have nothing tae fear. He’ll be fine.”

  Valan nodded, placing his hand upon her shoulder. “Aye. All will be well.”

  She sniffed and then collected her gloves, saying, “Very well. It seems my fear has been misplaced. I’ll return tae Kisimul and await his letter informing me of such.”

  Valan offered her a tiny smile. “I ken that would be wise. Ye dinnae want yer father finding out about this. In the meantime, I’ll write tae Ewan and inform him of yer displeasure.”

  “Please do. He ken’s better than tae be keeping secrets.”

  Claire pulled the hood back up over her head and stood by the door, pausing with her hand on the wooden frame. “Valan?”

  “Aye, my lady?”

  Claire spoke in a cool, yet threatening tone, “Ewan keeping secrets from me is one thing. Ye, however, have nae excuse. If ye ever keep something like that from me again, or I’ll personally remove yer spleen and leave ye fer the crows.”

  Her face was as impassive, and to any other man it would have been utterly terrifying. Yet, knowing her the way he did, Valan could only smile. “Of course. I would expect nothing less from the Lady of Kisimul.”

  She went to leave again when Valan stood up to stop her. Her green eyes pierced through the darkness with venom as he approached.

  “Claire, ye ken better than tae threaten me. I could ruin ye if I wanted tae. I could turn yer world upside down and destroy all thoughts of happiness. Ewan is dear tae us both. Ye ken that I love him just as much as ye dae. Dinnae let a silly thing like fear come between our friendship, because of a temporary lapse in judgement.”

  Lady MacNeil flushed high in her cheeks and huffed in exasperation before flinging the door open and stepping out into the night. After she left, Valan exhaled a tired sigh and sat down in one of the chairs. Mollie laid her head in his lap and looked up at him with big brown eyes. “What? Ye think I was tae hard on her?” he asked jokingly.

  Bridget and his mother returned shortly thereafter, carrying buckets of water on their shoulders. He smiled at the two of them as they carried on in their conversation. Bridget seemed in better spirits, and it pleased him to see her conversing with his mother. He didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling them what happened. Ailsa was terrified of the laird after what happened years ago and knowing Claire had been in their home would only stoke her fears.

  “It’s getting cold outside,” Ailsa commented. “Dae we have enough wood fer the fire?”

  Valan glanced at the stack of firewood in the corner and replied, “It should get us through the night, but I’ll need tae cut some on the morrow.”

  Ailsa nodded and served them each a bowl of stew before joining them at the table. They had a pleasant conversation and enjoyed the meal, soon Valan forgot about Claire’s untimely visit. After they were finished, Ailsa retired to her rooms for the night to focus on her knitting.

  When it was just the two of them, Bridget turned to him and said, “Valan, is something wrong? Ye seem distracted.”

  Valan sighed and sat down beside her on the floor. “Whatever is upsetting me, it has nothing tae dae with ye.”

  She smiled weakly as he placed his hand against her cheek. “Very well. I just wanted tae make sure.”

  A portion of her wavy, brown hair tumbled down her shoulder. In the light of the fire, it looked almost red.

  “Ye can talk tae me,” he assured her. “I enjoy listening when ye speak.”

  Bridget blushed. “Thank ye. When I was young my father always told me that lasses were tae be seen and nae heard. ’Twas always getting me in trouble.”

  He chuckled “Ye’d fit in well here.”

  She wagged her eyebrow with a grin. “Is that so?”

  “Aye. Here in the Barra women are treated differently. The men are so often gone on raids, it falls on the women to maintain the village. They’re the backbone of our community. In fact, the laird’s own daughter is set tae inherit his throne. Ye met her once— Lady Claire. She came up here tae the cottage.”

  “How is that possible? Wouldn’t the men disapprove?”

  “The laird ensured his posterity many years ago. Whene’er a new captain is appointed, they are summoned tae Kisimul for a vow of loyalty. Thomas knew ’twas more important fer the people tae see the future of the clan than anything else. Claire MacNeil is the future of our clan, we all ken it. So, ’twas agreed that the captains swear loyalty tae her.”

  “Including ye?”

  “Aye, including me.”

  Bridget pursed her lips and said, “She must be an impressive woman.”

  “She is,” Valan agreed. “We swear nae out of fear, but because she is the essence of Clan MacNeil–born and raised. Everyone in the Barra respects her. Everyone. She is wise, well-spoken, and nae afraid of bloodshed. She can rule our people better than anyone. Loyalty tae her is easily given, because she’s the only person we all trust.”

  She hummed thoughtfully. “It almost sounds as like ye have feelings fer her.”

  Valan barked a laugh. “Nae. Claire is more like a sister tae me. I have affection fer her, but nae of the romantic sort—she’s nae my type.”

