Captivating A Highland Warrior (Steamy Scottish Historical Romance)

by Maddie MacKenna

  There were furry animal skins laid around the cold stone floor. Record books were scattered around his desk, each of them opened on the letter “M.” He had been trying to look for possible leads for Marion, but of course, he hadn’t told her that. That could have given her the wrong impression.

  He wasn’t sure that the impression would have been so wrong anymore, though. The events of the day puzzled him, and he found himself feeling new emotions.

  Though he had tried to convince himself otherwise, the events in the stable a few days ago and in the library had bothered him. He hadn’t meant to come off so rudely, but it had simply been so long since he had had to entertain a woman other than his sister.

  He had run after Marion later on to apologize, like Deirdre had wished. But instead, he’d found himself performing an act of heroism.

  When he had seen Marion in the corridor afterwards, she had a kinder look in her eyes. The fire of hatred that usually burned in her eyes was gone. Instead, there was a softer fire, sort of a spark to be seen behind those lashes.

  It was refreshing. He had only cared for one woman before in his life—Bethany. She had come into his life a long time ago, when he was but a young man. He had fallen for her headfirst, thinking she would become his wife later on in life. Bethany had been everything—beautiful, kind, well-mannered, interesting… but it had all turned out to be a lie. She had only been after a title. She had wanted to become a Lady.

  When Bethany left, Fionnghall’s heart shattered. He never wanted to even look at another woman again. What good could come of it?

  But there was something different about Marion. She was one of a kind, that was for sure. She wasn’t as plain and pretentious as the other English women he had met. And she wasn’t cold and distant, like the woman he was supposed to marry, Beitris MacDheorsa. And more than that, she seemed genuine. Besides, she already had a title. No need to look for another one in Scotland.

  The thought of his future betrothed made him twitch. It was an arranged marriage, of course, and didn’t please him in the slightest. Marion, on the other hand, had intrigued him and piqued his interest since the very first day. Until today, he had been under the very strong impression that she despised him. But for some reason, he wasn’t able to wipe Marion’s smiling face and warm eyes from his mind.

  7

  Spark

  Marion was awake in her bed. One candle was burning on her nightstand, bringing a flicker of light into the dark room. It was in the middle of the night and the whole castle was already sleeping. Marion had gone to bed hours ago, but simply couldn’t fall asleep.

  She had even tried reading the Bible to keep her thoughts engaged and occupied until she fell asleep. But tonight, the normal remedy hadn’t helped her one bit.

  She wasn’t thinking about her family or the Earl of Brookville. For once, she didn’t think about the shame she had brought upon her family. Now, she was thinking about something totally different.

  The kind look in the Laird’s eye the day before had given her unexpected feelings. He hadn’t looked as rough and acted as rudely as he normally did towards her. Maybe Deirdre had been right about the kind heart of his after all. Maybe she had judged him hastily.

  Marion was sure Deirdre had just been prejudiced because he was her brother. And true, maybe the Laird did always act civil and friendly around his sister. They were family. But yesterday had been the very first day when the Laird had shown any sort of kindness towards Marion.

  And humility, too. Marion adjusted the pillow under her head and closed her eyes.

  Maybe I have been unjust.

  The fact stood that the Laird had been rude to her on numerous occasions. She couldn’t even remember him smiling once since her arrival. He was always very serious and short-tempered.

  But he had hurried to the rescue of the little boy without a shadow of a doubt. And he wasn’t even his son. Just one of the children of the town. It did give him some points.

  Deirdre had always spoken so kindly of him, waving away his rudeness and slamming of doors.

  Of course, she knows him best. But is this good behavior and sudden warmth just a coincidence or a one-time event? Perhaps I haven’t been here long enough to make an informed decision about him.

  Marion decided to be less prejudiced the next time she met him. Clean slate. Just a new person to meet.

  She turned to her left side and blew out the candle. Darkness immediately took over the room and Marion shut her eyes again. Maybe she’d be able to get a few hours of sleep before the sunrise.

  * * *

  Marion woke up with a new feeling in her stomach. Expectation. She hurried to put on clothes and wash her face. She braided her hair and turned it into a neat bun in the back of her head. Finally, she pinched her cheeks a few times to bring on some blush. There, she thought as she admired her face in the mirror.

  She hurried to her door and grabbed the handle.

  What am I doing?

  She stopped in her tracks. There was a strange feeling in her stomach. Like she was expecting something to happen.

  She was curious to see if there was anything left of yesterday’s good behavior in the Laird’s dark eyes. Before opening the door, she took a deep breath and composed herself.

  What are you expecting, you silly goose? The Laird will probably be just as rude as he has been thus far. Just keep an open mind and see for yourself.

  She opened the door.

