Chapter 40

On a stunning autumn afternoon of bright sunlight and brisk wind, I sat in the grass in a meadow outside the castle walls. Braiding flowers into my hair and feeling quite foolish, I giggled to myself in a blissful, contented way.

A few yards away, a roaring bonfire danced and snapped as the wind tore through its flames. Pigs, chickens, and ducks turned on spits over the coals. Their juices crackled and steamed as they dripped into the ashes. The smell of roast meat and fat was as intoxicating as the barrels of wine and beer scattered across the tables. Here and there, crystal decanters of amber liquor were set out for those wishing for something a bit more serious. Sunlight refracted through the glass with bright rainbows that flickered like spirits.

Hundreds roamed about, laughing, drinking, and dancing. I had declared the day a holiday; a reward for a bountiful harvest. Everyone was commanded to relax and celebrate.

Having partaken of one too many glasses of wine myself, I sought the quiet solicitude of the soft, sun-warmed grasses and wildflowers of the meadow. Seasonal blooms in bright oranges, dusky purples, and moody yellows surrounded me and floated in the air. The din of revelry sang on the breeze and the world was lovely in that hazy state between being tipsy and outright drunk. My fulfillment was limitless.

Bess and Wallis danced in a circle with other women and children bedecked in garlands of pine and marigolds. A troupe of players forced them ever faster, speeding up the tempo of the song until they collapsed in piles of breathless laughter.

I smiled stupidly as I watched Alex approach, leaving his perch by the fire where he sat with the newly minted shepherds. Innis, ever displeased, had been scolding them on a shoddy job done in herding Stormway's first flock. Ellesmure boys and girls did not have sheep in their blood and hearts to a level that pleased our Miss McClurkin. Over the past few months, her elegant demeanor had cracked. Now, ink streaked up her hands and stained her cuffs and cheeks. Souvenirs from her long days and nights spent copying and compiling records. She had stopped powdering her hair, opting instead to smooth her bright mane into a low bun. The longer she lingered at Stormway, the more primitive she became. I wasn't so sure that was a bad thing. From a distance, where one could be spared her disdain, it was fun to watch her face twist and grimace between defeat and passion as she talked.

Missing from the party was Calum, who had returned to the Northern Isles to oversee winter preparations and sift through Istimere's libraries for advantageous information. According to his latest letter, there were already six feet of snow and several documents that proved "unusual" enough to send under armed guard. Though, I'm sure the escort was solely for the sake of extravagance.

As he got closer, Alex seemed to glow. A trick of the sunlight shining behind him caused a golden halo to shimmer around him. He arrived at my side and sat down on the grass with a groan.

"You ran away from the party," he chided.

"I thought it might be unseemly it if the Laird appeared drunk."

"Not only is that the very definition of how a Laird should appear, Eilean, but you are also still in sight."

"Oh," I marveled. His reasoning was sound.

"Is being drunk worse than looking like a recluse?" His eyes sparkled as he teased me. So clear, so blue. So full of warmth despite the frosty serenity of their color.

Looking at him was intoxicating enough, and doing so doubled my feelings of languid contentment. I rolled my eyes at his scolding and placed the flower crown I had just finished atop his radiant head.

"You jest, Lord Leslie, but what you do not know is that I have started a new party out here in this field. The invitation list is quite exclusive."

"And what might one have to endure to be included?" He asked, his voice low. His forehead pressed into mine and he smiled. His skin was warm from the fire and his cheeks were rosy from wine.

When I was incapable of an answer, Alex turned and picked a crocus, offering it to me. "Please accept this humble bribe."

"I suppose that will work," I said, accepting the bloom and tucking it into my bodice. Caught up in the festive spirit, I had exchanged my now-expected pants for a brand new dress of cozy, sage wool.

Alex laughed and lay down in the grass, stretching out his limbs as he rested his head on criss-crossed arms.

Observing him, I decided that position looked quite comfortable, so I copied it, relaxing beside him on the ground and gazing up into the heart-wrenchingly pretty blue sky. Fluffy clouds drifted across the expanse. I closed my eyes and enjoyed how the sun warmed my face. The breeze ruffled my hair. A glow of gratitude sprung to life in my chest and expanded within my whole body, making my fingers and toes tingle. Emboldened by the emotion, I turned to my side and propped my head on my fist. I looked down at Alex, his long lashes fluttering against sun-kissed cheeks.

"Alex," I said, "I have never thanked you. For saving us, that is. For saving me."

"You have not, that is correct," he drawled, the faintest of smiles toying at his lips.

I trailed my fingers across his cheeks, drawn in by his nearness. He kept his eyes closed, giving me a semi-private moment of vulnerability.

"Maybe I never thanked you because I don't know how," I whispered. "Words make what I feel sound paltry." It was not such a struggle to understand the tenderness and affection I felt for him. It washed over me with an urgency and fervor. Goosebumps prickled across my skin and I had to clear my throat.

Alex opened his eyes. The emotion within them was overwhelming. A fierce hope. "Try."

"We were going to die," I said, using the strength of his gaze as a lifeline to grasp. "Everything that could have gone wrong did. We were on the brink of disaster. And now... I look around and see everything you've done. Everything we accomplished together. You made life possible, made it worth living. And I don't know how to thank you, or show you, or tell you how it feels to know you are here for me. For us."

My heart hammered in my chest. Breathing was a chore. There was nothing in the world for me outside of my words, his face, and the heat of his chest under my hand. I had reached out and pressed my palm to his heart.

Alex rolled over onto his side, meeting me face-on. He reached for my hip, squeezing it in support. Gently, he intertwined his fingers with mine.