  “Ye’re nae attracted tae beautiful women?”

  “Well, of course I am. Just nae in this particular instance.”

  Bridget chuckled, looking back at him in the firelight. “Funny. Claire seems like everything my father wanted me tae be.”

  He leaned back against the wall beside her and got a far off look in his eye. “Sorry, but I cannae say that I agree with him. I prefer my lasses less cool.”

  She blushed again. “Perhaps ye’d like the bar wench at the tavern?
I saw her looking at ye.”

  “I dinnae want the bar wench. I dinnae want any of them.”

  “I find that hard tae believe.”

  “Maybe before,” he admitted. “But I think my preferences have changed.”

  Bridget smiled weakly. “Mayhap it’s nae the lasses ye enjoy, but the chase.”

  “It’s possible, but more likely that I ne’er allowed myself tae feel powerfully enough fer one woman.”

  She blushed, seeming to grasp the deeper meaning of what Valan was saying. “Ye’re teasing me.”

  He shook his head. “Nae. If anything, I’m holding back out of fear of speaking too plainly.”

  Their eyes met from across the room, and Bridget gazed back at him with the same hunger he felt. Eventually, Bridget wet her lips and told him, “If this is holding yer tongue, I should like tae ken what happens when ye set it free.”

  Valan paused. “Be careful what ye wish fer. I just may take ye up on it.”

  Her boldness fascinated him, and they stared at one another for a long time. Neither of them spoke, afraid of spoiling the tender moment. It was getting more and more difficult for him to pretend that he did not have feelings for her.

  She was perfect.

  His eyes softened as he reached out to touch a strand of her hair. “Have I ever told ye that ye’re beautiful?”

  Bridget looked up at him with her lips parted slightly. “Nae…”

  His heart pounded in his chest, forgetting himself in a moment before coming to his senses and forcing himself to look away.

  She chuckled nervously. “Perhaps we should go tae bed. I’m getting tired.”

  “Aye. It’s been a long day. Goodnight, Bridget.”

  “Goodnight.”

  Reluctantly, Valan dropped her hand and went to lay on the pallet bed in the corner. Even as he pressed his head against the pillow, his body felt restless. His eyes drifted across the room to where Bridget laid, and their eyes met.

  A bittersweet smile crept across his lips as they stared at one another, wanting so much more than what they had. He wanted to hold her, to take her in his arms and kiss her senseless, letting the warmth of her embrace heal them both.

  Curse those perfect, pink…irresistible kissable lips, he thought.

  He sensed they would break his heart one day.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  H ours after she went to bed, Bridget lay awake staring at the ceiling.

  The waves of her dark brown hair cascaded over the pillowcase. She’d been tossing and turning all night, but her mind would not give her peace. It used to be her dreams would bring back memories from the attack, but now they had changed into something different—Valan. Everything was Valan. Whenever she closed her eyes, Bridget imagined Valan beside her. She couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting more and it left her unsatisfied.

  Every day she found herself discovering something new about him, something different, and that was wonderful and fascinating. It eased the pain of losing both her father and their men, at least for a time.

  Eventually, she threw off the covers and knew she’d be getting no sleep this eve. Bridget sat up on the mattress and gazed around the little cottage, faintly lit by a few remaining embers in the hearth. The rustic surroundings were nothing like the walls of Castle Varrich where she grew up, but it held more appeal to her now than any castle ever would.

  Aesthetically, the home was simple, with a large central room and a hearth in the middle. There were two bedrooms, each on an opposite wall. One of them belonged to Ailsa, the other to Valan and Ewan. While she’d been with them, Bridget slept on a mattress which had been pulled out into the living area. Valan had adorably taken up the habit of sleeping on the floor across from her—a habit which she found endearing and quite enjoyed.

  She glanced over to him and smiled when she found him sleeping that way. His handsome face perfectly serene and dark hair swept carelessly to the side. The light danced across his face, casting long shadows across his jaw. As her eyes rested on him, she felt the urge to trace her fingers down his cheek.

  Why was this happening? she wondered.

  Her gaze lingered on his face a moment longer and she frowned.

  In the short time since she arrived at Castlebay, Valan had become dear to her—he was her refuge. He could make her laugh, and made her forget the pain of loss.

  Carefully, Bridget stepped out onto the floor and shivered from the chill. She wrapped the blanket around her shoulders and went to place kindling on the fire.

  The flames crackled around the log as she laid it on the burning embers. When it caught fire with the rest, she sat down with a tired sigh and watched the orange flames dance. Slowly, the heat enveloped her, and Bridget’s eyes flickered back to where Valan rested.

  Despite everything—including the circumstances that brought her here—she was happy. And for that, she would never forgive herself.

