“Everything is all right, Joan, I have spoken with him,” Aidan said as he opened the door for her, and she entered his room.
Joan noticed how lavishly decorated Aidan's room was. She was about to question him about it but she remembered that he had said his master saw him as a son.
“Ian had told me that there was trouble waiting in Scotland for me. He told me there was long-standing enmity between Haerton and Rattray What could he mean?” Aidan mentally cursed Ian as he shook his head at Joan with a small smile.
"Nonsense. Ian must have been trying to pull yer leg. Ye have nothin' to worry about in Scotland and if anyone tries to bother ye, tell me about it. I will have me sword in their stomach before they can even beg me to spare them,” he said as he threw an arm around her shoulder in assurance. His earthy smell invigorated her spirit and she settled into his embrace.
The door slammed open and they jumped away from each other. Aidan remembered the first time that had happened. He looked back to see who had entered his room without permission, he seemed ready to lash out but stopped when he came to face the brunette who had a deep frown on her face.
“Ye came back and decided nae to come to see me?” She sounded angry. “I had to find out from me hand maiden!”
“Ye have no right to barge into me private quarters,” Aidan shot back at her, but it only seemed to make her angrier. Her eyes fell on Joan and Aidan pushed Joan behind him, shielding her from the woman's glare. “Go wait for me downstairs, Eimear.”
“Let the lass leave,” Eimear sneered. “I have something important to talk to ye about.”
Aidan narrowed his eyes at the woman who sent him a glare of her own. Joan could feel the tension as both people tried to stare each other down. “Go, Eimear. I will see ye when I have the time.”
“I am yer mistress, Aidan! I demand more respect than this! Ye want to throw me out because of her?” Eimear pointed at Joan, who was still behind Aidan's back. Her brown eyes were filled with anger and hate as she glared at Joan, who gulped and buried her face in Aidan's back.
“Go, Eimear.”
“But—” Aidan raised his voice at her, cutting her off.
“I told ye to go! I will see ye when I have time,” he snapped at her and she jumped. She huffed and turned on her heels and slammed the door in her wake. “Are ye all right?” he asked Joan who nodded.
“Yes, I am,” Joan replied.
“Let us join the feast,” Aidan said as he led her out of his room.
He has a mistress.
Chapter 11
Sir James shot a nasty look at his companions. One had been injured by a wild boar a while back and was still bleeding. Another soldier was trying to stop the bleeding with hot stones. They had set up a quick fire and heated up some stones to cauterize the wounds. An hour had passed and hopes of saving him were dwindling.
“Sir James, he is still bleeding! What if he bleeds to death?” the second man said as he reached for another stone with a piece of cloth.
“Lift him up onto his horse. I hear the gushing of water nearby. Sounds like a river is close. We can wash the wound and see how deep it really is,” Sir James said and waited for both men to get on the horses before leading them toward the sound of running water.
Not long after, they came to an inn with men seated outside in benches, enjoying their drinks. As he got down from his horse, a woman with brown hair and brown eyes came over to them. She had a big yet suspicious smile on her face and it made the knight uneasy. “Welcome. How may I be of service?” she asked as Sir James took out a small painting of Joan.
“Firstly, have you seen this woman?” he asked and she pretended to think. “There is a reward for her.”
The woman beamed. “Ah yes. Come to think of it, I did see her. She was with two men.”
“Anything else?” Sir James asked as he looked around. A familiar dress hanging on a clothesline caught his eye. “Is that a gown?” he asked as he went over to the line and pulled down the bloody gown. His eyes widened as he recognized the embroidery. He looked at the dress then at the picture of Joan and he dropped the dress in shock. He shakily picked up the cloth and turned so his men could see his discovery. “This dress. It is the same one in this painting. It is the same dress she wore the day before she disappeared. It was her favorite. This is not good. This is not good at all.”
“What do we do now?” one of his men asked him.
“We have to report this to Lord Tyrill. Back to England,” he said as he got on his horse, painting and bloody dress in hand as he charged out of the inn with his men behind him.
“You said there was a reward!” the brown-haired woman yelled but he didn't look back.
They have injured her! They have tortured her! They will pay!
Joan felt a little out of place at the table where Aidan had her sit. She was surrounded by his master and his wife, Ian, Eimear, and Aidan. She felt like she was a bother to them all but it would be rude to leave the table.
It's best I keep to myself.
She watched as they joked among themselves, leaving her to pick at her food. Aidan did occasionally chip in to ask how she was doing. Not wanting to sound rude, she smiled and told him she was fine.
“So, Miss Hale,” the Laird said. She turned to him.
“Please, My Lord, call me Joan," she chirped and the man nodded.
“Very well then. Joan, how was the journey? Me son tells me that it is yer first journey out of England,” he asked as he bit into one of the Scottish pies that they had all been served as dessert.
