Page 35 of Trapped By the Wicked Highlander
Cassandra’s lips parted slightly, surprise flickering in her eyes. “So, he thinks she’s dead?”
Hunter gave a curt nod. “Aye. It was easier that way.”
Silence stretched between them for a moment, the hum of village life a distant murmur.
“That is a heavy burden to carry,” she said softly. “I ken what it is to be humiliated like that.”
Hunter’s gaze snapped to hers, curiosity flickering beneath his dark mood. “Ye do?”
Cassandra swallowed and looked away for a brief moment before meeting his eyes again. “Aye. I was once betrothed… until I caught him with another woman.”
Hunter’s expression darkened. “The bastard.”
She let out a small, bitter chuckle. “I left the very next day to tend to Laird Elias McAllister’s men during the war. It was easier to face the battlefield than me own disgrace.”
Hunter shook his head. “The man was an idiot, lass.”
She forced a small laugh, “Well, I cannae say I was pleased, but in the end, it brought me here.”
Hunter’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he grunted and turned toward their horses. “Come on, then. Best we head back before I the man returns. I'm sorry I willnae be able to show ye me favorite places. 'Tis too dangerous now."
"I understand. I best be back to the patients as well," she said.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
She mounted her horse as Hunter did the same, and soon, they were riding side by side, the village fading into the distance.
The road back to Castle McDougal stretched before them, winding through rolling hills and dense patches of trees. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth, and the rhythmic sound of hooves against the dirt path filled the silence between them.
After a while, Cassandra stole a glance at Hunter. His expression remained unreadable, but there was a tension in his posture that had not yet faded.
“Does it bother ye?” she asked.
He didn’t look at her. “What?”
“That he thinks ye a murderer.”
Hunter scoffed, gripping the reins tighter. “I daenae care what the old fool thinks. He’s blind with grief, and nay amount of truth will change that.”
Cassandra studied him carefully, sensing the bitterness beneath his words. “Still, it must be difficult, to ken someone holds such hatred for ye.”
Hunter let out a rough sigh. “I’ve long since stopped carin’ about what people say, lass. I ken the truth and that’s all that matters.”
Cassandra nodded, though she wasn’t sure she believed him. She understood all too well the weight of unjust rumors.
Cassandra rode beside Hunter in silence, the encounter with Michael still haunted her, his words circling in her mind like a storm she could not quiet.
He had spoken of his daughter as though she were gone, yet Cassandra knew the truth—she lived. And if she lived, that meant she had chosen to stay away, to leave behind her child and her past with Hunter.
The thought unsettled her, stirring emotions she did not fully understand.
What kind of woman abandons her own daughter? And what kind of man carries such a burden without speakin’ of it?
She dared a glance at Hunter, his strong profile set in a grim line, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.
“What are ye thinkin’ about, lass?” Hunter’s voice cut through her thoughts, rough yet tinged with something softer.
Cassandra stiffened, not expecting him to notice her distraction. Guilt pricked at her as she quickly searched for an answer that would not lead to more questions.
