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The Highlander's Touch (Highland Legacy Book 1) by D.K. Combs (33)

Chapter 33

If anyone could melt on the floor and slip into the cracks, Saeran would gladly sell her soul for that ability. She could not believe what was happening, nor could she escape it. The fact of the matter was, Kane had found her—and she was in the middle of crying.

She stiffened, meeting Connor’s eyes. He refused to meet hers.

“Alice,” he said again, this time his voice contrite. He turned her around with a hand to his shoulder when she refused to move from her spot. This could not be happening—simply could not be happening.

When she faced him, though, it all became a reality. For whatever reason, he had noticed her—and once again, she had been dumb enough to not change into the garb of a boy. The tears worsened, no matter how hard she tried to stem them.

Kane was here. She had no business crying or appearing weak in front of him. Saeran quickly wiped her eyes, grateful for the darkness. Mayhap he wouldn’t see the streams of tears going down her cheeks.

By the angry darkening of his eyes, she knew the ruse was up. He knew she was crying, without her saying a word. He took her hand, pulling her against his chest.

“So help me, Connor, if you…”

“Kane,” she said sharply. Her voice was hoarse, low.

Connor backed away from the two of them, casting glances behind her. She became aware of the other men—men she had traveled with, trained with, and gotten beat up by. Saeran looked away from them. Kane might not notice who she was because of his infatuation, but the others…she was not so sure.

“Why were ye’ crying, lass? What did he do?” Then a fierce glare settled over his face, and he narrowed his eyes not on Connor, but on her. “You should be home.”

“This is her home,” Connor said quickly. Saeran tensed.

“Nay, her home is on Shaw lands. Why are you here? This is MacLeod land,” he growled. “It’s dangerous here. Ye’ ken that from the attack.”

“Aye.” When was Connor going to say something? He was the one who had lied first! Saeran wrung her hands, feeling the heat from inside of her wipe out the chill of the air. This was not good. She shouldn’t have stepped outside. Lord, how could she be so foolish!

“Alice,” Kane bit out. “Do ye’ no’ have a brain? Did ye’ follow me here?”

“No,” Connor said, glaring at him. He reached forward, taking Saeran’s hand. “If you must know, Alice is my older sister.”

Kane stared at him. Connor tugged her forward, removing her from Kane’s arms. “And if you please,” he said shortly, “I would appreciate it if you would keep your hands off of her. She is an innocent in this.”

“But you donna live here. You live—”

“Father sent her away. There were too many brothers. She came to live with our aunt, Mabel.”

“No, she lives—”

“She moved. Before we left, I sent for her to meet me here. Father asked me to tell her. I put it off, since she seemed so happy. The time came for her to leave. There is, of course, no problem with this as she is my sister and my responsibility.” Connor gave her a confident smile, but all she could do was stare and think. He was lying for her. When she had first met him, he had been adamant about his loyalty to Kane. What had changed? Did Kane notice his squire’s deception?

The hard look on his face told her no. He was too concerned with the fact that she now “lived” on MacLeod lands. “When did you find out?”

Connor, like the dutiful brother he was posing as, filled in for her. “This morning.”

Saeran flinched.

“This morning, she was with me.”

“Kane—”

“Nay, Alice,” he said, cutting her off. She felt like she was being trampled by a stampede of horses, with no way of standing up. Connor had gotten her into this story so quickly that she had no time to prepare the rest of the lie. She had always been a terrible liar. Now, lying to him even more than she already was, had guilt eating her alive. “I want to hear this from yer brother.”

He did not sound happy.

* * *

Why hadn’t the two of them said anything to him about their relation? He never would have…Kane grunted. She had said she was visiting someone, but not who. Even after relentless inquiries, he hadn’t found out. Now he was left wondering why.

“There is nothing to hear. I was seeing her off to bed, after a tiring travel with Mabel.”

“There is no’ Mabel on my lands.”

“There is. She arrived only moments before we left. My laird, I am sorry, but Alice is exhausted, as you can see.”

Aye, he could see. Her eyes were sunken in, face drawn, pale, and nearly sickly looking. Her golden hair was as lifeless as her eyes. His heart clenched. What had happened to her?

“I want to know why she was crying before ye’ go.”

“Kane,” she said softly. He’d never had a woman’s voice bring him to his knees, but the weakness there very nearly did. She lacked the normal fire she possessed. What had happened to douse it?

He stepped forward, ready to wring Connor’s throat for letting his sister come to such distress, but Brodrick was there, holding him back.

“Yer not like this,” his friend said quietly. Brodrick gave an odd, inquisitive look over Alice. Then a look passed over his face, as if he had just realized something. Understanding lit his eyes. “Let the lady leave. She must be most tired from her journey.”

“If yer wife were crying, would ye’ no’ demand to ken why?” he asked, pushing Brodrick away.

“Alice is most definitely not your wife,” Brodrick said. Connor nudged Alice toward the entrance of the inn. She went willingly, though he assumed it was more because of her weakness that she could not fight back. She held his eyes, unrecognizable emotion flowing through the crystalline depths.

Kane watched her go, jaw ticking. No better way to put him in his place than to point out what wasn’t his. Nay, he thought, seeing red. Alice was his—and for whatever reason, she had been crying.

The door closed softly. He wanted to shove everyone aside and go after her. He would. If it was the last thing he did, he’d find out which room she was in and comfort her. No woman, including one as kind and beautiful as Alice, should cry.

It reminded him all too sharply of his sister’s tears the night she was sent to Hans Grayham. A cold feeling went down his back at the thought. Just like Alice, his sister had been weak, emotionally destroyed. Nay, a woman should not be allowed to cry if someone can help it.