“It was exciting and dangerous. It showed me another side of life. It was very different than the life I had grown up to know.” He raised his cup to have a drink and when he put it down she could see the drops of wine in his blond beard.
Unlike Aidan, she noticed he had reddish skin, a far cry from Aidan's creamy skin. They both had blond hair, although Aidan's hair was curled elegantly while the Laird's hair was straight. The Laird had brown eyes that gave him a warmer look, unlike Aidan's sharp blue eyes, which gave him an intense look. Aidan had sharper features while the Laird had softer features, as he was chubby.
I should stop looking at him.
His wife, on the other hand, had wild, fiery curls that looked untamed. Her hair covered her delicate shoulders and back and stopped right after her lower back. Her creamy skin was stained with freckles and her bright blue eyes made her soft features look sharper than they actually were.
“What kind of life did ye live?” the Laird asked. Joan noticed Aidan was not paying attention to what his master was asking her because he was talking to Eimear.
“I lived a confined life.”
“Why did ye decide to come to Scotland then?” his wife was the one who asked her a question this time.
“I wanted to see more of the world and learn from experience, not just by reading books,” Joan said as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"Can ye wield a weapon?” his wife asked Joan and sighed when Joan shook her head. "Why? Were ye never taught? Here in Scotland we train men and women just the same way except for a few cases." The woman said and looked over to Eimear.
"Aidan told me so," Joan replied, now genuinely interested in what the woman had to say. "What weapon do you use?"
"Me faither's arrow. The old man taught me everything he ken. I could take ye to go shoot some by the marrow." Joan nodded eagerly and Aidan stopped her from accepting any more invitations.
"I apologize, mother, but Joan and I have plans to go horseback riding," he said, throwing an arm over her shoulder.
"She will stay here Aidan." Joan looked at the Laird who spoke and stared with an angry undertone. "No one will take her anywhere. I cannae risk letting the Earl know that I have an Englishwoman in me town."
"Yes, I agree with the Laird." Eimear started but was forced to stop talking when Aidan glared her down.
"She will be fine with me. No one will even ken she is nae from here." Aidan said,
trying to reason with the older man. "Daenae ye want her to be seen with ye or is it because she is English."
"Ye ken what is going on in Scotland and Englishmen are nae welcome. Especially nae an English woman!" The Laird bellowed and Joan shrunk in her seat.
Maybe I shouldn't have come.
"But…" Aidan started but was stopped when the Laird's wife grabbed his arm and tugged lightly.
"Sit down and eat ye food, Aidan. She will go nowhere." Aidan glowered at his master who matched his angry stare with his own. Aidan retreated first and grabbed Joan's hand and led her out of the courtyard.
It was hard for Joan to keep up with Aidan's fast pace, so she had to run after him. "Aidan, stop. I cannot keep up with you." She called out but Aidan couldn't hear her over his anger. Joan suddenly yelped and fell, alerting Aidan who quickly turned and caught her before she could hit the marble floor. Joan winced and tried to get back up. Aidan put a hand behind her back and another one behind her legs and lifted her up.
"I apologize Joan. I was pulling ye too much," he said as she opened the door to her room and gently laid her on the bed. He quickly removed her shoe to see why she had fell and saw a small cut on her left foot. "Did ye step on yerself?" he asked as she nodded. "Wait here," he said and left the room. He came back with a small jar of ointment.
"You do not have to. It is just a tiny wound," Joan said, trying to stop him, but he had already started to apply the ointment. "You care too much Aidan." She laughed and he cracked a smile.
"I apologize about me… master. Daenae be offended with the way he spoke about ye." Aidan said as he covered the ointment and pushed it aside.
"It is nothing really. I half expected this reaction." She reached for his hand as she sat in the bed next to her. "When do we leave?"
"Leave?"
"Yes. When do we leave for other places as you promised?"
I can hardly wait.
"Um… soon. Once me work here is done, we can leave," he said as she played with his hand, trying to fit hers in his.
"Your hand is bigger than mine. It covers my hand completely," she commented with a small smile.
I wonder where we will go next.
Aidan looked down at her childish play and smiled. She was so innocent in his eyes.
She has nae hate and nae prejudices. Her innocence makes her bonnier in me eyes every day.
She giggled and he felt bad, knowing she was only trying to distract herself from the harsh things his father said.
He suddenly felt her fingers on his face and he snapped out of his thoughts to listen to her.
"Are you all right?" she asked and he nodded. "I asked you if you could show me around the estate tomorrow since you are not allowed to take me out."
She left her castle to join me and roam the world, she shouldnae be confined to another castle in a foreign land. I cannae let her live like this.
"Oh. Of course." She beamed at him when he agreed and took her hands off his face. "Return them."
