~ ♥ ~
Ella had spent her morning exercising her ankle, by pacing the floor, when she was interrupted by a rude and overbearing woman who lectured her about properly healing. Frustrated with the woman’s constant nagging, Ella picked up the oatcake she offered and hurled it at her hoping she would understand the gesture and leave. Ella was not one to take orders. She gave them.
“Tis fer yer own protection,” were the last words the maid spoke before exiting the room.
Ella clenched her teeth as the maid left. My protection, she says! The only protection she needed was from Laird Graham, who was keeping her prisoner. Ella stared daggers at the door as if she had the power to blast right through it. Rising from the chair, she stood tall. She was going to find Laird Graham and give him a piece of her mind. She didn’t need the ability to speak to get her feelings across about how she felt. She would use blunt force if she had to.
As Ella neared the door, she was suddenly knocked off balance when she smacked right into a man’s hard chest, covered in soft leather. She noticed clean linen sleeves covered his arms, when with quick movements; he pulled her into him, preventing her from falling. With deliberation, her eyes bore into his. Pushing herself out of his hold, she adjusted her dress, wiped her cheek, and straightened her neckline. If there were an object in her reach that had not been bolted down, she would have grabbed onto it and hit him over the head with it, but against her luck no such object existed. Ella glanced up at the ignorant Laird with anger in her eyes.
His tousled red hair glistened in the light of the sun that shone through the window at the top of the stairwell. His chest fell with each breath, as if he had just finished running up twenty flights of stairs.
Ella did not know why, but there was something about him that riled her nerves. She felt something, but could not explain it nor could she tell if it was a positive emotion she felt or negative one. She’d felt it before, when he first brought her here. It was almost as if she knew him like they had some kind of connection. As she looked into his eyes, her thoughts seemed to ask a thousand questions all at once. How do I know ye? Ella searched his eyes for answers, but nothing indicated a response. Ella squirmed uncomfortably as he studied her.
The lass continued to stare at him, with an emotionless expression on her face. It made it difficult to judge whether she understood what he was saying. The way she looked at him, though, was as if she knew him. The funny thing was, he felt the exact same way.
“Lassie, I dinna mean to be hard on ye. I know that ye have been through a great ordeal, and I am sure ye must be frightened, but ye are safe here. Nay one will harm ye. I promise, once the weather warms I will be happy to take ye home.”
Violently, the lass shook her head. Galen thought perhaps home was where she had run away from. Mayhap going home was not what the lass had in mind.
“Lass, did ye run away from yer family, a husband, perhaps? I only ask because I need to know if I should be expecting some angry husband at my door demanding yer return.”
The lass shook her head again. Finally they were getting somewhere. After asking several more questions, he discovered that the lass was not married and not from the Highlands. That left him with two remaining options: she was either a stowaway and arrived here by boat, or she was English. Still, it left him with many questions. He had to find a way to make her feel safe and to determine who she was. To do that, he would have to spend time with her. He decided to skip his plan to go to the market today and spend the remainder of the afternoon here with her.
“I am no’ a mon of great conversation. I do no’ talk about myself, other than what people need to know, and it is no’ up for discussion either. As ye can no’ speak, that rules out any form of conversation as to who ye are and where ye hail from, which makes for a verra dull afternoon.”
Galen uncomfortably looked around the room as he noticed the lass taking interest in the platter of food. She had not eaten the meal brought to her this morning, and he had hoped that she would feel comfortable enough around him to eat.
The awkward silence was as unnerving as taking a dip in ice-cold water. Galen desperately searched for something quick-witted and clever to say, but nothing came to mind. Just beyond the far end of the wall, Galen noticed an old wooden bookcase in desperate need of repair. Behind a cluster of cobwebs, he noticed three books standing on end on top of a broken shelf.
“Do ye know how to read?” he asked, breaking the silence.
The lass shrugged her shoulders. Galen took that as a yes, but perhaps she did not read very well. Pushing himself up from the chair, he made his way across the room and picked up the three books, blowing the dust off their pages.
The first book was a ledger of the estate accounts of Ashbury written in his uncle’s handwriting; useless information written decades ago. Flipping through the pages of the second book, it appeared to have been written by a Spanish monk. The pages spoke of Christianity and prayer. Not the most appropriate read unless he was back at the priory. The third book, however, caught his eye. The cover was stained and the words faded. It read: Water of Life. He remembered the story well. It was a mythical legend of a man who fell in love with a selkie.
Placing the other two books back onto the shelf, Galen returned to the chair next to the bed. The lass’s eyes followed him. As he passed by the bed, he noticed the lass firmly holding onto a small black satchel that was resting on her lap. The fierce way she held it told him that it must be of some great importance to her. If he could find a way to acquire it, perhaps that would answer this mystery. Galen sat back in the chair and held the book up in the air.
“Perhaps a story?” he suggested, to help pass the time.
Galen opened the first page and began reading the opening line.
