Page 70 of The Highlander's Accidental Wife
“Maybe.”
Damien frowned at the dog, then cast a look around them. She watched him, alert and still, listening, before he shook himself. “Let’s go.”
The cold, long ride back to Morighe felt endless, a plodding over sand and frozen earth, with the shadows growing long and longer. The ocean was lost in a bank of fog and darkness, lending an eerie, mournful echo to the landscape.
Helena fought the urge to fall asleep, focusing on keeping Jolly secure and her eyes on the barely discernable line of Damien’s back.
Finally, though, they were by the stables, and Damien’s hands were on her waist, pulling her down. Taking her bag, he led the way inside, and she kept Jolly cradled to her chest.
The hour was far more late than she had realized, with most of the castle residents in bed and dinner long over. Not that she was hungry—more in dire need of a bath.
Upstairs, in the hall that led to her chambers, his study, and his rooms, Damien stopped. He gripped the back of his neck and turned to her, a rueful smile on his face.
“I didnae listen to ye.”
Helena felt a spark of outrage, quickly snuffed out by amusement and exhaustion. Tilting her head to the side, she admitted to herself that she should have expected this.
“You moved my stuff into the Lady’s suite.”
“Aye.” Damien stepped closer. “It had to be done. And ye were too far.”
Helena heaved a sigh and shrugged. “You’re right, I was being stubborn.”
Damien’s lips parted in shock, and she grinned to herself. It was almost worth their fights about moving her belongings to the Lady’s suite.
“Go on then, let’s see it,” Helena said and waved at him. “And do you think I might be able to get a bath?”
Damien nodded, seemingly robbed of speech, and began to walk down the hall. He stopped in front of a door to the left of his, right where the hall curved, and then turned to another door.
Laying a hand on that door, Damien said in a low voice, “This is a way out of Morighe. If anything happens, it’s the fastest way to safety. But be careful—there are three doors, and they all lock on the inside. Ye cannae use it to get to yer rooms.”
“Clever,” Helena said.
“It’s also a well-kept secret,” Damien said. “Nay one kens but me maither, me auntie Finnula, Gwendolyn, and Orrick. Everyone else thinks that it’s an old storage closet.”
Helena raised an eyebrow. “No one has tried to open it?”
Damien chuckled and tried the handle, even shouldered it. “How it opens is a secret.” At that moment, Helena let out a sneeze, and Jolly whined. “Ach, apologies to ye both. It can wait for the mornin’.”
“Are you dallying in the hall to put off showing me my new rooms?” Helena teased.
“That tongue of yers,” Damien muttered. “I should’ve put it to better use in the cave.”
Helena gasped and hugged Jolly tighter, but at the same time, it felt like she was feigning outrage rather poorly. Because, at the same time, her cheeks tingled, and a shiver ran up her spine—a heady curiosity that only Damien could satisfy.
“I warned ye about lookin’ at me like that,” Damien complained as he ushered her into her new rooms. “Wait here a moment while I stoke the fire and light more candles.”
Helena set down Jolly and pulled back the hood of her cloak, shaking out her damp hair. Then, her breath caught, and she looked around, warmth washing over her despite the chill from the long trek back to the castle. Lips parted, she gazed around, reminded of when she’d first stepped into Bluebell Corner.
But this…
Like the other room, it was covered in beautiful wood carvings. Only these were of the woods, the sea, and the mountains. There were windows on both sides of the room, and as she walked further in, Damien lighting more candles, her mouth dropped open.
“It’s a tower.”
The room rounded out, windows along the curve, and bookcases stood at the ready in between. Some had books, but others were waiting to be filled. A big desk was tucked between two windows. She stepped closer, and though it was dark, she knew that it looked out over the sea. Even better, a staircase curved up the wall behind her and led to a small loft filled with comfortable sofas.
“Now, if ye dinnae like it,” Damien said in a mock-serious voice, “we can return ye to the other room in the mornin’.”
