Page 19 of A Kilted Marriage of Convenience

"What is wrong with ye, lass? What dae ye think that ye are doing?" he asked in anger, not caring when she flinched lightly.

"What?" she asked, almost sounding confused, and Aidan scoffed.

"Why the devil are ye trying to kill yerself? I was told that ye didnae accept the food or the blanket. Are ye so stubborn that ye would rather harm yerself trying to prove a point instead of accepting the easy way out?"

“I… I…”

"If yer intention is to die simply because ye didnae get what ye wanted, then I am sorry to break it to ye, but ye willnae die here. Nae on my watch! I didnae jump into that freezing water only for ye to die in my home. From the cold no less!" he said softly.

Aidan grabbed her gently and began walking toward the entrance of the dungeons, leading Ciara to her room, not caring that she was struggling to keep up with his quick pace. Soon they reached her chamber, and he went straight to stoke the fire. Softly, he took her by the arms and helped her sit before the flames, wrapped in his robe.

"Ye are so damn stubborn. Ye have won, alright? That is what ye wanted, is it nae? I’ll nae place anyone in the room. I hope ye are happy now." And with one last scowl, Aidan walked out of the room and slammed the door shut. He could not help but wonder if that was what she had wanted.

To die so she did not have to be a captive anymore. His captive. Well, too bad. Ye are stuck here with me, and ye willnae be going anywhere.

* * *

Ciara felt warmth spreading over her body as her shock and anger grew bigger by the second. How dare the laird drag her all the way from the dungeons to the room like a sack of flour! She moved from the seat he had deposited her in, and his robe almost slipped from her shoulders.

Maybe I overreacted, she thought as she touched the warm garment. He was angry, she was certain of that, yet he had not hit her or seemed threatening in any way. Instead he seemed like he was angry because he was worried about her. What a peculiar feeling—having someone worry about ye.

Ye win.

She smiled as she remembered Aidan's words. He was right, of course. He thought he was stubborn, but clearly, she was even stubborner. Ciara let out a humorless laugh as she thought about him.

Aidan was a kinder man than he pretended to be. Beneath his hard exterior lay a soft heart that could not bear to see even a captive suffer, despite the fact that she was related to the man who had caused him pain.

Her laughter died in her throat at the thought of her father. Even when she was not under his roof and he could not punish her, she was still affected by his actions.

He looked up in surprise when the door to her room creaked open. She watched as Aidan made his way over to her with a steaming bowl of something.

"Here ye go. Drink up," he said begrudgingly, placing the bowl in her hands. He stared at her with an expression that showed he clearly was not in the mood for an argument.

Ciara took the bowl from him and drank, not even asking what it was. She had angered him enough for one night. She looked up at him as she lifted the bowl to her mouth, and she noticed how intently he watched her. A smile graced her lips, and she was glad that she had the bowl to hide from him, lest he ask her what she found so funny. How was she to tell him that, despite what he had led her to believe, she knew he was a kind-hearted person? Ciara doubted he would take it as a compliment, especially not after he had lost to her.

She struggled to hold back a sigh as the contents of the bowl immediately warmed her insides and left her feeling satiated. She was about to thank him when he spoke, a slightly smug look on his face.

"There, now I ken ye decided to reject the food I had offered ye earlier because ye are too stubborn to ken when to reject help and when to accept it," he said.

Ciara drank the rest of her broth quickly because she was actually hungry. When she was finally full, she stared at the fire and put the empty bowl on the floor.

The laird was right: it was her stubbornness that had made her refuse his help.

She had gone willingly to the cells, and her thoughts at the time had been that if he wanted to punish her, he should do it properly instead of sending her food and blankets. She was the daughter of the man who has brought so much misery into Aidan’s life. It seemed she was more stubborn than he was petty, as he had come and rescued her. He took her safety seriously, for whatever reason. That much seemed to be clear.

Aidan bent down to pick up the bowl, and she mumbled under her breath, “Thank ye.”

For everything.