Temptation in a Kilt (18 page)

His head was leaned back and his eyes were closed. Slowly and hazily, he opened his eyes and smiled. “I think it best if ye sit in the chair, Rosalia.”

Out of all the responses she thought to get, that was not one of them.

She sat in the chair, and began, “Ciaran, I do trust ye. I have caused ye enough concern and if I speak to ye on this matter, I may bring naught but trouble to your door.”

Pausing, he gazed at her speculatively. “And why donna ye let me decide? I am listening, sweeting,” he said gently.

She cast her eyes downward, playing with the fabric of her skirts. “I will speak with ye as long as ye promise me we will
speak
on this and ye willnae bellow at me. I will have your word, Ciaran MacGregor.”

“Ye have my word.”

***

When Ciaran watched Rosalia cower before him, he had to willfully rein his temper. After all he had been though with her, it infuriated him that she would think he would strike her. When she explained she did not shy away from him intentionally, he felt some relief. At least they were speaking now. He knew he would have the tale of what was troubling her eventually.

It took nearly an hour’s time for him to pull the entire tale from her. He was aware that Beathag had played her tricks, but he had had no idea she would threaten Rosalia. This changed matters completely. As promised, he did not bellow. He merely sat and listened while Rosalia spoke of Beathag’s tangled web. In fact, his only thought was that Beathag would be removed and banished from Glenorchy. Where she traveled, he cared not. He looked forward to having such a conversation. After all, he did give her fair warning and he was a man of his word.

“Ciaran, ye have barely spoken. Will ye tell me what ye are thinking?”

He frowned. “What I am thinking? My thoughts are quite clear, I assure ye. Beathag will be removed from Glenorchy.” He would see to it that Rosalia no longer had to worry about her.

She stirred uneasily in the chair. “But Dunnehl’s men—”

“Arenae your concern. I told ye nay harm will come to ye while ye are within my walls.”

Rosalia’s eyes widened with concern. “Aye, but ye cannae stop them from coming to your gates. I am concerned for
ye
, Ciaran.” Glancing down, she studied her hands. “Mayhap we should travel to Glengarry soon and I can seek protection from my family. I cannae put ye and your family in danger.”

He rose and knelt down before her. Clutching her hand, he raised it tenderly to his lips. “Nay one threatens me or mine. Ye are under my protection, and I will see to it that nay harm comes to ye.”

Pushing him away, she jerked to her feet with a purpose. “I release ye from any duty ye feel toward me.”

He laughed as if sincerely amused. “Release me? What is this ye speak?” He stood up and folded his arms over his chest.

She took an abrupt step toward him. “Ye found me and cared for me. Ye offered to escort me to Glengarry. Ye donna have a duty to protect me, Ciaran MacGregor.”

He mimicked her stance. “I donna have a
duty
to protect ye, Rosalia Armstrong. I do so willingly.” He had to admit that he did not understand where any of this was coming from. Why would she even think he would not offer her protection?

She swiveled quickly, turning her back on him. Approaching the window, she stared blankly out at the loch. “Why?”

He came close and turned her toward him. His fingers trailed down her temple. “Ye donna know?” he asked searchingly.

Rosalia cleared her throat, pretending not to be affected. “Nay, I donna.”

Slowly and seductively, his gaze slid downward. “I… care for ye.”

A look of disappointment passed over her features. “As ye cared for Beathag?” she asked thickly.

Ciaran straightened to his full height as if he’d received a strong blow across the face. “I didnae care for Beathag.”

“Pray excuse me if I donna understand, my laird. Ye say ye didnae care for Beathag, but ye speak the same words to me as ye spoke to her,” she said in a clipped tone.

“Pray excuse me if I donna understand, my lady. I tell ye I didnae care for Beathag, but ye donna trust the words I speak,” he repeated in the same clipped tone.

Rosalia’s eyes were clouded with tears. “Ciaran, she said ye told her she was beautiful, and ye tell me the same,” she cried, wiping her falling tears. “I donna understand why ye would tell me. She
is
beautiful and I know I donna look… as her.”

This was her concern? Rosalia was nothing like Beathag. Why would she ever compare herself with her? How in the hell could he make her understand the difference? He placed his head to hers. “What men speak in the throes of passion are simply empty words to satisfy their lust. What a man speaks to someone he loves are meaningful words to bring her into his heart.” Pulling back, Ciaran smiled, wiping her falling tears. “Donna ye know ye are in my heart, sweeting? I lov… er, care for ye deeply and ye
are
beautiful.”

