“Let me go, ye are hurting me,” Gisela said with a grimace, as his fingers digging into her skin did indeed hurt. “Release me at once.”
Caylen did the opposite and shook her so hard, her head bobbed back and forth. “Ye are not to ever speak to me in that manner.”
When he tightened his grip even more, her mother came to her side. “The lass is willful, but no need to mistreat her. I will set her straight.”
Taking advantage of the distraction, Gisela kneed him in the groin. When he yelped and released her, she slapped him across the face. “How dare ye,” she screamed.
In that instant, the realization of what she’d just done sunk in and she stumbled backwards, aware that unlike when they were children, she could not strike a laird’s son. The consequences of her actions could be dire.
“I-I did not mean…” Gisela wanted to curse when her back touched a wall. The only escape would be to run back through the great room. But for that, she’d have to get past a red-faced, groaning Caylen.
His face contorted, nostrils flared and lips curled. The man was furious and he was about to take out every single ounce of it on Gisela.
“What have ye done?” her mother whispered. “Oh, Gisela.”
Refusing to back down, Gisela met Caylen’s gaze. “I should not have hit ye, but ye should not have hurt me.”
“This will not end well for ye,” Caylen replied, his face twisted in pain and anger. “I do not wish a shrew like ye for a wife. However, ye will be punished for this.”
He motioned a guard over. “Take her to my father’s study immediately.”
The guard didn’t touch her. Instead, he motioned to a corridor on the opposite side of the room.
Caylen turned on his heel and hurried ahead of them.
“This is not good,” her mother walked alongside stating the obvious. “Not good at all.”
Just then, Lady Munro called out. “Where are ye going?” She had appeared from a side corridor and caught up to them. Her curious gaze moved from Gisela to the guard. “What is happening?”
“She struck yer son Lady Munro,” the guard replied, giving Gisela a light push at the center of her back. “We go to speak to the laird now.”
Lady Munro’s eyebrows rose. “What did he do?”
“Who?” Gisela, her mother and the guard asked at once.
“Caylen, of course,” Lady Munro said.
“He was most cruel with her,” her mother replied, dabbing at invisible tears. “Her shoulders and arms will be bruised horribly.”
Lady Munro looked to Gisela in question.
She let out a long breath. “He became angry when I told him we cannot marry because we are cousins. When I lifted my voice to ensure he listened, he took me by the shoulders and shook me.”
Gisela suppressed the flicker of hope in her chest.
If by some miracle Lady Munro took her side over Caylen’s, nothing would happen to her. “Then he squeezed my shoulders until I was to the point of crying, so I kicked him.”
“This is ridiculous. We do not have time for petty grievances between cousins. My eldest is about to marry.” Lady Munro lifted her skirts. “Come along, we will make this right.”
The four of them, including the guard walked into the laird’s office where Caylen stood drinking from a cup, a petulant look on his face. Gisela winced upon seeing the red mark from the slap across his left cheek.
“Husband, we do not have time for squabbles between these two. There are much more important matters to take yer attention,” Lady Munro began.
“Did ye know Caylen asked to marry Gisela?” the laird asked, not seeming at all put off by the idea.
“I do not wish to marry her any longer,” Caylen said. “She is a wildling without proper manners.”
Lady Munro looked to her son. “If ye wish to marry, then court the girl, although I must point out that she is quite put off with ye at the moment. Ye are family, so that may bring some consideration.”
Crossing the room, Lady Munro fixed her son with a direct look. “Ye will not do anything to distract from the marriage ceremony. Do ye hear me? We shall wait to speak of this until after the wedding.”
Gisela wanted to scream that she’d prefer death to marrying the idiot.
Immediately, memories of Kieran’s kiss resurface and she pushed them away. Men only caused problems.
“I need fresh air,” Gisela turned and left the study, her mother walking alongside.
“Ye are fortunate the Munro is family. Otherwise, the consequences of what ye did could have been horrible.” Just then, her mother leaned forward and studied her face. “What happened to yer lips?”
Chapter Five
Guiding a horse with one arm had become second nature to Ian McElroy. As head guard for Ross Clan, he was proud of himself and the progress he’d made since the battle in which he’d been left with life-threatening injuries that included the loss of most of his left arm.
At the moment, Ian sat atop his horse, his gaze directly on the horizon. It was a clear day and he could see for quite a distance. There were tall trees on one side and on the opposite side were open fields, plush with green vegetation and flowers. The last portion of the travel should be without trouble as it would be impossible for anyone to approach without being seen.
In the last few months, he’d traveled constantly, rarely spending more than a few days at Ross Keep where he lived. Every day since a bloody battle in which he was left for dead, he was thankful to have survived and even more so for being allowed to remain as guard.
Ian was part of the entourage escorting Lady Ross and her daughter to the wedding at Munro Keep. While he waited for the rest of the guards to mount so they could set off for their second day of travel to Munro lands, a restlessness returned.
Having lost his left arm just above the elbow, he handled the reins with his right hand and guided the horse to the carriage where Lady Ross and her daughter, Verity, were.
