ELEANOR

BEGINNING

Scotland was not how she imagined it would be. It was different, and it was more. It was cold, noisier, and distant to her. Lady Eleanor Horan did not feel that Scotland would be home to her, yet it was why she had come to Scotland. So she could feel at home again. So she could begin a new life, one filled with joy. She didn't know how possible that was, but she wanted to try anyway. The last few years had been hell to her. Nothing that she had dreamt of was coming to pass. She had imagined a good future, a grand debutante ball, a perfect suitor, and her parent's blessings. However, that dream was leg shattered when her mother passed away. 

"Out of the way, Lady!" A man in a long coat pushed past her and walked swiftly. As though hit by cold water, she realized, again, where she was. She was in Scotland. She gripped her trunk tightly and walked on. She wanted an Inn to rest her head for the night. Because the darkness was close by. The night was fast approaching, and she knew that the night was not safe for her as a Lady. She gripped her bonnet with her left hand and hastened her steps. She walked down a narrow alley, looking around. Where would she find an inn? 

"It's a Lady." She heard behind her. The voice echoed through the quiet alley. She swallowed hard as she looked around. It was best she walked faster, she thought. She turned to continue her walk but was met with two men, dressed in a black coat, black breeches, and a white inner. 

"Hand over yer trunk, Lady!" one of the men said. 

Eleanor held her trunk close to her bosom. She turned to run from the other way, but she was met with one more man. Her heart plummeted down her stomach. They were thieves. They wanted to steal from her. She shook her head a few times, and then, seeing as there was nothing she could do, she screamed. 

"Do not make this any harder than it need be, Lady, hand over yer trunk, and we shall be on our merry way!" One behind her boomed. 

She couldn't and wouldn't let go of her trunk. Everything she had was in there. Everything that she had come to Scotland with. If she handed it over, she would lose all. She decided it might be best if she pleaded with them. "Please, spare me the misery of walking the cold streets, homeless and without clothes to wear. My trunk has nothing of value within it."

"Tis nae business of ours —"

"Step away from the Lady!" A distant voice boomed. 

Eleanor's heartbeat increased. Another thief? She was about to take to her heels in the middle of the confusion, but two jumped in front of her. They gripped the trunk she held and began pulling it. They had almost torn it off her, but one of the men groaned and was carried away. The second one stopped, confused, and then he was taken away too. Eleanor held her breath. Another from behind her attacked her, tried to take away her trunk, but she swung her hands around, hitting him with it. He fell to the floor and groaned in pain. She looked at the two men who were taken away from her, a tall man, whom she couldn't see correctly, was fighting with the thieves. She watched in awe, as they rose and took to their heels. She was now left with the gentleman who had saved her. He rose fully and began to walk towards her. Her eyes widened at how tall he was. He was tall and broad-shouldered. In the darkness, she could see his dark hair, but not his face. And she wished to see his face. Anyone as tall as he was, with broad shoulders and a gait that commanded authority, would undoubtedly be a fine man. 

Bruce Gilbert walked towards the petite Lady slowly. She clutched on to her trunk as though it were life. Her eyes were wide open, and she gazed up at him with fear. He frowned and stopped himself from walking any further. He had just saved her. Did she think that he would do her harm? He wouldn't. She looked fragile. With her red hair, flying in the air, and strands covering her face, and with the moon's reflection on her, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He was frozen for a moment, uncertain of what to say. They both stood, neither speaking, only staring at each other. Bruce decided that he wanted to know who she was then. He tried to protect her. He wanted her to come to no harm. And he would do just that. 

"Are ye alright, Lady?" 

He watched her swallow hard, and then, nod once. He nearly smiled. She had responded. That was a start. 

"Have ye no place to rest yer head this fine night?" He eyed her trunk. 

She tightened her grip on it and shook her head. 

"Mayhap, ye would like to stay at an Inn, to be protected for the night?" 

She tilted her jaw upwards then. "I had planned to do so, kind sir." 

"Come then. I shall walk ye to an Inn. Mayhap, buy you a meal. Ye seem to have been hungry for very long." 

She said nothing to that. He jerked his head to the side, asking her to walk with him. She shook her head. "I shall find my way, thank you."

"The night is unsafe for a lady as beautiful as ye are." he saw her bend her head. He knew she was blushing. "those thieves may be lurking around, waiting for a perfect moment to attack ye again. I cannae let that happen. I shall protect ye until ye are safely in an Inn. I am nae thief, and I wouldnae do you hate, Lady."