  The castle was already full of voices and hurrying servants. They had all become accustomed to seeing Marion wandering about the castle.

  “G’morning, Lady Marion,” a red-haired, chubby woman greeted her in the halls. She was carrying a bunch of new candles that she distributed throughout the castle.

  Marion greeted her and kept her pace. Normally, she would have stopped to exchange a few kind words but today, she was in a hurry for breakfast.

  As she opened the breakfast room door, Deirdre and the Laird were already there. They both looked up and Deirdre greeted her enthusiastically.

  “Good morning, Lady Marion. Please, sit. We thought ye might nae be joinin’ us this morning,” the Laird said.

  “Please forgive us, darlin’, fer startin’ without ye. I knocked on ye door about an hour ago and heard no answer, thought ye might still be sleepin’,” Deirdre said and took a bite of her toast.

  “No matter. Good morning,” she replied and smiled faintly to the Laird. She thought she saw a flicker of something in his eyes, but couldn’t be sure. At least he had spoken a complete sentence to her, and a kind one, for that matter.

  She sat down and filled her bowl with porridge.

  “Hungry, are ye?” the Laird asked and looked at the huge pile of porridge Marion had just poured into her bowl. There was a teasing hint in his voice.

  Marion blushed a bit. It was true, that her parents had always taught her that ladies ate as little as birds. But as her mother was not here giving her disapproving looks, she had gotten into a habit of eating as much as she pleased.

  Usually, she was already done with most of her food when the Laird arrived at breakfast. If he even arrived. Marion realized this was the first time that the Laird had seen her eat so much.

  Before Marion had a chance to say anything, the Laird continued.

  “It’s refreshing to see a lass eatin’.”

  Deirdre poked Marion on her side with her elbow and smiled at her a little bit.

  That sneaky little thing.

  “Marion, I must apologize. Me brother pointed out earlier that I have been a bit irresponsible, neglecting me studies lately,” Deirdre said. “I’m afraid I have to spend some time with me governess today. Will ye be much offended if I leave ye on yer own in the library fer today?”

  “Not at all. I am the one who should apologize. I’m afraid my presence and all the work we have been doing has been keeping you from your duties,” Marion replied.

  “Daenae worry about that, darlin’, there’s not much that happe
ns here. I can always go back to me studies. It has been more important to help ye. And more fun, I might add. But me brother reckons I should keep me governess happy,” Deirdre said, and rolled her eyes.

  The Laird looked at Deirdre with serious eyes but didn’t say anything. Marion smiled at Deirdre and assured her she would be perfectly fine on her own in the library.

  “How is yer search goin’, Lady Marion? Have ye found any leads?” the Laird asked, keeping his eyes on his plate. There was a curious look in his eyes, though he kept his voice steady and fairly nonchalant.

  This was the very first time the Laird had expressed any interest in Marion’s mission. In fact, it had never even come up before. It seemed like the softness of yesterday hadn’t worn off yet and that he was trying his best to be kind to Marion today. As if he had turned over a new leaf.

  Maybe he tried to start over, as well, just as Marion had thought earlier in her bedroom. To wipe away the resentment and see if there was something there, under the cold and vile shell.

  “Deirdre has been a great help to me over the past weeks. I believe we have spoken with almost everyone in town so far. But no one knows anything,” Marion said and a feeling of despair quickly filled her chest. Suddenly, she was in a hurry to get to the library to find more useful information.

  “We have compiled a list of last names starting with the letter M,” Deirdre said and handed it over to the Laird, who took it and looked at it silently for a while.

  The list wasn’t very long, it had about three dozen last names. He seemed to look at every name carefully.

  “Gille Chriost is a small town and Scotland is a big place,” he said slowly, handing the list back to Deirdre. “Ye should take a look at information about other nearby towns and perhaps a trip would be on order,” he said and finished his plate.

  A trip?

  Marion bit her lip. He appeared to be much more helpful today than he had been so far.

  “I am afraid that duty calls,” the Laird said shortly and got up. He nodded to both of them and left.

  * * *

  As Deirdre made her way to her room to study history, Marion headed for the library. She had the list of names with her and she was going to look up nearby towns. Maybe she could soon take a trip with Bells to a town close by to see if anyone knew any of the people on the list.

  She opened the library door and instantly felt a bit more hopeful. When she had set out on her journey to find her parents, she had known it would be hard. But she had never imagined how hard, exactly.

  Marion’s life had always been very sheltered and easy. A trip like this would take a toll on anyone, let alone someone like Marion, who had never had to do anything for herself. What made this even harder was that she only had the approximate geographic location, a timeline, and one letter to go on.

  If she had even known the town where her parents were from, the search would have been much easier. Deirdre and Marion had talked to almost everyone in town so far, even the servants of the castle. And no one knew anything.

