Chapter 16
Daphne’s voice drifted out of the open library door and down the hall. Hunter felt his skin prickle at the sound.
He’d played their encounter by the loch over and over in his mind. It had kept him awake far into the night. He could taste the silky smoothness of her lips, feel the warmth of her skin beneath his fingers.
In that moment, it hadn’t mattered that they were sitting on a cold, hard boulder by a loch, out in the open. It hadn’t mattered that they were out in the open, because nobody was there, just the moon to see.
He could still feel the shivering lust that had coiled in his stomach. He wasn’t sure what could have happened next on that cold, shaley shore.
It doesnae matter, because she refused me.
How had she heard about the vow?
He racked his brains, trying to guess who it might have been.
One of the servants, maybe. His mother wouldn’t have said anything.
Magnus, perhaps? No, because as far as he knew, Magnus hadn’t talked to Daphne at all.
He probably didn’t think she was worth talking to. He could be a little haughty like that.
I suppose he’s earned the haughtiness. I daenae ken where I’d be without him.
He reached the library door and paused, peering inside.
Some lairds didn’t keep a good library. He could understand the logic behind that.
Even he had little time for reading. It would be nice to spend all day curled up in a soft padded chair, reading a book or poring over an old map or manuscript.
But he just didn’t have the time. Even if he did carve out the time, he’d just spend it worrying about the work he had to do.
Through the half-open door, he could see Daphne sitting on a wide settle, a blanket draped over her lap and another hanging over the back.
Her feet were tucked underneath her, and Willow was curled up in her lap.
A large, dusty tome that he didn’t recognize was open on Willow’s lap.
He closed his eyes and listened to the story Daphne was reading.
“… but the princess saw through the servant’s ruse.
She guessed that he was lying and refused to follow him into the woods.
The servant was very angry that he had failed to trick her.
She turned and began to run back toward the castle.
She kent that she couldnae outrun the servant, and began to think of how she might escape. ”
The voice abruptly stopped.
Hunter opened his eyes and found Daphne staring at him. There was no point in hiding any longer, so he stepped forward, pushing open the door.
Daphne’s face, steady and keen, didn’t change. He guessed that she’d steeled herself to meet him.
Willow yelped in delight and scrambled off her mother’s lap. The little fox, dislodged from somewhere, neatly jumped down onto the floor and came scuttling toward him.
He wasn’t sure what he’d expected. Maybe that the fox would speed past him? Instead, River jumped up on his hind legs, like a little dog, and sniffed his hands.
Willow came next, winding her arms around his middle.
“Laird MacCrimmon, I’m so happy to see ye!” she gushed, tipping back her head and beaming. “I asked Mama if ye would come here, but she said she didnae think that ye would. But ye are here now, ye are here! Is it nae wonderful, Mama?”
Both of them glanced over at Daphne, who was now sitting upright on the settee, her feet on the floor, the blanket folded neatly beside her.
“Come in, come in!” Willow urged, tugging him inside.
Hunter let himself be dragged along, unable to hold back a smile. River scampered after them.
Willow pushed him down onto a wooden chair opposite the settee and tilted her head up at him. River leapt up on his knee.
“Are we going to playfight again?” she asked. “I was practicing with me sword all of last night.”
He glanced up at Daphne, quirking his eyebrows, and she gave a faint smile.
“It’s true. She was swinging the sword around for hours until I made her stop.”
“I had to practice!” Willow argued.
“We can practice again later,” Hunter promised. “For now, daenae ye want to hear the rest of yer ma’s story?”
“Well, Mama always changes the endings.” Willow pursed her lips. “If they’re sad endings, she makes them happy.”
Daphne blinked. “How on earth do ye ken that?”
“Children are clever,” Hunter sighed.
River turned around in a circle on his knee and settled down with a dog-like sigh. Unable to help himself, Hunter stroked the fox’s head, and he closed his eyes in bliss.
“I mostly like ye, me Laird,” Willow remarked thoughtfully. “But I hate it when ye are River’s favorite.”
“Ahh, but I’m nae his favorite,” Hunter responded. “Ye see, River kens that ye will never ever leave him. So, he comes to me because he wants to make friends, but he kens that he can always count on ye. He’s trying to decide if he can trust me.”
Willow smiled, seeming to like that explanation.
At that moment, River seemed to have grown tired of sitting on Hunter’s knee and leaped down, scrabbling on the rug by the fireplace. Willow gave a squeal of delight and rushed over to play with him.
Hunter watched them for a moment or two, a small smile playing on his lips.
Me daughter. This is me daughter, me child.
