Page 20 of The Guardian

“Teller will be disappointed at losing the attention Tobin gave him,” Ailith said, a hint of sadness slipping into her tone.

Of course the young lad would be glad to return to his own bed and not sleep in the cold every night. Still, she was selfish in having enjoyed the company and sense of security at night.

“The men have been captured. There is nae need for ye to be worried that they will return here.”

Hendry’s statement made her look up into his eyes. “I am glad. Surely the laird will nae go easy when doling out their punishment.”

The reaction that her words caused was unexpected. Hendry closed his eyes and let out a breath before nodding. “Do ye care to go for a walk? I have need to stretch my legs.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to decline, but at the same time, she wanted to know what had caused his reaction to her statement about the assailant’s punishment.

They were quiet as they made their way along a narrow path that she often used when foraging for herbs. Their footfalls crushing twigs and fallen leaves causing birds to burst from bushes and fly in unison to a higher haven. Their loud chirps announcing their displeasure.

“Ye are fortunate to live in such a peaceful place,” Hendry said, hands down his sides as he walked beside her. “I am nae sure that I would be content without seeing others at least daily.”

Ailith let out a breath. “Although I have very little choice in the matter, as it was the home where Brant and I lived, I do enjoy the solitude. I must admit to being lonely most days, however.”

Annoyed at herself for sharing, Ailith pressed her lips shut vowing to not repeat the mistake again. “Ye live inside the keep then?”

Hendry shook his head. “I live in one of the cottages near the stables. I prefer not to be inside the main house where there are always servants and visitors underfoot. I only go there to meet with the laird and for meals.”

Not knowing very much about his current life was strange given how they’d both professed their love for one another in the past. Now it was as if he’d become a new person. A guarded man whose tones and expressions revealed very little about what he thought.

Though, perhaps because in the past she had known him so well, Ailith could see past the front he put up, past the façade he presented. She knew no matter how unbothered he appeared, something burdened him. Something was pressing on his mind.

“What is it, Hendry? Something troubles ye greatly.” Ailith gave him a pointed look. “And dinnae lie to me and say there is nae on yer mind.”

He stopped walking and nodded. “If I am to be honest, ye are the first person I considered talking to. Perhaps because at one time, ye were my advisor and always guided me so well.”

The last thing she wanted to think about was the past. The way they’d talked late into the night, whenever able to steal away. They’d developed a relationship where they’d spoken freely, without fear of judgement. They often gave each other advice, or if it was warranted, comfort.

“Whatever it is, ye can tell me,” Ailith said quietly, within her there was a warring of sentimentalities. On one hand, she would help anyone even those she didn’t care for. On the other, she feared he was chipping away at the protective wall she’d so painstakingly built. Warnings rang wildly inside every part of her being.

He lifted his head and met her gaze. Whatever troubled him was grave indeed.

“The laird has decreed that I will be the one who decides what their punishment is to be. Although I have battled many times, have taken lives, it has always been because I am defending my own life, or that of others. I have never had to decide of how it is to be carried out. To end a life…” he finished quietly.

As he ran both hands down his face in what seemed to be exhaustion, Ailith considered how to reply.

“It is best to think of the families of the people who suffered under their hand. Though it’s harder to think of yerself, since as a warrior ye put yer life on the line all the time. Ye should think of yerself. If not for making it to my cottage, ye would be dead. How would yer family feel then? Would yer parents blame themselves for nae having insisted ye stay longer? Otherwise, ye would have avoided the danger. What those men did deserves punishment, and they nothing less than what they did to others.”

Hendry kept his gaze forward, the only sign he’d heard her was a slight nod. So Ailith continued, “This is nae a time for guilt. It is a time to be glad for them being captured. A time to have pride in that ye and yer men are keeping the clans’ people safe.”

Once again, he nodded, but this time his shoulders visibly relaxed. “Yer words. The way ye say things has always helped me get through hard situations.”

When he spoke, it was as if the years apart melted away, as if they’d not been living separate lives all this time. Immediately she wanted to flee, to get away from him and how tempting it was to slip back into a life in which Hendry was a large part.

“We should return. Any moment now Teller will come rushing to find me.” She turned, not waiting for Hendry to respond, then stopped when his hand curled around her upper arm.

“We should talk,” Hendry said in a quiet voice. “I need to ken the truth, the real reason for what happened between us.”

At once her heart began thundering. What could she say that he didn’t already know? It wouldn’t solve anything to dredge up these old wounds. There was nothing he could say that would make things better.

Ailith looked up into his eyes. The sincerity was obvious, but there was something deeper as well. It was the look he gave her just before declaring his love. How could a man who claimed to love her, was then unfaithful, and had not sought her upon his return, expect explanations from her now?

The cruel truth clung to her like a second skin. Despite everything, her heart still ached for him. Forgiveness wasn’t a choice; it was a demand. Hendry had always held her soul in the palm of his callused hand, even when she tried to will it back. Yes, she had loved Brant, but it had been gentle, kind… safe. What she felt for Hendry was nothing less than ruinous. A love that consumed.

That burned.