“Kane,” Brodrick said lowly. “We must go. Connor, are you coming along?”

Connor’s eyes flickered to a room. One of the open rooms flickered to life as a fire was set. The moving shadows and flickers of light showed them the outline of a slender woman as she moved to the window. The curtains snapped closed.

Alice was there. She was there, and he would return to her.

Jaw clenched, he allowed his men to lead him away in silence. Later, well into the night, he would return for her. Alice would not be settling for rest with a heavy heart. He would clear the weight of whatever was causing her tears, and find out everything that had transpired without him knowing.

Starting with her relation to Connor, why she had kept it a secret, and the real reason she had moved here. It was true that Connor’s father had once been a mighty Highlander, who preferred the Lowlands to escape the nagging of his wife. Alice had spoken of that, so he should have connected it.

I am blinded by her, he thought angrily, storming into the pub. The door slammed open on his arrival, and dead silence filled the room. He was too concerned with her welfare, happiness, and bedding her to think of the more important things, like examining the facts that were right in front of him.

Nay, from now on—after he soothed her aching heart—he would pay closer attention to details. He liked the lass, he really did. Did no’ a man who cared for a woman pay attention to everything he could about her? Women had tender hearts—mayhap his lack of noticing the things he should have made her upset.

Kane looked over his shoulder, at the closed curtains. Mayhap she was upset because of him. The thought was horrifying enough to make him sick to the stomach. For that reason alone, he didn’t enjoy a single frightened whisper as he stalked through the pub like he had death on his shoulders. Perhaps he did. He was angry with himself enough to kill, and God help any man dumb enough to approach him now.

* * *

Saeran collapsed into the bed, naked and dripping from her bath. She huddled under the thick blankets covering the bed. She was too weak, mentally and physically, to do anything for herself. She wanted to sleep and never wake up.

That would cure all of her problems. All of them. No more Blaine, no more potentially dying, no more lying to Kane, no more fearing for her life… There would be nothing if she simply went to sleep, and never woke up.

It was an easy solution, but she knew she could never go through with it. Nay, perhaps leaving would be the best choice. Leaving and living on her own, in the Lowlands. She had pretended this long to be a boy, so couldn’t she continue to do so to protect herself? Mayhap that would be easier. But why, then, did the thought of no longer seeing Kane make her chest ache, her stomach clench, and her hands sweat? It was terrifying, thinking of herself without him. Hearing his deep chuckle whenever she did something amusing, hearing his grunts or growls.

Learning about him.

That, she feared, would hurt her the most. Saeran was a learner—she loved to absorb knowledge, and always had. Kane was like a book to her. A very enticing, intriguing, unexpected book. Every page to Kane was a twist, something she had not expected of him.

His tenderness…kindness…the need he felt to protect. It was overwhelming to see a book that large, but Saeran had always loved the thicker ones, and Kane was…perfect. She smiled a watery smile, and her eyes followed the white outline of the fire as it flickered in the hearth. Nay, no man was perfect—but he was pretty close.

She did not know a single man who would have shown her the honor he had with her so far, despite how he had taken her maidenhood. That hadn’t been his fault though; he had assumed she was an experienced woman, and she had done nothing to show him otherwise. What had happened, had for her, in a way, been fate. They were close, happy, and she was learning more than she had ever thought possible from him.

Or she had been, until today. He hadn’t looked one bit happy to see her, and the more Connor spoke, the more furious he’d grown. Kane had thought that Saeran and “Alice” had a thing—had he assumed that upon seeing her and Connor together?

She rolled over, bundling herself in the bed. The blankets were becoming damp from her hair and body, but she didn’t care. There was a whole other side waiting for her. She stared at it, wondering if Kane would think of coming back for her tonight. He would fill the bed with his size, but she would be comfortable in his arms. She did not think he would come, as sad as that made her. If their roles had been reversed, she would not have left him alone if she stumbled upon him in tears.

The thought was laughable and painful at the same time. Kane would no more cry than she would run through a fire, blazing and naked, to save Blaine. Kane, though, was a man—a man who had apparent issues with tying himself to a woman. It had taken him more than a full moon to propose to Blaine, even knowing that he would not marry her, and with the added stress of Alice in his life… She understood full well that a man needed space, and also understood that a man like Kane, so rough and brutish and head-strong, would not know what to do in the face of a weeping woman.

That was all right, of course. Every man was entitled to his feelings—or lack thereof.

Blaine had told her all of her life that she wasn’t worth much. She had told Saeran that she didn’t need comfort, that wallowing in her own sorrows when someone else’s problems, like Blaine’s, were much worse, was horrible and selfish.

“Our parents would be ashamed if they knew you were like this,” Blaine would say. Gradually, Saeran had learned to rely on no one but herself. Keep the complaints to her pillow, and turned a blind eye when something began to bother her.

Now, thinking back, she realized that she had let “her sister” destroy her confidence. She had let “her sister” turn her into a slave. She had let her sister abuse her kindness.

There was no one to blame but Saeran for that, and she knew it. Grief and shame had made her weak. She had lived with the consequences, as she deserved to, for allowing Blaine to ruin her life. It was God’s way of punishing her, perhaps.

Saeran didn’t know. All she knew was that things were changing—for the worse.

Blaine wanted to kill her, Kane was angry with her, Connor had lied for her…and there was something else. Something she had suspected, but now felt with a certainty in her gut.

Knock knock.

The pounding on the door jolted her into action. Heart pounding, she pulled a shift over her head with trembling hands. The knocking was furious and loud, enough to hurt her ears. Kane—Kane was there, and he was furious.

She practically ran to the door, excited yet terrified to see him. Saeran yanked it open and—

“I knew it.”

The man standing at the door was not Kane.