Chapter 17

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Thora rolled over onto her side and stifled a groan into the nearest pillow. She’d been trying for a candlemark or more to go to sleep, but her mind refused to quiet. Her thoughts were never silent, and sleep eluded her like a feral cat avoiding human hands.

She knew she should be exhausted to the point of unconsciousness. Between the strength of the vision and her efforts to save the young boy, she should have found it impossible to stay awake. That was how it had been in the past, especially with a vision of such urgency that it would not only form a dream image, but shake her from her slumber besides.

She knew why her thoughts wouldn’t settle. The answer to that was lying on the ground, wrapped in blankets barely a step or two away.

Aedan Cameron. She’d seen the way he had looked at her after she’d gotten the boy to breathe, after they’d ensured his life was in no immediate danger. For the first time since they’d met, she’d seen him looking at her with respect and consideration, rather than the faint air of condescension his gaze had held before. For the first time, the look in his eyes had suggested that he was actually reflecting on the things she’d told him, and perhaps, rethinking his beliefs about the existence of her Gift.

With a sigh, Thora rolled over further to tilt her head over the edge of the bed. To her surprise, the pile of blankets on the floor was empty. A careful look around the room revealed that the door to the terrace had been unlatched.

Thora thought for a moment, then rose and slid her feet into her slippers, before pulling on a warm outer robe. Once she was properly dressed against the chill, she went toward the terrace and stepped out.

The snow was falling lightly, drifting past in noiseless swirls of soft white cloud that hissed and vanished against the occasional flame of a torch or lantern. Aedan stood leaning against the wall, dressed in loose trews and a shirt, his feet bare on the cold stone. Thora tugged her robe a little closer around her, then went to stand beside him, content to lean close to his warmth and watch the snow fall.

He looked tired, and she recalled how stiff he’d been in the morning, from lying on the floor. “’Twas a difficult night, and a hard thing ye did, savin’ the lad. If ‘twould help, ye can tak’ the bed tae try tae get some rest.”

That earned her a brief smile, and a soft shake of the head. “’Tis nae necessary. I cannae seem tae sleep, regardless.”

Thora nodded. “Nay more can I.”

They stood in silence a moment longer, breath ghosting clouds into the chill night air. Then Aedan spoke again, his voice slow and quiet, oddly uncertain for a man who usually seemed so confident. “Ye kent the boy was in danger. Afore he even fell, afore he even reached the river… ye kent what was about tae happen.”

It was a soft, almost painful admission, and Thora chose to answer it gently, and as honestly as she could. “Aye. Me Gift gives warnings when a disaster is about tae happen. They’re nae always visions, and nae always clear warnings, but we were fortunate that this was both.”

Aedan’s brow furrowed, as if he was thinking about her words. “And what… what dae ye dae when they are nae clear? Or nae visions? How dae ye…?” He trailed off.

“I act on it, as best I can with what I ken at the time.” Thora studied his face, what she could see of it in the patchy darkness. After a moment, she continued, trying to explain, hoping he would understand. “I was a child when me Gift began tae appear, tae make itself felt. But I didnae understand what it was, didnae ken how to discern what it tried tae tell me at times, what a vision meant, or how tae respond. ‘Twas a time… I acted too late, and too slowly. And I’ve regretted that mistake ever since, and sworn nae tae repeat it, nae matter the cost tae meself, or me reputation.”

Aedan shook his head. “I couldnae do such. I cannae abide situations I cannae control, or that make it seem I might be failin’ in me duties, be they as a man, a warrior, or a laird.”

“Every person falters at times.” She couldn’t say why she spoke the words, but they seemed right, for Aedan huffed out a breath of air, even as his shoulders relaxed.

“’Tis nae… ye have tae ken…” He paused, brow furrowing again, and his words coming as slowly as her own had, a few moments before. “I was a bairn when me maither passed, and me faither refused tae wed again. I grew up kenning I was the only heir me faither had, and then…”

He paused, and took another deep breath. “I was scarce more than a lad, just barely old enough tae progress from a serving boy tae a warrior-in-training, when me faither was killed in battle. ‘Twas sudden and losin’ him shook the entire clan.”

“Includin’ ye.”

