Desiring the Highlander (20 page)

Conan cut her off with the wave of his hand. “I know. I know. Roman officials. This map is old, but it certainly does not date back to when Roman consuls were in power. So why would someone write
that
on a map and here?”

Ellenor shrugged her shoulders. “Who knows? Maybe they were raiders who attacked wealthy travelers in the area. Maybe it was just a dangerous journey. Maybe the map was a re-creation of an older one when there
were
Roman consuls. There could be dozens of reasons.”

Conan grimaced and leaned over another drawing right beside the one he had been studying. “Is this Latin? It looks French.”

Ellenor moved closer, but made sure they did not come into contact. “Uh-uh. It’s Latin as well. The languages can be confusing as some words are very similar such as this one—
abundans
—is very similar to the French word,
abondants
. But this word here clearly makes this phrase Latin. In French, the word approach is
approche
, but you can see this is
accedo
. Definitely Latin. Basically, it’s telling the reader to approach this reef with care. I assume it is shallow.”

“Fascinating,” Conan mumbled, sinking into a nearby chair. “Latin, huh? No wonder I have had trouble translating these damn things.” He rubbed his scalp and reassessed the unfamiliar woman who had entered his private domain. “Just what other languages do you know? How did you learn them? And
who
are you, by the way?”

Ellenor’s light laughter filled the room and Conan found himself intrigued by the mysterious beauty. “I am Laurel’s friend from England.”

Conan’s mouth opened slightly and he bobbed his head in memory. “The one she tricked Cole into fetching?”

“The one. My name is Ellenor.”

Conan whistled. “She didn’t say you knew our tongue.”
Hell
, he thought to himself,
our Laurel didn’t mention several things about the Englishwoman, including how beautiful she was or how intelligent.
“How many languages do you know anyway?”

“Only a few both spoken and written.”

“And
Gàidhlig
?”

“I can only speak Gaelic as I have never seen it scribed.”

That knowledge restored a little bit of Conan’s pride and he felt himself breathing easier around her. Until today, he had never encountered anyone who was possibly smarter than he was. Even more disconcerting was that the person was a woman. Women were supposed to be docile and weak, requiring support and nurturing. They needed men, and men needed offspring. That was how it worked, or at least mostly. Laurel was definitely an exception to that rule and it seemed the second Englishwoman he had ever encountered was one as well.

“Anything else you know? Mathematics, science, or are you like Laurel, a hellion with a knife and bow.”

“Nothing like that, I assure you. My passions are few and they do include reading. I was fortunate my father didn’t mind and allowed me to converse with several travelers when I was young.” Ellenor pointed at the door with her thumb. “I think it is time you and I made our way to the Hall. Your lady requests your presence for dinner and I promised Fallon you would be there. So unless you want to tell Laurel that her pretty, empty head is not worthy of your undeniably important task of interpreting a map, then we better leave.”

Conan’s jaw dropped, but no quick retort came out. He finally shook his head in disbelief and followed her out the door and down the stairwell. “If only I had known you would be a scholar
and
had the power to tame Fallon, I would have leaped at the chance to bring you back. I almost feel ashamed of knowing you were forced to travel with my brother.”

Ellenor couldn’t help herself and laughed out loud. Smooth, this young Highlander was not. “Cole was quite the honorable gentleman.”

“Honorable I believe,” Conan smirked, stepping out of the tower and into the inner yard. He looked up. Dark clouds were on the horizon. The wind was starting to pick up, indicating another storm would arrive some time that night. “Heroic maybe, but gentleman? Ha! I don’t think Cole has ever behaved in a courteous, gallant, or any other ‘gentlemanlike’ manner to a single woman. And you’re English!”

Ellenor stopped to turn around. Long dark gold strands of her hair swirled around her face but she ignored them. Her dark green eyes pierced his blue ones and she said, “Cole is…who he is, but he was actually very helpful and I will always be grateful that he came for me. He understands people better than most realize.”

A flicker of desire stirred inside Conan. Ellenor was proving herself a truly exceptional woman. Someone who could look past all of Cole’s harsh qualities, and admire the traits that truly made a man what he was, was a very rare find. Anyone who could do that
and
read several languages was someone to pursue. “Be careful, Lady Ellenor, or I just might ask for your hand in marriage.”

