Page 50 of The Highlander's Auctioned Hellion
Hannah was most excited about her new wardrobe, and they both spent a little time planning what else she could wear for the day and admiring the beautiful cascading leaves that were scattered over the sleeves.
“This will look beautiful with your hair. Your mother gave you a gold clasp that would match all this embroidery perfectly.”
Lydia shook her head, smiling fondly at Hannah as she danced about the room, humming to herself.
While she waited for the maid to gather everything she would need to get ready, Lydia went to the window to greet the day.
The castle courtyard below her was filled with activity. She could see Alexander organizing some stable boys, as Callum’s enormous horse was taken out to get some exercise.
The landscape was just as beautiful as ever. The valleys and glens stretched beneath a pale blue sky in the early morning light.
There was a dark line of clouds hovering on the horizon, but she hoped they would be blown away by midday. It was still early, and she stared out into the sunlit hills with mixed feelings.
Her mother and brother would arrive soon.
Is it really only a few days until I am wed?
It still felt impossible that this was where she would remain for the rest of her life.
She already loved the castle, but her feelings for Callum were infinitely more complicated.
The Laird gave nothing away, closed off and emotionless. The only time she saw him come alive was when his eyes grew dark with lust.
Is that all he wants? A convenient wife ignored until he has need of me?
Sighing, she stared at the lake in the distance. The calm surface reflected the morning sunlight, glittering like a jewel against the wide, green expanse.
Her eyes moved over the distant shores, and as they reached the center, a dark shape rose from the water, and Lydia gasped in surprise.
“Is everything all right?” Hannah asked from behind her.
“Yes!” Lydia squeaked. “I am just a little cold, that is all.”
“I shall have your bath ready in a moment, M’Lady.”
“Thank you, Hannah.”
Her maid continued to bustle about behind her, and Lydia returned her gaze to the lakeshore.
Callum was a distant figure on the edge of it, but she could tell it was him without any difficulty.
His burly chest was completely bare, the sunlight shimmering over his muscular frame. Lydia could not see the water running in rivulets over his muscles, but she could imagine it well enough.
Some of the thoughts that my mind conjures are beyond scandalous these days.
Callum stretched his arms over his head, reaching upward into the sun, and then began walking slowly back toward the castle.
He was wearing his kilt and boots but held his léine in one hand, the white length of cloth dangling at his side.
His long hair was falling over one shoulder, and, as she watched, he tugged at it, wringing lake water from it as it dripped down his chest and over his arm.
Lydia held her breath as he came closer and closer to the castle.
Surely, the man does not intend to walk around half-naked this early in the morning!
She tracked him almost to the far wall, where he paused. There were two guards beside the exit, and they had to move out of the way to allow him admittance.
Lydia frowned at them. The guards all over the castle had doubled in number since the attack.