She looked up at him, and then, reluctantly, she began to walk in front of him. He breathed out in relief. She was so beautiful, everything about her was. Even the way she walked. Her voice was soft, innocent, unharmed. It reminded him of the lake behind his manor at Richmond, his home. 

They arrived at the inn soon enough, and they had a quiet meal. He let her eat more than he did. She looked like she hadn't eaten in a long time. Once they were done with their meal, they would walk ver to the innkeeper and ask for rooms. Bruce would spend the night at the inn. He was far away from home. But Bruce didn't want them to walk away from that table without knowing anything about the Lady. He wanted to know why she was at the alley at night, why she had no place to stay, why she sounded English. 

"Lady, pray to tell what yer name mae be," he asked when he pushed his plate aside. 

She looked up. Her golden eyes met with his. He couldn't help but look away. The pull that the mere look had given him made him uncomfortable. It made him want 

"Eleanor, Kind Sir. What may yours be?"

"Bruce. Why are ye here? What happened to ye? Have you come a long way?" 

She smiled. "Your questions are endless."

It was the first time he saw her smile. And her smile was beautiful. "As I should be, Eleanor. My curiosity is piqued."

"My father planned to marry me off to an old Lord in England. I had fled before he had the chance to do so. I decided to come down to Scotland, for it is quite a distance from England. It has taken me seven days to get here, and now that I have arrived, I wish to begin a new here. I wish to work humbly so that I may care for myself." 

She was brave and courageous. And he was confident those were only a few things he would come to like about her. There was more to her. He was a Laird at Richmond. He owned a large manor and an estate. Surely, there was a way he could give her a job she wished to do humbly. He would take her with him to his manor and help her. He, however, did not want to reveal this to her yet.

Eleanor was not sure why the stranger was kind to her. The kind that he even bought her a meal. And was willing to see that she was safely in a room before he went his way. They approached the innkeeper together after they had their lunch and had talked for a bit. He had not responded to her story, but she saw in his bright blue eyes, that there was no judgment held. That he thought she had done the right thing by fleeing her home. 

"Pardon me, but there are only two rooms left. The man and his wife over there," he pointed behind him, to a man with his pregnant wife. "have taken one. It would mean that there is truly only one left." 

Eleanor's eyes widened. Bruce did not waver. He simply nodded at the innkeeper. "We shall take it."

He turned to her sharply. "No harm will come to you, Eleanor, trust me."

Trust. He wanted her to trust him. She swallows, because, in a way, she did trust him. She nodded once. He collected the keys, and they headed to the room. After he unlocked the door, he asked her to go in and dress for the night. He did not follow her in. He asked that she invited him when she was most comfortable. He was a gentleman. After she was done, she pulled open the door and invited him in. She felt self-conscious as she was in her night robe. His eyes sweeper over her, and she felt her insides twirl. She cleared her throat and wrapped her arms around herself. "It is not right that we... Share a bed, Sir." 

Bruce smiled. "I shall take the floor, nae need to worry." 

She looked at him. He looked at her, as well. And she felt within her, a sense of belonging, with him. Because he had saved her, because he had respected her privacy, and because he knew that she wished to keep her dignity, she felt her insides twirl. But she decided to ignore it. The only thing she let out from everything that she as feeling at that moment, was gratitude. 

"Thank you, Kind sir." 

Bruce said nothing in response to her greeting. He was laid on the floor while she was on the bed. It was quiet for a very long time. He did not feel the need to fall asleep yet. He wanted to be close to Eleanor. She had suffered a great deal, far more than being married off. But she did not want to speak of it. He was sure of this. He sighed. He looked up, and when he was about to try to sleep, he heard her soft sobs. For the room was silent, it echoed and reverberated. He rose as quickly as he could and walked over to her. 

"Eleanor?" he called. She did not lookup. He knew that she didn't want to. So he did what he knew that he could do. He pulled her to him and embraced her. He let her sob on his shoulders. He stroked her long red hair, all the while, assuring her that all will be well. "Tis going to be alright, Lady."

A steamy scene after the Heroine and Hero quarrel. 

Fiona was no fool. She was no fool, and yet, she felt as though she had been taken for one. After all her cries against being wed to the Scottish laird, her father had insisted. Now she was in Scotland, a wife to the man who had saved them from thieves, as a reward to him. She felt as though she were a price. As though she were compensation for what they did not have, what they could not give. And that was what she was. 