  In a way, it felt like she was swimming upstream. The imaginary current kept leading her to Valan, bringing them together the same way it had brought her to the Barra. Fighting against it was both exhausting and pointless to pursue. It would be so easy to let go and allow the forces of the current to take her.

  What she wanted didn’t matter; her path was already laid out for her. As soon as the weather cleared it would be time for them to sail, and she’d leave Valan and Castlebay behind her. It would be like her time on the island never happened. That should have brought her comfort, knowing that her path would soon align with what was intended. Yet, it was just the opposite.

  Before her feelings could overtake her, Bridget ripped her gaze away from him and turned her attention back to the smoldering flames. Her eyes misted with tears and she breathed out slowly to keep from crying.

  Rodrick, she told herself firmly. He’s yer future.

  She tried to picture her betrothed’s face, but nothing came. All she could see was the man across the room from her—the one who rescued her, cared for her…made her feel like her life wasn’t falling apart.

  Valan.

  Bridget heard him sigh and roll over on the ground, so her eyes flickered in his direction. Blearily, Valan sat up turned to look at her. He smiled at her sleepily while running his fingers through his hair and came to join her at the fire.

  “Ye’re still awake?” he asked. “I thought ye’d be exhausted.”

  His voice was dark and raspy from having just woken up, and she chuckled dryly. “I am, but I could nae sleep. I’m sorry if I woke ye.”

  Valan grinned. “Dinnae apologize. I’d rather be awake and enjoy yer company than sleep anyhow.”

  Bridget bit her lip to conceal a smile.

  “Is something on yer mind? Mayhap there’s something I could dae tae help.”

  She shook her head. “Nae. I was just thinking about what will happen when the rain stops.”

  He nodded in understanding. “Aye, ye wanted tae travel tae Castle Strome.”

  Bridget pursed her lips. “Aye. That’s what my betrothed will be expecting.”

  He placed his hand on top of hers. “Then why dae ye sound so sad? That is what ye wanted, isn’t it?”

  She swallowed hard. “I dinnae have a choice. My father signed a wedding contract, that means my fate is sealed.”

  “We always have a choice,” he murmured softly.

  Her chest felt tight as they wove their fingers together. Looking at him, she said, “Somehow, this place has become a part of me. I dinnae want tae leave. Bess and Elspeth, Ailsa, yer men…it feels like I’m abandoning them.”

  Valan nodded slowly and brought her fingers to his lips to kiss them. “They will be sad tae see ye go, but they understand. We only want ye tae be happy.”

  Her heart fluttered at the intimacy of his connection, and she asked, “What about ye? Ye’ve become my greatest friend.”

  Valan gently pulled his hand away. “I think ye already ken. It will be like my heart is ripped in two.”

  Bridget sniffed as she turned back
to the fire. “We have tae talk about something else, I cannae bear it.”

  “Bridget—”

  “Please, Valan!” she begged. “It hurts too much. Tell me something different, something I dinnae ken.”

  He sighed. “Very well. What dae ye want tae ken?”

  “Ye ne’er told me what happened tae yer brother.”

  Valan cleared his throat and looked away from her uncomfortably. “Very well, if ye insist. The simple answer, is Ewan left fer his own protection. The laird banished him after taking offense at something Ewan did. He told my brother tae leave Castlebay and ne’er come back. He said if Ewan ever set foot on MacNeil land again, he would gut him navel tae nose.”

  Bridget gasped. “How awful!”

  Valan nodded in agreement. “Aye. Anyway, Ewan left the following day and we have nae seen him since.”

  “I’m so sorry…how long ago was that?

  “Four years.”

  “Four years?” she exclaimed. “What could he have done tae deserve that kind of treatment?”

  Valan grinned at her sadly. “He fell in love with a lass he was nae supposed tae. They adored each other, but she was already under negotiations fer a marriage contract tae another. Ewan begged her father tae reconsider and let him marry the lass instead, but the man refused.”

  Her forehead crinkled. “That’s horrible, but I dinnae understand why that would upset the laird.”

  “Because the laird is her father.”

  “Ye mean…Lady Claire? She’s the one yer brother is in love with?”

  “Aye. Ever since they were children.”

  “That is the saddest story I’ve ever heard.”

  Valan gave a mournful nod. “After asking fer permission tae marry her, Laird MacNeil flew into a rage. He had the guards beat him until Ewan’s face was unrecognizable. Miraculously he survived, but it left a scar on the side of his face. Nae a horrible disfigurement mind ye, but an awful scar nae less. When we saw what they did tae him, Mam and I arranged fer Ewan tae leave. Now he lives with the MacLeod, and from what I hear is quite happy.”

  She placed her hand on top of his, tears brimming at the corner of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Valan. I had nae idea. Nae wonder ye dinnae like tae talk about him.”