Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8

Morning came and went, and Leona found herself met with two real choices: remain hidden in her chambers until her embarrassment faded or wander aimlessly through the castle hallways. As her steps echoed throughout the corridors, she questioned her own decision.

Her mind was reeling with thoughts of Caelan, and her face had taken on a permanent shade of pink. I'll just say I'm nae feeling well if anyone asks . Thankfully, today seemed to be a day where she was left to her own devices. Maisie had lessons forced upon her when her tutor brought it to her mother's attention that she had not been studying but instead had been sneaking away to the kitchens.

As she walked, lost in the turmoil of her thoughts, she found herself face-to-face with Jamie. He smiled down at her; warmth radiated off him like the sun. Politely, she returned the expression, but her mind struggled to be in the present.

"Is something troublin' ye, m'lady?"

Leona sighed and met his gaze, but her eyes shifted for a moment to the scar that consumed half of his face. Up close, in this lighting, it was more gruesome. She quickly glanced away, focusing on the broach that was proudly worn on his shirt.

"Does it bother ye? Daenae fash about it, lass. It's nae about to fade away, and ye'll likely be seein' more and more of it," he chuckled, sensing her unease.

Leona shook her head. "Doesnae bother me at all. I just…"

"Ye daenae ken where to look."

She grimaced at the bluntness. "Aye, 'tis true."

"Oh, lass. Daenae worry yer wee, bonnie head. Ye lookin' doesnae offend me. If anythin', nae lookin' is worse."

She raised her brows. "How's that?"

"Well, everyone's too afraid to see me," he smirked. "They cannae ken how handsome I am. I'll never find m'self a wife at this rate, ye ken?"

"Well, then I best nae look," she laughed as he chuckled.

"Ye ken, it happened at Gleann Cloiche," his voice suggested he knew all about the wedding. She wondered if Caelan had told him the details. Did that mean that he had agreed on the spot?

She blinked. "Ye were just a wee lad then?"

"Aye," he laughed. "Nae old enough for battle. Lied m' way through."

"I'm sorry," she had no doubt that a MacLoughty soldier had done the damage. Leona wondered then if the former battlefield was truly the best place, given the circumstances.

"Lass, it's a bonnie idea," he seemed to sense her unrest.

"But–"

"A MacLoughty man is the reason I'm alive. If it wasnae for him, I would be buried with me comrades. He saw me, a small lad then, and he took pity on me. Or maybe he hoped to see me disfigured for life, but whatever the reason, I am thankful."

It was a unique outlook to have. Leona didn't know if she herself could be so forgiving or with such high spirits. "Will ye walk with me?" She finally asked him. Perhaps she would gain another friend within these walls.

"Where to?"

Leona shrugged. "I daenae ken the castle well enough yet."

"Then I should be the one to show ye." His voice echoed through the hallway. Leona jumped, her face immediately taking on a shade of embarrassment.

Turning only halfway so that she could hide her expression and the flustered color of her cheeks, she cleared her throat.

"That willnae be necessary," she said in a voice that was meant to be firm but faltered, turning shaky. "Jamie is about to guide me–"

"Jamie, leave us."

Why? Her stomach was in knots. Leona's mind raced, settling on the kiss that had kept her up for most of the night.

She shot a pleading look to the man-at-arms, but Jamie shook his head. "Forgive me, lass. Best of luck."

With that, he left her alone with Caelan.

"Are ye avoiding me?" he asked after some time. Jamie's steps had faded into the walls of the castle, and the only sound was the chirp of birds outside.

Aye . "Nay, of course nae."

Caelan frowned. "Leona–"

"Show me the bits of the castle I haven't seen yet," she said as she stole a quick glance.

Even more so, she found him incredibly handsome. His hair was tied back, showcasing his chiseled jawline and the darkening of a beard that was not yet there. But above all else, she was drawn to his lips. As much as she tried to deny it, as much as she wished it wasn't so, she wanted to feel his mouth on hers.

"Forgive me," his voice made her turn to him.

Leona shook her head. "Forgive ye for what?"

"For m'actions last night, I overstepped, and I shouldnae have been so bold."

He was worried about being bold? She was just thinking of his lips on her a moment ago! Leona couldn't contain the laughter that bubbled out from her. It was ridiculous for him to be apologizing. She may not have known why he had chosen to kiss her, but she knew she wanted him to do so again.

"Show me the castle, bampot."

Caelan furrowed his brow but nodded, he held out his bent arm, and she slipped hers through. Though due to their differences in height, she almost seemed to be clinging to him for dear life. Together, they walked, their steps echoing in unison.

As they moved through the stony halls, Caelan eagerly began to share the stories that brought the castle to life. Even the things she had seen alone before now shone with a different light. Every room, every passageway, even the kitchens, had some unbelievable tale he had to tell her. Admittedly, he was good at it; she almost believed it all.

"Here, in this very room," he began, his eyes lighting up. "is where a maid was killed in a fire so long ago. Sometimes, in the night, she'll whistle through the hallways. She's still workin' even though her time has passed."

"Come now, Caelan. What maid would want to continue to work after she has passed? Surely, she would welcome the rest," Leona frowned.

"Perhaps, but I've heard her," he winked.

Leona couldn't resist it. "Are ye tryin' to frighten me?"

"Nay, just warn ye when she's whistlin' a tune outside yer chambers."

He seemed to take it all seriously, which surprised her. This tall, large man afraid of stories? Leona shook her head and then glanced at the window. She stepped over and took in the rolling hills, the blue sky with the soft clouds easing over the horizon. It looked peaceful; she felt it radiate to her.

Then she saw it, the small speck of a carriage. She frowned and narrowed her eyes, watching it curiously. It was none of her business who came to his castle, but that did not stop her from asking. "Are ye expecting guests?"

"Nay," he said. "But ye are."