Chapter 20
Daphne made no move to pull away from his kiss. If anything, she relaxed into him, her arms winding around his neck.
He had stinging bruises on his shoulders where her fingers had unintentionally dug in, but he didn’t mind. No, he’d wear the marks like badges of honor.
She must be able to taste herself on his tongue, and that thought made him tingle all over with a fresh rush of desire.
This time, he was determined there would be more. What that meant, he couldn’t quite say, but they could find out together, couldn’t they?
They pulled apart, their breathing ragged.
“I must have ye with me,” he breathed.
Daphne lifted her eyes to his, her lower lip trembling.
Daenae ask me about the vow, he begged silently. Give me more time. Time to try and explain what happened, time to think of how to tell the clan.
Will they forgive me? Will she forgive me? After all, it was all me fault.
Daphne closed her eyes briefly. “Hunter, I’m nae sure…”
“Ye daenae have to decide now. But ken that I willnae let ye go, ye and Willow. Nae now that I ken the truth.”
Her eyes shot open, full of defiance. He should have known she would resist him. It filled him with a shivering desire, and he wondered briefly if she felt the same way he did when he was around her, as if he were dragged forward by an unstoppable force, practically a prisoner.
No, there was no practically about it. His free will had been stripped away. It was almost funny, the way a man like him, who’d always been in charge, a laird who took pride in never being ordered about, was now at the whims of his own treacherous heart.
Who had first called the heart treacherous? A poet, maybe. Or the Bible. Somebody had noticed long ago that following one’s heart was a dangerous thing, likely to be a painful thing.
And yet here we all are, led by our hearts like a bull led by the ring in its nose. I never thought it would be me, though.
He reached out, gently pinching Daphne’s chin. “Come on, lass,” he coaxed. “Ye ken ye want this.”
Her face screwed up, her eyes fluttering shut. “I… I cannae,” she mumbled.
The words were like cold water pouring over his shoulders.
“Cannae? Daphne, we are meant to be together. We always were. Just give me a little time, and I’ll show ye. At least for Willow’s sake.”
Her eyes snapped open again. “Daenae ye see? It’s for Willow’s sake that this cannae happen.”
He frowned, opening his mouth to ask what exactly she meant. But there was no chance, because at that moment, the door crashed open, making them both flinch.
“Hunter!” Helena cried out, loud enough for her voice to echo through the room. “What are ye doing?”
Hunter breathed out slowly. He met Daphne’s horrified gaze just for a moment, then gingerly released her chin and turned to face the music.
It looked terrible, of course, Daphne sitting on the desk and him leaning over her, their noses almost touching. However, all he could think was, Thank God she didnae come in a few minutes earlier.
Lady Pilbury stood behind his mother just beyond the doorway, leaning heavily on a stick. She took in the scene, wide-eyed. A pair of servants passed by, goggling unashamedly.
Hunter clenched his jaw. “Mother, close the door.”
“I willnae,” Helena retorted.
“Ye must!”
But it was already too late. More servants carrying dishes of food and jugs of wine went by and gasped softly.
Is everybody out in that bloody corridor?
Hunter bit back a growl and forced himself to meet his mother’s eyes. “Close the door.”
A tentative hand touched his elbow.
“It’s a little late for that,” Daphne whispered.
On cue, a familiar face walked by. It was Laird Gordon, his tartan kilt swinging around his knees. His eyes widened, before he hastily looked down and scurried out of sight.
Hunter growled. “Mother, what are ye doing? Do we want everybody to see?”
Helena folded her arms tightly across her chest, and for a moment, she looked so much like Skye that he wanted to wince.
“I think we all ken what’s been going on in this room,” she announced tartly. “Or was about to happen.”
“Ye daenae ken what’s happening here, Mother.”
“Lady Helena, if I might just—” Daphne began, but was silenced by a stern look from the older woman.
“Daphne, lass, I’m fond of ye, but now would be a good time for ye to be very, very quiet, aye?”
She reddened, glancing away. “That’s nae fair, Helena.”
That was when Lady Pilbury shuffled into the room and used the end of her stick to push the door shut. At last, they were safe from prying eyes.
But it’s already too late. How many servants saw us? And Laird Gordon? The man’s a bloody gossip. It’s over.
In a matter of days or weeks, the news would spread all over the keep.
Other clans would hear it. It was always a matter of interest when a laird was caught doing something shocking, like kissing a guest during a cèilidh.
