Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

The room was exquisite and decorated tastefully. Leona stepped inside, feeling the instant wall of warmth that radiated from the large fireplace. A smell of cloves and cinnamon, perhaps her favorite scents, filled the air.

Maisie stood beside her, her large doe-eyes hopeful. "Do ye like it?"

"I love it," Leona's voice was soft, almost a whisper, before wrapping her arms around her friend. She knew that Maisie had overseen the preparations since she knew Leona best– it only seemed appropriate.

Leona felt her heart swell as her eyes drifted across her chambers. The centerpiece of the room was a carved four-poster bed; its dark, polished wood gleamed as delicate drapes cascaded gracefully to the floor. The plush bed looked awfully inviting.

Leona's eyes scanned the room. They then narrowed in on the strange framing on the wall nearest to her bed. She walked over, running her hands over the wood panels that didn't seem to quite fit. She pressed against them, feeling the boards shift under the weight. "I think it's a door."

Maisie shook her head. "I willnae be goin' through there."

As she fidgeted with it more, she was certain she had discovered some form of secret passage. Perhaps something used in the event of a siege as a means of escape. Finally, she managed to open the makeshift door, and her curiosity urged her forward.

"I'll be right back," Leona said to her friend before stepping into the darkness.

"Ye're a fool, Leo!"

She pressed on, ignoring Maisie's words of protest, hugging herself and rubbing her arms quickly to regain some warmth. Her steps echoed as she walked. The darkness of the small space was enough to make her both want to turn back and to continue. Leona paused, looking forward as the hint of light was framed in a rectangular shape. A door.

Carefully, she pressed on it, expecting it would be as difficult to open as the one in her own chambers, but this door swung with ease. Or so she had thought.

A hand wrapped around her arm, propelling her forward and against the hard body of a tall figure. Leona gasped in surprise, feeling something cool and sharp against her neck.

She looked forward in panic, seeing herself reflected in a mirror across the room. Holding her close, his one arm across her chest and the other raised with a dagger against her neck, Leona saw Caelan. His skin was bare, almost completely naked. He was breathing heavily when a look of realization crossed over his face. "It's ye."

"A-aye. It's me."

He released her, stepping back breathlessly. "Good God, lass. Do ye have a death wish? Why would ye try to sneak in here like that? I thought ye were comin' for me head or throat," his eyes scanned her, focusing on where he had just had a knife to her neck. "Forgive me, ye wee fool."

She kept her gaze anywhere but him, even though she felt her gaze drawn to his strong muscles despite herself. Leona quickly rushed back from the way she had come, but he reached out, grabbing her arm to stop her. Caelan did not seem to think anything of his state of attire or lack thereof. She was on fire from embarrassment and shock.

"Did I hurt ye, lass?"

Leona kept her eyes closed. "Ye may have just scarred me for life."

"What makes ye…?" Realization flooded his voice.

With her eyes still closed, he all but pushed her back through the doorway. "Ye had best go now, lass. Isnae wise for a sweet thing like yerself to be in a man's chambers," he whispered in her ear as he urged her further away still.

Once she was in the passage, the door behind her slammed shut. On the other side, she heard him chuckle. "I hope ye have learned yer lesson when it comes to sneakin' about."

Leona rushed back to her chambers, closing the makeshift door behind her. She glanced around, her heart pounding so fast it felt as though it might leap from her chest.

"What's wrong? Ye look like ye've seen a ghost!" Maisie looked at the door with a hint of suspicion. She turned her attention to Leona, turning pale. "It wasnae a ghost, was it?"

Much worse. "Nay, nothin' of the sort."

"Is everythin' to yer likin', Leona?"

Sophie stood in the doorway; her sweet smile was soft and soothing. She stepped inside the room, her eyes scanning over the walls before falling onto Leona. Maisie looked so very similar to the older woman, a clear reflection of what was to come in the future.

"It's lovely," Leona smiled as she curtsied and felt herself flush. The image of Caelan in all of his glory was still taunting her. Who knew her future husband would be so…so…"Maisie outdid herself."

Sophie eyed her daughter; there was something hidden beneath her gaze. Layers that Leona couldn't quite see the surface of. "She certainly does have many ideas," her voice was soothing and warm. "Maisie, will ye leave us for a while? I have some things I wish to discuss with our guest."

Leona felt her heart sink as her eyes flashed to her friend. She pleaded in the most subtle of ways with a look that begged, ‘Please daenae leave me'. But she knew it was no use. Maisie turned for the door without protest before offering a sympathetic smile. "I will find ye later."

The door closed, and Leona felt her throat tighten. A silence was heavy between them, filling the large room and covering it like a blanket. She wasn't sure what she should say or do, so she stood and tried not to drown in the heavy awkwardness with a polite smile on her face.

"Ah, would ye care to sit?" Leona motioned to the chair near the fireplace. Sophie nodded and moved, sitting down and straightening her dress. She looked up at Leona, smiling, her expression almost expectant.

"Ye ken, me son never planned to marry."

Leona was surprised by this. "Why nae?"

