by Fiona Faris
“I hope yer accommodations are tae yer likin’.”
Kyle sat down at the small table and gestured for her to sit across from him. “Aye, thank ye again.”
Neilina smiled at the reassurance. In truth, the place was warm and comfortable. Somehow the secret of their meeting added a layer of adventure to the place. She felt as if she was hiding away from the world. In that moment, it was just the two of them. Without the roar of their commotion to distract her, the games seemed distant. She could hear the rain pattering and the fire crackling, and felt both safe and at ease in the stranger’s presence.
Kyle did not waste time with pleasantries. He woke up that morning, determined to use Neilina’s position to learn as much as he could to help himself. Lying to her and knowing that she served a purpose did not sit well with his conscience. Despite her friendly attempts, he tried to ice out her smile and focus their conversation on the lessons, overridden by guilt that her excited banter was playing naively into his calculated motives.
“I cannae express me gratitude,” Neilina confided. “If me Father had it his way, I’d never’ve learned tae read or write in the first place. He’d ne’er approve. Says it’s a waste o’ time fer a woman.”
Kyle watched the downcast of her features. She rubbed a rough scar on her left hand as she thought about her troubles a moment. He dared not ask about the scar and tried his best not to stare at where her delicate fingers brushed back and forth over the uneven pink tissue.
“T’isn’t.”
Neilina looked up at Kyle. She was surprised that he responded. They had sat across from one another at the table, and the only words he spoke until that moment were about the basics of French. Even those were curt and to the point.
“Ye say so?” she pushed for more.
“I do.” He looked down at his hands a moment, his lips pressed into a firm line. Then he looked up, “I believe everyone should learn as much as they can, even a lassie as yerself. It’s in my experience those that keep people from learnin’ are usually the ones tryin’ tae keep ‘em from livin’ as well.”
Neilina was awestruck by the conviction she saw oscillating in his bright green eyes. It was a relief to meet someone open-minded. Too often, she had met her grievances regarding her education with solemn reprimands regarding respect and her father’s best interests.
“I wish more people thought like ye, Robert,” she stared off, through the walls of the croft, “I envy ye, y’know. Kyle chortled at this. It brought Neilina back into the room, back into her body. A smirk curled her lips up, “Ye think that’s funny, d’ya? Ye have no idea what I’d do tae see Rome,” she said with a heavy, dreamy sigh, and ruffled her curls. “I bet ye’ve been on all kinds o’ adventures.”
A smile stretched across her tutor’s face. Neilina could not help but feel a deep satisfaction at having put it there. “Aye, I ‘spose I have.”
Neilina wrapped her arms around herself. She looked at him nervously, wondering what he was thinking about her behind his unreadable features. “I want that.” She turned her gaze away from him, fearing that she might see judgment. When she finally looked up, there was nothing of the sort. His green eyes sparkled with admiration. A grin lifted his lips into a slight smile.
“My words are runnin’ away with me, an’ ye must think I’m foolish fer talkin’ so much about this nonsense.”
All at once, his face became cross. “I think nothin’ o’ the sort. Ye can talk as much as I can listen.” He nodded.
The seriousness with which he said this touched her heart. Neilina’s laughter filled the croft, and soon, his tension melted from his shoulders. She watched in gratitude as he relaxed into his seat.
“An’ it’s not nonsense—tae have dreams,” the tutor added. “I respect that about ye.”
This lit a flame in Neilina, encouraging her to unload her troubles to this willing and accepting ear. “I wish more people understood. Normally, I’m more content than this. It’s jus’, as o’ late, I….” her voice lowered as if she was talking more to herself, as if her mind was elsewhere, “have responsibilities as the Laird’s daughter than I cannae escape. The life o’ me youth is at an end.”
“Och, that’s nonsense,” Kyle said. “What have ye, twenty years?”
Neilina laughed at this, feeling a blush burn her pale cheeks, “Twenty and four. An’ ye don’t understand. It is endin’, at least how I ken it.” She paused, feeling her body weigh down with the uncertainty of her future, “Graham McDonnell,” she said, more to herself than to the stranger before her.
The name had a startling effect on the man. He snapped straight up in his seat, every muscle re-tightening. Neilina looked at him for a moment, a bit shocked by the way his attention refocused. He was a handsome man. Her eyes ran over the strength in his arms—their muscles defined, doubtless from the mastery of the blade slung over the back of his seat. She could see the intelligence in his green eyes. His hair curled, a dark brown with the slightest touch of red shining through. Although his features remained stoic for the most part, when he did smile, dimples touched his cheeks in a way that melted her with his charm.
Most of all, he left her curious and longing to know more about him. Everything about his posture and nature sang of mystery and adventure. There was an air to him that made him seem like a character from one of the fables that enraptured her throughout his youth. A pilgrim with a haunted past—an intellect and a warrior. Even though, he said nothing of it, she knew he was a warrior. She could see the look in his eyes, as if he’d witnessed more than scrolls and sanctuaries. What else was he keeping secret?
“D’ya ken him?” she asked, eying him suspiciously.