Ellenor turned and started once again toward the Hall. She tried to suppress her laughter, but couldn’t. It finally erupted and its infectious sound caused Conan to join her and all those in earshot to smile.

All but one.

Cole had just returned from seeing his men and was dismounting by the stables when he spied the happy couple leave the North Tower and move toward the Great Hall entrance. Jealousy, white-hot and savage, raced over every nerve. His body tensed with possessive anger, made only stronger knowing he had no right to feel that way. Still, no stab wound had ever hurt quite as much as seeing another man desire Ellenor.

Conan, who treated all women with disdain, was practically falling all over himself. He was like a lost puppy dog, lapping up whatever crumbs she left behind. And who could blame him. Ellenor was stunning.

Dressed no longer in the worn brown bliaut, Ellenor wore a deep crimson gown. The sleeves were gathered at the elbow with gold thread that matched the embroidery around the hems. The rich jewel-colored garment was simple, elegant, and with her long hair being tousled by the breeze, she looked like an angel sent from the heavens. Tonight’s dinner was going to be a more painful experience than he had anticipated.

He needed a drink first.

Throwing his reins to the stable boy, Cole stomped toward the Lower Hall, intending to join Jaime in a few swallows of ale before succumbing to the inevitable. Fate, however, had other plans.

Laurel stepped into the inner yard and spied him before he was even halfway to his target. She shot him a questioning look as if she knew where he was going and intended to intercede. With one hand, she captured her hair to keep it from blowing in the wind, and with the other, took his arm for support. “I am glad you returned for dinner tonight. I had thought you might try to avoid the gathering.”

Cole bit his tongue. That had been exactly what he had planned to do. He had promised to stay until Conor returned, but that hadn’t meant sharing evening meals and being constantly available to Laurel’s whims. Laurel had servants for that. Then Fallon came with his message from Ellenor. It had been brief and in the form of an ultimatum.
Come or I will embarrass you
. The woman had no idea whom she was challenging.

“I’m here tonight, but don’t expect this to happen again.”

Laurel’s blue-green eyes popped open wide to enhance the look of innocence. “I can promise you, Cole, I do not. I am just glad you came this evening. It means a lot to me, and I am sure Ellenor will appreciate your presence as well.”

Cole grunted, pushed the doors to the Great Hall open, and waited for Laurel to enter. They were the last ones to arrive and join the small party. Cole immediately felt out of place in the warm and friendly environment.

Finn, Conor’s commander, who had also been in the training fields, had arrived just moments before. He was kissing his wife, Aileen, hello when Laurel spied them and moved to the side of her best friend and confidante. Finn was soon shooed away by the two women and gladly joined Donald, who Cole guessed was in forced attendance because of his wife, Brighid. The bubbly petite woman, who somehow had caught Donald’s eye, typically preferred Laurel’s company. Tonight, however, she was standing by the large canopied hearth with Ellenor and his brother Conan. They were all giggling over something.

The happy scene was almost perfect. Only his presence marred the room’s social climate. Then Conan, with all the casualness of a Highland cow, stretched and attempted to put his arm around Ellenor’s shoulders.

Cole’s world, which was spiraling down a deep pit of torture, suddenly righted itself again.

At the first touch, Ellenor leaped and spun around, almost toppling into Brighid. Cole had no idea how Ellenor would have justified her reaction if he hadn’t been there, for the moment she regained her balance, her green eyes latched on to his and in one graceful movement began walking toward him as if he was the cause of her bizarre conduct.

“Cole! You came!” she called out in sincere relief and seconds later embraced him in front of everyone.

The feel of her warm body pressed against him sent shock waves of possession and need through his veins. His arms moved of their own accord, encircling her, holding her close. Her sweet scent drifted all around him, binding him to her, reminding him of the smoldering passion waiting to be ignited with a single kiss. “Aye, Elle, I came,” he whispered into her hair, his voice raspy with need. The desire he had tried so hard to suppress heated his blood to nearly uncontrollable levels.

Ellenor pulled back slightly but not enough to break his hold and looked up, smiling. Cole doubted anything could have disarmed him more than the soft, loving curve touching her lips. And he was the cause. Whatever tactics she might have used to persuade him to come this evening, Ellenor did truly want him here. With her.