"That… is somethin' ye'll have to ask him yerself, I'm afraid. But," she stepped into the middle of the room, looking at the paintings placed on the walls as she moved. "Caelan would turn his nose up to any lass I pushed at him, at any hint of a courtship. But then… well, now there's ye, lass. I daenae ken how this came to be, but thank ye."

She was thanking her? Leona frowned. "I daenae understand."

"Somethin' has sparked in m'son," Sophie smiled. "Now, ye should get some rest, bring the color back to yer complexion. I'm sure Maisie kept ye up all hours into the night."

Leona watched as Sophie nodded her head, dismissing herself from the room. As the door shut, she found herself standing in the middle of the room, feeling completely and utterly lost. What just happened?

As she sunk into the mattress, she sighed in relief. She wasn't tired enough to sleep. Her mind was working too hard on things she couldn't answer. "He never wanted a wife?" Her own words were airy and soft as she rolled onto her stomach, hugging at a lush pillow.

Caelan seemed to be cloaked in mystery. Somehow, he was both a nuisance and completely enigmatic. Was there something wrong with him, and that's why he never truly wished to be wed? Or was it that he simply did not want to be tied down by the confines of such commitment? Even so, there was nothing to stop him from having mistresses if he pleased.

She buried her face in the pillow, her annoyance tugging at her nerves. "This isnae even a true weddin'," she grumbled. So, why was this suddenly bothering her so much?

He could have any lass he wanted . Leona felt her face flush as her thoughts took a sudden turn. If they did continue with this ruse, he would likely have to lay with her. Would he want to lay with her? Did she wish to lay with him? Nay, daenae think of such things.

Sleep didn't come to her, so she sat up, her eyes scanning the room. "If this is to truly become me home, it would only be right to ken it inside and out," she felt giddy with excitement.

The castle was larger than the one she had grown up in. This place was more formidable, the walls taller and seemingly impenetrable. She had heard stories of it, of course, but to see it and be within the walls was something entirely different.

As she walked, her mind drifted in and out like waves. If she was the shoreline, then Caelan Lennox was the ocean; thoughts of him washed up and pulled away with each step. She shook her head, annoyed. If she went the rest of the day without seeing him, she would be happy.

"So, is it revenge then?"

Her ears perked at the faint sound, and her curiosity piqued as she stopped walking. Leona had come to a crossroads with her options laid out plainly before her. Did she continue forward, exploring further into the castle? Or did she turn to the left, where the sound of the voice had emerged from?

It's rude to listen in . She turned left anyway, careful not to let her heels touch too hard on the stony floor. The topic of revenge was at play, and given the bloody, incessant history between their clans, she assumed it had something to do with her.

As she approached the door, which was left open, she slowed and crawled on like a cat about to strike at a mouse. Leona reached out, placing her hand gently against the cold wall, putting most of her weight against it as she casually pretended not to be listening in.

"Bram Ainslie isnae me enemy, Jamie." Caelan's voice was firm but with a bit of play. It reminded her of clay, which had yet to be worked on. There was some give, but overall, it seemed hard and stubborn. She noticed there was a difference in his tone with her; perhaps she had noticed it earlier, but now it seemed even more prominent.

"I wasnae talkin' about takin' revenge from her father," Jamie's voice was low as if he didn't truly wish to speak about what he had spoken. Caelan responded, quieter this time, and Leona found herself leaning forward and turning her head to the side as she strained to listen in.

"All I am sayin–"

"Ye are me closest friend, Jamie. But daenae speak to me on me father," Caelan's voice was a low warning, almost like how a dog growls before it snaps. He said something else afterwards, but it was barely a whisper.

Leona knew of his father, to be sure. In fact, when her own father received word of his sudden passing, he had held a feast that lasted three days. That was the first time she had truly ever been drunk and the first time she had felt the after-effects the next morning. Her father had toasted countless times to Dauid Lennox , a man he had hated throughout his entire life.

The feud between their clans was rooted, but it took a turn when Dauid Lennox had brutally killed a handful of her father's men for petty crimes on his land. "If they had been deservin' of it, I would have thanked the old bastard," her father had told her once. "But the punishment dinnae meet the crime."

She wondered, how did Caelan feel about his father? And did he take after him when it came to pure savagery? Leona was so invested in a conversation she had no voice in that she didn't hear the oncoming sound of heels against the stone floor. Nor did she sense the pair of light brown eyes that had fallen on her.

"Can I help ye wit somethin', mistress Leona?" A voice rang out, loud enough that it echoed through the corridor like a bell chiming for church. Leona jolted upright, stifling a yelp of surprise. She turned, her eyes wide from shock, to see the maid, Flora, standing there.

Flora offered a sympathetic smile. "Forgive me. I dinnae mean to startle ye."

Her face turned beet red as two pairs of steps joined in as well. Caelan and Jamie stepped out into the hallway. Caelan shot a quick glance between the maid and Leona, his eyes seeming to linger a little longer on Flora. "Is everythin' all right?"

"I found the mistress outside yer door," Flora said.

Leona seethed inwardly though her flushed face was composed perfectly. She had been caught, and now she needed to weasel her way out of it. "Ah, forgive me," she started, racking her mind for excuses. "I was curious to see the study."

