Page 34 of It’s in his Highland Kiss

“Weel, ye’re clearly upset,” Eiric said as he reached for the letter, but Marion pulled back from him, plastering herself against the wall. “And ye clearly dinna wish to show me whatever it is that ye’re holdin’. Tell me . . . what is it?”

“It’s nothing!” Marion insisted. “Why do you need to know what it is?”

“Because ye were cryin’, and noo ye’re lyin’ to me,” Eiric said. “And ye wouldna be doin’ that unless it’s somethin’ serious.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Marion insisted. “I’m sure you keep secrets from me too.”

“Never.”

The intensity with which Eiric had spoken gave Marion pause. He looked sincere, and the thought that she was lying to him and keeping secrets from him was suddenly like a stab to the heart.

“Show me,” Eiric said once more.

“No.”

“Show me, now.”

Marion considered her options. She could stay there, refusing to give Eiric the letter, and the two of them could argue once more, like they had only days prior, or she could give it to him and hope for the best.

She was being silly, she told herself. Eiric had made her a promise, after all.

“Fine,” she said, as she pulled the crumpled paper out of her pocket, handing it to him. Eiric took it and began to read it, eyes squinting as he did, trying to make out the words in the half-light of the corridor.

Once he seemed like he had read the entire thing, Marion smiled, their previous argument forgotten. “Well, what does it matter?” she asked. “This is my home now. I’m not going back to England. I already told you that.”

For a moment, Eiric hesitated, and Marion watched as he seemed to struggle to find the right words. Then, he opened his mouth and spoke, but what he said was not what she had been expecting to hear.

“I think ye should go. I think yer maither is right . . . for noo, yer place is in England.”

It was like a slap to the face, and Marion gasped, her hand coming up to rest over her mouth.

How can he say that? How can he say that after all the times he told me I could stay?

“What do you mean?” she asked. “Eiric, I’ve told you that I will never go back. How can I? How can I go back to a family that doesn’t love me? I know what life can be like now, and I can never go back there!”

She had made her choice a long time ago, and she didn’t even consider England her home anymore. Her home was the Highlands, the only real home she had ever had, and she wasn’t about to give it up because of some stupid war.

Because it was the war, of course, that had prompted Eiric to convince her to leave, not the letter from her parents. Eiric wouldn’t care about what her parents thought; he only cared about her safety, and what he perceived to be a threat to her.

“I promise, I will come and bring ye home after the war,” Eiric said. “Surely, it canna be that bad, stayin’ in England for a while!”

“And how long will the war be?” Marion asked with a huff, her hands coming to rest on her hips. “How long am I going to have to stay in England with my parents? A year? Two? Perhaps even more? How can you ask me to stay there for so long, when you know what it took for me to get out of that place?”

Eiric seemed to have no answer to that. He sighed, running both hands through his hair, making it stick up, something that Adaria would certainly disapprove of if she caught a glimpse of him.

“I dinna ken, lass,” Eiric said. “The truth is that I dinna ken, but it doesna matter how long the war is. Ye’ll be safer there, with yer maither and yer faither, than ye’ll ever be here.”

“Your mother wants me here,” Marion said indignantly, pointing a finger at Eiric. “She told me that she wants me by her side.”

“She’ll reconsider,” Eiric said. “This is for yer own safety, Marion. I wouldna dream of sendin’ ye back for any other reason but yer safety. It’s serious, verra much so. I might nae return from this war.”

“If you don’t return from the war, how will I return to Scotland?” Marion asked, pointing out the flaw in Eiric’s logic. “I’ll be stuck there again, and there will be no way for me to come back. They won’t listen to me, and they certainly won’t listen to Adaria. Even if I sneak out of the house, how will I make it to Scotland?”

“Dinna fret, lass,” Eiric told her. “If I die, then I’ll make sure to send someone else in me place. Ye willna be stuck in England, trust me.”

“Well . . . I’m not going,” Marion said with an air of finality. “I’m not. It was torture being in England. I won’t go back.”

“Aye, ye will.”