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“Who painted that tree ye have hangin’ over there?” Her eyes shifted for a moment as she found the air in the room getting harder and harder to take in.

“Why do ye want to ken?”

“It looks familiar. Like somethin’ I’ve seen in a dream. In fact, there are a lot of paintings ye have that play at the edges of my dreams.”

Gabriel sighed as he grabbed her hand to stop her from tracing the lines of his vest. How he wanted her but he knew if she continued teasing him, he wouldn’t be able to restrain his desires.

“I’m certain if ye think long enough, the answer will come to ye.”

Elena turned her eyes to the painting and studied it. She could feel Gabriel’s eyes on her, as if expecting the answer to slip from her lips any moment.

“We were children,” she mumbled as a frayed memory became clearer the longer she looked at the painting. “Out on the glen.”

In the corner of her eye she noticed Gabriel’s head bobbing. Her heart quickened as she faced him.

“We were there,” she whispered as her hand drifted to his. She gasped as his fingers entwined into hers.

“Aye,” he said. “Many years ago.”

The shock of his delicate touch startled her as it stirred feelings deep within her. With her eyes lingering on their hands, she found herself wishing he would touch more than just her hand.

“I’ve seen a lot of these kinds of paintings around the castle,” she said. Her voice sounded foreign to her as Gabriel kept his eyes on her. Looking up into his eyes, she noticed a passion stirring within him that mirrored the desires that bubbled inside her.

Immediately she pulled her hand away. Shame drowned the desires and squashed the thoughts that were playing in the back of her mind.

What is he tryin’ to pull on me? Does he think he can make me forget all the horrid things he did when we were children?

“Are ye alright?” Gabriel asked as he straightened himself.

“Why do ye insist on torturin’ me?”

“And how precisely am I torturin’ ye?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. The softness in his gaze shifted.

“This whole arrangement was a mistake. Ye and my uncle forced me into this mess, but I am the one sufferin’ for it.”

“Nay one forced ye into this marriage. Ye had a choice and ye dinnae speak up when ye could have. Now ye must live wit’ that choice.”

“Ye mean live in solitude? I might as well have become a nun.”

“I daenae see why yer so hostile to me. If anythin’ ye should be thankin’ me for the life I’m offerin’ ye.”

Her heart sank as if being plunged into an abyss. The world seemed to spin around her and she stumbled backward. All the strength she had faded from her causing her to drop into the chair. Shaking her head, she couldn’t understand how he thought this would be what she wanted.

“Thankin’ ye?” she mumbled as she mulled over Gabriel’s words.

“Aye. Ye daenae want for anythin’. Yer free to do as ye please and yet ye daenae. It’s just like seein’ the calf bein’ born. Yer so afraid of steppin’ outside of yer own mind to realize all I’ve given to ye. All I’ve done for ye.”

“And what have ye done?” she hissed.

Gabriel’s eyes narrowed. The anger flooded through him causing his face to turn red. He stepped forward, and grabbed the back of the chair she sat in. Holding her gaze, his lips twitched as he spoke.

“If it werenae for me interferrin’ wit’ yer life, ye’d be married to Laird Boone right now. Do ye nae ken that?”

Elena gasped as Gabriel’s confession rocked her to her core. “Laird Boone? But he’s thrice my age.”

The wrinkled old man’s face flickered through her mind. Although she had only met Laird Boone a few short times, she never thought her uncle would find him a suitable match for her. She had recalled how Laird Boone treated his servants in front of her. How he was cruel, yet feeble. She swallowed hard, forcing the image of him out of her mind.

“Aye, do ye nae think I ken that? And what do ye suppose a man like that would do to a lass like ye? Do ye think he’d give ye the free will to do and say as ye please? To raise yer voice and carry on as if yer better than him? Because yer lyin’ to yerself if ye think ye’d be better off wit’ him.”


Tags: Lydia Kendall Wicked Highlanders Historical