Page 71 of The Highlander's Auctioned Virgin
“Good,” Anna muttered and then walked away, leaving her to her heated thoughts and pounding heart.
As her sister’s footsteps faded down the corridor, Ciaran emerged from the back of the gallery and trudged towards her.
“I suppose that was close, was it nae?”
Elinor turned to him and arched an eyebrow. “Are ye being serious?”
Ciaran laughed. “Ye should go. Anna is right; ye have a wedding to plan.”
Elinor nodded.
And yet they remained standing there for the next minute or so, before something broke the spell. A noise from outside, or perhaps the wind. But before Elinor could mull it over, she was on the other side of the door.
“Wait for a minute or two after I am gone before ye leave,” she muttered.
Ciaran laughed. “The entire castle kens we are getting married in a week. I daenae think they will mind that we spent time alone in the gallery.”
“Just wait before ye leave,” Elinor insisted, her voice sharp.
She turned around and walked out, the door slamming shut behind her.
Her feet quickened down the corridor, and she only gave a nod to the maids who walked past her. A part of her hoped they couldn’t see just how flushed her cheeks were, but she walked anyway.
Ciaran Brooks, ye will be the end of me.
If Anna paced her room one more time, Elinor might lose her mind.
She had been watching her sister walk back and forth before the door to the bathing chamber for almost five minutes now, and it was beginning to bother her.
What was on her sister’s mind? Had Elinor been wrong about to assume that her sister had not noticed anything? Was Annaabout to challenge her on what she might or might not have seen in the gallery in the first place?
“I am going to ask ye a very important question, Elinor.” Anna’s voice was somber and firm.
Her hair glowed bright red in the sunlight that streamed through the window as she approached Elinor.
Silence reigned over the room, punctuated only by the sound of her steady footsteps.
“It is very important that ye answer this question as honestly as ye can,” she continued, her eyes narrowing to slits.
Chills raced down Elinor’s spine. She watched her sister lower herself onto the edge of the bed, one hand resting gingerly on her belly.
“Tell me…” Anna began.
Elinor felt her resolve harden. One way or the other, they were going to have it out, right here and right now.
“Do ye want to wear yer hair loose or braided tight?”
Elinor swallowed. “What?”
“Ye ken,” Anna said, “for the wedding. Do ye want it braided tight or loose?”
Elinor exhaled again.
Good Lord.
“Is that the question ye intend to ask me? Is that why ye have been pacing back and forth for the past seven minutes?”
“Hair is important,” Anna stated, her voice devoid of any hint of sarcasm. She was, in fact, being serious and Elinor could tell. “Some people say that how ye wear yer hair on yer wedding day tells what kind of wife ye’re going to be.”
