Surviving Scotland (8 page)

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Authors: Kristin Vayden

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

BOOK: Surviving Scotland
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I wanted to ask why, but my heart hurt too much. If Ioan really wanted me, if he cared for me, then he would have fought for me, right? Ioan wasn’t one to follow blindly. He was as stubborn as I, if not more so. I thought back over his kiss and what he said afterward that shattered my heart. With a startling realization, I discovered that somehow, my annoying attraction to Ioan had developed into love, yet Ioan didn’t want me. Though his words said he did, his actions spoke louder. And now I was left to pick up the broken fragments of my rejected love.

****

The journey took us less than a day, and I was grateful. If I had to go much farther in silence, while watching Ioan’s back ahead of me, I was going to throw myself off a ravine. What had started as hurt had changed into anger. When Dumbarton Castle came into view on top of a tall cliff, I swallowed compulsively. This castle was far larger than the Carnasserie and overlooked the sea. The salty air swirled around me and I shivered. The long ascent to the gate was slow because of the sharp incline and Dag’s breath was labored. I patted his neck and whispered encouragement. His brown ears flickered back to listen and his tail twitched, swatting me in the leg. I grinned for the first time since I left. In my gratitude, I promised Dag a treat when we arrived.

The courtyard came into view with its grey stone paving. The tall castle stood with angular windows and a large wooden door. A few men moved about, but halted when they saw our approach.

Ioan dismounted and walked over to the eldest, speaking in low tones. My heart ached once again in watching his purposeful strides. Ioan walked over to me to help me dismount, but my temper flared, and I jumped down before he could assist me. A ghost of a smile tilted his lips, but he didn’t look at me, only shrugged and walked away.

The door opened and a man about my uncle’s age came out with a much younger man behind him. My attention was fixed on his bright smile as he noticed me. Dusty blonde and unruly hair blew in the breeze and he approached.

“Elle!”

I glanced from him to Ioan, but focused on Cullon as he began to speak again.

“Cullon, Cullon Campbell. This is my Father, Niall Campbell, the laird.”

I bowed but my gaze flickered back to Cullon. His voice was vaguely familiar, yet I couldn’t place it.

“‘Tis an honor to have ye in our home, lassie. Come along and I’ll have Cullon show ye around.” The thick man turned, his plaid billowing behind him in the strong breeze. I glanced to Ioan but he was speaking with his cousin in low tones. Cullon looked pleased, and Ioan, well, Ioan did not. I watched as Cullon playfully punched Ioan in the arm and then winked at me. I blushed and glanced away, but not before Ioan gave me an annoyed glare. What did I do? The man was beyond confusing. I exhaled heavily in my exasperation.

“This way, lass. Allow me to show ye my home.” Cullon held out his arm and I walked over to him, casting a glance back to Ioan, who refused to make eye contact.
Fine
. I would play the game if he wanted to. I could pretend he didn’t exist either. I gave Cullon my brightest smile and walked into the castle.

The building was beautiful, and far brighter than my own home. There were far more people bustling about than I was accustomed to, but I didn’t mind. Cullon introduced me to his mother, Margaret.

“‘Tis a pleasure to meet ye. Over the years we’ve heard quite a few stories from wee Ioan about ye and yer family.” She had been waiting to meet me in a sitting room just aside from the main door. She sat next to the fire and offered me a warm and welcoming smile. I bowed my head and thanked her. Then as I thought over her words, I grimaced, sure that the stories she had heard weren’t complimentary.

“Ach, donna give me that look, Ioan was gracious, I promise.” She patted my hand with a chuckle and rose from the padded wooden chair.

“Cullon, have ye shown the lassie her room yet?”

“No, I tho’ ‘twould be best if ye did.”

“Aye.” She nodded and touched her son’s shoulder gently and motioned for me to follow. It was clear that Cullon adored his mother by the indulgent grin he offered as she left.

I followed her up the stairs and into a beautiful room with a soft bed and glowing hearth. Pressed flowers were put on my nightstand with lavender floating in the water pitcher. The room was heavily scented with lavender as well. Clearly they had gone to a lot of work in preparing my room. I was overwhelmed at their generosity, especially from people I didn’t know.

“‘Tis beautiful! But ye dinna need to go to all the trouble fer me. Donna misunderstand, I’m thankful. ‘Tis the most beautiful room I’ve seen. I just feel bad that ye went through so much work,” I spoke to Margaret, but at her dismissive wave I continued to glance about the room.