“Nay—I mean, o’ course I’ve heard o’ him.” His nerves started to settle. “How’re ye connected with the McDonnell’s?” He glowered at her.
The casual conversation tilted. She felt as if she was now on the stand. The truth was, she was longing for someone to confide in. All of her fears seemed to boil beneath the surface, begging to be released.
Neilina shook her head, wishing she could retract the name, “The McDonnells arrive tomorrow morn.” She ruffled her tresses, avoiding the stranger’s gaze, and added, “I have many duties tae keep.”
When she looked back at him, he was in deep thought. His index finger curled over his lips. His brows knitted together over his deep, green eyes. He said nothing in response, and Neilina was left questioning whether she'd said too much. She was about to speak when the man suddenly looked up at her.
“I think it’s time we focus.” He gave her a smile that did not touch his eyes.
Neilina felt insecure, feeling as if she’d blundered and humiliated herself with her loose tongue. She swallowed and nodded, eager to get onto business. Determination to be a good pupil awakened within her. Something about the man’s stoic nature stirred a desire within her to impress him—to be a good student and earn his respect.
“I see ye brought yerself a quill. Are ye good with it?” he asked.
Neilina shrugged, diving her hands into her basket to bring out what tools she could find without rousing her mother’s suspicions.
“Let me ken if I need tae slow down, but ye should keep notes. I wrote this oot fer ye already.” Kyle slipped a half sheet of rag paper across the table. “It’s tha alphabet. I suggest practicin’ them morn and nigh’ if ye want tae move forward.”
Neilina glanced at the sheet before looking up at him, perplexed, “’Tis English.”
Kyle shook his head and grinned, this time genuinely. “Nay, ‘tis French. It jus’ looks English. I want yeh tae repeat after me: a, beh, seh, deh, eh—”
Neilina tried her best to copy the way he pronounced each syllable. She struggled with how he pronounced “y” as “ee-grek” with a single roll of the “r.” Her face scrunched up in dismay as she mouthed the letters again to herself. Kyle gave her a moment before continuing.
“Ye’ll see I left ye space tae write on yer sheet,” he pointed to the
blank margins above and below each letter. “Repeat after me again. This time, write how it sounds tae ye underneath the letter, so ye can practice on yer own.”
Seriousness washed over Neilina. The smile and good cheer faded from her features, replaced by a steely will to master her lessons. Kyle waited until her quill was full and in the ready position, hovering over the pages. Again, she repeated after him out loud. This time, it took longer to make it through, as they paused after each letter long enough for Neilina to write out the sounds, repeating them as necessary to ensure her accuracy. At one point, she let out a small growl.
“Give me a moment.” she withdrew a small knife from her basket and worked to remove the top layers of the rag paper, where she’d made a mistake. Kyle watched her with amusement, her full attention immersed in the task at hand.
They repeated this exercise until Neilina was able to say them without Kyle’s aid. She smiled the first time she made it through on her own, delight filling her eyes. She repeated them again, as fast as her tongue would allow only faltering when it would not roll the way Kyle’s did. There was a moment of silence as she stared at the parchment in thought. Kyle watched until she pushed her chair away from the table. The man nearly knocked his over as he scrambled to stand.
“I think it’s time I take me leave,” she pushed a curl from her face. “I fear I’ve stayed too long as t’is.”
“O’ course,” he said.
Neilina smiled at how seriously he spoke. “It’s been a pleasure. May I return on the morrow?”
“Aye,” he gave her a weak smile before opening the door.
Neilina paused at the threshold, not wanting to say goodbye. There was great comfort in being there with him. She felt as if she could unload every secret in her heart and never see a flicker of judgment cross his face.
“Tomorrow, then.”
“Tomorrow.”
Neilina forced herself to walk away. She only made it a few paces before she peeked back over her shoulder. He was staring at her. She could see those bright green eyes framed by chestnut curls watching her every move. It sent a thrill through her heart and lit a fire in her cheeks. Her day passed slowly, and everything she experienced, everything she saw, felt like something she wished to share with her new friend and instructor. She tucked it all away, longing to talk to him once again.
Back in the croft, Neilina’s words gave Kyle much to think about. Graham McDonnell was a man Kyle knew well. Up until the mention of his name, Kyle had been thinking of ways he might put off another tutoring session. This changed everything.
Graham McDonnell was the son of Laird MacDonnell. Until the moment Kyle was accused of treachery and forced into exile, Laird MacDonnell had planned to appoint Kyle as heir over Graham. This was not merely about that. Graham would know if Robert was there, and Robert was the only man Kyle could trust enough to help him. Although he was not proud of it, he knew Neilina was the perfect way to track the movements of the MacDonnells and gain the information he needed.
He did not think it would be hard—all he had to do was keep her talking, which she seemed willing enough to do. An involuntary smile crossed his face as he thought of her. She was spirited, and in truth, he loved listening to her talk. The conviction behind her words made her stand out as an unusual person. It sickened him to think of how he was using her. There was no other way that he could see to get around it. This was just another burden he had to bear if he ever wanted to return to his home.