Her new home had maids at every corner, at her beck and call. But it was not like London. Scotland was not like London. The Scots liked to dance and drink. They made more noise than the English did, had no manners like the English. Even her husband. Although he was a fine man, tall and beautiful, and had the gorgeous eyes she had ever seen, she still did not wish to wed. At least not in the way that she had been to him. She wanted to find love, marry a man she loved, and courted her properly, as authentic English did. 

She was their bedchamber. She was lying alone, as her husband was not home. She had been married for fourteen days, and it had always been the same way. He often came back late at night and sneaked into the bedchamber, not even apologizing for his absence at dinner. He would take his side of the bed, and he would lay there quietly. He rarely spoke to her as she did him. But she wanted to. She did want to talk to him about it. Only they didn't know each other well enough. They rarely spoke. And it seemed that he did not even like her. He never looked at her. And it bothered her so. She felt like a fool again. Her papa should have given her time to know him. Perhaps they would have been in love before they were wed. 

Alan pushed the door open as gently as he could. His brows were raised as he did this, as though by being raised, it would safe him from the noise that the door would create. He didn't want Fiona to wake up and see him. Not like this, especially. Not as a miserable man. He had fallen in love with her, and he had been happy that she became his bride. But with time, he had begun to regret it. For it seemed that she might never love him as he did her. She saw him as merely the man who had saved her, nothing more. She did not adore him. She did not even try to pretend. And so, he had preferred to live his days without having to see her. So he would not know the pain in her eyes when she looked at him. The anger and disgust. He loved her too much to see that by her father's decision, and by his selfishness, she was now a troubled woman, living a miserable life with him. So he decided to make himself scarce. By doing so, he thought he would reduce her pain. Because seeing him made her angry, and he didn't like that.

He closed the door behind him. Then he breathed in relief. She was sound asleep like always. 

Fiona stared at him as he leaned against the door. His cotton shirt was left flying out of his breeches. His boots were muddy. She knew where he was. And she didn't like it. He had been drinking! She swallowed hard. Did he hate her so much that he would return home drunk? Return to their home drunk. Did he see her as such a burden? She wanted to try to see where their marriage led, but she gave her no chance. She blinked back her tears and rose from the bed. 

"Alan." 

He flinched, but he did not move. He was startled. 

"This is unacceptable. You will not come home drunk! We English do not live like this. We respect that we have a home. An English man would never have —"

"Enough, Fiona." he said calmly. "enough. I shan't have ye scolding me on what I shouldnae do. I am the laird of this castle, and I shall do as I please." 

"As you please?! How ludicrous that you don't consider my reaction to the actions you take, Alan." 

"Yer reaction?! Ye have had nae care for me since yer arrival. Ye have refused to look at me, refused to let me even hold ye on our wedding night. And now ye think that you can have an opinion on what is do?!" he turned t face her. And Fiona was taken aback when his green eyes met hers. They were so bright and shimmering. He looked hurt in pain. 

"Alan —"

"Ye have ignored me, Fiona. So do nae blame me for my actions."

She was confused. He had been the one ignoring her. "No, you have left every night and leave as well in the mornings, so I do not see you. You have ignored me."

"Only because I thought it best for ye. For I thought ye are disgusted by the sight of me!"

She flared. "Impossible that you put words in my mouth! "

Alan groaned. She was doing it again, accusing him. She was making him blame himself for everything. He shook his head and walked towards the bed as she kept talking. He wasted nothing to do with her tonight. He wanted to arguments, and he didn't want to have to look at her. She looked beautiful in her nightdress, and her blonde hair was left falling across her shoulders. She always looked stunning with her hair down. Not like how she usually pinned it all up during the day. He loved it when she let her hair down. And he wanted her to keep it that way. Always. 

She walked around and came to stand in front of him. Her eyes were wide. "Have you heard a word that I have uttered?" 

He sighed and closed his eyes. She was before him. She was beautiful. 

"Fiona —"

"I have had enough, Alan. I cannot live like this anymore." 

He opened his eyes. Was she leaving?! "What?" 

"You do not look at me, and you're so disgusted that you cannot even look at me!" She shook her head and made for walking around him. He gripped her upper arm. And he regretted it immediately. She stilled too. Her eyes were wide. He staggered back a bit, but he had not let go of her. He hit the back of his leg on the bed, and then, he was falling. He saw her blue eyes widen and then she reached out for him. "Are you alright—"

She landed with him. They both fell on the bed, and she was on top of him. Her bosom rose as she gazed at him. She looked beautiful, and he could not resist. He kissed her. He placed his lips on hers and let them devour her. She gasped, but her lips parted, and she kissed him back as well. He felt her nipples harden against his chest. He pulled her up so that her legs were around his waist, and he held her by her buttocks. She moaned against his lips. He rolled over so that he hovered over her. 

