Page 11 of It’s in his Highland Kiss

Eiric grabbed a fistful of grass, ripping it off the ground. Then, he took Marion’s hand and pulled her down with him, the two of them sitting on the grass.

“Stay verra still noo,” he said. “If ye’re verra still, maybe it’ll come to us.”

Eiric watched Marion and saw that she did as she was told, even holding her breath for a few moments. He smiled, fascinated by the woman sitting next to him, and he couldn’t help but wonder how much he didn’t know about her, how much there still was for him to discover.

It was a thought that caught him by surprise, and he tried to push it away from his mind. Romance hadn’t been the reason why he had gone to England, after all, and he doubted that his father would approve of him having romantic relations with anyone, let alone a girl who had no real connection to Scotland, despite her Scottish heritage.

War was imminent. War was the one thing that should be on Eiric’s mind.

He heard a soft gasp, and turned to look at Marion, who was staring straight ahead. Eiric followed her gaze and saw the rabbit there, approaching cautiously, and suddenly, nothing mattered but the rabbit. He stayed still, his hand stretched out with the grass as an offering, and soon, the rabbit was eating out of it, much to Marion’s delight.

She reached for it, her fingers gently petting the rabbit’s head between its ears, and Eiric was surprised to see that the rabbit didn’t flee.

Weel, time for supper.

Just as Eiric reached for the rabbit’s throat, his fingers ready to grip its fur and twist its neck for a merciful end, Marion stopped him, slapping his hand away. The rabbit ran away before Eiric could catch it, and he could do little more than roll onto his back with a groan, his hands covering his face.

“What did ye do, lass?” he moaned, his stomach grumbling in sympathy. “What are we supposed to eat noo?”

“I don’t know, but not that rabbit,” Marion said sternly, standing up and dusting off her skirt. “I’ll . . . I’ll find something. Some mushrooms or some roots. I used to do that with Miss Alby when I was a child, I’m sure that these woods are full of mushrooms.”

Eiric sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He felt annoyance bubble up inside him, threatening to spill over, but he caught it before it could.

She’s only an innocent girl. She doesna ken any better.

“Alright,” he said, pushing himself off the ground. “I’ll start a fire.”

“Are you cross with me?” Marion asked, her hand gripping his forearm to stop him from walking away. “I couldn’t, Eiric . . . I couldn’t watch it die.”

“I’m nae cross,” Eiric assured her. “But every rabbit’s the same, Marion. Every rabbit is darlin’. Every rabbit ye see, ye’ll want to keep alive.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” Marion said. “Perhaps you should hunt alone from now on.”

“Will it make a difference?” Eiric asked. “Ye’ll still ken where it came from.”

“I suppose not,” Marion said, and pulled away with a sigh.

She began to search the ground for mushrooms and roots, and didn’t speak another word as she worked, leaving Eiric to work on the fire. Once again, he watched her, as if in a trance, unable to take his eyes off her.

There was something about that girl, something that he couldn’t quite pinpoint. Whatever it was though, it drew him to her, and he could do nothing to escape her gravity, hard as he tried.

Eiric spent most of his time looking at Marion rather than trying to build a fire, but in the end, he managed to light one, and sat close to it, seeking its warmth. It had been a cold day, and they had spent it travelling, stopping only when absolutely necessary.

He was eager to get home. He had missed his family and his friends, but most of all, he had missed Scotland. He could swear that the Scottish air was different, that the grass was greener and the ocean bluer. He remembered it as such, and it hadn’t been that long ago when he had last been in Scotland.

Or perhaps he missed it so much that he had painted a different picture of the country in his head, one that was his and his only.

“Where have you gone?” Marion asked him, as she placed an armful of mushrooms on the ground next to him. It was the phrase that he asked her all the time, whenever she seemed to be lost in her thoughts, and now the cheeky woman was using it on him.

“I’m right here, lass,” he said, a grin on his lips. “Just thinkin’.”

“Thinking about what?”

“Scotland.”

There was a short stretch of silence between them, and Marion began to wash the mushrooms with what water they had left in the flasks that Eiric carried. She was focused on her task, her brow furrowed as she worked carefully on them.

“What is Scotland like?” she asked him, and only then did Eiric realise that she probably didn’t remember much about the place. She had been so young when she had last been there, after all, and it had been years since then.