Page 32 of It’s in his Highland Kiss

That didn’t seem to be the answer that Edan was expecting. He looked confused, as though he couldn’t understand why Marion would be leaving Scotland. “Do ye think that’s a good idea?” he asked. “What if she talks? The English are bound to ask her questions.”

“She willna talk,” Eiric said, his mouth set in a firm line. He was certain that Marion would do nothing to put them in danger. Scotland was her home now, and no matter how many questions the English would ask her, she would not give them the answers that they wanted.

Besides, no one would ever lay a finger on her in England. Her parents, for all their faults, were important people. Lady Hadlee would wage war herself before she would let anyone touch her daughter.

“If ye say so.” Edan sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. “Ye ken her better than I do. But what about you, hmm? What happens to ye when she’s gone?”

“What do ye mean?”

“Weel . . . will ye go back to being yer old, sullen self?” Edan asked.

The look that Eiric gave the other man was almost enough to kill. He didn’t think that he used to be sullen before Marion had come to the castle. She had certainly changed him for the better in her months there, but he refused to believe that he used to be sullen. He was always cheerful, always a joy to be around, he told himself.

“I was never sullen,” he said. “And anyway, she doesna affect me as much as ye may think she does. “I just like the lass, that’s all. But there’s plenty of lasses out there.”

At least that’s what he told himself. Even though there were plenty of girls around him, Eiric had come to realise that he didn’t really want any of them, not anymore. Marion was the only girl in his mind, no matter how much he tried to push her out of his thoughts, day after day. She was always there, always lurking behind every other thought, and he could do nothing to push her away.

He had tried, of course; he had tried everything. He had tried staying away from her, but it was impossible, not only because they were required to have dinner together, along with the rest of his family, but also because she was like a magnet, always drawing him towards her. He had tried telling himself that girls should be the last thing on his mind, that he should focus on the upcoming war, but that hadn’t worked either.

There was nothing left for him to do other than admit that his feelings for her were strong, much stronger than he would have liked.

Eiric doubted that his father, or even his mother for that matter, would be happy to know that he had feelings for Marion. They would be furious, and they would pull them apart, which was more than he could bear.

At least as long as Marion was there, he could still spend time with her. Once the war was over, he would bring her back from England, and fulfil his promise of allowing her to stay in Scotland. Even after she would be married to a good clansman and he to the daughter of a neighbouring laird, he would still have her in his life.

It was better than nothing.

“Weel, I only came to tell ye about the MacAuleys,” Edan said, as he began to walk backwards towards the stairs. “Do what ye think is best with the lass.”

With that, Edan was gone, and Eiric was left there, in the middle of the corridor, staring at the empty staircase in front of him. Even though he had to find Marion, he decided to go back to his father’s study instead and inform him of the new developments.

His father wouldn’t be happy, Eiric knew that already. He hardly wanted to be the messenger and face his wrath, but someone had to do it, and he knew that the other clansmen would go to great lengths to avoid it.

When he knocked on his father’s door once more, he took a deep breath and waited until the other man invited him in. Stepping inside, he closed the door, keeping his expression as neutral as he could.

“Ye again?” his father asked, and had it been anyone else, he would have been offended. “I thought ye’d go speak to the lass.”

“Aye, but Edan said somethin’ to me that ye should ken,” he told his father. “The MacAuleys have withdrawn their support. I’ll be ridin’ there first thing the morrow to talk to the laird.”

His father’s hand slapped the desk so hard that he spilled his cup of wine over the wooden surface. He was furious, and Eiric could tell that he was using every ounce of his self-control to stop himself from yelling.

“Those bastards,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “First, they promise us all their men, every single one who can fight, and noo this? And he wants ye to marry one of his daughters? Ha! Dinna even think about it, lad.”

“Trust me, Faither, his daughters are the last thing on me mind,” Eiric assured him. “I dinna ken what else to tell him. He wasna an easy man to convince, and who kens what got into him noo to change his mind. Do ye think he’s been talkin’ to the Campbells? They’re the ones who have been opposed to this since the verra start.”

“Perhaps,” his father said. “We canna ken for certain until ye go there. And I dinna ken what ye can say to him. He’s a bastard.”

“Aye, Faither, I heard that the first time,” Eiric said, a small smile on his lips. “I suppose I’ll try to flatter his girls, tell him that an alliance between our clans would be verra helpful for him.”

“Whatever works.”

As always, his father was a man of few words. Eiric stood by the door, hesitating for a moment, before he spoke again.

“I willna be back by the time ye send Marion away, aye?” he asked.

“Aye, I suppose so.”

“Will ye tell her that I’m sorry?” he asked. “Tell her . . . tell her that once the war is over, she can come back here if she so desires.”