Highlander's Trials of Fire: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel

by Lydia Kendall

  “Aye, that’s what I said.” He was beaming. Jonet blinked. He was rather handsome, now that she was giving him a good look. “Ye daenae think so?”

  “Watch it, Jon,” Dougal cut in, his voice rumbling with rising laughter. “Ye ken how fiery her temper can get. Ye best watch what ye say.”

  “I’m nae afraid.” Jon declared boldly.

  “Maybe ye should be,” Jonet responded, blinking innocently.

  Dougal tipped his head back and laughed loudly. It forced a chuckle out of Jonet and Jonathan, and the latter regarded her with glittering eyes.

  “Ye always ken how to make me laugh, Jonet,” Dougal said. He rested a heavy, hairy hand on her shoulder. “Just like ye mother.”

  “Well, since she cannae leave her bed, she’s charged me with the duty of bringing laughter to the hallways,” Jonet replied.

  “Ye’ve done a good job of it,” Jonathan smiled.

  “Aye, that she has,” Dougal agreed. “All right, we best be off. We’ve stood around talkin’ long enough now.”

  “Where are ye headin’?” Jonet inquired, eyes darting from Dougal, to Jonathan, then back.

  It was Jonathan who responded, a little more eager than she had expected. It surprised her a little. “To hunt. Ye are welcome to come if ye wish.”

  The moment the words were out of his mouth, Dougal smacked him in the back of his head. “Daenae go puttin’ thoughts into her head. Ye ken she will want to take ye up on it.”

  Jonet chuckled. “Ye daenae need to worry about me. I have nay wish to follow ye huntin’. Faither will have me head if I even dare to. And Maither will only wear herself out tryin’ to smack me if she ever finds out.”

  “Ah, the Laird will certainly have me hide too,” Jonathan mused aloud, rubbing the back of his head.

  “Glad ye’re understandin’,” Dougal said. “Now, let’s be off. Ye take care now, Jonet.”

  “Aye Uncle Dougal.” Though she did not have to in the wide hallway, she stepped to the side and watched them pass. For a few moments, she stared after them. Jonathan turned, looking back at her and she offered him a smile and a wave, to which he returned eagerly.

  She turned away and continued to her room where she found Freya, tidying up her bed.

  Freya turned to her as soon as she entered, her shoulders stiff and her chin lifted. Jonet sighed. She was in no mood for Freya’s formalities.

  “Ye rose early, Miss Jonet,” Freya said.

  “I ken. I had a bad dream.”

  Freya blinked at that, her brows dipping into a slight frown. “Is it the same as the ones ye’ve had before?”

  “Aye,” Jonet nodded tiredly. She sat on her bed and watched as Freya went to fetch her dress. “I daenae think I will be able to escape them any time soon. Christal gave me some auld man’s milk, though, and helped cheer me up.”

  “I see.”

  Jonet did not comment about Freya’s lackluster response. Whenever she mentioned the past, or dreams of the past, Freya would become like this. Jonet supposed it was because she simply did not know how to help Jonet with it, since Freya did not have a natural talent for giving comfort. Or perhaps Freya thought Jonet did not want to talk about it. Whatever the reason was, Jonet did not bother to ask.

  She was content to dress in silence. Perhaps later she would be in good enough a mood to seek Freya out during her duties to bother her. She had always taken joy in that, in watching Freya’s cheeks grow pink and her valiant attempts to fight off Jonet’s constant waves of teasing.

  Once Freya was done with her hair, braiding it over her shoulder, there came a knock on the door. Freya went to answer it and there was a young maid standing at the door.

  “I’m sorry for the intrusion, Miss Jonet,” said the maid. “But ye have a visitor.”

  “A visitor?” Jonet echoed with a frown and then it dawned on her. “Does it happen to be a tall man with blond hair?”

  The maid nodded.

  “He says his name is Matthew McDulaigh and he wishes to meet with ye.”

  Jonet heaved a great sigh. She knew this would happen and as she promised herself, she would not let it go any further than it already had.

  Chapter 6

  The Laird’s Castle was always a sight to behold and Matthew thought he could spend hours traversing the hallways. From the outside, it appeared to cut straight into the sky, and he wondered how many staircases he would be able to ascend before his legs grew tired. The excitement he felt from that thought alone only drove his fervor, determined to see this plan through to a successful end.

  That thought was why he would not allow yesterday’s unfortunate encounter with the Laird’s daughter to hinder him. Granted, he had not been expecting such a response. Matthew was not used to women reacting so… adversely. They usually fell so easily for him that his previous cons would pass quite easily. Easily enough for him to grow a little bored.

  Jonet MacTavish will prove to be quite interesting at least.

  Matthew would not complain. He had always liked a challenge.

  He shot out of his chair from a bout of sudden excited energy. The guard had taken him to a sitting room to wait for Jonet, but he could no longer sit still. He paced the wide room, drinking in what would soon be his. What he would be able to call his own once he had cast aside his terrible old life.