Before his lips descended on hers again, to kiss her face, down to her neck, and then her bosom, he told her. "I want ye, Fiona."

Fiona was too shocked to speak. She didn't know that he had wanted her, or that she had wanted him to such an extent that the cold air against her lips was so much discomfort for her. And that her bare lips could not compare to the warmth his lips brought when they were on hers. She wanted him as well. She bucked her hips, inviting him, pleading that he took her then. He moved towards her, and let his lips savor her again, only now, his lips weren't the only things running. His hands were too. They were all over her breasts, her waists. And even lingered over her center. He was teasing her. 

Alan pulled down the straps of her nightdress slowly, wanting to see the hunger in her eyes. She watched him as he let her dress fall to her hip, and then, her eyes glimmered when he moved in and kissed her chest. His lips, trailing until he met her bosom. She bucked and moaned. She wanted to touch him too, but he shook his head. 

"Let me please ye, my love."

She blushed and nodded shyly. He grinned, then he kissed her breasts, Sucking and nibbling, making sure she was satisfied. She pulled her hand through his hair each time he teased her, begging for him to be inside her. He smiled down at her as she whimpered with pleasure beneath him. Then he did away with his breeches and everything he wore. He penetrated her slowly so that she felt him at every step. Their eyes collided when he was deeply buried inside her. He moved against her, and his ears were filled with pleasurable cries from her. They made love until they were too tired to, so they laid in each other's arms, tangled up. Alan held her close. Because this was a new beginning for them, and he would make sure that she fell in love with him, as he was, with her. 

A confrontation 

Angus was terrified as he stepped into the castle with his men behind him; he felt a cold thrill. He had made sure to arrive when Ewan would have retired to his bedchambers. He knew that Ewan had taken Katherine. Only Ewan would do something so treacherous. Because he had not won Katherine's heart, Ewan had blamed Angus. And now, he thought that the best way to have her was by kidnapping her. Angus would not spare Ewan if he saw him. He called to his men. They sauntered into the castle. They had picked the locks and were now in. There was no certainty about where Katherine was held, but Angus was willing to search the whole castle even if it was the last thing he did. 

He signaled to his men, where everyone should be. Just as they were taking the stairs, their swords raised, there was a noise at the bottom. He turned to see Ewan standing by the entrance door, his smile so full. Behind him, Katherine was held by a man Angus had never seen before. A knife to her throat. 

"I knew that ye would try to attack me in my own home, Angus." Ewan laughed. 

"Release Katherine, if ye do nae want to be killed this moment."

"One move against yer precious lady and me will be dead." Ewan snapped. 

Angus still at that. His heartbeat increased. 

Katherine watched from where she was, a knife to her throat. Ewan had kidnapped her that afternoon and had kept her hostage since then. He had known that Angus would come to save her, so he had kept her away from his castle. Elsewhere, in the ranch. When Angus arrived, Ewan was well aware. Her Angus, she prayed for his safety. Ewan was up to no good. He intended to kill Angus and keep her for himself. Katherine saw Angus's men, all positioned on the vast staircase that led to the castle's east and west wing. 

"I challenged ye to a duel battle, Angus. None of yer men are allowed to interfere. They will be here, as they are, and we would duel outside. With only yer lady as a witness."

"I have nae come for childish foolishness, Ewan. Let Katherine be."

"T'will be as ye want it, a dual or her death. And the duel must be to death. If ye kill me, then he can have her. If ye can't, then I shall." 

Angus looked at Katherine. His eyes locked with her. She shook her head. She didn't want Angus to agree. Ewan planned to kill him. But Angus wanted her safety, and she understood his decision when he decided. Ewan asked that they took the battle outside; he tried to harm to come to his home. It was all agreed. 

Katherine wanted to speak to him, to tell him what was at stake. But Ewan's man held her tightly. He pressed the knife to her neck each time. 

Angus and Ewan began to battle when Edward blew the horn. Their swords clinked against each other, but Ewan was no match for him. Angus took his little falter to make him move backward, and eventually, Ewan lost his balance, and Angus was able to hit his sword away from his hands. The sword fell to the floor, and Ewan was defenseless. 

Angus held his sword to his throat and said. "Give up like an honorable man, Ewan. I have won. Release her at once."