"What?"
"Daenae take yer hands away," he said as he raised her hand to his face. He saw her flush red as she took her hands back to her chest.
"What is wrong?" he asked and she shook her head. He took her hands and placed them on his face as he leaned closer to her. He could see her blush deepening but did not stop when he saw she did not push him off.
He felt her relax when his lips met hers. His hands reached for her waist and pulled her closer to him. She eagerly responded as his rough mouth brushed over the softer skin of her lips. He let one hand leave her waist and push her head closer to his. Joan started to feel dizzy and she held onto his shoulders for support even though he had one hand holding her.
He slowly broke their kiss and stared into her hazel eyes, panting softly and with pleasure, his lips hovering over hers. "Bonnie," he muttered as he kept his hand behind her head running through her hair.
They kissed again, but this time Joan was the one who took his lips.
Lord Tyrill stared at his men who were weary from running all day. He had learnt that they had their horses run a three-day journey in one day because they had a clue of where Joan was.
Lord Tyrill had concluded that the witch and her spawn, Aidan were keeping Joan from him to torment him, so he prayed. He prayed that the last scar stays the way it is till Joan is found.
"What do you have?" he asked Sir James who looked downcast. "Hurry up with it."
"Yes, my lord," the knight said as he shakily dug in his bag and took out the bloodied dress and the painting. "My Lord we came across an inn in the forest and found this dress. The innkeeper said Miss Hale came with two men and they left that on the clothing line."
"What are you trying to say?" the Lord asked the knight who took a deep breath before replying.
"The dress belongs to Miss Hale, my lord."
Lord Tyrill only stared at his feet before throwing the dress away. "Joan is not dead!"
"But, my lord, it was the same dress she wore on the night she was taken and she is wearing the same dress in the painting," Sir James said as he picked the dress that was now at his feet. "No doubt it belonged to the Lady."
"No!" the Lord snarled at the knight. "Look at this!" The Lord used his teeth to raise his sleeve and showed the knight the last scar. "This has not bled! Once this scar starts to bleed, then Joan is dead!”
“But it is a scar, My Lord. It has already healed, how can it bleed again?” the knight asked, stepping back as Lord Tyrill stepped closer to him.
“This scar must bleed before I believe that my daughter is dead! Find her and bring her to me. Send news everywhere, two thousand sterling to whoever brings her back!”
"My Lord…” the knight began to say, but Lord Tyrill interrupted.
“Go! Find her and bring her to me!” Lord Tyrill yelled and the knight bowed before leaving to do as he was told.
Once the knight was gone, Lord Tyrill pulled on his coat and went to see the Duke of Haerton. He was asked to wait in the garden and this time, he was able to see the Duke.
“Lord Tyrill! What a pleasant surprise,” the young Duke said as he came into the garden.
“Your Grace, I have urgent issues to discuss with you,” Lord Tyrill said as he straightened up from his bow.
“Matthew, you were a great friend of my father, I would be happy to help,” he said, a small smile playing on his face.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” the Duke sighed and nodded before taking a seat on one of the marble benches. “It is about my daughter. You see, Your Grace, I had a scuffle with a witch about twenty-five summers ago and she cursed me. She told me that I would face three great despairs in life before my death and true to her word, my wife died during childbirth, and not so long after I lost my fighting arm, as you well know. Now my daughter had been kidnapped by the witch's spawn. I need your assistance to find my daughter.”
The Duke rubbed his chin as if in thought before he started to laugh.
“So you think your daughter has been taken from your estate by a witch?” the Duke asked amidst laughter. “That is the silliest thing I have heard in a very long time. I sadly do not think there's any truth in your story.”
“Your Grace, I speak the truth! My daughter has been kidnapped and…” the Lord was interrupted by the Duke raising his hand to silence him.
“I do not want to listen to your imaginary stories, Matthew. Come back when your reason is restored. Have a good night,” he said as he got up and left the garden. Lord Tyrill felt embarrassed as he left the castle and got on his horse and rode back to his estate.
I know Joan is not dead. I will find her no matter what. It does not matter if that drunk believes me.
Chapter 12
Aidan covered Joan's face with the hood of the cloak and dragged the hesitant girl to his horse. “If your master comes to know of this, he will be livid. Aidan, I do not want to do this,” Joan said as she tried to run back to the estate, but Aidan grabbed her arm and lifted her over his should
er, earning a small scream from her. He chuckled at her attempt to get away as he set her down on a horse.
“I just want to get me sword sharpened. We can go for a ride while my sword is being worked on. Ye deserve some fun,” Aidan explained as he raced out of the estate.
His father's estate was located on top of a hill that oversaw the entire town. His parents and grandparents had led the clan for decades and soon the position would fall to him.
Highlander's Cursed Bride: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 10