Of course, some lairds were known for their womanizing ways, keeping mistresses, and so on.
But Hunter wasn’t, and that was the point. He found himself thinking of what Magnus would say, how he’d react. Not well, but of course he’d be loyal.
And with the way things were going, Magnus would find out. There was no way the servants would keep their mouths shut. Laird Gordon certainly wouldn’t.
At least he willnae dance with her again, Hunter thought grimly.
Helena took a step toward him. “What were ye thinking, Hunter? Daphne is a respectable woman. She comes from a powerful clan. Her sister is here at the cèilidh, and she’ll nae take kindly to her sister’s honor being besmirched.”
“I have had a child out of wedlock,” Daphne spoke up quietly. “I think it’s a wee bit too late to salvage me honor.”
“Daphne, hush!” Lady Pilbury gasped. “A woman’s reputation matters. Reputation, in general, matters, and yours is a fine one. My darling girl, aren’t you thinking of how this will impact your future and Willow’s?”
That last remark hit home.
Daphne flinched, glancing away, and pressed her lips together.
Hunter bit the inside of his cheek and turned to face his mother fully. “It’s nothing,” he said harshly. “Just a kiss.”
No need to tell her the rest of it.
“It isnae just a kiss,” Helena insisted. “Hunter, lad, what do ye think the McKanes will do? Lady Ceana has been telling anybody who’ll listen how happy she is that her sister is home. She’s already nae pleased that ye didnae speak to her and took it upon yerself to bring her back.”
“She’s said nothing to me.”
“She willnae, because she is clever enough nae to make a fuss about nothing. But this? This isnae nothing.”
“I agree,” Lady Pilbury piped up, her voice sounding stronger than it had in a long time.
“Lord MacCrimmon, I must insist you do something to salvage Daphne’s reputation.
That is…” She reddened, perhaps a little taken aback by her own gall.
“I should like to find a solution that suits everybody. I won’t let Daphne be exposed to harm of any kind.
She is… She is like a daughter to me, and I won’t die and leave her alone in the world, certainly not ruined. ”
There was a long moment of silence, before she cleared her throat and met Daphne’s eyes.
“You’ll receive a sum when I die, but I’m afraid it’s not much. Most of the money will go back to the family, you see. I…”
“Ye daenae have to leave me a penny,” Daphne said quietly. “In fact, I’d rather ye didnae. I daenae want anyone to ever think that’s why I was with ye, me Lady.”
A long silence fell between the four of them.
Hunter glanced at Daphne and found her staring down at her feet, her lower lip drawn between her teeth.
Lady Pilbury flushed a little, her chin wobbling as if she were on the verge of tears. She adjusted her grip on her stick and lifted her head, meeting Hunter’s gaze.
“You must make this right, my Laird,” she murmured. “I cannot compel you, of course, but that is what I would like to see happen.”
“I have to agree with Edith,” Helena piped up.
Hunter took a step forward, meeting their eyes. “I am the Laird here,” he said softly. “Mother, ye have me love and respect. Lady Pilbury, ye have all the honor owed a guest. But make nay mistake; I am the one who decides here.”
Lady Pilbury ducked her head, nodding. Helena held his gaze but stayed silent.
“Still,” Hunter continued, when the silence had become suffocating, “ye are both right. This has gone far enough.”
He thought he saw a spark in his mother’s eyes. When he glanced over at Daphne, her expression was blank, but there was a tinge of curiosity there too.
An angry rap at the door made them all jump, except for Hunter.
“I’ve been expecting this,” he sighed and moved to the door.
He pulled it open, revealing a red-faced Lady Ceana standing there. Her husband stood at her shoulder, and behind them were a few other guests.
“Word travels fast, eh?” he drawled.
Lady Ceana folded her arms. “What were ye doing in here with me sister? Daphne, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Daphne said at once, her eyes darting guiltily around.
Lady Ceana huffed. “I daenae believe that. Me Laird? What have ye to say?”
Hunter met her gaze for a long moment, before letting his eyes skip over the other guests. A crowd was gathering now; he could hear them shuffling and whispering out in the corridor.
Turning, he met Daphne’s eyes squarely. For once, she was looking straight back at him, unblinking.
Did she understand what was about to happen?
Maybe. Even if she did, she probably didn’t approve.