“The songbird beauty called me to the sea…”
Lying in bed, Ella tentatively listened to every word. His brogue and the elegant language he spoke enhanced the character portrayed in the story. He had a way of speaking that made her feel the emotions of the characters. By the time he was half way through the story, she had found herself creeping toward the edge of the bed wanting more. ‘Twas a love story like no other, and Ella inwardly smiled, feeling the passion and love between the two characters.
Before Ella knew it, the sun had long set and the story ended all too soon. Noticing that Galen had stopped reading in the middle of the book, she eyed him curiously. Why did he stop? What happened next?
Galen placed the book down upon the bedside table and glanced in her direction. His gaze was impassive and hard to read.
“I will continue the story tomorrow. It is getting late,” he said as he stood and left the room.
Once the door closed, Ella adjusted herself on the bed and looked back at the book. Though she could barely read the human language she was familiar with a few basic words. Picking up the book she began flipping through the pages. Trying to remember the words Galen spoke, she tried to sound out the letters for the words that were not familiar.
As Galen closed the door behind him, he thought back over how the lass inched closer toward him as he read nor could he have missed the entertained look upon her face. He had baited her like a fish. He could see his plan already working. He may not have learned much but it was a start. Tomorrow he would try again.
~ Chapter 12 ~
Galen woke early to visit the lass before making his trip to the market. As he had hoped, the lass was beginning to respond to him. He had asked several more questions, but tried to be less invasive. Each time, he shared a little something more about himself. As he had done the night before, he only read a few chapters, leaving her wanting more.
The journey to Stonehaven was uneventful at best but most profitable. He managed to obtain several more weapons, spices for Moira, and new linens and fabrics for Jenny. Stonehaven was several hours north, and the journey took up most of his day. But it was necessary.
He had hoped to return to check on the lass before nightfall. Now
that her ankle was practically healed and she was no longer confined to the bed, he had hoped she would join him tomorrow in the great hall for supper.
As soon as he returned and the supplies were taken care of, he finished his duties and went to check in on the lass. On his way to her room, he bumped his arm against a nail sticking out from the wall. The nail head dug deep across his skin, leaving a long gouge along his forearm. Using the end of his tunic, he wiped the blood clean and knocked on the door.
Stepping inside the room, he found the lass sitting in the chair near a roaring fire. The warmth of the room felt like a hot summer’s night. The lass looked at him awkwardly until he noticed that blood had dripped down his arm and begun dripping onto the floor, creating a small puddle beneath him.
“Awe, dinna mind that, Lassie. ‘Tis only a wee scratch.”
The lass stood and reached for his hand, dragging him to the chair. Galen sat as she began digging through the bag Evelyn had given her. Moments later, she kneeled down in front of him with a handful of bandages scrunched in her hand. Grabbing his arm, she dipped one of the bandages in the basin of water and cleaned the wound. Her touch was as gentle as a whisper, the softness of her fingers like daisy petals.
The lass tightly wrapped the bandage around his arm, securing it with a double knot. Once finished, she raised her head and looked at him. For the first time, he saw a side of her he had not thought was possible. She suddenly went from being the lioness to the innocent lamb. From behind the façade she used to mask her fear, she was beginning to come out of her shell.
“Thank ye,” he said.
The lass smirked. Her smile made her even more beautiful. Nervously, she stood and sat back down on the bed, keeping her distance. Galen found himself not wanting her to run away from him.
Ella sat back down on the bed. When she’d seen the blood dripping down his arm she feared he was severely injured. When he claimed it was a mere scratch, she knew better. Over the past two days, he had visited her several times throughout the day. Her feelings toward him were changing from utter irritation to respect. She started to find herself anxious for his visits, but convinced herself it was only because she wanted to hear more of the story. With only a few more pages left to read, she wondered if he would continue his daily visits.
As night was already upon them, Galen wished her goodnight and excused himself.
~ ♥ ~
Eager to spend his morning meal with the lassie to see how she fared, Galen grabbed a tray of food, enough for the both of them, and headed up to the tower room. He was starting to enjoy their quiet visits. On his way, he instructed his men to send up a tub and several buckets of hot water for his guest. It would be a kind gesture, and one that would ensure her trust in him.
Reaching the top step in front of the door, he softly knocked and waited, though it was foolish to think the mute lass would openly respond. Turning the iron handle, he pushed the door open and stepped into the room to find the lass was still sleeping.
Quietly, he lightly tiptoed to the side of the bed to place her tray onto the table. Not wanting to wake her, he began to turn and head back out the door until something caught his attention. Turning back to take a look, he noticed the lass’s brown leather satchel resting upon the floor. He couldn’t help but notice yesterday how she had clutched it in her hand.
Galen looked back at the lass, making sure he had not awakened her. When he was sure that she remained fast sleep, he bent down and picked up the bag. The lass was a mystery he wanted to solve, and perhaps this bag contained the answer. This satchel became the focus of his curiosity. What if this purse contained more than mere coins? What if it contained a hidden clan medallion or sacred jewels? Both would give him some idea, some inclination as to who she was.