“‘Twas a pleasure. We hope that ye’ll be happy here, Elle.” I glanced back at her. Was there an underlying meaning to her words? Perhaps it wasn’t only my uncle that wished our families to unite. My heart ached and my chest constricted at the thought of being pressured to marry Cullon. There was nothing wrong with him, at least that I could see upon only meeting him a short while ago, but he wasn’t Ioan.

“I thank ye for yer hospitality.”

“‘Tis our way. I’ll let ye freshen up a bit afore supper.” She closed the door gently behind her and I lay on the soft bed. What was I going to do?

****

Life fell into a regular rhythm. Cullon was a perfect companion at mealtimes and for the occasional walk, but I didn’t feel any sparks in our relationship. He was a great friend and made me laugh, but I would often find myself searching for Ioan. Ioan, however, was rarely found.

After about two weeks into my stay at Dumbarton, Cullon pulled me aside after we’d taken a walk on a path that passed by the blue-green sea.

“I’ve been meanin’ ta speak with ye, but I donna know how ta ask such a question.” He spoke softly and narrowed his eyes at his boots. After a moment he sat on a large bolder and gazed intently at me. Foreboding clenched in my chest. No, he couldn’t already offer for my hand, could he? My hands grew sweaty, and I tried to think of a valid reason for refusing him other than,
I

m in love with your cousin.

“Aye?” I croaked and then cleared my throat.

“‘Tis a sensitive subject, and I donna want ta betray a trust, do ye ken?”

“I promise no’ ta speak a word of it beyond this conversation.”

He nodded and stood, pacing around the rock where had just sat, his heavy boots making a muted thud against the marshy land. He gestured for me to sit and I did with reluctance.

“‘Tis my cousin, Ioan.” Cullon glanced down at me and then resumed his pacing. “He isna himself, and I was wonderin’ if ye knew anythin’ about why.” He regarded me with a shrewd gaze. “Ye have been friends fer a while, and I tho’ that perhaps, there was more ta it than that.” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. “I suppose, what I’m askin’ is…” He paused and took a deep breath. The restless pacing stopped and he gazed at me with a piercing intensity.

“Did ye break his heart, lass?”

Of all the things I had expected him to ask,
that
was not one of them. My eyes grew large at his implication, but shock was soon replaced by anger. Anger, because I was the one rejected, and now
I
was the one taking the blame for Ioan’s attitude.

“If ye want ta know, ask yer cousin. But donna blame me! That man is more confusin’ than a walkin’ fish, and I give up tryin’ ta figure him out.” I crossed my arms and walked away, not caring that I wasn’t sure of which way to go. If Ioan wasn’t driving me to distraction with his annoying jabs, then he was making me dream about his kiss, and if that wasn’t enough, I had his cold shoulder to deal with each day! Exasperating! Cullon’s footsteps sounded behind me, but I refused to turn around.

“I said ‘twas a sensitive subject, lass. Donna be angry with me, please?” Cullon called and I halted. Truly, it wasn’t his fault. I was blaming him for Ioan’s foolishness. I sighed heavily and turned around.

“Ye’re right, I’m sorry.”

Cullon watched me for a moment, his eyes narrowed, and he rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger, seeming thoughtful.

“At risk of makin’ ye angry again, I need ta ask one more question.”

“Aye?” I asked dubiously.

“Does Ioan ken ye love him?”

I felt the blood drain from my face and I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I had told no one. Was it that obvious? Embarrassment washed over me and the blood rushed back to my face, heating it.

“I tho’ no’.” Cullon nodded then chuckled. “And ta think, here I am tryin’ me best ta court ye an’ yer heart is already given.” He shook his head and gave a self-deprecating laugh.

“Cullon…” I began and took a step forward.

“Lass, donna worry. Truly. I donna think it woulda worked between us anyhow. No offense, but ye are a little stubborn for my taste.” Cullon grinned and crossed his arms.

“Well, I thank ye for the compliment,” I said sarcastically.

“Donna get yer feathers ruffled, lass.” He shrugged then regarded me with a piercing gaze. “Ye dinna answer me question.”

I glanced down at my boots, not wanting to disclose such personal feelings. “I donna ken. ‘Tisn’t like I slapped him after he kissed me,” I muttered.

“What?”

“Nothin’.” I shook my head, berating myself for saying so much.

“He kissed ye, lass?” Cullon’s face split into a grin.

“Aye,” I murmured as my face heated once more.

“Ach, this makes much more sense now.”

