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

by Lydia Kendall

  As they came upon the end, she saw the moment Matthew broke out ahead. She tried to run harder, but she was at her limit and the ending was far too close for her to close the gap forming between them.

  In those final moments, the race was decided, the winner pulling ahead to clear their victory. They both came a sliding halt as the winner bellowed, “I won!”

  Chapter 8

  Jonet collapsed to the ground, staring up at the blue sky with her arms spread wide. She was panting.

  “Jonet?” Matthew called, rushing to her side worriedly. “Are ye all right?”

  “All right?” she cried happily. “That was wonderful! I cannae remember when I last had so much fun!”

  Matthew blinked in surprise and then huffed a laugh. He sank down next to her and, after a while, he lied down by her side. “That really was fun. I dinnae think ye would put up such a fight.”

  “I almost had ye,” she panted. “Maybe if the loch was a little closer, I might have won. Or if me legs were a little longer.”

  “I daenae doubt ye,” he laughed.

  Jonet smiled too, feeling happier in that moment than she had in years. She watched a lazy cloud float through the sky as her body calmed, and she remembered who she was with and what she should be doing. She tried to put up the wall between them again, but it was difficult for some reason.

  So, she sat up. “Ye won,” she returned to something more formal. “So ye say ye have questions.”

  “Aye, I do.” Matthew sat up as well. When he did, Jonet was suddenly aware of how close they were. Their upper arms could touch if she only leaned over a few inches and so she kept herself incredibly still, even though she could not look away from him.

  Oh. He’s… sweating.

  It was as attractive as it had been in her imagination. Jonet swallowed harshly. She tried to focus on what he would say next, but it was difficult.

  Matthew seemed unaware of her thoughts, thankfully. He leaned back onto his hands, stretching his long legs out before him.

  “I said three questions, dinnae I? Let’s see then.”

  Jonet tensed. He glanced at her and she prayed he assumed her flushed face was as a result of their race. “Why do ye dislike me so much?”

  She blinked. Jonet had not been expecting such a direct question, but she supposed she should have. Anyone in his position would have wondered the same thing. Yet could she tell him the true reason?

  Being so open with someone she had only just met made her so uncomfortable that she did not know what to do with herself. So, she went as close to the truth as possible. “I daenae dislike ye, Matthew,” she said. “I am only wary of ye.”

  “Why are ye?”

  She lifted a brow. “Is that yer second question?”

  He thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head. “I suppose I can always figure that out later. I daenae want to waste it. This is me next, then. What did I say yesterday during our walk that made ye so upset?”

  That was much easier to answer and she did so without pause. “Ye were far too perfect. Yer words, yer intentions. It sounded so smooth, so… polished. I just couldnae find it within me to believe a word ye were sayin’. I thought ye were only sayin’ what ye needed to woo me so that I could agree to marryin’ ye and, I dinnae like that.”

  Matthew was silent for a moment, staring at her. She mustered the courage to face his stare, her heart skipping a beat when he did not look away. There was something about the way he studied her that made her body do odd things, tensing and growing hot in places that had never done that before.

  “Ye are right about that,” he said after a moment. “I suppose I was a little too nervous and was tryin’ so hard to impress ye that I started overdoin’ things. In the back of me mind, I ken it was too much and yet I couldnae stop meself.”

  “Ye made a proper fool out of yerself,” she stated.

  To her surprise, he barked a laugh. “Aye, I did. Daenae get me wrong, though. I meant every word I said. I do think ye are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on, but I did sound a little much when I was saying it.” He tilted his head over to her, grinning broadly. “Daenae worry. From now on, I will be much more forthright with me compliments.”

  Despite the fact that his words made her heart do a backflip in her chest, she managed to say in a normal tone, “I daenae think ye learned anythin’ from this.”

  “I did, I did,” he chuckled.

  After a moment, she smiled. “And yer last question?”

  Again, Matthew was silent. He seemed to be ruminating on it and she waited patiently, content to simple admire his side profile in the meantime. It was truly unfair how handsome he was because right in that moment, Jonet could hardly manage to keep that wall up between them anymore.

  He turned to her, leaning closer. Jonet gasped silently, her eyes growing wide. He leaned in so near that his lips were just an inch away from hers, his eyes so close that she could see the brown specks swimming within the green. Whatever her heart was doing before it no longer did. It seemed to have stopped dead in her chest, her breath caught in her throat.

  “Me last question,” he whispered, his breath tickling her lips. She could not stop herself from glancing down at it, could not keep from imagining what would happen if she were to lean in just a little closer, “is are ye afraid to love again?”

  She looked back into his eyes. There was heat there, a simmering need that need not be spoken. She saw it as clear as day, shimmering just as strongly within her, but she also saw sincerity, openness. As if he would hold her heart gently in his hands if she ever dared to hand it over. As if he would accept every bit of her—her fears, her past, her curse—without question. As if all he wanted to do was love her wholeheartedly if only she would let herself feel again.

