by Blair Keith
And he could not.
As the men approached, Silena cried out, and as she did the door flew open. Behind it were the men of Laird Ronan, headed by the man himself. Eadan could scarcely identify him. Ronan in tales was always a disfigured brute, a troll or an ogre of a man. This Ronan was barely a day older than Eadan himself, fit and healthy, with an expression of genuine care and distress etched into his brow. He was so... human. So normal. He could have been Eadan's own brother, in another life.
Ronan seemed astonished and confused as he looked about the room, his eyes landing first on the consul, then on the naked Eadan, and finally on his sister. Ronan beamed and marched through Eadan's confused soldiers, shoving them aside. This woke them from their trance, and they reached to seize Ronan, only to meet the flurry of blades that emerged from the Davidson Clan warriors.
Eadan seized his opportunity in the middle of the confusion to throw his own soldiers off himself and seize a sword. Nude or not, he had to fight for his life, for Silena, and for the respect of the man he hoped to turn from foe, into brother in law.
As the room sprung to life, all worked hard to thin out the crowd, attempting to maim or kill the enemy without accidentally injuring their comrades in the tight space.
Unexpectedly, Eadan found himself fighting literally back to back with his historic enemy, slaughtering his own men as they attempted to restrain him, failing each time. And it felt good. He felt proud. Ronan may not know it yet, but they were fighting on the side of progress, on the side of the future. They were mending a relationship that had been so painfully severed for so many generations.
The two men fought through the soldiers towards the bed, where one intrepid young soldier attempted to take Silena hostage, seizing her arm with one hand and lifting a blade swiftly towards her neck with the other. But she saw what was happening and began to tear herself free. He clasped a hand over her mouth to stop her from crying out. But it was too late. His eyes locked with Eadan and he froze, realizing he had been discovered.
Silena bit the man's hand hard, causing him to cry and strike. But as the blade fell, Eadan leapt in, blocking it from reaching her chest. She panted heavily, eyes wide in panic, and seized the blade that had landed on her. Eadan did not expect her to fight. However well-trained and fierce she may or may not be, she was still a woman, and still ashamed of her nakedness. But he found comfort in seeing her armed, knowing there was yet another barrier between her and the enemy that wanted her dead.
Eadan's attention was suddenly captured by a loud clang, mere inches from his head. He looked over his shoulder, back towards the room, and saw the shimmer of a finely sharpened steel blade, close enough that he could smell the metal and blood.
It was Ronan's sword, stopping the consul from impaling Eadan. The consul, holding a blade that was far too big and heavy for him, gritted his teeth in frustration, pushing against Ronan's sword. Ronan smiled warmly before flinging the consul back and resuming battle. Eadan guarded Silena. He realized then that Ronan did not know who he was. Ronan did not realize that the consul was not the Laird. Ronan did not know he had just saved his mortal enemy's life. All he knew was that he had protected the man who was protecting his sister.
As Ronan cast the consul against the wall and held the blade to his neck, the remaining men looked about the room, seeing the sheer amount of blood and bodies, and knelt before Eadan, pleading for forgiveness. He did not care. He walked up to his consul, and Ronan stepped aside as Eadan slammed the traitor hard against the wall.
"Do you have anything to say for yourself?" he asked, glaring.
"Please, My Laird, I beg for your mercy and forgiveness," the consul said, shivering.
Looking down briefly, Eadan confirmed that the consul had once again wet himself. "You know I am not a man with inclinations of mercy and forgiveness," he said slowly.
The consul shook his head. "You can forgive Clan Davidson, Laird Eadan," he said.
"They shall be forgiven. You shall not," Eadan replied.
"Wait, ye are Laird Eadan of Aberdeenshire, head of Clan Stuart?" Ronan exclaimed, still embracing his sister, holding the blankets up high around her naked body, protecting her from any further prying eyes.
Eadan nodded. "Aye."
"And you saved my sister's life?" he asked.
Eadan nodded again. "Aye. And you saved mine from this pathetic little worm."
Ronan hesitated, his eyes narrowing, lips pursed. Silena leaned in and whispered into his ear. The whole time, Ronan's expression did not change. As she finished, Ronan sighed and smiled. "I suppose I shall be accepting your forgiveness. Do you accept mine?"
"On two conditions," Eadan said.
"And what might they be?" Ronan asked warily.
