AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter 7
Fia rode as fast as she could to the secret garden, hoping to get there and back before her cousins or sister realized she had left. If they found her missing, they were sure to come after her.
They wouldn’t agree with her about meeting with the Highlander who had escaped. Fia didn’t care. She had to do this. Alastair must need her if he sent the message. Instead of having returned to Scotland, for some reason he was still here.
Fia only hoped she could convince him to stop by the Gordon Clan and help protect her family. She had a bad feeling about the attack by the English and needed all the comfort she could get to know her loved ones and clan would not be in harm’s way. But would he do it? She wondered. She could only hope he was thankful enough that he would agree to help her in return.
She entered the secret garden, feeling the dense air all around her. The place was no longer inviting and magical like it was when Imanie was alive. Now, it was gloomy and a little scary as well. The day was dreary. It looked as if it were about to rain. She didn’t see Alastair or a horse anywhere. Eyeing the gray clouds overhead, she decided to go back to the castle.
As she turned around, she stopped short, seeing Alastair entering the garden on his horse.
“Alastair,” she called out, making her way toward him. “I got the bracelet and the message. Thank ye.” She held up her wrist to show him the bracelet that she proudly wore. “How are ye feelin’?”
“My side is sore and some of the stitches need replacin’.” So he did need help, just like she thought.
“I can help ye,” she said, eagerly hopping off her horse. “Is that why ye sent me the message with the peasant boy?”
Alastair wasn’t planningon telling Fia the real reason he sent the message. Something in her bright green eyes drew him in, making him want to not only see her again, but also kiss her. He had been attracted to the lass since he first saw her in the woods years ago. She wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before. She was brave, yet meek at the same time. And her demeanor told him she wasn’t as afraid of him as were her cousins or sister.
“Nay, that’s no’ why I sent ye the message,” he ended up saying. “It’s because . . . because I never properly thanked ye for helpin’ me.”
“Oh. I see. Well, it was the least I could do.” She straightened the crown on her head as if she wanted to make sure he saw it. Not that he could miss that big, ornate thing. “After all, ye saved my life as well as returned my crown. Why was that?”
The reason he saved her life years ago, besides not wanting to kill a woman, was because her heart brooch intrigued him. It brought back memories of something that happened to him that raised questions he’d been desperately trying to find the answers to for many years. Nay, he couldn’t allow her to be hurt, and he couldn’t steal from her either. After his experience, it just wouldn’t feel right. “I suppose I was too mesmerized by yer bonnie reid tresses to think straight. My clan dinna agree that I gave back to ye such an expensive item. The amount of coin from the crown alone could have fed our clan for several winters.”
Her cheeks looked rosy, and she seemed full of life. “Come. Let me sew up yer wound again. The needle and thread are in the cottage.”
Alastair looked over his shoulder toward the gate. His men would be done soon, so he couldn’t tarry. There was no telling if Brohain would want to kill Fia again and steal her crown once he saw her here unprotected. Then again, his side did need stitching. Not to mention, he wanted to spend a few more minutes with Fia.
“Aye, but we need to make it fast.”
“Why?” asked Fia as they headed for the cottage. “Lord Beaufort and most of his best warriors have already left to help King Richard. They willna bother ye.”
“Aye,” he said with a nod, not wanting to tell her that at this very minute his men were rescuing the prisoners from her half-guarded dungeon.
“Sit on the bed,” she instructed, fetching the needle and thread. She looked around and frowned. “I will need to go to the creek to get water to cleanse yer wound.” She started to turn toward the door, but he reached out and took her wrist to stop her.
Bright green eyes stared up at him, her smile disappearing quickly. Perhaps, she still held a little fear toward him after all.
“Dinna worry, I willna hurt ye,” he promised. “Just sew me up. We dinna need water.”
“If ye’re sure,” she said, sitting on a chair opposite him to thread the needle. She took the thread between her lush lips and sucked on the end, about driving him out of his mind. He imagined her doing that to him instead. Instantly, he felt his body stir beneath his plaid.
“Where did ye get that crown?” he asked, staring at the top of her head as she bent over and stuck the needle through his skin. He winced, but held back the pain, not wanting to look weak in her eyes.
“It was once Queen Philippa’s. Before she died, she left crowns for me as well as for two of my cousins.”
“An English queen left a Scot a crown? I dinna understand.”
“There is a little more to it than that,” she said, tying a knot and leaning over to break the thread with her teeth.
The smell of lilacs and fresh air wafted from her body, making him want to touch her. Slowly, he reached out and caressed a lock of her long, red hair between his fingers. It felt silky. Desire coursed through him, making him want to smell it too.
She sat up and blinked twice. Her eyes sought out his, holding curiosity as well as a little excitement mixed with fear. Mesmerized by her beauty, his mouth went dry. It was a chore to speak. All he could think of was pulling her into his arms and brushing his lips up against hers.
“Thank ye,” he finally managed to spit out.
He noticed her staring at his mouth now, and her reply wasn’t above a whisper. “Ye dinna have to thank me. I feel as if I owe it to ye.”
