Page 99 of Wedded to the Heartless Highlander
“Did it nae?” Erica shot back, tears spilling down her cheeks. “If I wasnae here, he wouldnae have?—”
“Stop,” Hunter interrupted, his voice firm but not unkind. “Ye arenae responsible for his madness.”
Erica shook her head, the weight of her guilt crushing her. “I cannae do this, Hunter. I cannae stay here and watch everyone suffer because of me.”
She turned and fled the hall, ignoring his calls. When she reached her chamber, she locked the door and collapsed onto her bed.
Sobs wracked her body as she buried her face in the pillows, the events of the night replaying in her mind like a terrible dream. Eventually, she fell into a restless sleep, her tears staining her pillows.
28
Hunter stood in the Great Hall long after Erica had fled, the echo of her footsteps still reverberating in his mind. The fire crackled in the hearth, its warmth doing little to thaw the icy knot forming in his chest. He stared into the flames, his fists clenched at his sides.
She wants to leave?
The words replayed in his head, and every time they did, they cut deeper.
Hunter had faced countless battles, but this felt like losing a war he hadn’t even realized he was fighting.
“Me Laird?” Calvin’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. The man-at-arms stood by the door, his expression hesitant. “Is everythin’ all right?”
Hunter sighed heavily. “Nay, Calvin. Nothin’ is all right.”
Later that evening, after much pacing and thinking, He found himself standing outside the door to Erica’s chamber. His hand hovered over the handle for a moment before he turned it quietly and stepped inside.
The sight of her broke something in him. She was curled up on top of the blankets, still fully dressed, her tear-streaked face pressed into her pillow. Her shoulders rose and fell with the steady rhythm of sleep, but even in rest, her brow was furrowed, her lips slightly parted as though caught in an unresolved argument.
Hunter set down the small basin of warm water he’d brought on the table and moved to the fireplace. He added wood to the embers, coaxing the flames back to life. Once the room was warmer, he fetched the small tub from the corner and began to draw a bath. His movements were deliberate, his mind focusing on the task rather than the storm raging within him.
When the bath was ready, he crossed to the bed and crouched down. “Erica,” he said softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “Wake up, lass.”
Erica stirred, her eyes fluttering open, and then she blinked up at him in confusion. “Hunter?”
“Ye’ve had a rough night,” he murmured. “I’ve drawn ye a bath. Let me help ye.”
Her cheeks flushed, and she sat up slowly, wincing as though the weight of the day still clung to her. “I can manage.”
Hunter shook his head. “Let me take care of ye. Please.”
Too exhausted to argue, Erica nodded.
He helped her to her feet and guided her to the tub. She hesitated for a moment before allowing him to help her out of her clothes. Though they had been intimate before, there was a new vulnerability in the way she stood before him now, her eyes flicking to his as if seeking reassurance.
Hunter’s touch was gentle as he helped her into the warm water. He knelt beside the tub, washing away the remnants of the night’s ordeal with slow, deliberate movements.
Neither of them spoke, the silence broken only by the sound of the water and the crackling fire.
When she was clean and warm, Hunter helped her into a fresh nightgown and tucked her under the blankets.
“Stay,” she whispered as he moved to leave. “Just for one last night.”
The ache in her voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned to look at her, his resolve crumbling.
How could she think that I’d let her go?
“All right,” he agreed softly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “But nae because it’s the last night, Erica. I have nay intention of lettin’ ye go.”
Her eyes widened, but she said nothing, simply watching him as though waiting for him to continue.
