Chapter 8

Gillian's thoughts were jumbled as she looked around, her eyes settling on one man who was busy talking to his warriors. Why was he behaving in that manner? Or was it her? Should she stand and talk to him but wouldn't that entail in disturbing him?

Goodness, she closed her eyes, willing her body to relax; she was behaving like an irate harpy. This way her swirling thoughts would make her mind all fuzzy. She was an independent woman, that's right, she did not care if he did not like her kisses. It was great, life was great, lord knew, she did not need him in her life so what if she were his bride. Not bride yet just a bride to be.

Gillian rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, opened her eyes and found Patrick smiling down at her.

"Yes, Patrick," Gillian smiled up at him and noted his eyes drifting over to Mary who was still snoozing happily.

Patrick whose gaze was still fixated on Mary replied rather apologetically," Mi lady, I know you haven't got much time to rest but laird says we must continue." Gillian looked at him and frowned and unbekon to her found her eyes drifting to the said laird, who to all and sundry seeemed to be busy arranging the horses, paying not even a bit of attention to her. Her eyes fixed themselves on his shoulders which were wide and made him look strong and a very fine male specimen, for that matter. She did not know till then that she of all the people was a keen admirer of shoulders, male shoulders to the boot.

Gillian's frowned deepened and she quickly came to a firm belief, if he did not want to acknowledge her existence, it was all very good, she herself wasn't very keen on acknowledging him or his shoulders for that matter, maybe his shoulders a bit, no, not even his magnificdent shoulders. For all she cared, the man could go and very well rot in hell and take his shoulders along with him too.

Just then Iain turned and caught her gaze. His eyes glaring at her as if she had committed a sin and Gillian found herself drawn. She really wanted to defy him, lord knew, she did but the man seemed to hold some magical power over her that could capture her and wipe out her strong, in reality any pitiful weak resolve for that matter.

She threw him a disparaging glance conveying to him her unhappiness over how things stood and lightly wondered if he would be able to understand all that through one glance. But well, that wasn't her problem, no, it was his. If he couldn't understand her look, fine, good enough for her, she did not even want a man who failed to understand her.

Gillian blinked, darn it, she wasn't even making any sense now. Curse that man, for making her so addle brained. May good lord take him away, away and far, far aw..

"Mi lady," Patrick's voice woke her up from her own confusing thought process.

She smiled ready to fling herself in Patrick's arms, she was thankful to him for saving her from her own perplexing thoughts," Yes, Patrick?" She asked as she folded her plaid and gave it to him. When he continued to just stand there, she raised her face to meet his eyes.

"Mi lady, pardon, but could you wake her up," Patrick said eyes focussed on Mary.

"Oh, oh! Of course, right away," Gillian began rousing Mary, who jolted up and with a neat squeak seeing her lady awake exclaimed," Mi lady, I am so sorry, I did not know you were up if I would have so known I would have been up, please my lady, let me do it,"she took the plaid from Gillian's hands as Gillian just smiled at her and moved towards the spring to freshen up. Mary started folding up the plaid, rugs and when she saw Patrick lingering behind her, she stared at him until he tried to take the plaids away," Let me."

"No, I will do it and let me tell you, sir. I do not desire your help." Mary let out a big huff.

Patrick just smiled and touched her head and tried to smoothen her hair which seemed to be all over the place. "How dare you, sir?" Horrified Mary let out a loud shriek and ran towards the trees, all the while leaving a happy Patrick with the rugs and the plaids.

Gillian and Mary were ready to leave after having food and in Gillian's case, profoundly ignoring Iain, and it wasn't as if he had tried to talk to her. Oh, blast it, it made zilch sense if she were to anticipate his thought process and then try to ignore her and apparently his thinking. This was turning out to be an exhausting deal.

And now, when she eyed him carefully, he powerfully striding towards her, she realized there was one more immediate predicament, yes more urgent than her and his thoughts and that was she was not going to share a horse with Iain as he did not even have the basic courtesy to explain to her why he was ignoring her or unaffected over the veritiable fact that she was ignoring him.

Iain looked at Gillian and found himself wanting to lose into her fanthomless eyes, when she had made an eye contact with her earlier, he had wanted to just burrow himself deep within her making her his and giving all of himself to her, what was the matter with him? He was tired of reminding himself that he was a warrior and not some daft man who would moon over his betrothed slash bride to be. Hell, it had been a trial in itself to not just lay with her on her rug and take her in his arms, trail his fingers lightly over all that glorious skin, lick those delightful...

"Laird, we ought to move," Duncan spoke lightly dragging Iain out of his musing which helped him only to have an undesirable affect on one portion of his body which in his esteemed opinion was definitely not a treat.

