Cassian (The Immortal Highland Centurions #2) - Jayne Castel Page 0,4
nothing to do with such brutality.”
“She has everything to do with this,” Blair countered, biting out the words. “The messenger told me that my cousin Cory had an altercation with both Heather and that foreigner before leaving Fintry. Cory tracked them north, but was never heard from again. Eventually, my uncle sent out men to search for him.”
“That’s not proof.”
Blair’s mouth twisted into a sneer. “It’s all the evidence I need.”
He then grasped one of her breasts and squeezed hard.
Crying out in outrage, Aila raised a hand and struck him across the face.
Blair didn’t even reel back in shock. He just stood there, immovable as a boulder. Something dark and frightening shifted in his eyes. “Ye shall regret that, Aila De Keith,” he murmured.
“Will she?”
A man’s voice rang out across the stairwell.
Aila craned her neck to the right, peering over the barrier of Blair’s muscular frame, to see a tall man clad in chainmail and leather standing above them. A plaid cloak in cross-hatchings of blue, turquoise and green—her clan’s colors—hung from his broad shoulders.
Aila’s breathing caught, her limbs weakening as relief flooded through her.
“Let the girl go,” Cassian Gaius, Captain of the Dunnottar Guard, continued. “Before you do something you regret.”
Blair Galbraith spat out a curse. “Walk away, Captain. This is none of yer business.”
Cassian inclined his head. His gaze was hooded, his expression cold. “Step away and go back to your forge.” He moved, descending the stairwell toward them.
Blair’s face twisted. However, the captain didn’t utter another threat. He just waited for the smith to do as bid.
Aila’s pulse quickened once more. She wasn’t sure Galbraith would heed him.
Tense moments stretched out, and then, surprisingly, Blair released Aila and stepped back.
Aila drew in a shaky breath. Her legs wobbled under her, although she remained where she was, frozen against the wall.
“This isn’t over,” the smith growled, pinning Aila under his stare, the captain forgotten. “Ye and I shall continue this later.”
“Enough, Galbraith,” Cassian cut in, a harsh edge to his voice. “If I ever catch you intimidating Aila De Keith again, I’ll shove your teeth down your throat.”
Blair snorted and cast the captain a malevolent look before turning his back on him. “All ye cèin are the same,” he muttered. The smith then moved off down the stairwell. Moments later, the postern door thumped closed behind him.
Wordlessly, Cassian descended the stairs so that he stood level with Aila. Like Blair, the captain was tall. Aila had to crane her neck up to meet his eye.
But when she did, the knot in her belly dissolved. Transfixed, she stared up at him.
Never, in the three years that Cassian had been at Dunnottar, had he given her his full attention like this. She knew he had hazel eyes, but this close, she saw his irises were flecked with brown, gold, and green. He had a strong jaw, an aquiline nose, and tanned skin that she longed to trace her fingertips along.
Cassian Gaius wasn’t a Scot, but a Spaniard. Unlike most men at Dunnottar, who sported long hair and beards, he was clean shaven and wore his brown hair short.
How many nights had Aila lain in bed imagining what it would be like to run her hands through his hair? What would it feel like? Soft like thistle-down, or coarser like a pony’s mane?
Staring down at her, his brow furrowed, concern clouded Cassian’s eyes. “Did he hurt you, Aila?”
Aila’s breathing caught. Twice now, he’d used her name. She loved the way he said it too; his slight accent made her name sound beautiful. Cassian was a man of principle and honor. Her father, who was steward here, often spoke highly of him. Folk here admired his calm, stoic manner.
And over the years, Aila had grown increasingly desperate to catch glimpses of Dunnottar’s enigmatic captain, desperate to gain a moment of his attention.
Aila swallowed, forcing herself to focus. She then rubbed the spots upon her upper arms where Galbraith had grabbed her. “I’ll likely bear some bruises,” she admitted. “The smith has a fierce grip … but apart from that, I am well.”
Cassian’s mouth thinned. “You faced him bravely.”
Warmth flowered within Aila at his praise. “I did?”
“I’d just entered the stairwell when I heard the slap you gave him.”
“Aye, but it was like striking a boulder. He didn’t even flinch.”
The captain’s gaze glinted. “He’ll do more than flinch if I ever catch him cornering you like that again.”
II
DAYDREAMS
“WHAT HAPPENED ON the road to Dunnottar?”
Heather glanced up from the flowers she was arranging in