Page 71 of Highlander’s Burning Touch

Too close.

Niven’s heart had still not recovered when his uncle’s hand landed on his shoulder. He squeezed it in a friendly fashion that made Niven’s stomach turn. Guilt pulsated inside him, but he buttoned it down before turning to his uncle with a smile.

Rory had smiled at Deva, briefly, on her way out but made it clear that it was Niven he wanted. After waving Deva away, Rory looked at him and pulled him further from the keep.

His heart beating twenty to the dozen, Niven gave Rory his best smile. “Uncle,” he said guiltily.

Rory beamed at him. “Well, Niven, it seems ye weren’t quite so busy after all,” he said, his uncle said, his blue eyes twinkling in the light.

Niven smiled absently and looked about beyond the castle in front of them. Out there, the day had started, and Niven was itching to get into it.

All he wanted to do was to mount his horse and ride away from the Macaulay castle. But Rory had other ideas.

“Niven, we need to talk,” said his uncle. He looked a little shady. This instantly set Niven’s guilty heart racing. “But, um, first, ye havenae talked to MacLean yet, have ye? He was meant to be around here somewhere…I thought ye might have spoken to him already…”

“Ah, nae,” said Niven.

“Well, that’s a pity. I was meant to welcome him to the keep, and I wanted ye wi’ me when I did,” said Rory. Then he paused. “It’s important…”

“Aye, uncle,” agreed Niven. He would have said anything to get out of there more quickly.

“Well, the thing is, afore we meet the laird, there’s something we need to discuss…”

“Really? Well, ah, could it wait a wee while? I’ve got to get to the clanless lands. There was some sort o’ trouble there last night…” said Niven, trying desperately to pull away from the laird.

“No,” said his uncle. “It cannae. It’s waited too long already,” from the look in his eye, it seemed as if he wasn’t going anywhere. Reluctantly, Niven held back from edging away.

Although secluded from the castle by the wall, Rory glanced edgily as if this was still too public. He pulled Niven to one side and led him further on.

“Come on, lad,” he said in a low voice. “We should get the horses…”

His hand almost propelled Niven along the pathway towards the stables. Niven walked with Rory, glancing quickly behind at Deva, standing by the wall.

The strong winter sun razed through his eyes, making him squint. It did not take long for them to approach the stables. But even before they got there, a gaggle of servants around them.

Perhaps they heard Rory talking of horses, but the speed they appeared at unnerved Niven.

“Sachairi, bring the horses,” snapped Rory, clicking his fingers. The servants scurried off, but not before Niven was completely disoriented.

Whatever it was his uncle wanted to speak to him about, he didn’t want to do it here. Sensing his hesitancy, Rory gave a nod and then mounted his horse, which had appeared almost instantly.

Following suit, Niven hopped onto his horse too, and within minutes they were passing through the castle gates.

Rory waited until they were well out of earshot to continue. All the time, Niven’s sense of unease continued to grow. Whatever it was, his uncle was serious about this.

“So,” said Niven expectantly. He couldn’t hide this forever. Somehow, he had to find a way to make everything alright between them. Feverishly, his mind turned. No matter how hard he thought it through, there was only one answer. He was going to have to run away.

But just the thought of it made him sick. As he turned his face to his uncle, he tried his hardest to look gay, but deep down, he felt his gut wrench.

“So, son,” said Rory, looking at him warmly. Niven felt a ripple go all through him. It made him feel even more wretched when his uncle called him son. “I expect yer wondering what I dragged ye out here for…”

By now, they had left the keep behind. Rory was traveling at speed, cantering on his white horse, and Niven had to ride hard to catch him up.

“Aye, sir, I am rather,” confessed Niven. Somehow, they had got quite away from the castle. Finally, they were alone, in the wintery clearing.

Niven looked about. It was still as cold as it had been on the night they had ridden to the hunting lodge, but the snow was starting to melt. All the same, the cold air nipped at Niven’s fingers and made him wish his uncle had chosen someplace warmer to impart his devastating news.

“Well, it’s about the wedding,” he started. Niven instantly looked up. “It’s…well, it’s nae quite happening like it was going to…”