“How so?” I watched Cullon as he began to chuckle and shake his head. How could this make sense, in any way? Irritated, I tapped my boot and placed my hands on my hips, waiting for him to explain.

“Ye see, lass, Ioan loves ye, he does. Why else would he be mopin’ about the castle and tryin’ ta spy on ye?

“Ioan has been spyin’ on me?”

“Aye, I caught him just the other day. ‘Twas why I tho’ that perhaps ye had broken his heart. I dinna want ta tell ye at first, because I was only assuming.”

“So, Ioan is bein’ a pain in my hind end because he
does
love me? Men!” I shook my head and glared at Cullon when he burst into a loud laugh.

“The question now… is how do we get his head from his… er, hind end, and do somethin’ about it?” Cullon tapped his chin with his finger and closed his eyes. After a moment he opened them and grinned at me. “I’ve got it! How good are ye at actin’, lass?”

Chapter Seven

Cullon was sure that his plan would work. I had my doubts. Why would Ioan now become jealous enough to react when he had already seen Cullon and me together so many times before? Cullon assured me that this would be different; he just refused to say how. To think, the man called
me
stubborn. I ignored his smirk as we walked into the courtyard, supposedly to go visit a beautiful ravine not too far from the castle. As Cullon had predicted, Ioan was on his way out as well.

“Ioan! Come here!” Cullon shouted, and I cringed as Ioan eyed him with mild curiosity, then me with open contempt. I wanted to kick Cullon for thinking his plan would work. Clearly he didn’t understand the depth of Ioan’s foul mood. As I watched Ioan, I barely resisted the temptation to run over and kick his shin, hard. I thought we were friends, even if he didn’t care for me as I had hoped or he had implied. Shouldn’t he be able to glance in my direction without his perpetual scowl? I crossed my arms and glared back at him, irritated. Cullon didn’t notice our loathing, or at least didn’t mention it.

“We are ta have a walk and need a chaperone. Ye’ll have ta do.” Cullon nodded and crossed his arms, seeming thrilled with his brilliant idea. I closed my eyes and hoped there was more to his plan than simply asking Ioan to walk with us. I opened my eyes and glanced at Ioan. He was shaking his head vehemently and taking a few steps backward.

“I canna, I have ta—”

“I already spoke with my da. Ye’re ta come with us.” Cullon walked over to him and placed his hand up as if to whisper but did so loudly enough that I easily heard his next words.” ‘Tis better ta have another sword rather than skirt, donna ye think? Besides, if’n I get out o’ hand with the bonny lass there…” He glanced over at me and winked playfully then turned back to a fuming Ioan. “Ye will be there ta keep me in line.” Cullon straightened and wiggled his eyebrows before turning his back to Ioan and whistling a merry tune as he strode back to my side.

Ioan’s eyes widened and his nostrils flared at Cullon’s words, but he nodded after a moment. He gestured with his left hand toward the trail and waited for Cullon and me to lead. As we passed Ioan, I met his gaze that had shifted from anger to torment. He offered me a sad smile. It was the first smile I had seen in weeks. Before I could return it, his gaze moved to the ground and I passed him.

Cullon engaged me in light conversation and, to his credit, put me at ease. The entire trek I felt Ioan shooting daggers at my back. As we traveled, Cullon whistled merrily or laughed at his own jokes. If I hadn’t been so distracted by Ioan’s presence, I’d have laughed at the irony. Ioan and silence, I never thought I’d see the day. Not long ago, I would have treasured a moment where he wasn’t tormenting me in one way or another; now I simply wished he’d even just say my name, or call me his wee haggis.

I tried to be good company, but Ioan’s presence was entirely distracting. Even if he was glaring and unhappy, at least he was there. I was starved for his presence. This was the longest amount of time I’d spent with him since we arrived at Dumbarton, and I savored each moment.

The ravine came into view. The deep cliffs were surrounded and marked by jagged stones worn by wind and water. Sparse trees grew here and there, but a pale green moss covered most everything. The sight truly was beautiful, and I took a step forward to get a better view. Behind me Cullon began to explain why he loved this place so much. The story was lost on me. A hawk circled high above us, and the peaceful expression that overtook Ioan’s face when I turned my head to see him distracted me. A hand came across my waist and pulled me back into a strong chest. It was wrong and I tried to get away, especially when I saw a murderous glint in Ioan’s eyes as he watched. Cullon leaned forward so that his lips grazed my ear and I stiffened. What was he thinking?

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