Ewan smirked. "Tis what ye think, that ye have won. But ye haven't. I said we fight till death."

It was then that Angus felt the edge of a sword at the back of his neck. He turned immediately to fight whoever it was off, but he saw the man flee. When he turned back, Ewan had his sword again, and he attacked him. Angus hissed when the sword slashed beneath his eyes. He staggered back, groaning in pain. Ewan cut his torso, his cotton shirt, tearing, and the sword meeting his bare skin. Blood dripped from it. 

Katherine watched in utter fear as this happened. She had to do something. Ewan would kill Angus. He had already cheated, and now, he was winning. The knife was still against her throat. If only she could escape this man. 

Ewan slashed Angus's knee, and that was when Katherine decided that it was enough. She raised her right leg and stepped on the man who held her with all her strength. He gasped and lost his balance. She slipped away from him and raided her knees to his crotch. His eyes widened when her knees collided with it. He staggered back, letting go of the knife, and it clattered to the ground. Katherine picked it up immediately and ran towards Angus and Ewan. She had no care what Ewan was telling Angus, but she knew what she needed to do. 

Angus held his breath as Ewan raided the sword. 

"Goodbye, old friend." He brought it down towards him. And Angus closed his eyes, ready for his death. 

However, other than the pain he felt before, he didn't feel anything. He opened his eyes and looked down at his chest. There was no sword buried in it. Ewan still had the sword raised midair, and his stomach was bleeding. His mouth began to bleed, as well. He fell to the floor slowly, giving him to see Katherine, his brave woman, standing there with a stained blood knife. She had saved him. 

Behind her, Angus saw the man who had held her, coming for her. He picked up the sword that Ewan had dropped, rose to his feet even in pain, and leaped towards Katherine. He pierced the swords into the thigh of the man who was aiming for her. And then he let go and fell on Katherine. She gripped him and steadied him. So that he now stood with so much effort that she had to support him. 

His men came running out, just as Katherine said. "Come out from the shadows now."

Angus wondered whom she was referring to until he saw three men come out of the shadows. 

Angus's second in command, Edward stepped towards them. "Drop yer swords, your master has been killed. We shall spare ye! "

The men complied. While everyone chattered away, Angus turned to Katherine. It was over, finally. Ewan was dead, and he could no longer bother them. He gazed at his woman with love and affection. She was the best thing that ever happened to him. 

It was terrifying that he had to witness a threat to her life. 

"Let's go home, My Lady."

At the Sandcastle, Katherine buried her face in his shirt. "Oh, Angus."

She didn't like to show her fear outside, but with him, she did. He held her close, even though his whole body ached. 

"I thought he would kill me."

"And I would have killed him as well." He spat. 

Katherine cried in his arms for a moment. And then, she went out of the bed-chamber. He sat on the floor, groaning. He had lost a lot of blood. Katherine came back with a bowl and water. He shook his head. Of course, she would care for him. It was so late at night to call on the physician, but Katherine cared for him. 

She began to clean him up. She cleaned under his eyes, his torso, and then the small cut on his knee. Ewan had wanted to make him weak before he killed him off. And he had down little to no harm to Ewan. 

"I would never forgive myself if Ewan had killed you."

Angus touched her face as she cleaned his torso again. "Tis no fault of yer."

She ignored him. He didn't like that she blamed herself. He raised her head to look at him. And then he pulled her close and kissed her. "Tis not yer fault, mi love."

He saw that his kisses had made her weak. And the hunger in her eyes grew. Without thinking, he pulled her close to him, just enough that he kissed above her bosom. She gasped and stared down at him. His eyes twinkled with mischief. He was still very much in pain, but he wanted her. 

She rose and did away with her dress. When she came back towards him, she was completely naked. Her round and perky breasts graced his eyes. With care, she climbed above him, her legs spread apart. He hissed a little when she moved, for his torso hurt. She began to kiss him and touch him. He rocked against her as she felt him. His bulge grew. He wanted her so much. She let him touch her, as well from her breasts, down to her very center. But she did not want to stress him. Because he was injured. And so, she led the way in their lovemaking that night. 

Even led him into her, while looking right into his eyes. She rocked against him, moving so that they both found pleasure. When they climaxed, they did it together. And Angus had never felt so much love all at once. Zest from two souls. 

Katherine lay beside him that night, her arms around him, and yet, careful not to hurt him. She was his home. And whether she was, he found peace. There was nowhere else he could ever be.