Unraveling the straps, Galen emptied its contents out onto the palm of his hand. Six small unpolished grey stones with deep etched markings fell into his hand. These were not coins at all. There was no mistaking it; they were runes. It was evident that these reading stones were ancient from their worn appearance, and surface scratches made the images depicted on each one hard to see. Glancing back at the lass, Galen would not have guessed that she was a Seer.
These stones were just another puzzling clue. Galen placed the stones back into the bag and secured the straps so they looked as they had when he had found it. Gently, he placed the satchel onto the bed next to her hand. As he headed for the door, he heard the lass stirring in the bed behind him.
Turning around, he saw Ella sitting up in the bed smiling at him.
“Good morning, Lassie. I did no’ mean to wake ye. I was just checking on ye and wanted to see if ye were ready fer a bite to eat.”
The lass nodded her head.
“I have also asked for a tub to be brought up here. The warm water should be a great comfort,” Galen said, hoping to make her smile.
Sitting in the chair near the bed, Galen picked up the book and continued the story where he’d left off. Once he finished the story, he glanced up at the lass. Her eyes widened, and he could swear he saw a half smile. It warmed his heart to see the lass so content. Her transformation was exciting to see. More than anything Galen wanted to learn more about her, but the speech barrier stood in his way.
As Galen looked at her, Ella could see his hardened wall coming down. From the moment they’d met, she had only seen him restrained and domineering, but now he seemed much more relaxed. He spoke of the castle’s history and that of his clan, but kept himself a secret, never speaking of his past or his future. She wondered why he kept his life so private. Perhaps he had a dark past or had experienced something tragic, and talking about the memory was too much to bear.
Over the past few days, she had spent more time with him than anyone in her whole life. She found herself beginning to care about what he thought of her. From the time she woke up, she eagerly waited for him to return and regale her with more stories about himself and his clan. Her view of humans slowly started to change. Little by little, she began to realize that they were not the savages she had always thought them to be. Galen had been patient and very kind. With him, she was not afraid. He made her feel comfortable and safe.
Shortly after, a few men entered the room with a large wooden tub and six large buckets of hot, steaming water. They poured the water into the tub and laid out a towel. Steam from the water rose in the air. Ella inwardly smiled, not wanting to show too much excitement. The large men finished preparing the bath and left.
“Now that the lads have brought ye in a bath, will ye be needing anything else?” he asked, searching her eyes for an answer.
The lass shook her head.
“If ye are up to leaving this room, I would verra much like ye to join me fer dinner.”
Standing stoically in a docile fashion, she nodded her head in acceptance.
“Well, I will leave ye to bathe,” he said as she looked between him and the tub. Without warning, the lass yanked at her dress. In a blink of an eye, the dress pooled to her waistline then dropped down to the floor. Galen’s eyes widened with embarrassment.
He shied away, quickly diverting his eyes, looking anywhere but at the naked lass standing in front of him. Raising his hand to the nape of his neck, he rubbed his tense muscles as he was left speechless. He had not expected that to happen.
In just one glance, his eyes had taken in more details than if he had stared at a painting for an entire lifetime. How could he have not noticed her creamy-looking skin, the slender curve of her hips or her well-rounded, ample breasts? How would he ever get this image out of his head? Bloody hell!
Without looking at her, he managed to stutter out, “Lass, I would be more than happy to send up one of the maids to assist ye.”
In the corner of his eye he saw movement. Watching her shadow on the wall, he could see that she moved from the middle of the room nearer to the tub. He heard the sound of water splashing onto the floor as she stepped in and sat down. Once he was certain she was fully submerg
ed, he took a chance and glanced back. Her green eyes somehow glistened in the candlelight. The tips of her long hair floated above the water like seaweed as it clung to her chest. Galen was more than mesmerized. He was downright bewitched. Why the hell am I still standing here like a bloody fool?
“I will see ye this evening,” he said, as he hurried himself out the door.
Ella chuckled at Galen’s odd behavior. Had he never seen a woman’s body before? She found it quite amusing how he stumbled all over himself. There was much amusement watching a man so strong and stern stammer like an idiot. Perhaps he had a weakness after all. If only she could use that weakness to her advantage.
Ella felt herself melting down deeper into the tub. The warm water worked in an instant, relaxing her muscles and calming her senses. She had felt nervous about joining him for dinner. But she did not want to pass up the opportunity to spend more time with him. He invaded her thoughts from morning to night and every moment in between. From the way he looked at her, to how he made her feel, she felt a fire within her whenever he was near. A fire she desired, just as a moth was attracted to a flame.
Ella lay in the tub until the water had long cooled. She stood, and with the towel wrapped around her, she moved next to the fire to dry herself. The soft warm glow was as comforting as a soft blanket safely wrapped around her keeping her warm and protected. As she brushed her hair the natural curls began to twine around each other as they lay across her shoulders and spiraled down her back. Next to the chair, Ella noticed the bag Evelyn had provided. Unlacing the ribbon that held it closed, she pulled out the deep blue gown to wear.
~ Chapter 13 ~
Legend of the Fae: A Highland Fantasy (The Dark Fae Saga Book 1) Page 8