Page 39 of It’s in his Highland Kiss

That told Marion nothing, and she sighed, throwing her hands in the air in exasperation. “Do you have a date?”

“Nay,” Edan said. “I’d think maybe a little over a week, maybe two.”

Two weeks was a long time for Marion to stew in her thoughts, but she hardly had any other option. She would have to wait and try to think about Eiric as little as possible.

“So, what’s been goin’ on between the two of ye?” Edan asked, much to Marion’s chagrin. She didn’t want to answer his question; it simply wasn’t proper. “He willna tell me a single thing, but I ken that he’s upset.”

“He is?” Marion asked, a small frown on her face. She hadn’t known that Eiric was upset, and she didn’t know what to do with that knowledge now that he was gone.

She wished that she could have talked to him before he left. There were many things that had been left unresolved between them, and though she had been the one to beg him to not say a word, she found herself wishing that they had discussed their feelings for each other.

She had only just come to terms with her own feelings though. That kiss that they had shared had been on her mind the entire night, keeping her awake for hours. Her shame over what they had shared had subsided in that time, and she had to admit that she wanted more.

She wanted Eiric. There was no denying her feelings anymore. She wanted him: his touch, his presence, his kisses; she wanted all of him, and she didn’t care what anyone else might say.

And from what she had seen the previous night, Eiric wanted her too. It was the first time that a man had even looked at her twice, and to know that he desired her was like a fire in her veins, lighting her up from the inside.

There was no feeling in the world like it, desiring someone and having him desire her too.

“Aye, he is,” Edan said. “He was never a verra cheery lad, but noo he’s unbearable. It’s a good thing we willna have him here for a couple of weeks.”

Marion knew that Edan was joking; Edan couldn’t live without Eiric, and Eiric couldn’t live without Edan. Still, she couldn’t share his excitement for Eiric’s departure, as she had so much to tell him about the two of them.

“Well, perhaps you should ask him when he comes back,” Marion said. “I don’t think it’s appropriate to ask me about it.”

“I’ll be yer friend, too, one day, Marion,” Edan said. “Just ye wait and see. One day, ye’ll grow to like me.”

“I highly doubt that,” Marion said, though there was no denying the small, amused smile on her lips. The truth was that she already considered Edan a friend, but she’d be damned if she let him find that out.

Just as she was about to walk away and head to the great hall for breakfast, there was a commotion in the courtyard, the voices of the servants and the clansmen coming in through the windows. Marion and Edan rushed to them and looked outside, trying to make sense of what was happening.

Looking past the crowd, Marion saw a horse standing by the gates. It looked familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.

“That’s Eiric’s horse,” Edan said then, answering her unspoken question.

“Where’s Eiric?”

Marion and Edan looked at each other, and neither of them dared to speak what was on their minds. The two of them rushed down the stairs and out to the courtyard, only to find that the laird and Adaria were already there.

Upon looking closer at the horse, Marion could see blood spatters on it, all over its fur and saddle.

She couldn’t breathe. The air was caught in her lungs, and it refused to go out. The world around her spun, the people’s voices turning into a cacophony of sound out of which she could derive no meaning.

Someone was talking to her, that much she knew, because suddenly, the sun was blocked. Someone was standing in front of her, perhaps trying to help her snap out of her panic, but she couldn’t hear a single word from their mouth; she couldn’t even tell who it was.

Her vision went dark at the edges, and she fell to the ground on her knees, trying to find a tuft of grass to hold onto, anything that was tangible enough to ground her in reality. There was a pair of hands pawing at her, trying to help her to stand, but she pushed them away as best as she could; she would much rather stay on the ground for a while, until she had regained her bearings.

“Somebody help the lass!” a voice called, and it rang clear in her ears. “Call the healer! Lord, what has happened to her?”

Eiric is dead, and Adaria will soon follow. She won’t bear this. She won’t.

Marion wondered if she could even bear it herself. Eiric had been everything to her: a friend, a confidante, a saviour. She couldn’t imagine her life without him.

Marion was aware that she was being picked up and moved away from the crowds, but she didn’t know who was carrying her, though her best bet would be Edan. After what seemed like hours to her, she began to regain proper consciousness, as something vile was shoved under her nose.

Sal ammoniac. Of course.

“Are ye alright, lass?” Edan’s voice came from beside her, and she turned to see him, along with Adaria and the laird there, the three of them looking at her with concern.