Taking her hand, he escorted her back to the main table, sat her beside Brighid, and then moved to where Finn and Donald were pulling up chairs to settle down and eat. Conversations had continued, but none reflected the topic on everyone’s mind.

All had witnessed Ellenor’s flight into Cole’s embrace. Even more, they had seen his welcoming response, and none knew what to think. Women just didn’t venture near Cole. They certainly didn’t display affection, and they absolutely did not seek reassurance from him. He never offered comfort…to anyone. That he did just now was more than enough proof that Cole had deep feelings for the young Englishwoman and she for him. The question was, what were they going to do about it?

Everyone settled down at the table and began to eat. Ellenor was introduced to the few guests she had not met. Typical questions arose from her knowing Gaelic to how she and Laurel became friends, but not a soul broached the topic of her and Cole. But as soon as discussions broke off into smaller groups, Brighid finally could hold her tongue no longer. “You and Cole seem to get along pretty well.”

Ellenor swallowed some mead and considered her answer. She shrugged, hoping it came off relaxed and indifferent. “Sometimes.”

Brighid picked up a piece of meat and popped it in her mouth, eyeing her new friend. “Uh,
sometimes
is not what I saw a little while ago. In fact, I would go so far as to say it was—”

“Friendship,” Ellenor declared, interrupting. “What you saw was simply friendship.” She then turned her attention to the food on the table and tried changing the subject. “I know now why Fiona didn’t want fowl. She needs the grease and lard from the pig for her cooking. All she had to do was say so.”

Brighid shook her head. “Whatever are you talking about? Wait, no, on the other hand, I don’t want to know.” She lowered her voice and said, “Cole, Ellenor. That is what we were discussing and don’t switch the topic again. What is going on between you two? I didn’t think it possible for him to be so…”

“What? Understanding? I think a lot of people don’t realize just how much Cole sees and how much he cares about what is going on in their lives.”

“Are we still talking about Cole? The one who believes his sole appointment in life is to train soldiers and fight the English—and by the way you
are
English.”

“As everyone keeps reminding me. But I find it interesting that the subject only comes up whenever Cole and I are mentioned in the same sentence,” Ellenor quipped and then bit down on a piece of bread soaked in gravy. She moaned. Fiona might be one crabby soul, but the woman
could
cook.

Brighid clucked her tongue, unwilling to concede defeat. “Jest all you want, but I saw the look of happiness on your face when you were hugging him, and I also got a good look at the one on his.”

“Happy to see a friend?” Ellenor piped in, hoping if she persisted with the light banter, Brighid would drop the subject and let things be.

“Uh, no. More like a man who wished all of us had disappeared and he had this room
and
you all to himself.”

Ellenor looked around and confirmed no one could hear their conversation. Aileen and Laurel were laughing practically nonstop and Finn, Donald, and Conan were speaking so loud and clanking mugs, daggers, and whatever else was in their hands so often, one would have thought a huge party was taking place and not a small dinner gathering. Cole was participating as well, but just as her gaze kept stealing toward his, his blue eyes kept finding their way to her.

Brighid yanked Ellenor’s arm and got her attention. “Listen, Ellenor, I mean it. Cole is, well, like family and he’s Donald’s commander and probably going to be my laird very shortly. I want to know what exactly happened between you two. Did he? I mean, did you?”

Ellenor reclaimed her arm and hissed, “Of course not!”

Brighid stared in disbelief and was about to argue when full comprehension dawned on her. “But you wished he had. Good Lord, you are in love with him!”

Ellenor stood up abruptly, smiled at the group, and grabbed Brighid’s forearm, tugging her off the stool. “I’m cold. Let’s talk over by the fire.”

No one, except Cole, paid them any attention. She saw a brief look of concern and sent him a quick smile before focusing on Brighid, who was not being deterred. “You are in love with him! You wouldn’t have dragged me all the way over here unless it was true. And he loves you!” Brighid reached over and crushed Ellenor in her arms. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am. I mean, you and I, whatever happens, we’ll know that there is at least one good friend nearby to—”

Ellenor pulled free. “You are both right and wrong. I do love Cole, but he
doesn’t
love me.”

