A Promise in Midwinter (4 page)

..oo  Chapter Five  oo..

Elizabeth entered Lachlan’s chamber carrying a basket full of knitting.

She was pleased to
see that a healthy pallor colored Lachlan’s face.

A warm smile also
graced his handsome face.

Elizabeth’s heart
flip-flopped in her chest.

Lachlan
was happy to see her.

She sat the
knitting basket down on the chair beside Lachlan’s bed.  Elizabeth opened the
curtains, allowing midwinter sunlight to pour into the small chamber.

“Thank you,” Lachlan said as he propped himself up in the bed. 

“Tis the least
that I can do to allow some sunlight to reach you.  ‘Tis not right how you are
being kept as a prisoner.”

“Perhaps you are
the only one who shares my sentiment, but I thank ye,” Lachlan chuckled.  He
watched Elizabeth as she kindled his fire.  The sunlight lifted his spirits,
but in truth it was Elizabeth that made his heart soar. 
She
was the
sunlight in his day.  He looked forward to her daily visits, relishing the time
that they would spend together.

The thistle
prickled his palm.

His heart thudded
in his chest.

Lachlan said a
silent prayer that Elizabeth would not rebuke him.  He prayed that she felt the
same inexplicable attraction that he did.  He hoped that the longing in her
green eyes had not just been a figment of his imagination.

She was the
lass that sang to his soul
. 

Lachlan knew that
he had not been mistaken. 

Elizabeth was the
one.

Elizabeth settled
herself into the chair beside Lachlan’s bed.  She held the basket of knitting
on her lap and smiled devilishly at Lachlan.

“Do you care for
Shakespeare?” she asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Aye,” Lachlan nodded.  He delighted in the excitement that sparkled in Elizabeth’s eyes.

She dug in the
basket, moving aside knitting needles and balls of yarn.  Beneath the
unfinished projects and multi-colored spools of yarn, she had hidden a secret. 
A well-worn copy of
The Taming of the Shrew.

“Would you like me
to read it to you?” Lachlan asked.  He noted that Elizabeth held the book in
her hands reverently, as if it was her most valuable possession.  Books were
rare to come by, expensive and difficult to find in the Highlands.  Perhaps the
book
was
Elizabeth’s most valuable possession.

“Nay!” Elizabeth laughed.  “I had thought to read to you,” she smiled as she opened the book.

“You are able to
read?” Lachlan asked, his eyebrows arching in surprise.

“Aye,” Elizabeth said proudly.  “My mother taught me.”

“Tis a rare gift,”
Lachlan remarked.  “She was wise to teach her daughter such skills.”

“I wish that my
step-father shared your notions about women and reading!” Elizabeth exclaimed. 
“He says ‘tis a sin for a woman to read.  Last time he caught me, he…” Elizabeth trailed off, catching herself before yielding too much information to Lachlan.

“He what, lass?” Lachlan demanded.  His eyebrows were knit together in blatant disapproval.

“Nothing,” Elizabeth said, shaking her head.

“What did he do to
you?” Lachlan asked, the anger in his voice daring Elizabeth not to answer
him.  Elizabeth’s apparent fear of John Campbell made him hate the bastard even
more.  How could any man hurt sweet Elizabeth?

“He had me
beaten,” Elizabeth whispered, her eyes locking with Lachlan’s.

“And that did not
stop you from reading?”

“Nay, it did not
stop me.  It just taught me to be more careful,” Elizabeth said with a devious
smile. 

“Ye are a braw
lass,” Lachlan said, nodding in approval.

Elizabeth opened
the tome.

She started
reading the book from the beginning, unsure if Lachlan would be familiar with
the story.

 Elizabeth’s voice
was melodic as she read the words of William Shakespeare. The words were like
magic rolling off her tongue.  Lachlan watched her eagerly as she read, certain
that never in his life had he encountered such an intriguing woman as Elizabeth
Campbell.

The thistle
prickled the inside of Lachlan’s palm.

Today he would
give it to her, bearing his heart openly to her.

But first he would
listen to her read a bit more.  Lachlan reclined against the pillow and soon
found himself lost in the story of Katherine the shrew.  His eyes were trained
upon Elizabeth as she read.  He smiled as he watched her lovely face animate as
she spoke the lines of Shakespeare’s characters.

