Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,39

ye want me to leave now?”

“Yes, as soon as you can.”

“I will see it done.”

“Thank you.”

Norris reached out and took the scroll. Then the guardian turned and left the temple without another word.

“That captain of yers is handsome, is he not?”

Aila glanced up from her bannock to see that Fyfa was favoring her with a knowing smile. They sat at the long table in the kitchens, breaking their fast. Fyfa had revealed that ever since Edward’s occupation of Stirling, she and her husband were expected to take their meals with the servants.

Indeed, Hume Comyn—a big, muscular man with short dark red hair and a solemn face—was on to his second bowl of porridge at the far end of the table.

Fyfa should have taken her place next to him, but instead, she’d sat next to Aila.

And now Aila knew why.

Her jaw tensed. She wasn’t in the mood to discuss Cassian this morning. She was still reeling from the night before, caught between joy and misery. He’d kissed her like she was his world, and then he’d recoiled like she’d just turned into the bean-nighe. She might as well have transformed into the crone who brought an omen of death, for the horror she’d seen in his eyes.

“He’s not my captain,” Aila replied, hoping that the frown accompanying her words would warn Fyfa off. Yet it didn’t.

“He’s so tall and strong,” Fyfa continued, still smiling. “And that accent … where’s he from?”

“Spain.”

It was loud in the kitchens, the rumble of voices echoing off the surrounding stone. As such, the other servants were oblivious to the women’s conversation. All the same, the subject was making Aila feel nervous.

She was new to this. She didn’t understand what she’d done to make him recoil so. He’d acted as if she’d enchanted him, and then he’d come to his senses.

Cassian was a sore subject. She certainly didn’t need Fyfa rubbing his attractiveness in her face. She knew just how handsome he was—and now she knew how he tasted too.

“He’s got the bonniest eyes I’ve ever seen,” Fyfa continued, seemingly oblivious to Aila’s discomfort. “Brown, green, and gold.”

Aila tensed. She didn’t like the glint in Fyfa’s eye. She was a wedded woman, yet that didn’t stop her from commenting on Cassian. Aila wondered just how loyal she was to her husband.

Reaching for a pot of heather honey, Aila started to spread it over her wedge of bannock. She wasn’t hungry, but she needed something to do.

Feeling Fyfa’s gaze upon her, she eventually looked her way. The woman wasn’t smiling now; instead, she wore an assessing look, her blue eyes narrowed. “Ye are infatuated with him.”

Aila swallowed hard. Infatuated. She hated that word. It made her feelings for Cassian sound trivial and childish. “No, I’m not,” she snapped. “I’m in love with him.”

As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. The interest that flared in Fyfa’s eyes made her go cold.

Mother Mary, what have I said?

After a moment, Fyfa’s expression softened. “Don’t look so afraid Aila … I’m not about to go running through the castle screaming the news.” Her tone held a slight note of chagrin, as if Aila’s look of panic offended her. “Although I’d like to know what ye intend to do about this?”

Aila put down the spoon she’d been using to spread honey over her bannock. Her stomach now churned. “Last night, after ye left … he kissed me,” she admitted shakily.

A slow smile stretched across Fyfa’s face. “And?”

“It was … passionate … but then he seemed to regret it. I fear I’ve chased him off.”

Fyfa’s smile faded, her expression turning thoughtful. She picked up her cup of warm goat’s milk and took a sip. “He’s tormented,” she said after a pause. “I sensed it the moment he spoke to us.”

Aila stiffened. Why hadn’t she noticed this? It was hardly surprising she hadn’t though, given her lack of experience in matters of the heart. Fortunately, Fyfa appeared a worldlier woman. “Tormented?”

“Aye … but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want ye. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s had his heart broken in the past and is wary of repeating the mistake. He’ll run if ye let him … but a man like that needs to have his hand forced.”

Aila’s pulse accelerated—the woman’s suggestion both thrilled and terrified her. But how can I make him to truly want me?

Sensing her turmoil, Fyfa flashed Aila a wicked smile. “Lucky for ye we met. I can see ye need my help with this … and fear