  That was what pulled the answer out of her. “I am afraid of being hurt again.”

  Her answer rested between them. She was tense, waiting to hear his response, afraid of what he might say all of a sudden.

  Matthew’s eyes were on her lips as he murmured his next words, “Ye daenae need to be afraid of that anymore, now that I’m here.”

  It was the sort of response she should have expected from such a man so insistent on marrying her. Such a person would say anything to get what he wanted, she supposed. Still, Jonet wanted to believe him. She wanted to trust him, to let herself love and put her in his hands. She wanted to rely on him. She did not want to be alone anymore and here he was, pledging to protect her.

  With all the force she could muster, Jonet thrusted that wall between them again and scrambled to her feet. The connection was broken, and it bothered her much more than it should have. She could not allow that to go on for a second longer. He would have kissed her, and if he had not, she would have kissed him. Then there would be no turning back for her.

  “I think we should get back,” she brushed her dress off. “Ye got the answers ye wanted, so let’s go.”

  Matthew said nothing as he slowly rose to his feet. Jonet did not look at him. She waited until he was fully standing before she turned to walk back to the horses.

  “Ye cannae be alone forever, Jonet.”

  She went still, not turning around. Jonet heard the crunch of the stones benetah his feet at he drew closer. “Ye need someone by yer side. Let me be the one.”

  Jonet bit her lip. She wanted so badly to turn around, to throw herself into his arms and press her lips against his, that it hurt. She curled her hands into a fist, fighting the urge, not knowing what to say.

  After a while, she heard him again as he came to stand by her side. “I think I overstepped today again,” he offered her a kind smile. “Ye’re right. We should head back.”

  He walked away, towards the horses. It took a moment for Jonet to uproot her feet from the ground.

  The slow ride back to the Castle was made in silence, much like the day before. This silence was heavier, however, and it was clear Jonet was lost in thought. She went on a little ahead
and Matthew was content to simply watch her from behind.

  Somehow, Jonet MacTavish atop a horse was an unearthly vision. It was not the mere fact that she handled herself well and had put up quite a fight during their race. It was how she looked while she charged ahead, with her braid jumping, wearing such a happy smile that brightened her face. The image was perfectly engrained into his mind, though he knew she wore no such smile right now.

  At that moment she was contemplating, and Matthew was nervous as to what. She managed to hide her thoughts well enough for him to wonder if he really might be getting through to her the way he hoped. He had seen the flash of surprise on her face during his last words, the way her mouth popped open and her eyes followed his every move. She certainly had not expected him to say such a thing, he knew, but was that a good thing?

  She wanted me to kiss her. I could tell that much.

  Matthew had seen enough in his lifetime to be able to tell when a woman wished to be kissed. Jonet’s eyes were begging for it, even though she hardly moved an inch. With a pride like hers, he did not expect her to ask for it, but Matthew was more than willing to give her what she wanted. He did not think any man would be able to sit so close to her without the overwhelming urge to taste her lips.

  Why did she pull away? Just what is she thinking?

  Matthew narrowed her eyes at her as the stables grew closer. He was used to playing the long game if needed, but with Jonet, he was feeling a little impatient. He wanted to know how she felt, wanted her to confirm if she truly wanted him gone the way she had expressed. He wanted to know if she even liked him a little.

  The closer the stables came, the more Matthew realized that she would soon leave his side. A wave of disappointment came over him at the thought. He had not expected to enjoy himself so much.

  Georgie was standing by the entrance with his hands on his hips when they arrived. “Miss Jonet! Mr. McDulaigh! How was the race?”

  “Unfortunately, Georgie,” Jonet said while Georgie followed beside her horse. “I lost.”

  “Ye did?” Georgie seemed genuinely shocked at that. He looked at Matthew with wide eyes. “Ye must be very good at riding, Mr. McDulaigh.”

  “Call me Matthew.” He jumped down off Temper and patted the horse lightly in the rump. “And it wasnae all me. This horse truly is quite a beast.”

  “I’m glad ye think so, Matthew,” Georgie said. “I think Laird MacLagain will be happy to hear that the troublemaker horse took such a likin’ to ye.”

  At that, Temper lifted his head and snorted in what appeared annoyance. They all laughed, even Jonet, though her’s died quickly. Matthew watched her from the corner of his eye.

  As if she noticed him, she turned stiffly, in a much more formal manner than before. “Today was fun, Matthew,” she kept her formal countenance. “Thank ye for that.”

  “May I come see ye tomorrow?”

  She blinked, surprised. He had already planned to see her, but he thought it might do him some good to ask first. “I…” She did not seem to know what to say. “I suppose that wouldnae be too bad.”’

