Highland Captive by Hannah Howell

he would die. She did think, however, that he was close to
bursting a blood vessel in reaction to the bargain Parlan had offered her.
Leith seemed ready to start spouting all sorts of male nonsense about honor and
duty to name. It was going to be very difficult to tell him her decision.
    “If
I come to his bed, he willnae steal Elfking from me. ‘Tis his ransom for my
horse.”
    Leith
noticed the way she could not meet his eyes, busying herself with disrobing to
her shift and performing her ablutions. “Ye mean to meet his price.” She began
to brush her hair. “Answer me, Aimil.”
    “Aye,
I mean to meet his price.”
    “Ye
would sell yourself to him for the sake of a horse?”
    “I
would sell myself for Elfking. He isnae just a horse to me. Please, try to
understand.” She wondered if he would guess that it was not for Elfking alone
that she had decided to accept Parlan’s deal.
    He
sighed, regretting his harsh words. “I do understand. I ken weel what Elfking
means to ye but what of honor?”
    “Honor.”
She set down the brush and turned to look at her brother. “Honor says I should
cling to my chastity, save it for my husband who will be Rory Fergueson, a man
I dinnae even like. Elfking is but a horse yet he is worth ten of Rory. Where
is the honor in losing the best while clinging to something for the worst?”
    “If
t’was for my sake, t’would be understood but not to save a horse.”
    “Those
who ken me weel ken that there is a difference between ye in my heart. To save
ye, I would give up Elfking. To save something Rory Fergueson will tear from me
in but a blinking and with nary a thought to me, I willnae do. I cannae. I
dinnae want to.”
    He
closed his eyes for he knew there was no argument to sway her. Having made it
clear he did not want murder on his hands, Parlan MacGuin had searched and
found the only other weakness Aimil really had. When Leith opened his eyes,
Aimil had donned her shirt and stood by his bed, looking at him anxiously,
tears streaking her pale face.
    “Will
ye turn from me, Leith?”
    Lifting
the bedcovers slightly, he patted the space beside him. She hastily filled it,
huddling next to him and resting her cheek upon his chest. When his arm, heavy
with weakness, curled around her shoulders, she closed her eyes with relief.
Although she had no intention of turning from her decision, she had feared what
it would cost her in her relationship with her brother.
    “Brat,
I think ye could whore yourself bowlegged and I would still love ye.” He smiled
weakly when she gave a watery giggle. “God, if only I wasnae so weak,” he
cursed. “I have been a poor protector for ye.”
    “Nay.
Odds have been against us from the start. Ye cannae fight a whole clan. Even if
you were in full health, ye wouldnae be able to help me, Leith. If ye tried to
put a stop to things, they would simply lock ye out of the way.”
    “Aye,
I fear what ye say is true. Are ye afraid, sweeting? He is a man about whom
many a dark tale is told.”
    “‘Tis
odd but nay.” She told him of the incident concerning Alex. “Ye see? The
fearsome Black Parlan doesnae hold with the abuse of women. I cannae say the
same for Rory Fergueson.” She noticed that Leith could not either but was not
really surprised. “What is the worst that can happen to me?”
    “Why,
ye will be dishonored and,” Leith paused, blinked and continued slowly, “possibly
unweddable.”
    “That
isnae a verra great loss to my mind.” She decided to be honest. “I hope for
that, pray for it. Aye, I act partly with that firmly in mind. Ye never can
tell. I may even enjoy myself. ‘Tis said he is a great lover.”
    “‘Tis
hard to ken if they mean his skill or the size of his staff,” Leith muttered. “I
heard some ladies, if ye can term them such, their morals being loose, speaking
about the Black Parlan last time I was at court.” He frowned as he recalled
that conversation.
    “What
did they say about him?” she pressed when he