I’m a father. Never bloody thought I’d be a father. Never thought it would be so terrifying, either.
His eyes traveled back to Daphne and caught her looking at him, her gaze unreadable.
“We never finished our conversation last night,” he murmured.
Her expression hardened. “Oh, I think we did. And keep yer voice down.” She jerked her head in Willow’s direction.
He was just gathering his thoughts to respond when the door creaked open, revealing Lady Pilbury leaning heavily on a stick. Daphne leaped to her feet, hurrying toward her.
“Lady Pilbury, ye shouldnae have walked so far!”
“Oh, I’m fine, dear!” Lady Pilbury responded, smiling.
“I feel well today, and Helena thought that a little walk would do me good. I am here to say that there’s some new sweet in the kitchen.
I am not sure what it is, but it’s something Scottish, and Helena is quite sure that you’ll enjoy it, Willow. ”
Willow perked up. “Can I go, Mama? Can I try the sweet?”
“Of course, pet.”
Willow set off at a sprint, with the fox racing after her.
Lady Pilbury chuckled with delight and limped after them, pulling the door closed behind her. There was a click, and it stayed shut.
Daphne’s eyes widened, and she glanced toward the door.
“Stay,” Hunter ordered. “I want us to talk about last night.”
“Well, I daenae want to talk about it,” she responded briskly. “Do ye intend to keep me here?”
“Nay, of course nae.”
“Good.” She stepped past him, head high, shoulders back.
She’s angry with me, he thought wryly. But she wasnae angry before. Nae when we—
Enough of that. She liked him enough, he knew that. But there was something else, a barrier between them.
Had the past five years built that barrier? Maybe. A pregnant, unmarried woman faced a lot of anxiety and hardships.
Maybe that was why she was so distant. Or maybe it was really what she said, her fear about the vow.
I’m glad she doesnae ken the whole story. She’ll find out eventually, I’m sure, but nae… nae yet.
Daphne passed by, leaving a trail of rosewater and lavender perfume in her wake. He fought not to lean forward and breathe it in.
Today, she was wearing a plain dark yellow dress with little red flowers embroidered on the hem. It was an English dress, not something that would stand up against the dirt and damp of the Highlands, but it would do well enough in the keep.
She reached the door, seized the doorknob, and turned it.
Nothing happened. The door rattled but did not open. She frowned, jiggling the knob.
“It willnae open,” she said, somewhat unnecessarily.
Hunter sighed. “Aye, there’s a wee problem with the lock on this door. Were ye told by any chance nae to close it entirely?”
She gulped. “Nay. I only told Lady Pilbury where I was going…”
“Aye, and she’ll nae ken. Which is why she closed it. Oh, dear.”
She jiggled the knob again, more vigorously. “Well, daenae just stand there! Do something!”
“We could have a go at jumping out of the window.”
“Be serious. I want to get out.”
He threw himself onto the settee she had just vacated and slung a leg over the armrest. “Somebody will come for us,” he said bluntly. “We’ll nae starve to death in here. In the meantime, I’d like to talk.”
“I’m sure ye would,” Daphne muttered darkly. “How could this have happened?”
“Of course,” Hunter mused aloud, “it’s possible that me nosy mother mentioned the tricky door to Lady Pilbury, and they might have contrived to have us stuck in here. What do ye think of that?”
She threw him a filthy look. “Lady Pilbury wouldnae pull a trick like that.”
“Maybe ye daenae ken her as well as ye think ye do. After all, she was young once, was she nae?”
“Aye, but I’m sure she was very proper and prim. She is a lady, an English lady!”
“I could tell ye some stories about English ladies. Nae mine, of course, but still.”
She rounded on him, folding her arms tightly. “Ye are giving me a headache, Hunter.”
“That makes two of us. I already have one from me mother and yer employer gabbling about the cèilidh at breakfast.”
Daphne rolled back her shoulders. “Well, I’m looking forward to the cèilidh. So is Willow.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Are we really going to stay in here and make small talk until we’re released?”
“Well, what do ye want to talk about?”
There was a moment of silence.
Abruptly, Hunter got to his feet and prowled toward her. Daphne met his eyes, never looking away, and didn’t give an inch of ground.
She’s a fighter, he thought, biting back a smile. Our daughter really will be a warrior.
“I want to talk about us,” he said. “Ye agreed to come here.”
“Aye, to let ye see yer daughter. I’ll nae go over what we discussed last night. I cannae wed ye, Hunter.”
“Bold of ye to assume I was going to ask ye again.”
She turned crimson but lifted her chin defiantly, folding her arms across her chest. “I want to leave.”