  Ah, victory!

  Matthew grinned. “Then I will be by tomorrow. Thank ye for takin’ yer time out to see me, Jonet.”

  A smile flitted across her face, uncertainty in her eyes. She seemed to be battling with something, so Matthew left it at that, watching her nod and walk away without another word. Tomorrow, he hoped she would be more open to his advances.

  “Ye two look good together, Matthew,” Georgie spoke up from behind once Jonet was gone.

  “Ye think so?”

  “Aye, better than the first two, I can say.”

  Matthew looked at him. It occurred to him suddenly that he knew nothing of the first two men she had been betrothed to, other than the fact that one had died suddenly, and the other had mysteriously disappeared. “Did ye ken them?”

  Georgie nodded eagerly, though his eyes were sad. “I dinnae ken the first one well. I only met him once or twice six years ago when I had come to visit me faither at the stables. Me faither used to work here,” Georgie clarified. “But he hurt his leg, so I take care of him now.”

  “I see. What was his name?”

  “Me faither? Ethan Milligan. Miss Jonet’s first betrothed? Murdock Anderson,” Georgie spoke confidently. “I ken that much. He was a nice man. Very friendly to everyone who worked here. He used to rub me hair whenever he saw me, but that wasnae often. It was a sad day when he was found dead in his bed. It was a mystery, that one.”

  “I heard her second betrothed’s death was a mystery too.”

  “Aye, it was. I remember him. His name was Henry Luther and he was a lot different from how Mr. Anderson had been. He could have been a war chieftain if he wasnae goin’ to be the next Laird. But he disappeared one day when he went out to hunt Miss Jonet’s favorite meat. They say he’s dead.” Georgie sighed sadly. “It was almost as sad as the day Mr. Anderson had died. She’d seen him off that day, ye ken. Watched him ride off into the distance and he never came back.”

  Matthew did not expect himself to feel anything at those words. He never expected his chest to pang with pain at the things Georgie was saying. He pictured Jonet’s face the moment she heard of Murdock’s death, and the pain she must have felt when she had to relive that again after Henry disappeared.

  Will the same happen to me?

  He dismissed the thought as soon as it came. It was mere coincidence that had bred into superstition. It would not affect him at all. The only person it afflicted was Jonet, who was clearly so afraid to open up again that she was determined to keep him at arm’s length.

  Matthew looked into the direction of the stable’s entrance; his mind lingered on the way Jonet had walked away, how confused she had seemed. He wished he could have embraced her at the very least. A hug might have been able to make her feel a little better.

  It took him a moment to realize what that meant. He had come to the Castle in order to secure a better life for himself, but now… he wondered if he was beginning to develop true feelings for her.

  Chapter 9

  Jonet went to bed with a troubled mind. Since the moment she had left Matthew’s side, she could not remove him from her mind. She could not stop thinking about the things he had said to her, how he had told her that he wanted to be the one by her side so that she was no longer alone.

  Never in a thousand years did Jonet believe she would have heard such things from his mouth and if so, her heart softening in response to it was even less likely. Yet here she was, bothered by the words to the point that she kept tossing and turning, with sleep evading her.

  She did not know when she fell asleep, but when she awoke, the sun was already high in the sky and Freya was poking around her bedroom, cleaning up areas that appeared not to need cleaning. Freya had not realized she was awake yet, so Jonet simply watched her, listening to her mumble under her breath.

  No matter how hard she tried to strain her ears, Jonet could not decipher what she was saying, but she seemed a little agitated, a slight frown on her usually vacant face.

  After a while, Jonet could no longer hold her silence. “Are ye worried about something, Freya?” she called.

  The sound of her voice frightened her enough to make her jump and clutch her chest with a gasp. “Mis Jonet! Ye’re awake!”

  Jonet sat up, her heavy black hair falling down around her shoulders. “Aye, and I couldnae possibly go back to sleep with ye mumblin’ under yer breath like that. What’s botherin’ ye?”

  “Nothing at all.” Whatever frown she had been wearing before was instantly wiped away and Freya clasped her hands before her, regarding Jonet evenly. “Did ye have a good rest, Miss Jonet?”

  Jonet lifted a brow. “Did ye really just try to change the subject?”

  “Because it is nothin’.”

  “It doesnae seem so,” Jonet pressed.

  Yet Freya was unmoved by her persistence, merely cocking her head to the side and saying, “Ye seemed
to have had a fitful sleep, Miss Jonet.”

  Jonet chuckled. “All right, fine. Ye win this one. But I promise ye, Freya, ye will open up to me one day. I cannae be the one tellin’ ye everythin’ about me life and ye tell me nothin’.”

  Freya was unbothered by Jonet’s attempts to guilt her. “Ye neednae tell me anythin’, Miss Jonet.”