Page 18 of A Kilted Marriage of Convenience

CHAPTERELEVEN

The sun had since set, and the moon was high in the sky, yet Aidan was still pacing his room. While insomnia was a rather normal occurrence for him, with his troubled nights and sleepwalking, that night he was unable to close his eyes for a different reason altogether.

He paced, looking constantly at his door, expecting that at any minute there would be a knock from a guard, telling him that Ciara had asked to be moved upstairs. As time went on, it dawned on him that the woman might have actually intended to spend her night in the dungeons. He let out a chuckle at the thought.

"Nay, it cannae be so. That crazy lass is only trying to bide her time.” Surely, she daenae mean to spend all night in there, right? He shook his head and laughed once more. The idea was preposterous. Of course, she would not be spending all night in a prison.

Aidan walked slowly to his window and looked up at the sky, counting the stars that were creating different figures before him. A few hours had passed since sundown, but there was still time for Ciara to change her mind. Perhaps she had a skewed sense of time now that she was in there, and would break any minute.

Aye, that is definitely what it is. It cannae be anything else.

Aidan decided that he would finally try to sleep since she would soon be up, begging to be allowed back into her room. Yet as he made his way to his bed, he could not bring himself to settle in. How could he be expected to rest on clean sheets and go to sleep when poor Ciara was consigned to the cold dungeon floor? Aidan might have been many things, but one of the things he was not was heartless.

He poured himself a glass of whisky and sipped at it, waiting for the inevitable moment a guard would notify him of Ciara’s willingness to play by the laird’s rules and sleep in her chamber witha soldier keeping an eye on her. Half an hour passed, and he was still alone, the keep almost soundless. Aidan picked up the robe lying on a chair nearby and wrapped it around his body. He looked down the hallway to make certain that neither his brother nor sister were wandering around before he made his way out.

Aidan started his journey to the dungeons. He avoided making much noise as he went quietly down the stairs. He reached the dust-encrusted prisons and cleared his throat to awaken the guards stationed at the entrance of the dungeon.

"Has the lass asked to be moved yet?" he asked.

"Nay, my laird. She has nae said a word since ye brought her here. We routinely check up on her like ye requested, and every time we find her with her head between her knees, nae raising it up to even acknowledge our presence," the guard murmured uncomfortably as the others nodded.

"I see. Well, I am sure she will be begging to be let out soon, and when that time comes, I want to be notified immediately." Aidan ran a hand through his hair. "Have some food and a blanket prepared for her."

"Aye, my laird," the guards replied together as he left.

He had been tempted to check on her himself, to see how she was doing, but he had changed his mind. She would need to learn that she was a captive, even though she was not being treated like one.

If this was the only way for her to learn, then so be it.

Aidan snuck back into his room as quietly as he had ventured down, and he climbed into bed, smiling as he closed his eyes. Any minute now she will be at my door.

Yet again, a few minutes had passed but he could not let himself relax.

Damn that lass!He had begun to worry. What if the guards had not gone to check on her and she passed out from the cold? What if she was afraid and it broke her? She was defenseless. Nay, nay! This is sick.

With that thought plaguing his mind, he got out of bed once more and ventured down the dungeons.

"Has she said anything?" he asked immediately.

The guards shook their heads. "Nay, my laird, she had nae said nor done anything."

"Stubborn chit of a lass," Aidan grumbled low in his throat.

He was utterly frustrated.

Ever since Ciara had arrived, she had done nothing but irritate and intrigue him. Maybe she was better off returning to her father's home after all. Revenge was not worth all this agony.

"Did ye give her the food and blanket like I asked?" Aidan prompted.

"Aye, my laird. I gave it to her, but she refused them both saying she was nae hungry, nor cold".

"What?" Aidan hissed through his teeth. "Why would she dae that? Daes she have a death wish?" He hurried past the guards and went to the cell she was in, his worry increasing with every step he took.

"Give me the keys," he ordered to the guard who had rushed behind him.

Aidan immediately opened the door and walked into the cell, crouching in front of Ciara to give her a once-over. She had curled into a corner, folded into herself with her head between her knees. He could see that she was trembling, and he touched her, trying to check how cold she was. He hissed when he reached her skin. She was ice-cold.

At the touch of his hand upon her skin, Ciara looked up at him meekly. Aidan could feel himself getting angrier by the second. Her lips had turned blue, and her skin was pale; she looked like she would collapse at any moment, and heavens knew what would have happened if he had not arrived when he did! Or, God forbid, if he had left her until the next morning.