“Aye, but we’re locked in.”
“Why on earth would Lady Pilbury or yer mother do something like this?”
He shrugged. “Me guess is that they want us to marry. It’s the obvious solution. We have a child together.”
Her jaw tightened. “So tell me what made ye swear yer vow never to wed. It must have been something serious. And it must have been well-known, if even a maid can tell me about it.”
He glanced away, swallowing.
I should have ken she wouldnae let this go.
For a moment, images flashed through his mind. A cold wedding ring, the weight of a baby in his arms, a thrill of pure, cold horror.
He didn’t let the images turn into full-blown memories. No, he didn’t want to go there again. Who would? He’d spent too long trying to forget.
“Do ye really need to ken everything about me?” he whispered roughly. “Must ye dig up every secret?”
She moved toward him until he could smell her rosewater perfume again. He wasn’t sure where the scent of lavender was coming from. Her clothes, perhaps? Her hair?
He met her gaze squarely, waiting for her to speak.
“Ye must ken that it’s nae about digging up yer secrets,” she said. “I daenae ken anything about ye. Nae yer past, nae who ye are. All I ken is that ye swore a vow, and marrying me would break it and cause God only kens what problems.”
“So, ye daenae wish to be with me.”
She held out her arms to the side. “Me wishes have nothing to do with this. We’re at an impasse.
Ye willnae tell me, and I cannae trust ye without kenning.
Even if I did ken, it might still be too risky for ye to break yer vow.
And now here we are, stuck in this bloody library, and I—” She broke off, shaking her head.
He tilted his head. “Is it so terrible? Being alone with me?”
She glanced up, meeting his eyes, and for an instant, he saw desire flare there, her pupils blowing wide.
She wants me, he realized, heat landing like a stone in his gut. She wants me again.
The feeling was more than mutual. He hadn’t gotten his own satisfaction last night by the loch, after all. He’d chosen not to; it had not been the right time. But that didn’t mean he hadn’t thought of it.
His dreams, when he had managed to sleep, had sent her crawling over his mattress with that slow smile on her face, hands outstretched, reaching for him. He’d never been able to reach back because it was a dream, and dreams always tried to keep good things away from a dreamer.
He reached for her, almost without thinking. It wasn’t a dream, so his fingertips grazed the tip of her chin. Her eyes widened, and he heard her breath catch in her throat. He could have sworn that he also heard his name stutter out of her lips.
Hunter.
Then she blinked, and the moment was gone.
She stepped back, putting herself out of reach, and his hand dropped to his side.
“If ye cannae be honest with me, I cannae be honest with ye,” she said briskly, and moved to the door.
This time, instead of trying the knob, she started knocking on the door.
“Help!” she called weakly. “Help, we’re locked in!”
Hunter rolled his eyes. “Ye have seen the size of this keep. Ye think anyone will hear ye if ye shout like that?”
She rounded on him, furious. “Well, what do ye suggest?”
He sighed, rolling up one sleeve and then the other, pushing the cuffs up over the swell of his forearms. “I suggest ye move back.”
She obeyed, inching away.
He took a careful step back, eyeing up the door. Then he lunged, driving his shoulder into the wood.
Bang.
At once, the old wood splintered, the lock cracking and popping out, and the frame itself snapped. The door flew open under his weight, and he staggered forward, nearly slamming into the wall opposite. He straightened up, brushing wood chips away, and turned to face her.
Daphne stood silhouetted in the broken doorframe, her jaw slightly slack.
“There ye are,” he said briskly. “Ye are free from me now.”
She stared at him for a moment, then closed her jaw with a snap. Silently, she stepped around the broken door, hanging precariously from one hinge, and set off at a brisk walk down the hallway.
Hunter watched her retreating back for a moment. She’d just disappeared when another figure stepped into the hallway, hurrying toward him.
It was his mother, and she eyed the library door with trepidation.
“Ye must have gotten stuck, then,” she said weakly.
He rolled his eyes. “Spare me the story, Mother.”
“Hunter…”
“Nay, listen to me now. Quit yer games.”
She reddened. “I daenae ken what ye are talking about.”
“Aye, ye do. Enough is enough. Ye cannae force anyone to spend time with me if they daenae want to. No more stuck doors. No more plots, all right? It’s nae going to work.”
She laced her fingers together and dropped her chin, nodding. “All right, son.”
“Thank ye.”
He stepped around her and strode off down the hallway.
Daphne should be gone by now. He suspected she would spend the next few days avoiding him.
Unfortunately, the keep was large enough for her to manage that easily.