Page 11 of In Bed with her Highland Foe

Gilchrist thought back to the moment. It was possible he had wanted to use the weapon. He had felt such a surge of anger at seeing Laird Shay Lamont again, he hadn’t been thinking straight.

He’d mostly thought of Kyven. He thought of sweet Kyven, who liked to paint in the quiet library, being courted by the brash and vain Laird Shay.

Nature argues against it. He willnae get near Kyven!

“Who is he?” Aaden asked again, calmly now.

Gilchrist turned to face Aaden. If he told the truth, he stood every chance of being thrown out not only of the castle, but the clan. Yet the reasons to stay silent were now fading.

Shay had first blackmailed Michael into leaving so he could get his hands on Elisa. Now, Elisa was lost to them all. It meant he could go back to his brothers, and apologize for the pain he had caused all those years ago, but could he go?

Nay. I cannae leave Kyven here alone with a man like that.

“I hazard a guess that yer thoughts are currently as turbulent as this wind.” Aaden gestured to the window as it rattled in its frame because of the wind. “It may help tae talk about it with someone.” Aaden snatched the cup away before Gilchrist could drink anymore from it.

“That’s me whisky.”

“And I am the one pouring it. Ye want more? Come on, out with the truth.”

“Ye will nae like it,” Gilchrist said, grimacing as he sat down in the chair on the other side of the table to Aaden.

“I’ll accept it. Come on, Captain Gilchrist.”

“Tae start…” Gilchrist held his breath. “Ye may want tae hold off addressing me by that name.” Aaden paused, no longer topping up the cups. “Me name isnae Gilchrist. It’s Michael. Michael Gregor.”

The bottler slipped out of Aaden’s hand and smashed on the ground.

“Ridiculous council,” Kyven muttered angrily under her breath as she left the council rooms and hastened through the castle. It seemed that after having seen Laird Shay Lamont, the men of the council were even more eager than before for her to marry him. He was impressive to look at, a man who carried weapons at his hip and clearly knew how to fight.

They want a warrior laird.

“This is mad. I have only met the man once!” Kyven had to talk about it with someone. There was always Helen, but Helen seemed to have a preoccupation with talking about the marriage bed today, and Kyven had no wish to think about Laird Shay and a bed. No, she would need to talk to someone else for some good advice.

She headed to the library. It was late enough in the afternoon that it wouldn’t be unusual to find Gilchrist in there. As she opened the door though, the scent of the books filled the air, but there was no candle there to greet her, nor a flame in the hearth. The box chair where Gilchrist usually sat was empty.

Where are ye, Gilchrist?

She sat down in his chair, knowing it would rile him to have her there, though he would never tip her out of it as she was the lady of the clan. She waited, watching the sun disappear past the window as afternoon drew on and the winter night came in thick and fast. She lit a candle to keep her company as darkness fell, praying Gilchrist would come soon, but he never did.

The room stayed empty and cold.

Closing her eyes, Kyven sat back in the chair and thought of what she had seen in Gilchrist that day. She thought of his expression when Laird Shay had bowed to her – anger. It was unmistakable now she thought back to it, though it had been hard to discern at the time. Then there was the panic as Aaden held him back, the balled fists at his side as if he might lash out any second.

The expression that was imprinted in her mind the most, however, was when he had placed his hand on her waist to steady the two of them in the feasting room, when they had collided. That expression was unreadable to her, even now. The eyes… they had been deep, staring at her as if some greater meaning was hidden within them, and his lips had been parted a little.

“What were ye thinking, Gilchrist?” she asked aloud as if one of the books he’d read in that room would come alive and give her the answer.

All remained silent.

“Well…” Aaden managed to say eventually.

Gilchrist had just finished explaining to Aaden exactly how he knew Shay. He’d explained how he was the younger brother of the Laird of the Gregors, how Shay had threatened to kill Elisa and his brothers if he didn’t leave, and how he had ended up there. He’d also explained how he had just found out that Elisa was dead.

“Well?” Gilchrist barked, repeating the word impatiently to have an answer from Aaden.

“Well, I owe ye a new bottle of whisky.” He pointed down at the smashed bottle that neither of them had attempted to retrieve.

“That is all ye can say?” Gilchrist stood once more, unable to stay sitting. “After all I have told ye, ye simply bemoan the loss of a good drink?”