Iain noddded and went to fetch his bride to be. At least he would be able to hold on to her while riding towards his home. He shook his head in mild disgust. He ought to congratulate himself on reaching a new low in his life, being satisfied with holding her, hell; he had never known to enjoy holding a woman. Give him a woman and he would gladly tumble with her anywhere but holding and looking forward to...holding; this was truly a foreign concept for him. He grimanced at the bitter taste that was left in his mouth.

And then he saw, the light from the early dawn lightly falling on all that splendid hair of hers and bathing her, reverbrating through her, showcasing her as a goddess. Iain found himself hurrying towards her, as he realized he would be pretty happy to hold her in his arms for as long as he lived.

Before he could dismiss the notion which was definitely another quandary which undermined his masculanity, Gillian trudged forward toward him, followed by a disgruntled Patrick.

She reached him and when she was nearly two feet away she stopped and said tightly," Laird, could you please tell this warrior of yours that I would very well like to travel with him and not with you," she pointed at him and then at Patrick who shrugged helplessly.

What was it with these women and turning his men into nutty, mushy bundles? Hewould have to put a stop to this as soon as they reached home or better yet now and here. But looking at his bride to be's tight serene smile that she bestowed upon him, maybe right now was not such a good option. A sound warrior knew when to reterat, solidify his tactics and then attack for victory and everyone knew Iain always won, no matter the odds. He turned it into his favour by hook or crook.

And then what Gillian really said, registered in his mind, if she harbored thoughts that he would willingly ever allow her to sit with someone else, she was bsolutely wrong. Aye and it was time he made it very clear to her.

"Laird?" Iain raised his eyebrow.

Gillian said nothing as she folded her hands on top on another.

"Did I actually hear it right? You would like to travel with Patrick?" Iain further questioned.

Gillian solemnly nodded her head giving him no explanation whatsoever. And she fully expected him to deny his consent. And it was an undeniable fact that she loved to be in his arms, enveloped in his warmth. She felt as if she belonged there, on his lap, belonged with him. And she was also aware of the very fact that he would never in million years allow her to sit with someone else. But righteousness especially in the light of the ensuing circumstances demanded that she offered some kind of reaction which would clearly state her offending sensibility.

But to her complete astononishment, he annoyed her by laughing.

"This is no laughing matter, Laird," she remarked dryly. He shrugged his shoulders. There seems to be absolute silence after that statement of hers, she felt oblighed to press on," so may I."

"Laird again, is it?" He smiled at her playfully and though she did concede his face took on an utterly fascinating appeal which made her hands itch to simply touch him, right there where a small frown formed, he was still the most bothersome husband to be till date, not that she had been langured with many if you did not count Robert Sutton, that is.

"Aye, you may" he said a while later, giving her a dismissing wave. And Gillian went quiet and she couldn't comprehend, did he say yes she could sit with someone else who wasn't Iain. She looked up at him in bewilderment as he met his gaze with complete innocence. Iain wanted to laugh, his cross 'bride to be' looked almost lost, as if he had asked her to club a little puppy. Oh this was enjoyable; he knew she wanted to sit with him then why not say it outright. And her adressing him as Laird was all the more enetertaining. He knew she was angry at him for some reason and he very well knew, it would be only a matter of time when she would let him know of his faults. His eyes twinkled at all the captivating drama she was creating and he absolutely loved the play of emotions on her face. He had yet to encounter a woman who was so expressive yet so untainted. It was a surprise to know a woman so well whom he had just met.

She huffed, gathering up her skirts, turned walking quicly towards Patrick, disregarding Iain's incessant chuckling as he walked towards his own horse. This was no time to look back and try to understand his offending agreement. After all, she had got exactly what she had wanted. Yes, that was right and if that was what the man wanted, then he would get that and more, she was no ones bride to be. She would not be someone's bride who did not even want to sit with her. And she would make it clear to him as soon as they reached his home. Gillian could feel her heart crying out in misery but she was a fighter and it would be cold day in hell when she would let Iain get better of her.

Patrick stood beside her, tending to his horse and making sure Mary was comfortably perched with Duncan who looked sad, an emotion mirrored on Patrick's face too. Gillian had a nigging suspicion that Patrick harbored some feelings for Mary which she could feel could be mutual and she noted in her mind to ask him exactly that as soon as he got free. If he wanted Mary, then Mary would sit with him and she could very well sit with Duncan or any other warrior for that matter.

Before she could turn and question Patrick, she heard thundering horse hooves and within seconds a large, familiar hand had swooped around her waist, picking her up easily and depositing her on to Iain's lap.

...................................

Hi, my beautiful people

I apologize for the delay. I promise to be very regular with my updates now. *Touches ears and smiles charmingly*. Come on, please..forgive me? *Bribes you with a flying kiss from Iain*.. Hahaha..I knew you loved me. ..much more than you love Iain. Take that Iain. *twinkles at you*

Do let me know how much you 'loved' the chpater. Remember, hating it, is not an option.

Warm Regards,

Hindia150