"I would never have dreamed of refusing your plea, or you, ever." He said with sincerity. "As soon as I got your letter, I sprang into action. It was as if my life had purpose and direction at last. I was a man without a destination. A Lord and heir, yes. But lost. You provided the map that showed me where I needed to be."

Alex pulled our clasped hands to his lips and kissed the back of my knuckles. "When I saw you... when you came out of the castle..." He choked on the pain of his memories. Sadness lanced his expression and tears swam in his eyes. "Your dress was in tatters, Eilean. Your face was so gaunt, so colorless..."

He looked away to clear his throat. When he met my eyes again, there was an intensity to him that made me move closer, desperate to be near him.

"I thought —" He shook his head, stopping himself from saying what he was about to. "I would do anything to keep from seeing you like that again, Eilean. I would do anything for you."

Alex's expression was so unguarded, so full of feeling, that I could barely breathe. I licked my lips, feeling parched and unmoored. I wanted to kiss him, to hold him, to damn the gossip and the onlookers and claim him for my own. What was stopping me from dragging him to the priest — laughing near one of the kegs — and demanding this instant that Alex become my husband?

But I reined in that desire. Hesitated. Rationalized that I was tipsy, overcome with emotion, obviously not thinking clearly. The lure of my responsibilities to this land, these people, this estate, was too strong.

And there was something else. A darker, deeper fear. An old wound left behind in a battered heart that festered and groaned whenever anyone would dare approach too closely. I knew lust, and I knew desire. Friendship and camaraderie came easily. Did I know anything of love? Or had that been robbed of me as a child? The last lingering stain of my neglect.

Aware of the pause lingering between us, I panicked and diverted the conversation away from confessions.

Joking it off, I said, "It's good you will do anything for me, Alex, because we have to take inventory on the wheat stock tomorrow and I don't want to be the only one stuck counting bushels."

There was no missing the pinch of hurt on Alex's face before he rolled back onto the grass with a sigh. He still held my hand to his heart, but a coldness settled between us.

I hated myself for the deflection. Eager to see it right, I nuzzled up beside him, resting my head on his shoulder. Without hesitation, his arm cocooned me, holding me secure against his side.

"I feel it, I just don't know how to say it," I confided. Whispering this last secret between us into his neck.

In response, he held me tighter. It was enough. He knew, and he accepted.

~

We spent the rest of the afternoon in the meadow. Finding shapes in the clouds and enjoying the rare experience of each other's company without the demands of work pressing us to make conversations short and efficient. As the sun set, we walked back to the bonfire, driven to its warmth by the twin discomforts of hunger and cold air. Bedecked in flower garlands and enrobed in the change my pitiful admittance had bought, we dared approach the crowd holding hands. The first step toward another kind of declaration.

Drunk servers shoved heavy plates of food into our hands and we sat around the fire trading stories and laugher with the people of Ellesmure.

The food, the fire, Wallis' pleasant weight on my lap warmed me. Alex sat securely to one side of me, Bess on the other. The sense of accomplishment and rightness settled over me. I might have been touched enough to feel at home, at last, in the only place I had ever known. Even Innis looked to be enjoying herself, coaxed enough by drink and company to lower her guard. She sat forehead to forehead with a wiry, intense woman I recognized as the daughter of one of my mother's old ladies. They shared smiles and laugher, their eyes glowing in the firelight.

Wallis looked at me, half a sticky bun finished in her hand. Her cheeks were dusted with sugar paste and crumbs. "I love you, Eilean," she said with all the earnestness of innocence.

The proclamation, unprompted, made me feel simultaneous warmth and fear. Far too similar to the scene in the meadow hours ago. The same cold darkness filled my heart, familiar and destructive. Once again, I was incapable of returning the sentiment. I nodded and smiled at her in reply.

Wallis lacked the nuance of age to feel the sting of my rejection, and she turned her attention back to her sweet without further thought.

This time, my deflection hit its mark inside me. I wished for the strength to claw the words I yearned to speak out of my throat. I thought them. I felt them. I just couldn't force them out. My fear — of what? What was there to fear? — was too confident a captor.

"Eilean?" I heard Alex ask.

I dragged myself out of my shame and back to reality. Alex now stood in front of me, looking down with bemused hesitation.

"Your eyes are as big as saucers," he said, chuckling. "What in the world are you thinking about?"

Troubled by my thoughts, I shook my head, attempting to clear them. "Nothing, I'm just tired."

Alex squatted before me, scanning my face. "You do look a bit worn out if you don't mind me saying so." He stood and offered me his hand. "Come, I will walk you back to the castle."

Scanning the surrounding crowd, I saw Bess chattering away. Innis and her friend sat closer than ever, sharing intense whispers. Wallis, long gone from my lap, was playing tag with a few other children, wild with the late hour and plentiful sweets.

Accepting his hand, I let Alex hoist me from my seat. We turned from the blaze, the heat of the fire leaving a chill in its wake. Ahead was nothing but darkness. A few flickering torchlights and a smattering of illuminated windows in the castle were our only beacons. Every other landmark was consumed by the night.

Protected by the anonymity of darkness, I was restless to overcome the clutches of my reticent tongue. Stopping Alex as we neared the castle, I held both of his hands in mine and looked up to the flickering outline of the man I knew so well. Wanted to know as well as myself.

"I would do anything for you, too," I whispered, gripping his hands tightly in my own. The ground pitched and swayed beneath me, but I had said it.

Radiant, he beamed as if I had given him an exquisite gift. Nothing left to say between us, he led me inside.