Page 43 of The Highlander's Auctioned Wife
Anna forced a laugh she didn’t feel, her mind leaping toward her own future.Ifshe married Gordon at the end of this betrothal period, what sort of marriage would theirs be—happy, like Moira’s? Miserable, like Elinor’s? Or something in-between?
Was what just happened happiness, or somethin’ else?
Her body still thrummed with the residual rush of the pleasure that had seized hold of her entirely, like an enchantment had been cast upon her that had not yet worn off. The peak between her thighs remembered the glide of Gordon’s tongue, ignitinglittle sparks every time the thought of it crept back into her head. And though the air was cool inside the castle, bordering on chilly, a flush of warmth continued to tingle her skin.
She shook off a fresh daydream, reminding herself that happiness was an internal feeling, not a physical one. Yes, laughter and smiles were physical, but true joy was innate. It didn’t have to be coaxed to the surface, mingling amidst a sea of gasping, moaning sighs in the privacy of a study; real joy was something to be displayed anywhere and everywhere, without shame or blushes.
“I daenae ken what will happen to me,” Sophia mused quietly. “I’m nae gettin’ any younger, but nay one mentions marriage.”
“Maybe that means ye’re free to choose,” Anna said.
Sophia nodded. “Maybe.”
“Ye daenae have a maither to help with such things?” Anna hadn’t encountered any women belonging to Gordon’s family, other than Sophia herself, so she wasn’t sure if it was something she should ask but, in the spirit of getting to know one another, she asked anyway.
A sad smile graced Sophia’s lips, as they came to the end of the long passage, that opened out into a circular hall of sorts. “Nay, unfortunately. She passed when I was born. Me faither never remarried.”
“What of… Gordon’s maither? Yer aunt? An aunt could help,” Anna said, suddenly curious.
Indeed, he doesnae seem to have either parent.
Sophia’s gaze dropped to the floor, her chatty nature silenced. A moment later, she raised her head again, smiling broadly. “Thisis what I wanted to show ye!” she said, her voice a note too bright. “It’s one of me favorite places in the entire castle, and if ye ever need peace and quiet, this is where ye’ll find it. I daenae think anyone actually comes here anymore, other than me.”
Apparently, Anna wasn’t going to receive any answers to sate her intrigue, and she knew better than to press Sophia. It would be nice to have a friend in the castle; Anna didn’t want to chase this one off by asking too much, too soon.
I have five weeks to learn everythin’,she told herself.I shouldnae rush it all on me first day.
Leaving the matter of Gordon’s mother in the circular chamber, Sophia pulled Anna through one of three doors that were embedded in the walls.
What lay beyond brought Anna to a gasping halt, her eyes unable to take in the bombardment of beauty all at once. The room resembled a sea cave, formed of rough-hewn rock, cavernous and somehow ecclesiastical, as if nature itself had formed a cathedral. Slim windows offered glimpses of the wondrous ocean, but it was the glass dome that capped the room that caught Anna’s eye.
“Goodness…” she whispered reverently.
Stained glass in myriad colors spilled shimmering rainbow light down onto a floor of black stone, so highly polished that it gleamed like obsidian, reflecting that immaculate light back. Somehow, it created a sort of pastel haze, the entire space like wandering into a strange and magical world.
“I’ll never understand why nay one comes here,” Sophia said, beaming with pride. “I cannae get enough of it.”
Taking a tentative step forward, Anna looked around her with greater intent, drawing her attention away from the beautiful light and the elaborate dome. At first, it seemed to be some manner of sun room , designed for the peace and quiet that Sophia had mentioned. On closer inspection, however, Anna discovered its true purpose.
On the walls, between the slivers of window, were large rectangles, shrouded by drapes of thick, wine-colored fabric. Each had a cord that begged to be pulled.
“May I?” Anna asked, approaching the nearest.
Sophia nodded. “Of course. I imagine they’ll be glad of the attention.”
Uncertain of what that meant, but no less excited, Anna pulled the cord. The fabric rose up to reveal a rather startling portrait, so expertly painted that the figure in the frame seemed ready toleap out at her: an unknown gentleman with striking gray eyes, narrowed forever in a suspicious scowl, and a mane of silvery hair. The man’s lips were slightly pursed, as if in disapproval of whoever was observing.
“Extraordinary,” Anna murmured, resisting the urge to reach out and touch the portrait. “If I was half as good as this, I would probably never have to marry anyone. I would be inundated with patrons.”
Sophia appeared at her side. “Ye paint?”
“I… draw,” Anna corrected shyly. “Badly, at that. I daenae do it to be good at it, much to me maither’s dismay. I do it to… calm me thoughts.”
Sophia nodded in understanding. “I sing to calm meself, though I am aterriblesinger. That’s why I use this room for it—nay one can hear me.” She gestured to the windows. “It juts out from the cliff, ye see, so it’s quite apart from the rest of the castle, and the waves drown out any notes that might escape.”
“I bet ye’re nae as bad as ye think ye are,” Anna insisted. “Me braithers are the worst singers in the world, so ye can only be better than them. But… if ye daenae mind me askin’, who is he?”
Sophia smiled. “Cormac the Mad.”