He turned back to the crowd. “I imagine ye all have questions,” he began heavily. “Daenae fret. I have the answers. There’s a reason for this cèilidh, a good reason. Lady Daphne and I are to be wed.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd.
Helena gasped, clasping her hands together. Lady Pilbury’s eyes went wide, her mouth dropping open.
“We already have a daughter together,” Hunter continued, raising his voice above the chatter rising in the corridor.
In the distance, he was vaguely aware of the music grinding to a halt. The commotion must have spread out to the Great Hall. He suspected that even if he wanted to step out into the corridor, he’d struggle with all the people.
“Our daughter will be me heir,” he announced, glancing at the people in front of him. “The wedding will take place in two days.”
There was movement, and then Magnus appeared, shoving his way to the front. His face was red, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head.
Hunter met his gaze. “I’ll explain more later,” he added in a low voice.
Then he stepped forward, arms outstretched, and herded the overspilling crowd back through the hall.
“Did I hear right, me Laird?” Magnus gasped, staggering back toward the door.
“I’m sorry I didnae tell ye,” Hunter murmured. “Talk later.”
“Two days?” Helena yelped. “That’s nae enough to plan a wedding!”
“I must arrange a wedding gift!” Lady Pilbury gasped.
More shouted words filled the air—some congratulations, some questions. Hunter lowered his head and tried his best to ignore them, pushing the people back and back. The door slammed shut, and abruptly everything quieted down.
He stood there for a moment, his hands pressed against the closed door. Just on the other side of the wood, he could hear the shuffle of countless feet and the murmur of excited, disbelieving chatter.
He let out a long breath, closing his eyes. The noise wasn’t going to fade away soon, but hopefully his mother and Magnus would hurry up and disperse the crowd before they got too comfortable.
When he turned around, he found Daphne still perched on the edge of the desk, her gaze fixed unblinkingly on him.
“Marriage,” she said flatly.
“I didnae mean for that to happen,” Hunter murmured. “Please daenae think that I orchestrated it.”
“I daenae think that ye did.”
She eased herself off the desk, and he noticed that her knees shook a little. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk, white-knuckled.
“I didnae expect to see Ceana there,” she mumbled, shaking her head. “They were all there, all watching. I… It gave me a start, I willnae lie.”
“I think me mother meant to surprise us, but I daenae think that it was meant to be like that,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head.
“It hardly matters what she meant now,” Daphne responded, her tone still flat.
He tried to catch her eye. “Are ye angry?”
“Angry? Nay. I am… shocked, maybe. I’m glad that ye defended us, at least.”
He reached out carefully, as if she might bolt and scurry away at any moment, like a frightened rabbit. Gently, he hooked a finger under her chin, tilting up her head. She met his eyes, her gaze sharp and unblinking.
“Ye must see that it had to end this way,” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”
“Ye arenae sorry. But ye neednae worry. Ye are right. Now, I would… I would like to leave. I’d like to be alone.”
He nodded, releasing her chin, and stepped back, making sure that her way to the door was clear. “I reckon they’ll have cleared the corridor by now.”
She took a step forward, her gaze still fixed on him.
“I’ll always protect ye,” he whispered.
Her eyes widened, the expression fleeting and difficult to read. Then she glanced back at the door.
“Willow,” she stated simply.
“We’ll nae tell her tonight,” Hunter assured her. “We’ll explain what’s happened tomorrow. Together. What do ye say?”
She considered for a moment.
“I daenae ken if I could tell her what’s happened right now,” she confessed. “Me mind… I cannae focus. This was me fault, ye ken.”
Hunter flinched. “What?”
“I let this happen. I let ye… let ye kiss me. Touch me. If that hadnae happened…”
“It was me kiss that Mother saw. That was what damned us,” he answered quietly.
“All those people crowding in, hemming us in…” She closed her eyes, shaking her head. “I willnae lie, I’d begun to feel dizzy. A little sick, even. I ken it’s foolish.”
“It’s nae foolish.”
“I daenae ken what I would have done if ye hadnae been here.”
“But I was.”
Another silence fell between them. Their gazes met and held, and he felt a familiar tingle run down his spine.
I want her again. Want to touch her, want to kiss her.
There wasn’t much space between them, but somehow it seemed an insurmountable gap this time.
Then Daphne turned away, and the spell, which felt like the only way to describe what had fallen over them, was broken.
“I’ll see ye tomorrow, then,” she said tightly.
He nodded, saying nothing, and watched her slip out of the room.