Chapter Seven

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         It was not long after Kirstin's curious gaze had strayed to the trees, before she could hear Alana's voice call after her. Only then did Kirstin know that she was in trouble for venturing off. She had neglected her duties as a servant, but swore that she would make it up to Alana.

            Kirstin did not want anyone else discovering the journal, and therefor she hid it between crutches of the roots to a great tree. She made sure that it was covered enough to protect the pages from the many rains, and any searching gaze that may come upon the finding.

            Upon entering the kitchen, Alana was in her notorious stance with a scrutinizing gaze and a hand on each of her hips.

            "Where have ye been, child?" she snapped at the young blonde.

            "I was tending to the horses within the stables." Kirstin lied.

            "Aye, well ye be best to stick to yer duties within the manor; and no' playing with the horses."

            "I do apologize." Kirstin said, her eyes falling to the floor in regret.

            Alana raised an eyebrow at the girl, "Sorry ye will be for yer the one that will take the Laird his lunch." After those words were said, Alana fought to hold in a laugh. Kirstin glared at her, all too knowing what she was trying to do.

           "'Tis no' funny, Alana. I ken what yer up to." Kirstin retorted, ignoring the woman's low chuckle.

           "'Tis no' like I can help it. The laird has demanded ye to see to him anyway." Alana said, making Kirstin's eyes go wide.

           "Why is that?" she asked, still shocked.

           Then Alana handed her a tray with a silver platter, "Ye tell me." She chuckled once more, before sending Kirstin on her way.

           Kirstin dreaded the way to Lachlan's study. She could not help but remember the events from the night before, and it made her nerves jump. Not only had Lachlan raged and nearly choked a man, but also apart of her knew that he was the one to leave the journal next to her pillow. This made her wonder if he had an intentional purpose for her to read his words, which both excited and frightened her all the more. What was so important about his journal that he would allow her to read it?

           Whether she liked it or not, it was only minutes before she arrived at the two grand doors at the end of the hallway. With three knocks to the door, a gruff voice gave her permission to enter. She opened the door with hesitance, making her presence all the more known.

           Standing at the doorway, Kirstin observed Lachlan writing away at his desk. He had not spared her glance, and she was uncertain what to do next. So instead, Kirstin observed his deep concentration at what he was writing, and how his arm flexed upon each stroke of the pen. His black hair was disheveled, and he looked stressed.

           Only a second passed before he set the pen down and his dark eyes looked up to her. Kirstin immediately began to stutter, "A-Alana said that ye w-wanted to speak t-to me?"

           "Aye." His voice was low when he spoke. Then, Lachlan motioned to an empty chair that was across from him. Comprehending, Kirstin slowly walked to it. She set the tray down upon his desk, careful not to drop it, and then took a seat awkwardly in the chair.

           "How is yer stay within my home?" he asked, his gaze not once straying from her's.

           Kirstin, feeling more relaxed now, grinned lightly, "'Tis fine."

           Lachlan did not seem satisfied by her answer, and asked almost worriedly, "Are the other servants treating ye well?"

           "Aye." She said, "They donna spare much attention to me which is fine. Alana has shown me much kindness, though."

           He gave a curt nod, but seemed to still not be gratified by her words, "Are ye happy?" he finally asked, a bit breathlessly.

           This made a frown etch on her lips, "As happy as any servant can be." She was blunt, but honest in her reply. Living under Lachlan's rules within his home, and being taken away from her own kin, was a hard transition. Nevertheless, she tried to make the best of it. But, happy? Kirstin was not entirely so. She was more content than anything else.

           A foreign look crossed Lachlan's face, one that Kirstin did not recognize. Sympathy? Regret? Or perhaps it was just the strain from all of his paperwork and duties as a laird?

           "I hope yer no' still startled from the night before?" he asked once more, referring to his rage and the scared look that had come across her face upon involving herself in the matter.

           "Nay," the lie escaped her lips before she could think better of it. She instantly regretted it, knowing that her timid behavior of him and short replies were enough proof that she was still shaken.

           Lachlan abruptly stood from his chair and walked around the desk. Kirstin watched with wide eyes as he knelt down in front of her and reached a calloused hand to push a strand of hair back that had fallen from her ribbon. He did not stop there; letting his hand stroke the side of her face and barely brushing her lips before he drew it back to his side.

           "Yer eyes say otherwise." He whispered lowly, "Donna lie to me, Kirstin." Then he paused, and seemed to refrain from reaching out to her again, "Ever." The last word was harsh and made a shiver go down her spine.

           Kirstin gulped, nodding once to show that she understood him. Approval shown on his expression, which made her relax instantly. Lachlan took her reaction of relief as a chance to caress the side of her face once more, before standing up.

           "'Tis all." He said in a changed tone, "Yer free to leave now."

           Lachlan walked back to his chair and took a seat, ignoring the dazed and confused look on Kirstin's face. In seconds, he had begun to write again. Though, she observed how tense he had become and the crease in his brow, which only supported her conclusion that he was stressed.

           She stood from her chair and gave him one last look before walking to the door. As she was about to shut it, Lachlan spoke abruptly, "And Kirstin?"

           She quickly turned around to find him looking at her with a stern look, "Yes, my Lai-. I mean, Lachlan?"

           He looked at her for what felt like minutes, even though she knew it had not been nearly that long.

           "Donna venture far more past the field from which ye read." His tone was strict.

           Kirstin, even more appalled that he had been watching her, could not say anything. Her body began to shake, and she nodded again before leaving his study. As she shut the door, Kirstin pressed her back against the adjacent wall and exhaled a shaky breath that she had not known she was holding.

           Her suspicions had been confirmed. The black horse, and heavy gaze on her shoulders as she read, belonged to no other than Lachlan. Not only that, but it feared her how affectionate he had been towards her only moments ago. His touch was like wild fire, making her feel like prey caught in the grasp of its predator. What frightened her the most, was that everything was beginning to click.

           Kirstin was beginning to realize the feelings that the most fearsome highlander of the lands was feeling for her. The one word that could explain why Lachlan was showing affection towards her and why he had made her a servant of his manor, could only be explained as love.

           And Kirstin couldn't have been more afraid.

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