"And why would that be?" Caelan raised a brow.

Jamie cleared his throat, his eyes looking away with an expression that almost seemed to scream about the awkward situation. His gaze shifted to the maid, and he dismissed her with a brief wave, but Flora did not move immediately. It was barely noticeable; if she had blinked, she would have missed it, but Leona saw a look of defiance on the maid's bonnie face.

Jamie, perhaps seeing this as well, frowned. "Leave us."

Flora bowed and then turned on her heel, leaving the way she had come. Does she nae care for Jamie Nimmo? Leona eyed the man. Her gaze was immediately drawn to the horrific scarring on his face, but she quickly corrected herself and focused on the space between them both.

Leona took a breath. "I wished to see if ye had any books."

That wasn't a complete lie; she would love to see what he had when it came to literature. Caelan seemed to consider this for a moment before turning to his man-at-arms. "Will ye give me some time with me betrothed? "

"Aye, but daenae do anythin' I would do," Jamie chuckled. He nodded politely towards Leona before heading down the hallway. Whatever argument had come between them, they both seemed to be over it already.

Motioning to the door, Caelan watched her expectantly. "Ladies first."

She had not planned this out well. Each step towards the entrance made her heart flutter. The excitement of novels and the nervousness of being alone with him was enough to make her mouth dry and her heart pound.

The study was, surprisingly, very well decorated. Along the walls were shelves, each one filled with spines of different colors and thicknesses. Leona stopped in the middle of the room, turning slowly to take it all in. She had never seen so many books in her life, and she wasn't sure how to react.

She moved towards the shelf near his desk, ignoring the stacks of paper or the opened bottle of whiskey that sat half emptied. Dragging her fingers across the books, reading the titles as she went, Leona finally pulled one out and was about to open it when Caelan snatched it from her hand.

She frowned, turning to look up at him.

"Ye wished to see if I had any books," he smirked. "Ye saw."

Leona's annoyance flashed, and she eyed the novel in his hand. Without putting much thought behind her own actions, she leaped at him and reached for the book. Her fingers just brushed the edge of it before he held it up even higher over her. Leona's annoyance only grew as he began to chuckle at her attempt. "Damn ye, Caelan. Let me have it!"

"Oh, are we on a first-name basis now?"

She jumped up, cursing under her breath.

"I daenae what's shorter; ye or yer temper," he grinned down at her.

She took a deep, settling breath. "Listen here ye bampot–"

Her words were stripped from her as he took a step closer, closing off the distance between them. Behind her was the wall; there was nowhere else to go. "Do ye ken what this book is even about, lass?"

"Nay," she snapped. "That's why I wished to read it."

"Ye wish to read a copy of the Kama Sutra ?" His voice was tinged with amusement, which only made her more irritated.

Leona placed her hands on her hips. "Aye, I do."

In truth, she had no idea what the Kama Sutra even was or the contents, but she was determined to get her own way. With a triumphant smile, she snatched it from his hand as he lowered it to her. Does he nae think that I'm capable of reading it?

Her eyes narrowed as she opened the book to a random page, and her face turned pale. The part of her that clearly didn't want to behave pictured Caelan in a situation similar to the one the book portrayed.

Damn him and the secret passages of this castle!

Leona closed the book as fast as she had opened it.

Why in the hell did he have such a novel? Her face was red, her embarrassment and shock plainly painted on her face. She turned her back to him and quietly put the book back on the shelf.

Out of all the books she could've picked up, why that one?

"Ye could have warned me," she said in a low voice.

"Aye, but would ye have listened to me?"

Nay, probably nae. Leona turned and glared at him. "Could ye at least pretend ye're nae enjoyin' this?"

"Aye," he smiled. "I could. But I won't."

"So ye enjoy embarrassin' me like this?" Leona's annoyance had begun to shift, blending into a mixture of amusement. Her face felt less heated now, but she still kept her mouth tight and her eyes narrowed.

"Aye, I do. I cannae pretend that I daenae take some pleasure in seein' ye turn such a bonnie shade of pink."

"Is this what I can expect from ye as m' husband?"

Caelan shrugged. "I suppose ye'll have to marry me to find out."

Leona tilted her head. "Why do ye wish to wed me, Caelan?"

She had wondered this since he had agreed and still truly had no answer. Was it for the sake of some strange form of revenge? Or perhaps it was an attempt at protecting her friendship with his sister since he clearly seemed to know of it.

The playful tension in the air twisted, turning dark suddenly. Leona watched as a shadow seemed to cross over his face; his gaze turned darker, and his expression became stiffer.

"Ye best go prepare for dinner, lass," he frowned. "And daenae waste yer time with these books unless there's one to prepare ye for yer role as Lady MacNicols– in that case, ye best study it to the letter."

Shocked by the sudden coldness in his voice, she narrowed her eyes and turned on her heel. She walked to the door, trying to maintain her composure. Her temper, as it often did, got the best of her. Leona shot a look over her shoulder, her gaze meeting his. "See ye at dinner, m' love."