Page 17 of My Scarred Laird
Or was this a futile mission? Was her sister the one meant to be here after all?
Those questions plagued her and she turned from Roberta, leaving the kitchen and going up to the small room she was given.
Sitting on the edge of her bed, she worried the apron she wore between her fingers.
Callum was the first man who had ever made her heart skip a beat.
The first one to make her breath catch in her throat. His scars didn’t bother her, and she knew that they never would.
She wanted to do something. To finally get to know him, but she didn’t know what to say.
She went to her chest, wanting to write to Callum and ask about him and his life. She wanted to get to know him in a way she hoped would make him comfortable.
She heard someone walk down the hallway outside her chamber and she stood, going over to her door and cracking it open.
She was shocked to see Callum walking down the hall, his height and the limp he bore were unmistakable.
He was holding a book in his hand, and she knew from experience that there was a small library just down the hall from her room.
Callum must have been in the library reading when she had come to think.
She hoped she hadn’t disturbed him.
She watched as he walked down the hall, the book open in his hand and a look of concentration on his face.
He was almost to her door when his bad leg seemed to buckle under him, and he cursed as he dropped to his knee, his book going flying and sliding under her door.
She was so surprised that she barely bit back a squeak, and stepped away from the crack, shutting the door.
He might have seen her. She didn’t want him to see her yet. She didn’t know why, but she wanted to observe him a little longer without him knowing.
When she heard a soft knock on the door, she knew it wasn’t possible and with flaming cheeks, she opened the door a crack.
Callum looked down at her from his much taller height, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand, as if he were embarrassed.
She blinked up at him, “I apologize for disturbing ye. And if ye saw my, well, my stumble. And heard me curse. I shouldna’ have cursed in front of a lady.”
She swallowed, “It is all right.”
He nodded, “All right then. Thank ye. Um, I seemed ta have thrown my book inta yer room, may I have it back?”
She gasped, “Oh. Of course,” she leaned down, picking up the book and handing it back to him.
He smiled a little at her, his mouth pulling down on one side, “Thank ye. I appreciate it.”
She nodded and when she finally looked him in the eye, she sucked in a breath.
His eyes were light golden brown and seemed to glow from within.
They were kind, and he seemed to study her for a minute before he said, “Do I ken ye?”
She shook her head, “Nay.”
He went still, “I have heard yer voice before. In my dreams.”
She bit her lip, “Ye have?” She knew he must have remembered her.
“Aye. I ken that sounds insane, but I have heard ye speak ta me.”
