The Highlander's Secret(33)

Conrad snapped his fingers and walked out the door with the others following right behind him.

It wasn’t until they left the premises that Alan heard a loud exhale and saw her lower the sword. Alan wrapped his arms around her and said, “It’s alright, love. They’re gone.”

When he looked down at her, Jain’s eyes were wide and confused as if seeking an explanation. “Why did ye say that?” she demanded.

Alan grinned, running his fingers through Jain’s hair with a sheepish smile. “I couldn’t listen to him treating ye that way.”

“But… he’s dangerous,” Jain argued feebly. “Ye even said so the other day. Why would ye tell him we’re getting married?”

Alan sighed. “In part to make him leave, but the words came out of me before I could stop them. I promise ye, Jain, the sentiment was sincere. If ye would have me, I would marry ye in a heartbeat.”

“Alan…”

“All that matters is that Conrad will leave ye in peace, at least for a time. Ye dinnae have to answer now,” he told her. “I’ll protect ye whether or not ye agree to be my bride, but know this: I will love ye until my heart stops beating.”

He kissed her on the hand and turned away with a thousand things running through his head. Alan placed his hands upon the workbench and took a calming breath when he heard Jain speak behind him. “I have to go,” she told him.

Alan walked past her out onto the dirt path to beckon Rodrick from across the field. He was tending to some foals in the grass, but jogged over when he saw Alan signal him. “Aye, ye should tell yer da what happened,” he told her.

“Alan, what can I do?” Rodrick asked.

Alan put his hand on Rodrick’s shoulder and looked him in the eyes. “I need ye to make sure Jain makes it home alright. Conrad and his lads have been giving her folly. I dinnae trust him not to follow her.”

Rodrick nodded solemnly and turned his attention to Jain. “Shall I walk ye back to the farm, Jain?”

She nodded stiffly before giving Alan a timid smile. “Will ye come by the house later?”

The edge of Alan’s mouth turned up into a smile. “I’m afraid I cannae today, lass. I have to go shoe a horse. Perhaps tomorrow would be better.”

She nodded in response, watching him pick up the hammer once again. The pit of her stomach began to ache as she opened the door, hating to leave Alan.





Chapter Fifteen


Alan swore under his breath, fussing over the liquefied silver inside an iron cup. His fourth attempt that day and he’d burnt the temperamental ore again. It was a delicate and time-consuming process that required his full attention, brushing away the impurities as they separated and floated to the surface. No matter how many times he tried, Alan couldn’t seem to get it right – the heat would be too low, or too hot, and the entire project had to be scrapped.

Alan glanced across the room and once again locked eyes with Bruce who watched his progress while picking at the remains of the meat pie. The smell of its spices and rich aroma drifted across the shop to where Alan was working. Alan set down the iron cup and stepped away, throwing his hands up in frustration. He placed his hand on his hip and gestured to the cup. “I’m sorry, Bruce. I burnt another one.”

His master took another bite and said, “It’s because ye’re too impatient. Ye have to give it time. The delicate process cannae be rushed. Clean it up and we’ll try another one tomorrow.”

Alan sighed, collecting his tools and returning them to the workspace where they belonged.

“Working with silver is not an easy job,” Bruce reminded him. “It requires a steady hand. Not everyone can become a master of this trade.”

“I can do it,” Alan told him. “I ken I can.”

Bruce frowned, his silver hair falling down across his forehead. He took another bite, saying, “Need I remind ye that silver isn’t cheap? I cannae afford to let ye ruin another batch. Ye’ll focus and get it right next time, or yer training there will end. Do we have an agreement?”

He nodded. “Aye.”

“Ye're distracted today,” Bruce observed. “Do ye need to clear yer mind?”

“Why did I even get involved?” he grumbled, slamming his tools about as he hung them on the wall.

In his heart, Alan knew the truth. It was because he loved her. He loved her, and he couldn’t bear to see her married off to the scoundrel.

Bruce eyed him warily, eating the meat pie Jain had brought them while Alan cleaned up the shop, banging the equipment harder than he normally would have allowed.

“What’s on yer mind, lad?”

Alan sighed, looking away from him. “Nothing. I’m just in a mood that’s all.”

Bruce set aside the rest of the pie before walking over to where Alan stood. “If that be the case, then I won’t press ye to talk. But dinnae go taking yer foul mood out on my wares, lad, or I’ll be taking it out of yer pay.”

Alan took a calming breath and unclenched his fingers from holding them in a fist.

Just then, Rodrick walked in from outside with a somber expression. Alan looked over at him expectantly and was relieved to see him give a subtle nod.

“Will someone tell me what in God’s name is happening?”