“Are ye prepared, ladies?” he asked, not looking in. Both women had complained nonstop since the beginning of the trip and he preferred not to see pointed looks to his severed arm.
“Would ye be able to defend us at all?” Verity Ross had asked the day before.
Her mother had shaken her head, adding, “Sometimes I wonder at Malcolm’s decision to keep ye on as guard.”
He’d ignored them and now that they’d be gone to live elsewhere, he wasn’t unhappy to see them go.
“No, we are not prepared to travel more, but what choice do we have?” Verity replied to his question. “This is the most uncomfortable choice of routes.”
Tristan came up beside him and gave him a resigned look. “Mother, Sister, we will arrive by midday if we leave now.”
The women didn’t respond and Ian followed Tristan to the front. “I will ride a bit ahead. We are traveling along McLeod lands.”
Tristan nodded. “Aye, not too far from where we were attacked when returning from Mackenzie lands.”
As the day progressed, Ian rode in front of the party with another guard. Time passed slowly, but it was pleasant enough.
As they neared Munro Keep, his thoughts went back to Ross Keep and he wondered how long they’d remain away this time.
Although he treasured his position as guard, he was anxious to spend more time at the place he considered home.
For months now, he’d kept his distance from Ceilidh, a beautiful lass, who was companion to his laird’s wife. However, he missed catching glimpses of her. With blonde hair and a lithe body, the lass was beautiful. Often, he’d replayed the one time they’d been together.
She’d caught him just outside the keep courtyard at the woods’ edge. They’d kissed for a long time and she’d felt so good against him. It had been madness how far they’d gone, almost to the point of actual lovemaking.
Thankfully, Ceilidh had been the more reasonable of the two and stopped them from going further. They’d lingered on the forest ground for a long time, lying ne
xt to each other, holding hands, fingers interlaced.
His lips curved at the romantic notion of collecting a small river stone from where they’d lain.
Since that day, each time he saw her, it took Herculean effort to keep from speaking to her and renewing their friendship. However, he knew she wished for more from him and Ceilidh was not the type of woman a man toyed with.
She was not only beautiful, but also passionate and caring. She’d been the one who nursed him back to health, had been there through his entire recovery.
How could he repay her by tying her to him for life? He was without an arm and was probably kept on as guard only out of pity.
“Ian?” Tristan came up and gave him a quizzical look. “I have been calling to ye.” His friend’s lips curved. “Is yer head up in the clouds?”
Heat rushed to his face, a telltale sign that he was caught. “Thinking of our route ahead,” he lied.
“Ah, well,” Tristan said, looking around. “Ye just rode away from the rest of the party.”
Ian looked about and as Tristan had stated, he was indeed off the path and heading into the trees. “I have to relieve myself.”
It was obvious Tristan didn’t believe him, but the man nodded. “Aye, well, catch up when ye’re done.” He rode off back to where the rest of the party continued ahead.
“Stupid,” Ian muttered, dismounting and going into the woods. Moments later, he emerged from behind some bushes and went to his horse. The warmth of the sun heated his back and it felt good. Summer would soon approach and he looked forward to the warmer days.
Would Ceilidh and Malcolm’s wife continue their daily walks to the flower field? He often watched from atop the guard tower enjoying the view of a carefree Ceilidh, hair blowing in the breeze and…
“Ian!” a guard called, riding up. “Ye coming?”
“Aye.” Ian grabbed his horse’s reins. “Stop being an idiot,” he muttered to himself.
“What?” the guard asked. “I cannot hear ye.”
“I said, let’s catch up.”
*
Ross Keep
Walking through the great room to see what duties needed attending to, Ceilidh pondered at how much her life had changed.
She was more than happy to help Elspeth, her best friend, with the duties of running the household. Since her friend’s marriage to Laird Malcolm Ross, Ceilidh’s life had improved significantly and she was thankful for each second.
Once, she’d lived in a humble cottage with her family in Kildonan, a small village on nearby lands. Now, her beautiful chamber was almost as big as the entire humble home was.
Servants saw to most of her needs even though she considered herself a servant of sorts. Elspeth refused to see her as such, instead naming her a companion.
Ceilidh cared little what she was called and spent her days helping wherever she was needed even doing the most menial of duties. She was happy. Her family was nearby. Her closest friend and she lived together. And best of all, Elspeth was happy.
A maid approached, linens piled high in her arms. The young woman gave her a wry smile. “Time to change the smelly guards’ beds.”
Ceilidh followed her as she walked toward the corridor where the guards’ rooms were. There were only four rooms. Two for men Ceilidh didn’t know well, one was Naill’s and the other Ian’s.
She caught up with the servant. “I will do two and ye the other two.” She grabbed linens from the top of the pile and hurried down to the last two doors.
Once inside the first room, she left the door open and hurried about to ensure the work was done quickly. She’d promised Elspeth to go with her to the flower field so it was best not to dally about.
It took only a few moments to freshen the bed and sweep out the room. Then she went to the last room. It was Ian’s room and she hesitated at the doorway. She considered asking the girl to switch with her, but felt silly. The fact that Ian had ignored her since recovering from his devastating injuries was something she had to get used to. It was for the best that if a man didn’t desire a woman, the woman should turn her attention elsewhere.
