Page 8 of A Kilted Marriage of Convenience

“So, ye did find me in the sea. Where am I now?” Ciara did as Maria said and took a sip of the hot liquid. It was sweet like honeyed tea, and it was just cool enough that it did not scald her tongue. She gulped it down hurriedly.

“Ye were found in the sea, but it was nae I who found ye. Ye have my laird to thank for that. Ye are in the MacDonald castle,” the woman explained.

Ciara was lucky to have just swallowed the last of the drink when she heard those words or she would most likely have spat it all out in shock. The MacDonald castle? That meant she had been saved by her father’s worst enemy, and the man whose sister she had helped save. Aidan MacDonald.

A shudder ran through her, though it did not feel like fear. Irony, perhaps. She wondered if he would hate her like he hated her father. Was she even safe?

She swung her legs out from under the covers of the bed, attempting to stand. That's when she realized she wasn't wearing her clothes. She stared at herself in disbelief as a breeze swept up her legs. She was dressed in a simple smock that only reached the middle of her thighs, leaving most of her legs exposed.

Her cheeks were flushed, and she was as red as her hair. Maria burst out laughing, apparently finding her reaction amusing. Ciara felt foolish for being embarrassed. Of course, the last thing that mattered was her attire! She couldn't have kept the clothes she was wearing when she was dragged in from the sea.

She sighed, trying to calm herself, and scanned the room for her clothes. She found them on the floor, albeit ripped beyond the point of repair. She had no choice but to remain in what she was wearing. She wrapped her arms around herself instead.

“Thank ye for saving me and nursing me back to health,” Ciara said.

The older woman waved her thanks off nonchalantly. “Nae need to thank me. I only dae as the laird orders, so ye should thank him,” Maria replied.

Ciara rubbed the cloth at her sides between her fingers nervously. “Am I allowed to leave?” she asked. Although she had no intentions of going home, she still needed to get to the nunnery. It would be bad if she was returned to her father. These people had no idea that she had run away from home.

Maria gave her a weak smile. “Unfortunately, nae my dear,” she said, causing Ciara to turn to her in alarm.

“I cannae? Why? Is there something wrong?” Her heart began to pound in her chest as she once again wondered whether she really was safe.

The woman was just about to respond when the door opened, and a huge figure stepped inside. Ciara’s words died in her mouth as she met a familiar gray gaze. Her heartbeat sped up. This was the man who had grabbed her the night she had helped Lillie MacDonald escape.

“I will take it from here, Maria. Thank ye,” he said, dismissing the healer.

Maria bowed and left the room. Ciara gulped as he maintained eye contact with her, walking further into the room until he was standing in front of her.

“I am Laird Aidan MacDonald. And ye’re nae going anywhere, lass. From now on, Ciara MacNeil, ye are my captive.”