Page 4 of In Bed with her Highland Foe

“What is it, Kyven?” he whispered.

She startled, wondering if he had noticed just how much she was staring at him. It was a habit of hers, one she indulged in far too much.

He doesnae think of me in that way.

She turned her focus on the fire, watching as the yellow flames licked the wood.

“It’s just today,” she murmured with a sigh. “It’s been a busy day, going tae the mausoleum.”

“Ah.” He closed the book sharply and rubbed the brow of his forehead. “I’m sorry, Kyven. I didnae even think about what today is fer ye.”

“It doesnae matter.”

“Of course it matters.” He sighed and placed the book on the table beside him.

Turning in the chair to face her, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He came so close, her breath hitched in her throat. She wet her lips, trying her best not to think about his proximity, or how she felt a heat not just from the fire, but from him.

“How was it?” he asked, his voice soft.

“As it usually is,” she murmured. “Me father’s death… I feel the usual ache, the grief, the anger at the Gregors fer what they did tae him, although it was a long time ago now. But at least the sharpness of the pain isnae as bad as it once was.”

Gilchrist shifted in his seat. For a moment, she thought he was uneasy, but then she presumed it was just because the subject they were discussing was death.

Who could ever be easy when speaking of it?

“Hmm.” He nodded slowly. For a moment, she thought he might say more, perhaps speak of his own father. In all the time she had known him, he had never mentioned his own family. He must have had a father, but was he dead? Or was he still alive? And if so, why did Gilchrist never speak of him? “I am sorry,” he whispered to her. “I ken it is of little comfort, but it will get even easier in time. Trust me.”

Maybe his father is dead.

She was about to ask him. Was it so wrong to want to know something about Captain Gilchrist’s life after knowing him for eight years? She had first met him when she was scarcely more than a child, and he had appeared, acclaimed by the captain of their army at the time. Just a stranger, Gilchrist had come across some of his scouts on the road as they were being attacked by bandits. Stepping in and saving their lives had earned him such praise that he had been quickly enlisted in their own army and had advanced fast through the ranks to become their new captain.

That scrap of his life was all she knew of him, though she longed to know more. Yet she feared he would shut down and refuse to answer her if she asked more, as he had done in the past.

“It’s nae just that,” she said instead. “After what me family did recently, can ye blame me fer feeling a little… lost on a day like today?”

“Nae at all.” He slowly shook his head, turning his face to the fire and also staring at the flames. “Yer sister is gone though. She cannae hurt ye or anyone in this life again.”

“Aye. I ken.” Yet it was sometimes hard for Kyven to accept.

After her father had died, her uncle had come to take care of the clan. After his passing, the lairdship had been given to Kyven’s older sister, Imogen. A less loving sisterly relationship would be hard to find. Imogen had always blamed her for killing their mother in childbirth and so the women never got along.

When Imogen had become lady of the clan, she had lied about taking a husband, Elliot Sutherland. She blackmailed and manipulated him into doing her bidding by imprisoning his father, while keeping a lover by the name of Ossian Macauley. He was a foul man whose greed had been fanatical. In the end, both Ossian’s and Imogen’s greed and manipulative actions had seen them falling to the bottom of a cliff together.

A year had passed since then, but Kyven was still haunted by her elder sister dying in such a way. She was never sure whether to grieve her or not.

“Kyven?” Gilchrist’s deep voice called her back to the present, and she looked at him, turning her head his way. The heat he emanated made her warm again, and it somehow made it easier to forget the darkness of the past. “All will be well. I promise ye that.”

“How can ye ken that?” she asked, her voice shaking a little. “The council insist I marry, so a new laird can be found fer the clan.”

“There are some good things tae marriage,” he said, the smallest of smiles pulling at his lips.

“Ye mean like the happiness we have found in this room?” she asked, feeling brave but regretting the words a second later.

“Aye, maybe yer husband will read tae ye, as I dae.”

A sudden coldness washed over her body, and she looked away from him, into the flames.

He will never look at me as a possible wife.