From what she had observed, a man liked to chase after a women and after having his way with her, act as if nothing ever happened, often leaving the lass confused and lovesick.
She would not act like that and if he wished to add her to his conquest list, then so be it. As a matter of fact, she had made up her mind to speak to Ian and inform him there was no reason for him to continue avoiding her. She’d tell him they would leave the past behind them and move forward with their lives.
Separately, of course.
Thinking back to the many times she’d cried over being ignored by Ian, Ceilidh became annoyed. She hurried into his room and yanked back the sheets. She opened the window to allow fresh air in and upon throwing the dirty sheets into the hallway, she began to sweep.
The room was clean, but it smelled like him. Woods and fresh air, yes, that is what he’d smelled of when they’d spent time together. In the woods beside the keep, they’d kissed and held hands. She huffed and swept with vigor although there wasn’t much in the way of dirt on the floor.
She spread the clean linens on the bed and huffed in annoyance. “Nothing to do in this room and definitely no reason to meander about like a homesick child.”
Next to the bed was a small table, upon it a lantern and a small rock. Interesting what some people collected.
After one last look about the room, she left.
Chapter Six
“They arrive,” a guard from atop the gates at Munro Keep called out and a group of people gathered in the courtyard to look toward the gates.
Kieran went to stand just behind the laird’s family at the front entrance to the home.
“Yer family arrives with much fanfare,” a woman said, tapping his arm. It was someone he did not recognize. He nodded and returned his attention to the proceedings. After a few moments, the woman moved away.
The Munro family flanked the laird, as was the custom. Caylen stood next to a less than happy looking Gisela. If the man meant to marry the lass then Kieran pitied him more than her. She was strong and independent and would not allow the shallow idiot to take advantage of her. At least, that is what he hoped.
However, women had little power in a marriage. It would be a shame for her spirit to be broken.
His brother, Tristan, and guard, Ian, led the Clan Ross party followed by another two guards, the carriage, a cart with trunks and, lastly, ten guardsmen and six archers.
They rode through the gates and the carriage came to a stop at the bottom of the steps leading to the main house.
Two Ross guards dismounted and opened the carriage doors. His mother emerged, secondly his sister, followed by their companions.
Laird Munro, Lady Munro and Patrick, who would marry his sister, went down the steps to extend a warm welcome.
Kieran let out a breath and stepped back until his back was almost at the wall. Out of the corners of his eyes, he caught sight of Gisela slipping away around the side of the house.
In a couple of seconds, he was sure Caylen would follow. But as his brother, Tristan, approached to greet the laird and the party made their way into the keep, Caylen remained with the group.
Once he greeted his mother and sister, he did not follow them inside and instead walked to the side of the house to see what Gisela was doing.
At first, he didn’t see her. But after a few moments, he spotted her sitting on a bench, head bent as if in prayer.
She rubbed her shoulder and gingerly lowered the top of her blouse to peer at it. A dark, angry bruise purpled the otherwise fair skin. She touched it and winced.
“What happened?”
At his question, she jumped, her eyes jerking up to his. She pulled up the blouse, covering the bruise. “I ran into a…wall.”
“No, ye did not,” he replied, staring into her eyes. “The truth.”
Gisela huffed. “I do not know why ye care enough
to ask.” When she sighed, Kieran considered if perhaps his assertion of her ability to not be broken was wrong.
In a faraway voice, she spoke. “Perhaps I shall escape and go to live with my mother’s family. My aunt and uncle live in a beautiful tiny fishing village by the sea.”
Although he shouldn’t particularly care, Kieran couldn’t stop his curiosity when it came to Gisela. She piqued his interest like no one ever had before. “Who hurt ye?”
“I resisted a man’s advances. He did not take well to rejection.” Gisela shrugged. “I can defend myself.”
His gut clenched, fury rising. Anyone who hurt people less strong, unable to defend themselves, was without honor. “Who?” he asked through clenched teeth. “Tell me, Gisela.”
With raised eyebrows and wide eyes, she looked up at him. “Ye have never said my name before.” She stood. “Ye know who. But it matters not. I have put him in his place.”
Kieran took a step toward her. Her blouse slipped down off her left shoulder. The top of the bruise was visible and he found it impossible to look away. He reached toward her, but pulled back. “Stay away from him.” Kieran turned on his heel and walked away.
*
Had he meant to reach for her and attempt to kiss her again? Gisela considered that as Kieran disappeared around the corner toward the entrance to the home. Why would he care what happened to her?
If she were to be honest, her head spun from the strange actions of men. Caylen was a horrible person who used his position as the laird’s son to full advantage and acted like a tyrant. He’d claimed that he’d have her and her family thrown from Munro lands if she didn’t come to his bed. Idiot. Her father had seen that they were well taken care of and without need from the laird. Besides, her uncle and aunt would never agree to it.
She could not tell her brother what Caylen had done. Hamus was proud of his work at the stables, however, he would not hesitate to beat their cousin to a bloody pulp and then take her and her mother away if he saw the bruise.
A Hellish Highlander Page 5