“Aye. I had tae tak’ the lairdship, but there were a number o’ people, inside the clan and out, who didnae think me old enough or well enough schooled in me duties tae dae so. They didnae think I’d the strength or skill tae claim the lairdship, let alone hold the clan taegether.”

Thora nodded. It made sense. A young laird, forced into duties that could overwhelm men far older… there would be doubts. Even Domhnall, for all his strength, had faced opposition when he’d claimed lairdship of Clan MacLeod. But Domhnall had been supported by his siblings, including her.

What support had the child Aedan had?

She said the only thing she could think of. “But ye did hold it taegether, and I havenae heard that ye’re nae a fair laird.”

Aedan snorted. “’Tis nae sayin’ much, and well I ken it. The first couple of years… it seemed that every other fortnight I was havin’ tae prove meself in some manner or another. Even now, it feels like any sign o’ weakness will bring the wolves tae me door, lookin’ tae tak’ away me position and me honor as me faither’s son. ‘Tis why, when ye spoke o’ kenning about the emptiness o’ me clan’s coffers…”

“I shouldnae have spoken about it. Or listened tae yer conversation… for ‘twas through eavesdropping that I learned it.” Thora flushed. “I wanted ye tae heed me, but ‘twas wrong o’ me tae resort tae blackmail and threats.”

Aedan shifted in what might have been a shrug. “We act accordion’ tae what we ken. I shouldnae have been so dismissive o’ yer words. Just because I dinnae believe in, or ken much about, the Gift ye claim tae have. Ye came with a warnin’ and I was foolish tae dismiss it out o’ hand.”

“Even so, I’d like tae apologize fer usin’ such tactics. And fer embarrassing ye as well, in how I chose tae get yer attention and secure yer agreement.” She would have said more, but she wasn’t sure how Aedan would feel, to be reminded of how she’d kidnapped him. She suspected it was a sore spot to his pride, especially with what he’d just told her.

“’Tis all in the past. All that can be done is tae move forward.”

“Aye.”

The snow was growing gradually more visible, the thinnest light of the coming dawn beginning to show on the far horizon. Thora turned to retreat inside, hoping for at least a candle-mark or two of sleep.

She nearly bumped into Aedan, who’d apparently had the same thought, and just barely managed to avoid hitting her as she stumbled to a halt.

Aedan caught her in his arms, and she looked up into his face, startled by how close he was. Time seemed to slow, her breath catching oddly in her throat as his warmth and the scent of woodsmoke, wool and snow enveloped her.

After a moment, he raised one hand to push an errant lock of hair away from her face. “Ye look weary. Ye should rest, if ye can.”

“I could say the same.” She managed a wan smile. “The bed is still available, if ye wish it.”

Aedan chuckled, the sound vibrating pleasantly through her. “I’ll manage fine amid me blankets… I wouldnae wish ye tae think me a soft little lairdling, after all.”

“I wouldnae think that. Nae now.” She swallowed, then froze as his lips ghosted softly over her forehead. “Aedan…”

“Ye’re chilled.” He pulled her closer, and Thora felt her mouth go dry at his closeness.

So close… was it only a few candle-marks ago, less than half a day, that they’d stood so close, sharing a kiss under the Kissing Bough?

What would it be like, tae kiss him without it bein’ a show we were forced tae put on tae fool Laird Ross?

She found herself leaning up and in, moving without thought or consideration of the consequences. Aedan’s nostrils flared, eyes darkening with desire, head tilting to meet hers.

A loud thud from somewhere below jolted them both. Down in the courtyard, the guards were changing shifts, and the gate had been thrown open to admit the servants who lived in the village.

The night was still dark around them, but the sharp edge of dawn chill was in the air. The first sounds of servants preparing for the day’s activities reached their ears. In a few candle marks someone would be around to rouse them for the morning meal.

“Get what rest ye can. We’ve still some time afore they come seeking us.” Aedan stepped back and opened the door to let her inside.

Thora went, feeling weariness suddenly dragging at her bones. Her eyes felt heavy, and she knew that sleep would come easily now, even if it would be a short rest. Even so, she felt disappointed as she climbed into the bed.

The pillows were soft, the blankets a warm weight about her, and yet, she couldn’t help thinking how cold it felt, when compared to the warmth of Aedan’s arms, and how lonely it felt, after the kiss they had almost shared.