  One town searched, an endless amount more to go.

  Marion looked at the backs of the books in the shelves.

  She picked a book that had maps of Scotland. Maybe she would be able to come up with a route for trips to take.

  As she sat down on the purple couch and opened the book, she suddenly became overwhelmed about how many possibilities there were. Perhaps her parents wouldn’t even be alive anymore. What if they lived on the other side of Scotland? How much longer would it take to find them? What if she never found them?

  Am I wasting my time? What if they won’t want to see me or what if I never find them? Have I ruined my old life as I know it for nothing?

  Marion buried her face into her hands and tried to calm down her fast, sharp breaths.

  The library door opened and the Laird stepped in. Marion quickly lifted her head and cleared her throat. The Laird looked a bit unsure.

  “I am sorry, Lady Marion, have I disturbed ye? I can go in the drawing room to finish me letters, if ye prefer to be left alone,” he said, one hand still on the door handle.

  “No, no, please, it is your library, after all,” Marion said and blinked quickly, trying to get rid of the moisture in her eyes.

  He stepped in silently and sat down in his usual spot by the window. He didn’t pay much attention to Marion, as he started his letters. Every now and then, he dipped the quill in a small bottle of ink. The only noise in the library was the scratching of the quill against paper.

  Marion found herself curiously looking at the Laird from the corner of her eye from time to time. He seemed to have completely forgotten Marion’s presence, but she was curious to see if his friendly behavior would continue now that Deirdre wasn’t there.

  “Laird Gille Chriost, might I ask for your opinion on something?” she tried carefully, not willing to light a fire in case he wasn’t going to be nice after all.

  “Hmm?” he replied absentmindedly, raising his eyebrows a little bit. Marion took this as a yes.

  “You suggested that a trip outside of the town might be in order. Where do you suppose I should head first?”

  He stopped writing immediately and pursed his lips. He placed his quill down on the desk and leaned back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head.

  “There is a bigger town, Ridgemoore, a couple of hours ride away, that might be a place to start,” he said and picked up his quill again, immersing himself in writing.

  She thanked him and they fell into silence. She searched for Ridgemoore on the map and found it easily. It wasn’t very far, in fact, it was the biggest town close by. Marion decided to talk with Deirdre about a trip there later on.

  The Laird had been very kind to her all day, and it intrigued her. In fact, she was interested to see how long this would last, so she decided to push her luck a little further.

  “Would you mind another question, Laird Gille Chriost?”

  He didn’t stop writing this time, but he looked at Marion quickly from underneath his thick and dark eyebrows.

  “If it pleases ye, me Lady,” he said and looked at his letter again. Marion felt her heart jump.

  “Deirdre told me about your parents. I can’t help feeling that me being English might have brought some unpleasant memories,” she said. This was a touchy subject, that Marion was certain of. She half expected the Laird to give her harsh words.

  “That’s not a question,” he said and a hint of a smile played in the corners of his perfect mouth.

  Marion smiled involuntarily and brushed a stray hair off her face.

  “Would you care to elaborate?” she encouraged.

  The Laird put his quill down again and folded the letter he had finished. He took a candle and a piece of purple wax in his hand. With the candle, he melted a bit of the wax that dripped onto the letter, sealing it tightly.

  Then he turned his warm eyes to Marion. Her heart jumped again and she turned her eyes away from his.

  What is happening?

  “Deirdre was very young when our parents died. She doesn’t remember anythin’ about what happened. ‘Tis true that I daenae harbor very friendly feelings towards the English, Lady Marion, but what happened years ago is hardly yer fault,” he said and stood up.

  Marion was still a bit fluttered from his suddenly warm look and she didn’t meet his eyes again. Instead, she bit her lip and focused hard on the map that was open in front of her.

  “I will see ye fer dinner,” the Laird said and left the room.

  Marion’s cheeks were flushed and she felt tingling sensations in her fingertips. She quickly shook her head as if she could shake away the butterflies in her stomach.

  * * *

  Fionnghall soon left the library to go hunting, as he and Jack often did. They had to keep the fresh food coming and hunting multiple times a week was a necessity. Not that he himself would have had to do it—his men were more than capable.

  However, hunting together with Jack was
a good time. They talked about nonsense and getting away from the castle and all the formalities suited Fionnghall quite well.

  The encounter in the library with Marion was still fresh in his mind and he ran it over and over again in his head. She had been surprisingly lively and talkative today. Not temperamental as she usually was. No sarcastic comments. No stinging voice. Just a regular conversation.

  It was refreshing. Marion had also looked more beautiful today than usual. It was her eyes that made the difference today. There was something… warm, in them. A sparkle of a sort.