For days, Kirstin avoided Lachlan. Whenever the laird would come near to approaching her, she would scurry off to another room. At least twice now, had Lachlan demanded her presence but both times Kirstin had come up with an excuse to be sent back to him through Roderick. It was evident that Lachlan's patience was wearing.
Kirstin became more involved in her duties, often a time taking on extra chores so that Lachlan would not take advantage of her spare time. She had also been keeping her daily routine of going into town with Alana.
Graham had been making his presence quite known, making small talk and trying to get to know her better, but she was not having any of it. Kirstin frequently gave him a cold shoulder and would turn away, only to have the arrogant man follow after her. Needless to say, the young blonde was relieved every time Alana and her would make leave. Though, it seemed that every time Kirstin walked away from Graham to return to the manor, he would have a set look on his face. It was a look of frustration and determination, but she spared him little thought.
It was one particular morning that Alana and Kirstin had returned to the kitchen of Lachlan's great manor, that they had found Roderick waiting for them. The young brown-haired squire was leaning against one of the stone counters, his knee bent, and a smirk across his lips.
"Good morning, sir." Alana had greeted him, but she soon noticed that he was not looking at her and instead at Kirstin. His intense gaze was set on the blonde, "Kirstin." He said, holding a hand up and motioning for her to come towards him.
She set down the few items that she had been carrying and hesitantly walked over to Roderick. He stood up from his leaning position and brought his face close to her own, "The laird is upset with ye."
Kirstin's mouth had fallen agape and she questioned, "He is?"
Roderick's smirk seemed to grow and he nodded his head once, "Aye. Ye have been avoiding him, and he has taken notice." Kirstin frowned. Though, her obvious discomfort did not keep him from asking, "Why have ye been avoiding him?"
By now, Alana and the other servants had stopped what they were doing within the kitchen to watch their conversation. Kirstin's only reaction was her failure to speak. She stuttered for nearly a minute, unsure of how to answer his question. How could she possibly explain to him her earlier realization? Not only was it embarrassing, but also it was inappropriate!
This made Roderick smile all too knowingly, "'Tis what I thought." Then he winked at her, "Well, ye better start thinking of a better answer than that because the laird is on his way right now." Before Kirstin could object to his statement, the door to the kitchen opened abruptly.
"Speak of the devil..." Roderick trailed, patting a hand on her shoulder and making his leave, his smirk not faltering.
Kirstin gulped and squeezed her eyes shut. She only hoped that she was having a nightmare and that she would wake up from it momentarily. It was only when Lachlan's words cut through the room, his tone booming, that she knew she was surely not dreaming, "Everyone makes leave except for Kirstin."
Kirstin could hear the shuffling of feet from around her and could hear Alana snicker in the distance. When the several servants had left the room, Kirstin opened her eyes and turned around.
A gasp escaped from her rosy lips as she came face to face with Lachlan. He had closed the distance between them and stood but a foot away from her. The most frightening part was his glaring eyes and the distinct sneer that had made its way to his face.
Lachlan was furious.
Kirstin gulped once more, and shakily took a step back only to have him follow her. The actions were repeated several more times before she had pressed herself against the edge of a counter. Lachlan came so close to her that their chests were just barely touching.
"I can explain." Kirstin rushed. She already knew what he wanted to know, due to Roderick's brief warning.
His eyes seemed to grow darker and his voice was lowered several pitches as he growled out through clenched teeth, "Can ye now?"
The timid girl nodded, "Aye."
"Please," he said, "Please do, Kirstin. For whenever my presence is known, ye rush to another room. When ye see me in the hall, ye turn the corner. And when I demand yer appearance, ye donna show. Why have ye been avoiding me?"
"Because," she breathed, "I have been busy with my duties as a servant."
Kirstin was naturally a good liar but something crossed Lachlan's face, telling her that he had caught the lie. He pressed his body harder against hers and brought his lips to her ear. His breath tickled her, causing shivers to rake down her spine.
"What have I told ye about lying to me?" he whispered lowly.
Kirstin was speechless. The person who she feared most had caught her, and the worst part was that she was trapped between his body and the counter.
"Care to try again?" he whispered once more. Heat was radiating from his body, and she knew that he was fuming.
"Nay," Kirstin choked, "I canna." By now, she could feel the frustration welt up inside of her. How could she explain to him that she knew how he felt towards her? It was wrong. He was her laird, and she was his servant. Surely nothing good would come out of it?
Something in him changed after she said those words. His body relaxed and his shoulders dropped. She could feel his breath trailing lower, to the area of her neck below her ear, "Is it," he began, "because of this?"
At that very moment, Lachlan did not hesitate to press his lips against her bare neck. It was a tender kiss, one that was soft to her skin. He did it again, trailing lower, and then another time. When Kirstin did not object, even though it was from shock, he took her silence as a sign to continue.
His lips parted just briefly, enough for the kiss to become wet and more passionate. Kirstin found herself instinctually wrapping her arms around him, pressing him more into her.
She could feel Lachlan grin against the kiss when she did that, approving of her reaction. The heated moment lasted only a few more minutes, even though it felt like hours, before he finally withdrew.
Lachlan nuzzled his chin atop of her head, and held her close to his strong body. His bulging arms wrapped around her in the hug, and Kirstin only felt protected in his embrace. As wrong as it was for them to be together, it only felt so right.
