With limpid blue eyes.
Jane woke up with a start. She was panting, her chest heaving up and down. She felt tears well in her eyes. She heard a knock at the door, but she thought she had imagined it. But then she heard it again, and she stood up and walked to the door. She opened it, thinking it must be Catrina.
It was Alistair.
“What are you doing here?” Jane asked.
“Ye were screaming,” Alistair returned. “I have come tae find out why ye are distressed.”
She burst into tears then. Alistair looked alarmed. He came into her room and shut the door behind him. “It is alright, lass. Dinnae cry any more. Soon, I shall return ye tae yer life as ye once kenned it. I dinnae intend tae keep ye here. Ye have me word.”
“I am not weeping-” She choked on a sob. “I am not weeping because I fear what you may do to me. I am distressed because I just had a nightmare about my uncle.” She sniffed and looked at him pointedly. “Whom you killed.” Alistair’s face darkened. “I was so close to him. Every time I see my reflection, I see him. I cannot run from it. I do not want to run from it. I miss him so. And do you know what makes it worse? It is that I speak to you as though you did not do it. As though we were… friendly acquaintances. When you killed him.”
“Jane,” he said, taking her arms and leading her to the bed so she would be more comfortable. “May I sit beside ye, lass?” he asked.
“It is your castle,” she responded.
Alistair sat on the bed. “Jane… maybe me clan did kill him.”
This admission jerked Jane’s head up. “I would like fer it nae tae be so, but it may very well be. We are in a war. There are a lot of deaths on both sides. It is nae impossible that his death was at the hands of one of me clansmen. But as I told ye, one thing ye can be sure of is that every clansman of mine knows how I feel about stabbing another man in the back.” Jane could see, from the set of his shoulders, that it took him a lot to say this. “And I can swear tae you that I didnae kill him.”
“How can you be sure?” Jane asked. “You have said it yourself. It is a war, with casualties on both sides.
“I ken I didnae kill him because, besides never stabbing an enemy in the back, I would have remembered him if he had had the same green eyes as ye dae.”
His statement took her by surprise. Distress pulsed through her. Alistair seemed to sense it, for he held her arms and explained: “Nay, Jane. Dinnae think that I have captured ye fer vengeance’s sake.” He sighed. “I have captured ye fer the sake of me braither.”
Jane cocked her head. “Yer braither?”
“Yes,” Alistair replied and finally told her the truth. “Me only living blood relative. Yer fiancé captured him almost a moon ago. He is keeping him prisoner. I merely want tae deliver ye tae him in exchange fer me braither. That is the reason fer it all. I have nay sinister intent, Jane Marsh.”
Jane nodded in understanding. It made perfect sense now. In a way, she was relieved.
“I would dae anything fer me braither,” he continued.
Jane nodded. She would do anything for her sister too. In a way, they were both there, in that very moment, because of the sacrifices they had chosen to make for the people they loved most in the world.
Of their own volition, her hands took his. She wanted to communicate to him that she understood him, that on this point, no one could possibly understand him more than she did.
His gaze seared her skin, brought on feelings that she did not even know that she had to the surface. She realized, suddenly, that she was wearing only a flimsy nightgown. It was Catrina’s and so it was even shorter on her. Her bare legs were in sight, He breasts pressed against the fabric. Conscious, she sought something with which to cover herself.
“Dinnae worry,” Alistair said, “I shall leave now.” He disengaged his hands from hers and stood up. “Your fiancé, bastard though he is, is a lucky man.” He turned to go, but Jane took his hand. “Stay.”
Alistair looked at her in befuddlement.
“I feel nothing for him,” she said quickly, her words tumbling over themselves in her haste to get them out. “Well, that is not correct, not completely at least. I am revulsed by him, revulsed by everything he stands for and revulsed by the part he played in all of this. My marriage to him is payment for his silence over my sister’s predicament.” Just then, Jane stopped herself. Eleonor’s predicament was a secret, and she would never reveal it unless she had her sister’s consent to do so.
A questioning look appeared on Alistair’s face and he seemed poised to say something.
“I think about being married to him and it drowns me,” she added quickly, to stop him. “It drowns me, Alistair.” Jane was breathing hard, and she knew she was doing an awful job of communicating what it was that she really wanted, but she had to try. “I know that my destiny is to marry a despicable man, but…” Her voice trailed off. She had to say it the right way. It was unladylike, what would follow next, but she would say it anyway. She was no coward, and this was her life.
She looked deeply into his eyes and said, “Alistair, I want to know desire before I am trapped forever.”
“Dae ye ken what ye are saying, lass?”
She said nothing and instead rose. She walked to him until they stood facing each other. And then she brought his head down and kissed it. It was inexperienced, experimental. She knew the motions but not the method, but that did not deter her. She moved her lips against him, regardless.
And then he took over. He took her lower lip between both of his. He nipped at it, teased it with the tip of his tongue. And then he slipped his tongue inside.