  “Ye seem quite excited.”

  Matthew’s heart jumped at the sudden voice, yet he did not whirl round to face it right away. He continued studying the intricate carvings on the mantle above the fireplace before he turned to face Jonet. She was standing by the threshold, regarding him steadily.

  The response he had ready on the tip of his tongue dissolved the moment he saw her. She wore a green dress, the color of grass, with a dark shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her thick, black hair was braided over her one shoulder, with curls framing her face. Matthew wondered if he would ever grow used to her beauty, one that was strong enough to knock sensible thoughts from his head.

  He quickly tried to bring himself together when he realized she was waiting for him to answer. “Excited to see ye, Miss Jonet? Because I am.”

  “There is nay need for the formalities,” Jonet ventured further into the room. “Ye may call me Jonet.”

  Matthew’s brows rose. He had to admit—he never expected her to be so… composed. He had expected an insecure woman who would jump to be with the first man who looked her way, considering all that was being talked of about her.

  “I hope that means ye arenae so opposed to me as ye first were.”

  “Nay,” she spoke simply, shaking her head. “It is only because I would prefer to refer to ye as Matthew and thought it would be fair. It doesnae mean I am any more welcoming of ye as before, though I am flattered by yer proposal.”

  Matthew chuckled.

  Aye, a tough one she is.

  “Ye daenae sound very flattered at all, Jonet.”

  “Does that offend ye?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.

  Matthew could not stop himself from admiring the slender curve of her neck before he met her brown eyes. “Nae at all. If anythin’, I’m even more excited to get to ken ye.”

  “I wonder why,” she held a soft musing tone before walking off to settle into a cushioned armchair. Slightly intrigued, Matthew chose to sit in the chair he had vacated before.

  “Are ye nae pleased that I am here?” he asked.

  “Why would ye ask that?” she responded. She sounded slightly sarcastic. “After all I’ve said when ye first came here, I cannae imagine why ye think I am nae happy to see ye.”

  Matthew chuckled. “Ye havenae even asked why I am here.”

  She blinked at that. Then nodded. “Fair enough. Why are ye here, Matthew?”

  “I wish to go for a walk with ye.”

  Matthew took a lot of pleasure out of watching her eyes grow wide as she frowned in confusion. “That doesnae sound any different from what I was thinkin’.”

  “Well, it wouldnae do w
ell for me to come all the way here only to be turned away without puttin’ up a bit of a fight, would it?”

  “I am afraid ye are only wastin’ yer breath—”

  “One hour,” he made sure not to sound desperate. Instead he affected that sweet, cajoling smile he had often given to the toughest of his con victims. Her frown deepened and Matthew told himself that it had to be because it was working. “That is all I ask for. Surely, ye have one hour to spare for little auld me.”

  She stared at him. Studied him—openly and with such heavy judgment that he could not decipher her very well. Matthew felt as if his life hung in the balance while she drank him in, and he desperately wished he had the ability to read minds. With such a talent, maybe then it would be easier to deal with her.

  When she nodded, Matthew’s heart sang with relief. “All right. One hour. That’s all ye’ll get.”

  “That is all I need,” he grinned.

  They both rose at the same time. Jonet turned and made her way out of the room without waiting for him. He did not mind, happy as he was to have overcome that small obstacle. He could not understand why she was so opposed to him, but he was as focused as ever to break through that barrier to reach the tender woman underneath. From his experience, the harder the exterior, the softer the inside.

  He walked by her side as they made their way out of the castle. He glanced at her a few times, wanting her to notice that he was. To make her wonder if he were so enamored with her that he simply could not take his eyes away. It was not very far from the truth. Her beauty was unlike anything he had seen before, and he was happy that when he would take the Lairdship as his own, he would at least have a wife he would enjoy looking at.

  “Ye say that is all ye need,” she said once they were walking into the open expanse of land stretched out before the Castle. It broke the silence that had fallen over them. Matthew was happy she did, so he did not have to. “What did ye mean by that?”

  “Exactly what I said, Jonet,” he replied. “I can tell that ye do nae like me very much and I am hopin’ that this walk will allow ye to get to ken me.”

  “What is there to ken?” she asked. “Ye are a wealthy merchant who wishes to marry me because of what ye heard in the village. What else would I need to ken?”

  Matthew wasted no time listing things off. “What I like and dislike. Me hopes and aspirations. Me favorite meal. Me favorite time of day. Me favorite things to do. There are a whole host of things, ye ken.”

  Jonet huffed a laugh, but Matthew knew it was not in his favor. “I daenae mean to be rude, Matthew, but if we will nae be married then I ken nay reason to ken such things.”

  “Truly? Nae even the things I like to do when I wake in the mornings?”

  “Least of all that.”

  “Oh, I daenae. I think ye will hate to ken what me favorite song is.”

  Jonet looked up at him, her eyes glittering with slight curiosity.

  Or is that confusion?