Ciaran swung open the bedchamber door. If Seumas was surprised to see him in Rosalia’s chamber, his expression did not show it. “My laird, two riders are at the front gates and insist to speak with only ye. They also have a woman traveling with them.”

“Aye.” Ciaran turned his head around. “Ye stay here until I speak to ye otherwise.” His voice was low and commanding.

The man simply muddled Rosalia’s mind. Now that he took his leave, she was on safer ground and could pull her drifting thoughts together. She could not keep doing this. She had left Mangerton to create a new life, and she could not do it successfully if she kept dwelling upon the future or the past. She needed to stay focused on the present to put things into perspective. Although Ciaran spoke the words, they were only that—words. She needed to cease analyzing everything.

Seumas appeared at the door to her bedchamber with a grim look upon his face. “My lady, our laird requests your presence in his solar at once.”

“Of course, Seumas. Is everything all right?” She was unable to mask the nervousness in her voice.

He escorted her down the hall. “I donna know, my lady.”

Seumas knocked on the solar door and Ciaran bade him enter. Opening the door, Seumas gave her a reassuring smile.

“Lass, there is someone here to see ye.” Ciaran’s smile was almost apologetic.

He stepped aside as Duncan and Ealasaid rose from their chairs. “Och, lass.
Ciamar
a
tha
sibh
?”
How
are
you?
Ealasaid cried. Her face split into a wide grin, and then Rosalia ran into her arms and wept aloud with relief. Ealasaid was everything that was good and pure in this world, and her mere presence brought Rosalia the support she so desperately needed. She did not even realize how much she had needed her until now.

Ealasaid rubbed her hand over Rosalia’s short tresses. “There, there, lassie. Ealasaid is here,” she spoke in a soft and clear, soothing voice.

A strong hand rubbed Rosalia’s back as she reluctantly pulled away, wiping her tears. Those same hands turned her and pulled her into a crushing embrace. “Duncan,” Rosalia cried.

He held her the circle of his arms. “Och, lass. ’Tis so good to see ye. We have missed ye overmuch.”

Giving them both a warm smile, Rosalia embraced them again at the same time. She did not want to let them go. “I am so joyful to see ye, but I donna understand how ye are here.”

Ciaran placed his hand on her shoulder. “’Tis a long tale. Why donna we all sit, and Duncan will explain.” Ciaran gestured to the chairs, and everyone composed themselves and took their seats. Pulling her cut tresses away from her face, Rosalia tucked unruly strands behind her ear. She must look quite the sight.

Clearing his throat, Duncan spoke hesitantly. “Lass, ’tis nay easy way to speak what I must, but I will try.” There was a pensive shimmer in the shadow of his eyes. Giving him a reassuring smile, she nodded for him to continue. Wiping his brow, he cast a nervous glance. “When James returned with Lord Dunnehl’s men…” He paused, looking away from her.

As his expression darkened with an unreadable emotion, Rosalia stirred uneasily in the chair. “Duncan, what has happened? Is James well?” Her voice faded into a hushed whisper.

“James is fine, lass.” He hesitated another moment and his face was closed. “Lord Dunnehl became enraged when they couldnae find ye and accused your father of trying to cheat him out of coin. He… your father is dead, lass,” Duncan said solemnly.

The color drained from her face. “What?” she exclaimed, rubbing her hand over her forehead. Her father was dead—dead because Dunnehl killed him and dead because of her. She stammered in bewilderment. “
Tha
mi
duilich
.”
I
am
sorry.

Strong arms pulled her up and embraced her. “Rosalia,” Ciaran murmured. “’Tisnae your fault, sweeting.” He rubbed her back. “’Tis but what happens when you try to make a deal with the
Diabhal.
”
Devil.

Her mind was spinning. “
Chan
eil
mi
a’ tuigsinn
.”
I
do
not
understand.
“Why would Dunnehl kill Father?
I
am the one who ran and
I
am the one…”

Ealasaid rose, placing her hand at Rosalia’s back. “Och, lassie. Ye arenae at fault. Ye know there was nay coin in the coffers, and your father and mother would have done anything to fill them. If it wasnae your father, it would have been ye—of that, I have nay doubt, my sweet lass.”

