Read Online The Chieftain's Yule Bride - a Highland Christmas novella (Clan MacKrannan's Secret Traditions #10) by Jonnet Carmichael - Free Book Online
Authors: Jonnet Carmichael
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after.
A silence opened at the utterance of the name that Callum was no' keen to fill, considering Freya was in his passenger seat headed the opposite direction from her fiancé in Dubai.
She'd been turning to look at the back seat constantly since they left, so he asked her, "Enough of a hospitality present, do you think, or should we stop at a florist's?"
"It's perfect, and she'll really appreciate you doing that. Let me buy you lunch. It's the least I can do."
Five miles later her head jerked round again to look out the rear window and then came back to stare in her wing mirror as if worried they were being followed. She didn't know what was bothering her and he didn't tell her.
They stopped in Fort William and he got to face her over the table for a while, drinking in her nearness while he answered her questions. Probing ones, they were. Less of the 'Where did you go to school' stuff and far more of the 'Have you ever been married yourself' and 'Are you seeing anyone now' kind, though she sneaked them in amongst ordinary chatter and did no' put them so plainly.
He let her know that aye, he had a girlfriend until this week. Nothing serious between them anyway. And no, he'd never been married.
She was a damned sight more relaxed in the restaurant than she'd been in the car. It was as if they were out on a date, which in his mind they were, and in some corner of hers too if he was reading the signs right – even though she was wearing sensible outdoor clothes and hiking boots much like his own, though half the size.
Denims hid little and he was glad of the overhanging tablecloth. He'd changed out of his kilt, thinking it would look like a castle uniform when he needed her to break that connection, to see only the man. Mistake. He made do with taking the bill from the waitress and holding it over his crotch when he stood up and disappeared to pay it with his back turned.
Near Drumnadrochit they pulled into a layby to stretch their legs along the side of Loch Ness while there was still some daylight, and she asked him the queerest question.
"Any monsters in your dungeons?"
He didn't laugh. She'd taken a breath before asking, and kept looking at the water when she did. The legend of Nessie the Loch Ness Monster had become nowt but a story for the tourists and fine she knew that, but it came to him what her real question might be.
"None that I've met nor heard of. Our dungeons were only ever used for temporary capture by one generation and never since. My ancestors used a wee island nearby as a prison to keep the worst away from the clansfolk. The castle is a clean place in that respect."
That brought a smile to her face. If his suspicions were right about what had happened in the Turret of the East, this lass had a wee touch of her Auntie's feyness about her and would be sensitive to lingering things like that.
"Can we walk a little longer?" she asked.
"Fine with me."
Up to her. She'd know the journey time from here and when they were expected.
The sun had gone down by the time they drove through Inverness and she navigated him onto the Monlachan road. After cutting through the village she reached into her pocket for a handkerchief and said, "Do you mind if I nip to the Clootie Well? The sign's coming up on the left. I won't be long. "
"In a forest, in the dark?"
"Who's the big feartie now, Callum? I don't mind it. I grew up here, remember? It's hardly worth visiting now until after the tourists have gone."
He pulled into the deserted car park and doused the headlights. Near pitch black and the new moon the only light source. He switched them on again full beam to light the footpath ahead.
"Please, turn them off. It spoils it."
"Will you let me come with you?"
"Yes – if you leave an offering. A superstition thing," she added cheekily, mimicking his comment in the Banqueting Hall. "You know the way of that."
"I do. Another of our islands has its
A silence opened at the utterance of the name that Callum was no' keen to fill, considering Freya was in his passenger seat headed the opposite direction from her fiancé in Dubai.
She'd been turning to look at the back seat constantly since they left, so he asked her, "Enough of a hospitality present, do you think, or should we stop at a florist's?"
"It's perfect, and she'll really appreciate you doing that. Let me buy you lunch. It's the least I can do."
Five miles later her head jerked round again to look out the rear window and then came back to stare in her wing mirror as if worried they were being followed. She didn't know what was bothering her and he didn't tell her.
They stopped in Fort William and he got to face her over the table for a while, drinking in her nearness while he answered her questions. Probing ones, they were. Less of the 'Where did you go to school' stuff and far more of the 'Have you ever been married yourself' and 'Are you seeing anyone now' kind, though she sneaked them in amongst ordinary chatter and did no' put them so plainly.
He let her know that aye, he had a girlfriend until this week. Nothing serious between them anyway. And no, he'd never been married.
She was a damned sight more relaxed in the restaurant than she'd been in the car. It was as if they were out on a date, which in his mind they were, and in some corner of hers too if he was reading the signs right – even though she was wearing sensible outdoor clothes and hiking boots much like his own, though half the size.
Denims hid little and he was glad of the overhanging tablecloth. He'd changed out of his kilt, thinking it would look like a castle uniform when he needed her to break that connection, to see only the man. Mistake. He made do with taking the bill from the waitress and holding it over his crotch when he stood up and disappeared to pay it with his back turned.
Near Drumnadrochit they pulled into a layby to stretch their legs along the side of Loch Ness while there was still some daylight, and she asked him the queerest question.
"Any monsters in your dungeons?"
He didn't laugh. She'd taken a breath before asking, and kept looking at the water when she did. The legend of Nessie the Loch Ness Monster had become nowt but a story for the tourists and fine she knew that, but it came to him what her real question might be.
"None that I've met nor heard of. Our dungeons were only ever used for temporary capture by one generation and never since. My ancestors used a wee island nearby as a prison to keep the worst away from the clansfolk. The castle is a clean place in that respect."
That brought a smile to her face. If his suspicions were right about what had happened in the Turret of the East, this lass had a wee touch of her Auntie's feyness about her and would be sensitive to lingering things like that.
"Can we walk a little longer?" she asked.
"Fine with me."
Up to her. She'd know the journey time from here and when they were expected.
The sun had gone down by the time they drove through Inverness and she navigated him onto the Monlachan road. After cutting through the village she reached into her pocket for a handkerchief and said, "Do you mind if I nip to the Clootie Well? The sign's coming up on the left. I won't be long. "
"In a forest, in the dark?"
"Who's the big feartie now, Callum? I don't mind it. I grew up here, remember? It's hardly worth visiting now until after the tourists have gone."
He pulled into the deserted car park and doused the headlights. Near pitch black and the new moon the only light source. He switched them on again full beam to light the footpath ahead.
"Please, turn them off. It spoils it."
"Will you let me come with you?"
"Yes – if you leave an offering. A superstition thing," she added cheekily, mimicking his comment in the Banqueting Hall. "You know the way of that."
"I do. Another of our islands has its
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