Page 14 of A Virgin for the Highland Beast
Emma trailed behind the Laird as her heart pounded in her chest like a muffled drum. The long, sparsely furnished hallway seemed to stretch into infinity, its stark emptiness echoing her rising anxiety. The few pieces of furniture that did exist were merely functional, devoid of any homely warmth or comfort she had been expecting.
As they progressed, Emma couldn’t help but notice a distinct change in the atmosphere whenever the Laird made an appearance. The servants within MacRoss Castle went rigid, and despite what they may have been working on, they stopped abruptly and paid homage to him.
Emma wasn’t sure if what she was seeing was out of respect or trepidation. One thing was certain, though—the mere presence of the Laird commanded an invisible authority that filled the room.
“Keep up, Miss Knox,” the Laird called over his shoulder, his voice echoing hollowly in the long corridor and rattling Emma to the core.
Quickening her steps, Emma barely had time to react as the Laird, who had reached the end of the hallway, pulled open a heavy, wooden door, gesturing for her to enter.
The room she stepped into was a study, dominated by a large desk and two chairs. A fireplace took up most of the far wall, and a window was cracked open just enough to let in a bit of fresh, cool air.
She moved into the room and noticed the Laird deliberately leaving the door slightly ajar. As she studied the barely open door, she couldn’t help but wonder if this small concession was for her comfort or his own.
“All right, ye have me full attention now, Miss Knox,” he said, pulling her out of her thoughts. “What did ye want to discuss that couldnae be said in front of the others?”
His domineering presence seemed even more amplified in the smaller setting of the study, and, for a moment, Emma wondered if talking to him alone was such a good idea. She found herself uncomfortably aware of his size and stature.
She cleared her throat, rolled her shoulders back, and gathered her courage. “Laird MacRoss—” she started.
He held a hand up, stopping her from saying more. “Hunter,” he said.
Her eyes shifted around the room and fell on everything but him. “I’m sorry?” she uttered, confused as to what he was referring to.
“Me name is Hunter. I dinnae even have me servants address me by me title, although many still do.”
“And ye’re tellin’ me this because?” Emma asked, feeling out of sorts.
How he managed to take up all the air in the room baffled her.
“Ye’re nervous, I cannae blame ye for that. But if ye’re goin’ to speak to me, I figured ye should at least ken the man ye’re addressin’.”
Emma’s ears burned as she swallowed hard. There was no way for her to know if he was trying to be relatable to her, or if there was some other reason for his sudden expression of kindness.
“Laird MacRoss,” Emma repeated as his eyes twitched with irritation. But she refused to allow him to intimidate her, nor would she allow herself to grant him any special favors. “I ken what I’m askin’ ye to do and what may come if ye take us in, but I cannae help but wonder why the proposal? Ye seem to be a man who gets what he wants when he wants it, so what good will come of a marriage wit’ one of me sisters?”
“It’s the logical thing to do,” Hunter answered as he moved to the fireplace and leaned against the mantel.
“Are ye toying with us?” she asked bluntly, her words echoing in the austere room and feeling like a blade coming down over her neck. “Men dinnae just propose marriage to complete strangers. Or did ye ask, knowin’ we’d turn ye down and leave?”
Hunter paused, considering her words. His penetrating gaze studied her, making her feel utterly exposed.
“Ye are very perceptive, Miss Knox,” he replied. “Perhaps I may have underestimated ye.”
“That’s nae exactly an answer,” Emma stated, her voice echoing off the stone walls. “Is this some sort of cruel game to ye?” Her expression was stern, her eyes challenging him to tell the truth.
Hunter turned his attention to the fire as Emma’s chest tightened. She knew better than to speak so freely, but there was no way she was going to submit to him without just cause.
“It’s nae a game, Miss Knox,” he began, his deep voice filling the room. “The council expects me to bring home a wife. Or else they will find another Laird.”
The word “Laird” hung heavy in the air, ringing in Emma’s ears. She could hear the respect and sadness stemming from the word but didn’t know if it was the position or the title that caused his brow to furrow.
“I cannae stand the thought of me faither’s position goin’ to another. And since ye and yer sisters need protection…” he trailed off. His gaze returned to Emma and pinned her to her spot.
“Which sister? Lydia, perhaps? She’s the youngest and the prettiest, in me eyes. And it was clear ye have nay eye for Isobel. As for Nora, ye may find her better suited as a healer for yer clan. She’s quite skilled and would bring yer clan somethin’ of value,” Emma said, her tone stern.
The mere mention of her sisters’ names felt like a betrayal, and each one stuck in her throat like a rock. But she had to know which one had caught his eye.
Hunter arched an eyebrow and pursed his lips, clearly irritated by her interruption. Letting out a heavy sigh, he waved his hand dismissively and moved back towards the desk.
