Page 80 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander
Erica felt the weight of that single word like a blow, the last thread of her fragile hope snapping. She had wanted so desperately to believe that the gifts were a sign of something deeper between them, a quiet acknowledgment of their growing bond. Now, that illusion was shattered.
“Whoever this is,” Hunter said, his voice tight as if was stopping himself from saying something else. “Whoever this is, they’re nae just a threat to ye—they’re a threat to the entire household.”
Erica nodded, her throat too tight to speak. She wanted to cry again, but she forced herself to hold it together.
This wasn’t the time for tears, and for some reason, she felt silly for crying in front of her husband now.
“I’ll deal with this,” he promised her, his eyes blazing with determination. “But ye must tell me everything. Every detail about the gifts—everything.”
Erica took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.
Hunter sat at the desk in his study, his hands clasped together so tightly that his fingers turned white from the pressure. The letter lay in front of him, its contents seared into his memory. He’d read it so many times that the words echoed in his mind.
Nay man would write this unless he believes, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she is his.
The thought roiled in his gut, souring everything inside him. He wanted to be calm, rational, but the emotions stormed through him like a tempest. He hadn’t spoken to Erica since their argument earlier that morning, and her denial rang in his ears as clearly as if she were still standing in front of him.
“I’ve never given whoever this is a reason to think such a thing, Hunter!” she’d cried, her voice filled with desperation.
Has she nae?
He slammed his fists down on the desk with a growl, his chair scraping across the floor as he stood up. The rage boiling within him wasn’t solely aimed at her. No, much of it was directed inward. At himself. For letting her in. For believing, for even a moment, that she could be his. That what they shared was real.
He had demanded that she show him all of the gifts. She’d brought in the dress, the necklace, the flowers. Each one was likea fresh wound. Someone else had given them to her, someone who believed she belonged to him. He remembered her wearing that dress, and the necklace too, and his blood boiled.
And while she swore that she’d thought they were from him, a part of him couldn’t believe it. The man who sent those gifts wasn’t some deluded stranger; he was someone close enough to her to believe he had a claim on her.
“Nay man would act this way if he wasnae sure,” Hunter had argued, his voice low and cutting. “At one point, Erica, he thought ye were his.”
She’d just stared at him, her eyes wide with hurt and disbelief. “How dare ye?” she’d whispered.
“How dare I? I am tryin’ to keep ye alive,” he’d shot back. “And ye are standin’ here, pretendin’ ye dinnae ken why this man thinks ye belong to him.”
“I dinnae!” she’d yelled then. “Ye dinnae kenme, Hunter. Nae at all. If ye did, ye would ken that I would never?—”
“Enough,” he’d interrupted, his voice cold as frost. “I’ve made a grave mistake. I should have never indulged ye. I should have never ignored me duties. I should have never?—”
The words died on his lips, but they both knew what he was going to say.
“I should have never claimed ye fully.”
The argument had ended with Erica storming out of the study, her tears shimmering in the torchlight as she raced down the corridor. Hunter had stayed behind, fists clenched and his mind racing.
The silence that fell over the room after that was tense.
“So, what are yer orders?” Calvin had asked shortly after Erica left.
He had been standing next to Kara in the far corner of the study and witnessed the entire argument.
“Ye dinnae think I should have said any of that?” Hunter asked pointedly, picking up on his man-at-arms’ tone.
“I didnae say any such thing.”
“Aye, but ye insinuated it.”
“Ye were harsh on her, and yer thoughts are nay doubt even worse. It may take some time before ye can see her again.”
That afternoon, Hunter threw himself into his work, organizing patrols, bolstering security, and interrogating anyone who might know something about who delivered the letter.
