Page 57 of Auctioned to the Cruel Highlander
He did not. Because he couldn’t.
The vendor looked up and straightened at once, uncertain whether to speak first. Ciaran spared him the struggle.
“How much?”
The man looked down at the star map and then back up at him. “Fifteen shillings, me Laird. But for ye, I can?—”
“Nay.” Ciaran raised his hand. “Ye daenae have to do anything for me. ’Tis a fair price.”
The vendor opened his mouth to speak, perhaps to argue his point further. But then he gave a brief nod.
Ciaran paid, and soon, the map was rolled and handed to him. The whole thing was over in moments, quickly enough that thought could not properly intervene. Only once it was in his hand did the full weight of what he had done dawn on him.
He had bought agift. He had seen something in the market, thought of Ava at once, and acted on that thought with the plain certainty of a man already too far gone to claim that it was unintentional.
He almost turned back then. Almost put the thing down on the nearest stall and left it there out of sheer disgust with himself.
Instead, he kept walking.
The rolled map felt too big in his hand, despite its size. It might as well have announced its presence to every person he passed.
Och! Look here!
Here is proof.
Here is weakness.
Here is the shape of a man who once prided himself on cold order and now buys star maps because his wife spoke one morning about a comet and her dead mother.
The villagers still moved aside for him and watched him with lowered eyes. By the time he turned back toward the castle, he couldn’t stop himself from imagining the look on Ava’s face when she eventually saw the map. Even as he reached the castle, all he kept thinking of was her face.
He should have known she would be waiting somewhere near the heart of the castle.
Ava had developed a talent for appearing at the exact moment his thoughts were least fit to meet her. She stood in thecorridor just beyond the hall, her back straight, her expression calm enough that anyone passing by might have mistaken the encounter for chance.
Ciaran knew better. She had beenlookingfor him.
Her eyes dropped briefly to his hand. He shifted the rolled map behind his back before the motion could become a question.
“Me Lady,” he greeted.
She raised an eyebrow. “Ye have been avoiding me.”
Ciaran kept his expression smooth. “I have had matters to attend to.”
“So have I.” Ava took one step nearer. “That doesnae change the fact.”
“What matters could ye possibly have to attend to?”
She shifted on her feet, a pink hue briefly tingeing her cheeks. “The lady of a castle has work to do, too. I recall ye saying that, me Laird.”
Ciaran let the silence that followed stretch out. But that silence, once useful to him, only seemed to sharpen her.
“I daenae appreciate it,” she continued. “I daenae like thinking I am doing something to keep ye away from me.”
“I am nae keeping away from ye.”
“Really?”