Ciaran gently rubbed Rosalia arms. “Look at me,” he said in a calming voice. “
Tha
mi
duilich
, Rosalia, but I know what ye are thinking and I want ye to cease. Ye arenae at fault. Ye knew ye couldnae stay there as much as ye couldnae have wed Dunnehl.” His gaze was steady.

She nodded her head, in a daze. “I know, but I cannot fathom that my father was killed by the English beast. I didnae think he would hold Father responsible for—”

“Duncan, there is ale on the stand,” Ciaran interrupted, nodding toward the stand.

Placing her head to Ciaran’s chest, Rosalia closed her eyes and his comforting arms encircled her. Her collectedness was cracking. When Ciaran pulled back, Duncan handed her the ale. Slumping down on the chair, she gulped a healthy, burning mouthful. Perhaps the fiery liquid would take away the numbness she felt.

“Easy, lass,” murmured Duncan.

Rosalia laughed. “’Tis Ciaran’s own ale. I am quite used to it, I assure ye.” Ciaran rubbed her shoulder, and spoke in hushed tones to Duncan.

“If there is more, my laird, I will hear it. Ye donna have to shelter me,” she chided him.

He watched her with a critical squint. “Are ye sure? Ye have been through—”

“I am sure.” Turning to Duncan and Ealasaid, Rosalia gestured for them to sit. “Please, ye have traveled far to see me. I will be fine.”

Duncan and Ealasaid reluctantly sat down. Duncan hesitated before he spoke. “When James returned with Lord Dunnehl’s men, he discovered your father’s body. Lord Dunnehl had already taken his leave and left word for his men to return to Northumberland. He doesnae search for ye.”

Clearing his throat, Duncan wiped his brow. “Your father repaid his debt with his lifeblood, lass. The remainder of your father’s men disbanded, and there was only Ealasaid and me. James sent us straight away to ye and had one of his trusted men escort us. He has already taken his leave. James told me that ye were here with Laird MacGregor at Glenorchy. He didnae want to take a chance he was being watched so he sent us to deliver this message.

“He will ensure Lord Dunnehl nay longer searches and will meet ye at Glengarry in the spring when ’tis safe for him to travel to ye.” Duncan turned toward Ciaran. “And if Laird MacGregor will have us, we will travel to Ealasaid’s sister in the spring.”

Ciaran nodded. “Ye are welcome to stay at Glenorchy for as long as ye wish.”

Perhaps it was her own uneasiness, but something was missing in Duncan’s words. “And what of Mother?” Everyone turned to stare at her with blank expressions. Something cautioned Rosalia not to ask, but she must know the truth—all of it. She turned to Ealasaid, repeating the question.

Ealasaid played with the fabric of her skirts, then gave her a sympathetic smile. “She is with Lord Dunnehl, lass.” She spoke sympathetically and cast her eyes downward.

She gasped. “The
beast
took my mother? He killed my father and
took
my mother?” Rosalia jerked to her feet and started to pace.

Ealasaid gave her a sheepish grin. “Nay, lassie. Your mother went willingly.”

She stopped dead in her tracks. “She
what
?” she bellowed. “She went with him
willingly
? That English cur killed my father, and my mother went
willingly
with the man who had killed my father. Is that what ye are telling me?”

“I think Rosalia has had enough,” Ciaran interjected.

She whipped around and glared at him. “Och, nay. I will have the entire tale, Ciaran.” She turned back to Ealasaid, who was studying her skirts and would not lift her eyes to hers. She certainly did not want to frighten Ealasaid, but she needed the truth and she would have it.

Raising her head, Ealasaid glanced at Rosalia with compassion. “Aye, lassie. She claimed there was naught more she could do at Mangerton and wanted to go back to England.”

Rosalia could not think through the blood pounding in her ears. Ciaran opened the door to his solar, ordering someone to show Ealasaid and Duncan to their rooms.

Duncan approached her, placing his hand to her shoulder in a fatherly gesture. “Ye are safe now, lass. ’Tis all that matters.”

“Aye, lassie. Ye rest and come see us later,” said Ealasaid, giving her a look of comfort.

Rosalia embraced them both. “My apologies. I am glad ye are both here and safe. I will speak with ye later.” She embraced them both again. “I am truly joyful ye are both here.”

***

Ciaran ordered Seumas to have one of the maids fetch Rosalia’s cloak. The lass stood in front of him looking so lost and alone. He was not sure how to comfort her. Although she had been mistreated by her father, he was still her father nonetheless. She should mourn his passing, but Ciaran would not allow her to blame herself. Her sire chose his own fate. He never respected a man who raised his hand to a woman or sat by while someone else did harm.