  “Ye are quite persistent, ye ken,” she told him.

  “I could say the same of ye,” Matthew challanged. A soft wind tussled his hair. It stung Jonet’s eyes and she cringed slightly away from it. “Though it only makes me more eager to ken more about ye. There is somethin’ I’m really curious about.”

  Jonet sighed. She sounded slightly defeated when she asked, “What would ye like to ken?”

  Matthew paused. He could sense that she was a little tense, on edge about what he wanted to know. He let a few seconds go by before he said, “What are yer favorite things to eat?”

  Jonet stopped walking. Matthew slowed to a stop and faced her, blinking in fake surprise.

  “Is somethin’ the matter?”

  She frowned deeply at him. Again, she was studying him, as if she were trying to find the lie in his words. “That is all ye wish to ask me? Nothin’ else?”

  “Is there somethin’ ye were expectin’?”

  She looked both confused and annoyed, but she took a deep breath and shook her head. “Nothin’. And if ye must ken, me favorite things to eat are sweet cakes.”

  “Ah, I see. Do ye ken how to make them?”

  When he glanced at her, he saw a blush stain her cheek. “Of course!”

  “That sounds like a nay.”

  “That’s nae what I said!” she insisted. “I’ve made them many times before.”

  “And are they good?”

  Her blush deepened. Matthew almost let out a genuine laugh. She was very adorable when she was trying to convince him through what was clearly a lie. “I… well… that is subjective, isnae it?”

  “Ah, very true ye are. I suppose I have nay choice but to try them meself then.”

  “I never said that—”

  “Aye, ye dinnae, but how could ye nae? I want to try them meself since I ken yer sweet cakes are truly as good as ye think they are.”

  “Ye can just take me word for it,” she lifted her chin.

  Matthew almost sighed. Getting through to her was proving more difficult than he had expected it to be. He fell silent, racking his brain for another conversation starter to make up for the huge failure that the conversation had turned into when she mumbled something under her breath.

  “Excuse me?” he asked.

  She glanced at him and then quickly looked to the side. Again, her cheeks went pink. “I suppose I can make ye some,” she murmured. “If ye are so insistent.”

  Well, then. I see she isnae as cold as she pretends to be.

  They had walked quite some distance by now. He did not know where they were headed, since he had no knowledge of the area around the Laird’s Castle, but she walked along with confidence, clearly leading the way. She was barefooted, at ease in her surroundings. With the very slight tan on her skin, Matthew would not be surprised to learn that she spent more of her time outdoors than in.

  “There is something I want to ken, Matthew,” she spoke suddenly. Her serious tone had him straightening.

  “What’s that?”

  “Ye say ye came to me faither because ye heard of me beauty. Is that all ye heard?”

  Ah, she is talking about her curse.

  He tossed the idea of revealing what he had learned back and forth in his mind. He finally settled on telling her what he could, since it was apparent that she suspected he knew anyway. “I did hear more. But I daenae ken if I should tell ye.”

  “Clearly if ye say that, ye will have nay choice now.”

  He chuckled. “I suppose ye’re right. Well… it is rumored that ye have a curse, Jonet.”

  She did not react to that the words. Nothing but a barely audible sigh. “And ye came here even though ye kent that?”

  “Aye, I couldnae resist. To be honest, Jonet, as a merchant, I’ve grown accustomed to beautiful things. I couldnae resist comin’ to see ye when I heard of ye and now that I ken ye, I daenae think I can just walk away.”

  “I see. That is very… kind of ye.”

  Her obvious surprise at his words was taken as a good sign. Matthew went on without thinking, spurred on by how well it appeared to be going. “Could ye blame me? Ye grace is kent beyond the Highlands. I’ve traveled far and wide durin’ me trade and I have never met anyone with such lovely features, such a heavenly voice and—”

  Jonet stopped and turned to him. Her face was utterly serious, and Matthew instantly knew he had done something wrong, though he was not aware what that was.

  “Ye have such a silver-tongue, Matthew. Is that because ye are a merchant?”

  For once, Matthew did not know what to say. “I daenae—”

  “Forgive me, but I think we should cut this short. I’m sorry I couldnae give ye the hour ye were hopin’ for.”

  He had done or said something that had completely ruined what little progress he had been making. He wanted to fight it, to convince her to allow them to continue their stroll, but there was something in her eyes that made him cave.

  “As ye wish, Jonet. Let me walk with ye back to the Castle.” />
  She said nothing, but offered a nod. As they started back the way they came, he ran their conversation through his mind, but no matter how much he thought about it, Matthew could not find the exact moment where things had gone wrong. Perhaps it was the mere mention of the rumor. It made sense that it would upset her mood, but why did it feel like it was his fault when she was the one who had brought it up in the first place?

  The walk back felt much shorter and when they had made it up to the tall wooden doors of the Castle, she turned to face him. It was out of politeness, he knew, but Matthew clung to the slim chance just to say, “It was a pleasure, Jonet.”