That night, as the spring winds battered the walls of the croft, Kyle found himself thinking of ways he might make up for betraying Neilina. He hoped she never discovered his intentions behind staying on as her tutor, but he felt guilt and a debt to her nonetheless. Learning what he did with just their first lesson, he knew enough about her to know she was starving for adventure—a reprieve from the day-to-day mundane life carved out for her by her family. It was clear from how her eyes shone at the mention of his travels. She was helping him in more ways that she knew. He felt obligated to give her something in return.
Kyle thought furiously aobut ways he might delight her and add something to her life in exchange for all that he planned to take. It comforted his conscience enough for him to rest. By the time sleep found him, he discovered he was excited to see her again. He smiled as he tried to imagine what her reaction might be on the morrow.
Chapter Three
Kyle awoke with an urge to call off the day’s lesson. Dishonesty, even in the form of omission, did not sit well with his soul. He sat down on the croft’s front porch, watching as the sun rose in the distance. The gold light touched the green pastures marked off for the games, its light illuminating the tents. The thick gray smoke of early morning campfires twisted into the clear sky.
The world was still, but Kyle could make out the gentle sounds of morning—birds singing, and dishes clinking quietly as servants prepared meals for their masters. Despite the spark of intelligence Kyle saw in Neilina, he knew she was naïve, innocent from the guarded manner in which she was raised. It angered and sickened him to think of how easily she helped him before knowing anything at all about him. He knew this anger was displaced. A part of him knew it was because he hated himself for wanting to use her to gain the information he needed.
Kyle ran his fingers through his dark, thick hair. He refocused his mind on the reasons behind his decision. There was no way he could run around asking questions without rousing suspicions. In fact, it was dangerous for him to leave the croft at all. The arrival of the MacDonnells meant the arrival of his father. If no one else took notice of him, his father would in an instant. To think of his father, Magnus, brought him pain. The guilt washed over him anew as he knew the shame it would bring Magnus to ken how he was using the poor lass.
The temptation to call it all off and figure it out on his own nearly carried him to his feet and across the pastures separating him from the keep. He stilled himself, forcing himself to remember what was at stake—his freedom. No matter what he felt, he knew this was the only way to clear his name. It was not the first time he needed to harden his heart to carry out what was necessary. Besides, there was no way to send Neilina word even if he wished to cancel their lesson.
Instead of brooding, Kyle forced himself to get up and start on preparations for when his pupil arrived. When he was a child, the MacDonnells visited the MacFarlane lands. He remembered a place not far from the croft—a hidden place forgotten by the current world. The thought occurred to him that the trek might be too much for a lady. For that reason, he did his best to gather up a basket of baked goods retrieved from the farmer, hoping it would do to make any stopping point a break from the woman’s mundane tasks. He looked at the basket, feeling discouraged and doubtful. There was not much inside of it, and lacking color and elegance, it did not look fit for a lady.
A rap at the door pulled Kyle from his reverie. He straightened the sleeves of his tunic before turning the handle. A corona of light burst behind Neilina’s vibrant features. It took Kyle’s breath away to see her there, glowing like a mirage before him. His mouth dried as he admired her, quite surprised at seeing her in this light and feeling a sensation rather new rise up inside himself. The square cut of her bodice revealed her sharp clavicles in a way that made her look as if she were sculpted from marble.
“May I come in?” Neilina considered him, her head tilted in an amused fashion.
Becoming aware of how foolish he must seem, standing in dumbfounded silence, Kyle cleared his throat and stepped aside. “O’ course.” He felt his cheeks burn and looked away from her in embarrassment.
A playful smile toyed at her lips as if she knew exactly how beautiful she was and found delight in his temporary disarray. She strode in and set her things down. Her slender hands touched the basket on the table and looked up at Kyle, her eyes filled with curiosity.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“I was thinkin’,” he swallowed, clearing the dry sensation from his mouth, “if ye’
d like tae, that is?” He touched the nape of his neck, feeling more unsure of his decision than before. “Ye mentioned the strain ye’ve been under with the games, I thought it may be nice tae take our lesson away from it all.”
Kyle tried not to look at her, feeling foolish in both his delivery and invitation. If he did look up, he would have seen the radiance and excitement which blossomed on Neilina’s face. Her eyes widened, and her fingers traced over the bent branches forming the basket with a delicate admiration.
“I’d love tae!” Kyle looked up at her, and their eyes locked. He felt a warmth spread over his chest as her genuine excitement infected him. “Where’d ye have in mind?”
Kyle smirked, forgetting his conflict and plots in the present moment. “That, m’lady, is a surprise.”
Neilina giggled at the way he called her ‘m’lady.’ She bounced on the balls of her feet. “How exciting! Lead the way, then.” She made a wide, sweeping gesture.
Her smile was like the sun. It was impossible to feel the weight of Kyle’s current predicament when she looked at him with glowing eyes and full, parted lips. Kyle grabbed the basket from the table, feeling a sense of urgency to show her the special place he had in mind. With a second glance towards her, he thought of something.