He smiled his thanks when the maid returned with Rosalia’s cloak. His memory strayed as he remembered the pain he had felt at the loss of his own father.

He gently wrapped the cloak around her shoulders. “Come, sweeting,” he said tenderly. He pulled her close to his side, and they walked together. He led Rosalia to the parapet, hoping fresh air would bring her some relief. She stared blankly out at the loch, and he was caught off guard by the sudden vigorousness in her voice.

“I always wanted to travel to the Highlands, but I ne’er expected such an adventure,” she said solemnly.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him. He kissed the top of her head.

“I cannae believe my father is dead, let alone that my mother went with my father’s murderer.”

He squeezed her shoulder. “Your father and mother made their choices, lass. Ye needed to make yours and ye did what ye had to, Rosalia.” Turning her to face him, Ciaran smiled gently. “I know ye are distraught and ye have reason to mourn your father, but ye donna have reason to blame yourself. I willnae allow it,” he ordered, brushing his fingers lightly on her cheek.

She smiled. “Ye know ye can be verra persuasive, my laird.”

“So ye have said,” he whispered, lowering his head and brushing a soft kiss on her lips.

Wrapping her arms around him, Rosalia nestled her head into his chest. “Ciaran, I feel so many ways. I donna know what to do. I cannae think clearly.”

He placed his chin on the top of her head. “Let me help ye. Let me be here for ye. Let me share your burden, but donna close yourself from me.”

She sighed. “I struggle with the words ye speak. Ye
are
laird and are already burdened. Ye donna need me as well. Isnae Declan burden enough?”

Ciaran chuckled. “There is that, but I want ye to think upon this.” He paused, placing his lips close to her ear. “I am stuck with Declan, but I
choose
ye.”

Pulling away, she glanced at him searchingly. “And I choose ye, Ciaran MacGregor. If I am thankful for anything that has happened of late, ’tis that I met ye. Ye are a great and honorable man.”

He knew his face colored and he turned his head away from her. After all, he was a Highland laird, a warrior. “Come now before ye swell my head.”

***

Rosalia ate her meal in her bedchamber. She should have been more attentive to Ealasaid and Duncan after they had traveled so far, but she could not bring herself to entertain them with pleasantries. She needed time to recover.

There was a knock at the door and Aisling entered. Giving Rosalia a sisterly embrace, she expressed sympathy for her father’s passing. “Come,” said Aisling, guiding her to the bed. “I know just what ye need.” Propping up pillows, they lounged casually upon the bed. “Now tell me, how do ye fare?” she asked with concern.

Rosalia leaned back and briefly closed her eyes. “I have seen better days. I assure ye.” She adjusted the pillows at her back. “I cannae yet believe my father was murdered and my mother—well, I donna even have the strength to put into words how I feel.”

“’Tis all right to be angry and hurt, Rosalia. Donna keep these feelings all to yourself lest ye go mad,” said Aisling, patting her on the leg.

“I know ye are right. I blame my father for many things, but he was still my father.”

Aisling grabbed her hand in a comforting gesture. “I understand. I think ye need to focus on the present. Ye are starting a new life. Look how far ye have come, Rosalia,” said Aisling in an encouraging tone.

“I actually had the same thoughts this morn. Ye are a wise woman. Thank ye for your counsel, Aisling.” She enjoyed having a woman she could speak with freely.

Aisling waved her off. “Please, we are as sisters. ’Tis but what we do. I almost forgot.” Leaning over the side of the bed, she pulled up a covered basket that Rosalia had not even noticed through her doldrums. Aisling uncovered the bundle and reached in. “I was instructed to give ye these.” She handed her a biscuit.

Rosalia grinned. “Ealasaid?” She took a bite, immediately knowing the source that created such splendid bliss. “Och, Ealasaid,” she moaned.

Grabbing another biscuit from the basket, Aisling pointed to Rosalia. “Donna keep them all to yourself,” she said, tossing a piece into her mouth. She moaned. “’Tis truly incredible,” she said, closing her eyes in enjoyment.

“What is truly incredible?” asked Ciaran, walking into the room through the adjoining door.

“Ye men,” Aisling smirked. “Always at hand when food is present, but if we need ye for something, ye arenae to be found.”