Finally, Lachlan placed a sweet kiss to her head and whispered, "I ken why ye have been avoiding me so." And then with two more firm words, he said, "No more hiding from me."
He let go of her after that. Kirstin almost whimpered when his arms left her body, which not only surprised her but also terrified her.
As Lachlan spared her one last glance, he left the room. She stood frozen in place, stunned at what had just happened between them. Most importantly, Kirstin found herself astonished by how she had melted into him like butter. She had never responded towards any man as she did with Lachlan.
Alana and the other servants filed back into the room after that. Alana slowly approached Kirstin, asking, "What happened?"
Snapping out of her thoughts, she met the old woman's gaze.
"I," Kirstin began, but could not finish her sentence. It was obvious to the others that she was shaken from nerves. In an instant, Kirstin ran out outside through the backdoor of the kitchen.
She did not think twice about making her way to the trees from which the journal was hidden. Unable to get Lachlan off her mind, she could not think of a better way to satisfy her never-ending thoughts than to read his valuable words. Perhaps, she would receive answers from the journal, as to why he was behaving the way he did.
Reaching a hand between the roots of the tree from which it was concealed, she was grateful to touch the leather cover. A grin etched its way on her lips, and only a moment more had she clutched the journal close to her chest as if it were her most precious finding.
Kirstin sat amidst the field once more, her dress sprawled out around her and the sun's beams making her skin glisten. Then, she opened the pages to the next entry. Her eyes scanned each line with accuracy as she read every word carefully.
It was no' more than a couple of hours by the time my father had his men standing in a formation. Clad in weaponry and protective chest plates, they couldna have looked anymore intimidating.
I had barely been given the chance to let my eyes linger any longer, before my father had guided me away from the strong men. I was no' like them, yet I had wanted to be. Most of all, I wanted to be like my father.
He picked my wee self up and kissed the top of my head. To most, a fearful man as large as my father kissing his child would seem pathetic. His clan had ken to the bond of a father and son, and would never question the love my father had for me.
Just like that, he handed me to my mother. She had dressed in a green gown despite the late hour.
"Take Lachlan, and the both of ye hide in the cellar." My father spoke with a stern tone, "I donna want either of ye to be involved in this."
My mother did no' question him, and she carried me to the cellar to where many of the servants hid as well.
She had sat me in her lap and began to sing the lullaby she always did when I couldna sleep. In mere moments, my eyes drifted shut and I had fallen into a slumber.
Sleep did no' last long for I had been abruptly awoken by the harsh yells of men and the clanks of metal against metal. My mother squeezed her eyes shut and was rocking me back and forth, her lullaby becoming drowned by the painful cries of the fighting men.
The bloodshed must have lasted hours, before a man from our clan opened the cellar doors and announced that it was all over.
"We have gained victory." The man yelled while the servants and my mother began to stand on their feet.
"How is my husband?" my mother had rushed, her voice more than worried. She held onto my hand tightly, pulling me behind her as she walked towards the man.
He gave her a regretful look, "Lady Bateson," his eyes straying lower, "I fear that Laird Bateson has been wounded."
"Where is he?" she snapped in response.
The man's gaze met hers once more, "I feel that 'tis no' the best time to see him."
She glared harshly at him, "Where is he?" she grounded out once more.
Defeated, he whispered, "Follow me. I will take ye to him."
My mother was never one for backing down, and as she dragged me along behind her, she kept her head raised high. She seemed unaffected by the mangled bodies on the ground, but I ken that determination was the only thing keeping her strong.
My mother saw my father before I did. I ken because of the way her face fell and her hand tensed around mine. It was only when she knelt down next to him, did I see the gruesome sight.
Blood was gushing from his stomach and it was clear to me that he had been stabbed brutally. My father was gasping for breath, as the pain was most likely unbearable.
My mother covered her mouth with her hand, and began to sob at his side. He reached a cold hand out to her face and stroked the side of it lovingly, "My heart will only ever beat for ye." He whispered, making her eyes shut at the dying sound of his voice.
Then, his gaze met mine and he choked, "Come here, my boy."
Still so young, I did no' completely understand what was happening but I felt fear for my father. I knelt down next to him, too, and he placed a heavy hand on my knee.
"Take care of yer mother. Yer now in charge, son." He choked, tears brimming my father's eyes. I had never seen him cry before, "I am so proud of ye."
Those were his last words to me, as his hand dropped to the ground and his eyes closed for the final time.
A few years later, when I had only the age of eight, my mother became bed ridden. Her illness only grew worse, and the servants practically forbid me to see to her. I will never forget the day she passed, for the clouds had been gray and the servants quiet.
I swore to myself I would remain strong, but I couldna help the tears from falling that one night.
Kirstin was breathless and she was not shameful to let her own tears fall from her eyes. Lachlan had endured what no child should. He watched his kin die right in front of him. Perhaps this was why he was so strong-willed and why others feared his intimidating demeanor.
Kirstin thought about him for a long time after reading the entry to his journal, not sparing a thought to the setting sun. She lay down against the tall grass, staring up at the orange and pink sky.
Little did she realize, that she had fallen asleep. Only the images of a dark-haired highlander with watchful eyes flooded her dreams.