To Desire a Highlander by Welfonder Sue-Ellen

Author:Welfonder, Sue-Ellen [Welfonder, Sue-Ellen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fiction / Romance / Historical / Scottish, Fiction / Romance / Historical / Medieval, Fiction / Romance / Historical / General
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2015-08-25T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

Gillian knew the moment Roag the Bear approached.

She’d been on the battlements nearly all day and gloaming was nigh, darkness already beginning to cloak the tower and its cliffs. The air was colder and the seas rough, the waves edged with white foam. Yet she’d only left her vantage point once, of necessity. Throughout the day, many men had passed behind her—guardsmen set by her captor to watch the horizon. Men who’d also been ordered to keep an eye on her, she was sure.

Either way, none of them had bothered her.

Their footsteps had come and gone as they’d made their dutiful rounds. Just as the earlier fog had lessened and was beginning to thicken again.

The footfalls coming toward her now weren’t Roag’s henchmen.

They belonged to him, and no one else.

The fine hairs lifting at her nape said so. As did the sudden quickening of her pulse, the agitated recognition that sent angry heat to bloom on her cheeks.

She turned and waited for him.

“You’re too late if you wished to gloat at my sorrow,” she said, her voice as cold as the chill of the blowing mist. “My father’s ship is gone from view. My eyes are no longer damp from looking on as she slipped over the horizon.”

“You have every right to think the worst of me, lass.” He stopped several feet away from her, his tone and the look on his face sending odd shivers up and down her spine.

Something was different about him, and whatever it was made her uncomfortable.

“I didnae come to taunt you,” he said, still making no move to step closer. “In truth, I let you be as long as I could, for I knew you’d need time to grieve.”

“Indeed.” I do not believe a word.

“I’ve seen to Skog.” He did take a step forward now, his tone, his expression, like another man entirely. Clasping his hands behind his back, he stared out at the sea and mist, as if he deliberately didn’t want to meet her gaze.

She understood—weren’t her eyes blazing with disdain?

She hoped so, anyway.

“Skog is not your concern.” He’s mine and has only looked on you kindly because he is old and sometimes confused.

“He is under my roof and so my responsibility,” he said, ignoring her reproof. “He’s been taken out often enough, and fed as well.” He paused, heaved a deep breath. “I just carried him back abovestairs to settle him for the e’en. He has fresh water and a bowl of cold, roasted venison should he be hungry again.

“When I left him, he was asleep.” He glanced at her then, his dark eyes seeming to say so much more than his words.

Things that, she was sure, had more to do with the two of them than the welfare of her dog.

“I thank you,” she offered, watching him carefully. “For all that you are, I cannot fault you for not caring for animals.” In truth, when I sought my chamber less than an hour ago to see to him myself, I turned back because I heard you in there, speaking to him comfortingly.

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