"Firstly, I should like your men to escort my consul and the other traitors into the dungeons below, where they shall be held until they are executed at lunch time," Eadan said flatly.
Ronan nodded. "There is no problem there. And the second condition?"
"That I may marry your sister, for I would be willing to continue warring for a thousand years if I am not allowed to wed such a precious young woman," he replied.
Ronan laughed a little. "I suppose, from the looks of it, you're bound by moral obligation to wed one another," he said, looking Eadan up and down. "Though I dare not think of it any longer."
"Excellent," Eadan replied. "Does that please you too, Silena?"
Silena nodded, face bright red. "If I may have two Lairds to protect me, and peace for our Clans, nothing could ever please me more."
Eadan turned to his consul, who was now whimpering again, tears rolling down his cheeks.
"It seems there shall be an execution this afternoon after all. And a wedding in for extra entertainment," Eadan said with a wide grin. "Are you happy to hear so, consul? The people will get precisely what they want."
CHAPTER TEN
Silena had fought with the idea of telling her brother all about her time as Eadan's prisoner, about the early days, and the rape. On the one hand, she understood that her brother would want to know. He cared deeply about her, and probably wondered why, when Eadan approached her by surprise, with drink on his breath, she recoiled from him nervously. He probably wondered why she and Eadan were so close physically, when she had been so polite and demure before she was kidnapped. He probably wondered what Eadan's plan had been when he kidnapped Silena, and why her dress was found so ruined in the dungeon, why she was so obviously a prisoner and at once Eadan's lover.
But she knew her brother would never forgive the man like she could, like she had. And the Clans were on the brink of friendship once and for all.
The people had been angry that the two Lairds were considering a union, but over time, happiness and hopefulness blossomed, especially as they realized that the union would be cemented by a wedding, with time for all to celebrate, drink and make merry. Finally, they saw each other as human beings, and the borders between the Lairdships were open for people to wander as they pleased.
Besides... she was deeply in love with Eadan. She wanted him. She needed him. And now, with her brother's blessing, she was to marry him. It was a dream come true for Silena, and she could not bear the thought of the two men becoming enemies once again. Now that they had met, they were all but brothers in law, and close as brothers, literal or legal, could be.
Ronan turned a blind eye to their premarital sex. As far as he knew, Eadan had been kind and gentle to his sister. And he would always be left to assume that Eadan had taken her virginity consensually, in the bed in the top dungeon in the tower. After all, no man liked to think of his family in bed. And if he did not imagine it, then he would remain happy forever.
Which meant she was not allowed to have a single doubt about the wedding. She could not reconsider it, or everything would fall apart. So, she had to ignore the sacrifices she had made earlier on, the torment she had endured, and focus on their future together, as a family, leading Scotland into a bright new age. Ma
rried to her kidnapper, abuser, and rapist.
She knew under any normal circumstances all this would be so very wrong. But for now, for her, for them... it was right. It had to be. She had to fight for the Lairdship. So whenever doubt raised its nagging head, she suppressed it.
Not that it was hard to do. Eadan was still a handsome, desirable man. And now that she consented to his contact, he was always eager to shower her with his affections, and always respectful when she refused him. It was like he had transformed.
Still, as she sat contemplating her fate, she jumped as soon as Eadan wrapped his arms around her and inhaled the scent of her hair. There was still a wickedness about this man. There was still something about the way he crept around, about his silent padding like a hunting cat, about the way he relished the expression of suffering in others.
She could still remember the energy around him on the day the Clans had agreed to unite.
As the day carried on, Eadan had guided his new family about the castle, cheerful as if nothing untoward had happened that morning. And, after lunch, at the hour of the consul's execution, he had watched with glazed eyes, salivating as the traitor was thrown from the stocks, only to be decapitated by the guillotine. All had been pleased to see the traitors die, of course. But Eadan's joy went beyond the righteous anger of the crowd, or the stern duty that Silena and Ronan felt. Eadan relished it. He would have done it a thousand times over, each time more enjoyable than the last. Silena was certain of this.
And as for the men who had joined the consul, none had been forgiven. All had been thrown into the dungeons alongside their ringleader. All had been executed shortly after the consul. All their wives, children, and other dependents had been placed into indentured servitude, cleaning and farming the castle. Forgiveness did not even occur to Eadan, and when Ronan suggested it, Eadan laughed, shook his head, and said nothing. He did not have a merciful bone in his body.