“This is one of my
favorite parts!” Elizabeth exclaimed excitedly.  Her eyes darted towards Lachlan’s to discover that he had been watching her as she read.  The look in his eyes
caused her heart to thunder.  Elizabeth smiled shyly and returned her eyes to
the book.

“Petruchio:  Come,
come you wasp; I’faith, you are too angry.

Katherine:  If I
be waspish, best beware my sting.

Petruchio: My
remedy is then, to pluck it out.”

Lachlan laughed, delighting
in the playful words.

Elizabeth smiled
at him and continued.

“Katherine:  Ay,
if the fool could find where it lies.

Petruchio:  Who
knows not where a wasp does wear his sting?  In his tail.

Katherine: In his
tongue.”

Elizabeth paused. 
“Can you imagine a lass so wicked as Katherine?”

“I’ve met one or
two,” Lachlan chuckled as he thought back to his younger years.

Just then, the
door burst open.

Elizabeth gasped
as Edith stormed into the chamber.  The book lay open in her lap.  There was no
time to hide it in her skirts.

“What is
that
?”
Edith asked accusingly as she stalked over towards Elizabeth.  “Yer father has
warned ye about the sins of reading books!”

“I…I was only…” Elizabeth stammered as Edith came and ripped the precious book from her grasp.

“Tis mine,” Lachlan said calmly.  “The book was in my sporran.  I meant no harm by showing it to the
lass.  I did not know that her father had forbidden her from reading.”

Edith looked down
at the worn leather volume.

She glared at Lachlan.

“Tis no surprise
that ye would seek to defile Lady Elizabeth with the evils found in books! 
Spawn of the Devil that ye are yerself,” Edith said heatedly as she regarded Lachlan.

“I’ll have my book
back,” Lachlan said with an air of challenge as he glowered at the hateful
maid.

Edith thought for
a moment and then tossed the book on the foot of Lachlan’s bed, well beyond the
reach of his shackled arms.

“Tis unwise for
you to be alone with this devil,” Edith said reproachfully as she looked
directly at Elizabeth.

“The Laird
assigned me to his care!” Elizabeth said defensively.

“Aye, he did.  I
know as much.  But when the Laird assigned ye tae care for this MacFarland
bastard, I reckon that he did not know ye would enjoy it sae much,” Edith said
accusingly.  Her eyes locked with Elizabeth’s for a scant moment before she
stormed out of the chamber.

Elizabeth looked
to Lachlan, fear evident in her eyes.

She stood and
captured the book in her hands, stuffing it quickly beneath the balls of yarn
in her knitting basket.

“She’ll tell him. 
He will know that the book was not yours!” Elizabeth said, her voice shaking
with fear.

“Give the book
over, Elizabeth,” Lachlan said coolly.  “He may not believe that it is mine,
but perhaps he will.  ‘Tis a chance that I am willing to take if it will spare
you from his wrath.”

Elizabeth dug the
book out of her basket.  She carefully put in into Lachlan’s outstretched hand.

“He will beat
you,” Elizabeth said remorsefully.  “It will be all the reason that he needs.”

“I would rather
him beat me than raise a hand against you, for I am a dead man already.”

Elizabeth’s heart
sank.

How could John
Campbell harbor so much hatred against Lachlan, for just his clan name?  Lachlan was a good man, a brave man that was willing to sacrifice of himself to give her
protection.

“Elizabeth,” Lachlan asked as his heart raced in his chest.  “There is something that I would ask you.”

“Aye?”

“Will you come
closer, please?”  Lachlan cursed the restraints that tethered his arms to the
bed.  He wished to have his hands free for what he was about to do.  He wished
to have his hands free so that he might touch Elizabeth, if she permitted him
to do so.

Elizabeth sat on
the bed, so close to Lachlan that her sweet, enticing scent reached his nose. 
The lass reminded him of sunshine, and lavender.  She smelled so lovely.  Lachlan looked upon her, her beautiful auburn hair spilling down her shoulders, unbound and
curling in loose ringlets in contrast to her soft pink gown.

“I’ve a gift for
ye,” he said huskily.

“You’ve no need to
give me a gift, Lachlan!” Elizabeth refuted.  “Taking the book, taking the
punishment for the book in my stead is more than I could ever ask!”