Brighid waved her finger toward the entrance. “I don’t believe you. I saw him return that embrace.”

Ellenor looked at Cole, who was staring at the two of them. Again, she tossed him a brief smile and snatched Brighid’s wagging finger. “Lord, you are obvious.”

“Me!” Brighid retorted, freeing her finger, only to point it at herself. “I wasn’t the one who threw herself at one of the most emotionally distant men the world has ever created.”

Ellenor rolled her eyes and plopped into one of the hearth chairs, dropping her head into her hands. “I know, but what am I supposed to do?”

Brighid sank into the chair next to her and said, “That man responded—no, he
welcomed
—you. He is starving for what you have to give him. How could he not be in love?”

“Simple. I asked him to stay and he refused. He wants to leave, never see me again, and forget I ever existed. And he’s going to, as soon as Laurel’s husband returns.”

“And you are going to just let him?”

“I wasn’t going to,” Ellenor bristled. “I had planned to find a way to make him stay, but then Laurel did that for me this morning. And my next plan will never work. I can’t do it.”

“Do what?”

Ellenor toyed with the deep blue fabric covering the chair’s arm. “I had thought to make Cole jealous. Make him realize that if he didn’t want me, others would. But you saw how ridiculous that is. Conan barely touched me and I went flying across the room making an idiot of myself. The only person here who is jealous is me, and not of another woman, but of a dead man whom Cole holds more dear than a future with me. There. I’ve said it. Now you know.”

Brighid’s rich brown eyes went very large. She slumped back in her chair and muttered, “Oh, my. I don’t know what to say other than Cole has an even colder heart than I thought.”

Ellenor shook her head and stared into the hearth. Only two of the three pits were lit and the dark shadows in the empty niche echoed what she felt inside. “You’re wrong. Cole feels things deeply. He just doesn’t want anyone to know. He uses his code of honor to mask his reasons for keeping himself apart.”

“I hope he knows what it is costing him.”

Ellenor’s gaze floated to Cole across the room. He was talking and the corners of his mouth were turned up as if he was smiling, but when he glanced her way, she could tell his laughter had not reached his eyes. They were a deep startling blue, but they were not dancing as she had seen them do with her.

The doors suddenly burst open and a cool wind swept through the room. All rose to their feet just as a large, burly man with scraggly auburn hair and matching beard entered the room. Laurel cried out, “Hamish! Is Conor here?”

Ellenor watched the Highland giant gently squeeze Laurel hello and shake his head. “He did send me with news, which is why I made my way here when the stable master said you, Finn, and Cole were gathered inside.”

Cole stepped forward. His expression was blank, with the exception of his eyes. Tension swam in their piercing gaze. Hamish grabbed Cole’s extended forearm and said, “Talks continue, but Conor wanted me to ride back and ensure Laurel was in good health. I am to tell you he will return in a week’s time with word.”

Ellenor didn’t hide her bafflement. “They
still
haven’t made a decision!” Her harsh whisper echoed throughout the room.

Hamish’s gaze moved to Ellenor in perplexed wonder. He glanced at Cole and then at Laurel and back to the mysterious woman who was defending Cole.

Laurel took pity on the soldier and patted his arm. “Hamish, this is Ellenor Howell, an old friend.”

Ellenor curtsied, giving Hamish an excellent view of her cleavage. He swallowed and tried to act unaffected by the surprising beauty in his laird’s Great Hall. “It is a difficult decision, one in which everyone feels very strongly. However, the laird is making progress. He must be or he wouldn’t have sent me here to give you word.” He spoke the words to Cole, but his eyes never left Ellenor’s.

“I take it then you haven’t been a part of the talks,” Cole surmised, his voice level and calm, belying the true depth of what he was feeling. Only his white knuckles gave him away.

Hamish finally wrenched his gaze free. “Very little, and I cannot tell you which way the group is leaning, Cole, but the laird wanted me to assure you that it will not be much longer. That is all I know.”

Laurel let go a deep sigh the whole room was holding. She grabbed Hamish’s arm and said, “Please join us. You must be famished after such a ride and the weather is beginning to act foul again.”

“I might grab a side of meat, but then I must see to a few things before I return.”