But it was comforting to know that such cruelty, such a cold, hard heart was on her side, was opened up, only for her and her Clan. It was a terrifying thing to know that such a cruel man existed, of course. But he was her cruel man. And cruelty was needed. Ronan had always been too swift to forgive, to give the benefit of doubt, to assist and support.
Eadan was the antidote to that. Eadan was the man who could refuse help to an ailing old lady if he believed she was part of a conspiracy. Eadan was the man who could order the execution of every person involved in a plot to kill them. Eadan was the man who could be trusted to handle all affairs where having a heart put you in danger.
And similarly, Ronan was the antidote to Eadan. Ronan was the man who would lend a helping hand to the people who were the lifeblood of the Lairdships. Ronan was the man who could build a community up from nothing. Ronan was the man who added a humane softness to the face of law, giving people comfort and joy.
Ronan walked in, seeing Eadan leaning over his sister, and beamed in a way only Ronan could. "You look lovely today, Silena," he said.
Eadan grumbled a little, kissed Silena's cheek, stood up, and walked to the window, simply nodding a greeting to his brother-in-law.
"Is he alright?" Ronan whispered to his sister.
"I am already with child," Silena confessed to her brother with a warm, content smile. "We shall have a baby before the year ends. He is a little nervous, as I am sure you understand."
Ronan's eyes lit up. "A baby? Such wonderful news! This is precisely what our Clans need. I hope it shall be a strong young boy, and that he shall lead both Lairdships onward."
Silena nodded and smiled.
"Has Eadan mentioned a name yet?" Ronan asked.
Silena shook her head. "Alas, he simply says to wait and ensure that the child is born alive."
Ronan froze. "Why would he say such a thing?"
"Because," Eadan began from the window, reminding them both that he was still present. "Because not all children make it. Not all people make it. I would rather not pin my hopes on anything yet. Although, I am happy."
"You are an odd man," Ronan said. "Your people are not much like us, are they? You are so cruel, so harsh."
"We are shaped by reality," Eadan replied. "You are shaped by illusion."
"But without some sort of illusion, how can you build the future? Every great idea is born of hope, of aspiration," Ronan replied. "You cannot live forever in the present."
"And you cannot live in the future either," Eadan said, turning around with a smirk. "Literally, you cannot."
Silena rested her hand on her brother's. "You are both right, in your own way. We must live in the now, to see what needs to be dealt with. But we must also look ahead, to see how we shall deal with it. Together, you shall do great things."
"Indeed," Ronan agreed. "Like the horse and the hound, we may be very different beasts, but we can also be most excellent partners to one another. And how wonderful that this union is to be cemented by a beautiful child, conceived in love and joy and happiness, to grow up in a world where our Clans are not at war, but deeply entwined?"
As Ronan said this, Silena glanced at Eadan. Eadan grinned, finding some sort of dark humor in this. Truth be told, so did she. If only her brother knew, looking back at the day when her last cycle ended, that this child had been conceived on their first brutal night together, then perhaps, he would not be speaking of the love with which the baby was conceived, perhaps he would be saying something quite different entirely.
Eadan walked back to her and knelt by her side, running his hand over and over her stomach, as though trying to feel for the baby. He would have no luck. It was barely there yet, and would not kick for months. But still, he felt and pressed lightly, curiously.
Silena smiled as he caressed her slightly protruding belly, awe in his eyes as he realized mere inches of skin separated his hand from his child. He smiled. Such a wonderful, warm smile. The one he only reserved for her. But now, he was gifting it to their child as well. It nearly took her breath away, to think of how much Eadan's poor heart had been healed by her love. And, it would be healed even more by this baby. Perhaps, her own heart could heal, too, thanks to this child, and with the soothing balms of time.
Of course, Eadan was a monster and a beast, just as the legends had said. He was cruel, wicked, and full of malice. But he was her monster. And, she loved him despite all he had done.
The End
Stay in touch...
Facebook
Sign up for my newsletter and receive new release information and special offers and get my short story, Deceiving the Laird.
More Scottish Highland Romance Books
Box Sets
Highland Love Collection
Highland Romance Collection
Highland Hearts Collection
More Titles
Highland Secrets
Highland Heartache