“Nay, it is a gift
that I want to give to you.  ‘Tis a gift that I am hoping with all of my heart
that you will accept.”

The expression
fell from Elizabeth’s face.

Her heart
flip-flopped in her chest.

Lachlan extended
his tethered hand towards hers.  He stretched out his index finger and brushed
it tenderly down her forearm and across her knuckles.

Elizabeth did not move
away from his touch.

Lachlan’s gentle
touch set a fire in Elizabeth’s blood.  Her skin rippled with gooseflesh from
the thrill of his skin against her own.

Her eyes flitted
up to meet with Lachlan’s.

He watched Elizabeth intently as he transferred his gift into her hand.

She looked down,
feeling something prickle lightly against her sensitive skin.

There resting in
her palm was a thistle.

Elizabeth’s eyes
darted up to Lachlan’s face.  Her expression was one of surprise.  A light
blush colored her cheeks and her mouth was open as if she meant to speak, but
could not find the words to do so.

“In my clan, the
thistle is a symbol of love,” Lachlan began, his heart thundering wildly in his
chest.  If Elizabeth rebuked him, if she refused to see him, it would be as if
the very light had been stolen from his life.  “When a man gives a thistle to a
woman, it is seen as a promise.”

“What sort of
promise?” Elizabeth asked.  Anticipation thrummed through Elizabeth’s body.

“Tis a promise of his
love,” Lachlan said as he closed Elizabeth’s hand gently around the thistle. 
“And I hope that you will accept such a promise from me,” Lachlan said with a
needful smile.

Elizabeth felt
color flush her face.  The thistle prickled her palm.  Lachlan’s hand rested
upon hers.  His touch enflamed her, causing her to lose the ability to think.

“I will accept
it,” Elizabeth said as she smiled fully.  She was taken aback by Lachlan’s gift.  It was as if he had seen right into her heart.  Elizabeth wondered how
Lachlan MacFarland had managed to steal her heart so nimbly.  “Yes, Lachlan.  I will accept your promise,” Elizabeth whispered.

Butterflies went wild
in her stomach.

Lachlan broke into
a smile and squeezed her hand.

The door flew open
with a loud creak.  Elizabeth dropped Lachlan’s hand and sprung guiltily to her
feet.  She hid the hand that clasped the thistle in the folds of her skirt.

“Hello, Father,”
she said as she tried to regain control of her scattered emotions.

“I’ll speak with
you later.  Leave us,” John Campbell commanded dismissively as he motioned for Elizabeth to take her leave.

“The MacFarland
has done no wrong,” Elizabeth said calmly.  “He asked for me to fetch the book
from his sporran and…”

“Leave us!” John
thundered. 

Elizabeth cast a
longing look over her shoulder.  There were so many things that she had wanted
to say to Lachlan!  She clasped the thistle tightly, feeling its precious
scratch against the palm of her hand.  The tiny gift held such immense promise.

John Campbell
ushered Elizabeth from the chamber, barring the door quickly behind her as he
sent her into the hallway.

The sound of the
bar being forced into place reverberated through Elizabeth’s bones, settling in
a giant knot of fear that gripped her completely.

What price
would Lachlan pay for her actions?

..ooOOoo..

Elizabeth ran up
the stairs to her chamber, her shoes clicking against the flagstone steps.  She
barred the door behind herself and collapsed on the bed.

She was too numb
to cry.

Opening her fist,
she looked down at the thistle.

Lachlan had all
but said that he loved her.

With this tiny
thistle, he had promised her his love.

Could it be
true?

Lachlan
felt the same overwhelming emotions that she did!

He had said that
the thistle was a promise of love.

Elizabeth knew in
her soul that she loved Lachlan MacFarland already.

She hoped that he
would still want her when she told him her dreadful secret.

Her green eyes
were fixated on the thistle.

She had meant to
tell Lachlan the awful news today.

John Campbell
had betrothed her to marry his distant cousin.

Elizabeth had been
given the news of her betrothal this morning.  She would be married to
Alexander Campbell on Hogmanay, when the clan was gathered together.  Hogmanay
was but two days away.

She hadn’t found
the courage to tell Lachlan of her betrothal when she had been with him this
morning in his chamber.  The very idea of telling him broke her heart.  She had
planned to tell him and then he had surprised her with the thistle, which
further complicated the situation.