Page 48 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

Fiona's eyes opened. Out of nowhere, a bond she had not known about suddenly existed between them. Unexpectedly, she felt emotional.

Seeing her wet eyes, Clyde touched her hand lightly. It was only very softly, but it was enough to set off a tingle inside her. A low base of electricity buzzed around her.

"Aye," said Clyde, sincerely. "The Highlands lost many great men that day."

He paused awhile, and they worked on in silence for a few minutes, the only sound filling the glen being a huge flock of birds that lingered overhead. When Fiona looked up, she saw them circling, threateningly, as if they intended to swoop.

"An' well, that's all there is tae tell, really," said Clyde modestly. He put down his tools and reached for a hip flask. Taking a wee dram, he offered a sip of the cider to Fiona, who took it.

Oh, but there is,thought Fiona, but managed to keep the thought to herself. The only thing pumping through her mind was the Anderson maid.

Maybe it was silly. After all, he had said they were no longer betrothed. But she needed to know for sure there was nothing there between them.

Fiona watched as Clyde's deft hands tied knots and continued assembly of the tent. Then he stopped. Slowly, he smiled, showing his clean white teeth.

"Well, I suppose half o' the Highlands has heard tell o' me an' the runaway bride..."

Fiona looked at him blankly, her eyes widening as he spoke. Clyde could sense the intrigue in her. He had stopped, halfway through his speech, suddenly wracked by doubts.

Damn!Hadn't he given away enough last time? Staring into Fiona's eyes, it was impossible to think of anything but telling her everything she wanted. Instantly.

But internally, Clyde was struggling. He had given away too much last time. Without any sort of advanced warning, he had opened up and told her about his disastrous betrothal, albeit without any of the embarrassing details. Now, it seemed he was preparing to tell more.

Just before he started, Clyde checked himself. He was attracted to the lassie, and as the trees ran a breeze through her hair, he worked hard on restraining himself.

It was hard. She was sweeter now before his gaze than he had ever seen before. Her skin was pure, and her cheeks had such a lovely complexion he felt an overwhelming need to just stroke them.

Pulling away from Fiona was hard. But Clyde managed it. Just.

However, her compelling green eyes flashed their resolve, letting him know she wanted more.

Just as long as ye dinnae let slip the agreement wi' Anderson,he thought. With a tight grin, Clyde coughed.

"Well, I think everyone kens I was betrothed tae the maid o' the Anderson clan. It wasnae for too long," Clyde assured, as Fiona's eyes widened again. "An' o' course, it went all around the clans about the disappearing bride."

From the look on Fiona's face, Clyde realized that she did not. Kicking himself, he tried to backtrack.

"It's nae vera interesting," he said, in such a way that only made Fiona look more intrigued. Wishing badly he had not said anything, Clyde continued. He really had thought that someone had told her all this.

"I was engaged tae the wee Anderson lass." He glanced at Fiona. She nodded but did not say anything. "We were nae vera close."

Lie!A bell chimed loudly in Clyde's head. Despite Jonet's lack of enthusiasm for him, he could not say the same for him. He had been hurt desperately by her absconding. But of course, there was no way he was going to admit to that.

Fiona's eyes pierced his searchingly as if diving for truth. Evasively, Clyde looked away. He had nearly finished with the tenting poles and moved a little to tie the materials down.

"Well, it was, ye ken, an arranged nuptial on behalf o' our clans. I mean, I barely kent the lass." His eyes jetted to hers and back again as he worked. Wishing to look anywhere but her eyes, Clyde's gaze pointed to the sky, where the clear August skies were replaced with a much colder and darker blue, and overhead, a rain cloud scurried in. He was glad for the distraction.

"I see," said Fiona.

Clyde thought he could detect skepticism, but he was not sure.

"Anyhow, perhaps because o' that, the lass wasnae too keen on us being wed," said Clyde, suddenly bursting into a lopsided grin. "An', long an' short o' it, on the wedding day, she upped an' left."

There was a pause. Fiona's gaze was upon him, almost heavy. Clyde could not shake her eyes; they followed him everywhere. And the truth was, he was almost done here. Like an idiot, he just stood there, flailing.

"What was her name?" asked Fiona point-blank.

Clyde was so stunned that he looked as if he had been shot.