Page 23 of A Virgin for the Highland Beast
“That’s nae yer concern,” Hunter snapped.
Emma glanced at Katie for an answer but found her just as shocked and unyielding as her son.
“If ye’ll excuse me.”
Without another word, Hunter stormed off down the hallway, his footsteps echoing through the silent halls. Emma’s chest tightened as she turned her attention to Katie and Violet.
“Was it somethin’ I said?” Emma asked as Katie’s expression softened.
Katie moved to her side and curled her arm around her shoulders as if to comfort her. “Pay nay heed to him,” she answered. “Hunter has a troubled past, and he may never open up about it. But ken that he’s a man of his word. He’ll nae hurt an innocent man or shirk his responsibilities.”
Emma’s gaze drifted down the hallway and caught Hunter rounding the corner. She knew she’d sensed pain in him, but just how deep his torment went, she didn’t know.
“Come now, let us retire for the evenin’,” Katie said, trying to change the mood.
Emma turned towards her sisters and forced a smile as she stepped into their circle.
Although she didn’t have a clue what she could have done to change Hunter’s mood, she realized then that marriage to him wasn’t going to be easy.
9
“Well, that seemed to go well,” Archie said the moment Hunter stepped into the study.
“Dinnae start,” Hunter warned as he moved to his desk and plopped down.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he tried to let Emma’s question roll off him but found her voice echoing in his thoughts, stirring up the painful memories he’d rather not think about.
“Why do ye nae just tell the lass? Maybe then she’ll let it go and be done wit’ it?” Archie asked as he sauntered over to the fireplace and warmed his hands.
Hunter slammed his fist on the desk and glared daggers at Archie. “Ye think it’s so easy? And then, while I’m at it, why do I nae take the mask off as well, aye? That would certainly give her a cause to marry me. Ye ken as well as I do what will happen if I do that.”
“I’m nae sayin’ ye tell her every secret, nor even get into the details. But from what I ken about lassies, ye give them a sliver of truth, and it pacifies them well enough,” Archie answered.
“Nay,” Hunter said with absolute resolve. “That time has passed, and I’ll nae bring it up for anyone.”
Archie glanced over his shoulder, eyeing Hunter with suspicious eyes. Hunter felt the sting of his friend’s gaze and held his ground.
“Now ye’re just lyin’ to yerself,” Archie said. “Ye say that time has passed, yet ye bear the weight of it every day. It’s only when ye let it go will the torment end.”
“I dinnae have to sit here and listen to this,” Hunter growled, getting to his feet. “I’m goin’ for a swim.”
Hunter, in his seething fury, couldn’t bear another second in Archie’s presence. Without uttering a single word, Hunter stormed down the hallways as if he himself were a manifestation of the tempest outside. His footsteps echoed off the stone floors, reverberating ominously through the empty corridors, ricocheting off the ornate tapestries and grand portraits that lined the walls.
The silence in the passageways was broken only by the occasional gasp of startled servants who darted out of his path, their eyes wide with a blend of fear and concern. They watched as he exerted his fury on the atmosphere, a silent tornado tearing through the tranquility of the castle.
Taking a sharp turn, Hunter veered into a side corridor, away from the main thoroughfare of the castle. The less-trodden path was dimly lit, by the twinkling of low-burning candles that cast long shadows on the stone walls. Their flickering glow danced on the cold stones and guided him like a beacon towards the rarely used side door.
The muted light illuminated his stormy expression, making the depths of his anger even more evident. His pace never faltered. His movements were swift and purposeful, and each step brought him closer to the escape he so desperately sought.
With a strength that only fury could muster, he swung the door open violently, the force causing it to rebound against the wall with a resounding crash. Hunter steeled himself against the chaos brewing outside, a tempestuous storm that mirrored the turmoil within him.
The cold gusts of wind and sheets of rain seemed insignificant in comparison to his rage. He stepped out into the black abyss, the darkness of the night promising a refuge where he could unleash his wrath in solitude. He wanted nothing more than to be consumed by the obscurity, to allow the shadows to soak up his fury, to let his anger seep out of him until nothing remained but a hollow shell.
His heart ached with a raw intensity that matched the throbbing in his head. The pain was a physical manifestation of his emotional turmoil, a reminder of the bitter memories that continued to torment him.
Thoughts of his time imprisoned, shackled and beaten, danced around in his mind. They were relentless, swirling and churning like the wild winds of a brutal tempest. His internal storm mirrored the one outside, the once tranquil night now a maelstrom of chaos and fury.
The violent gusts of wind howled against the stone walls of the castle, tossing leaves and debris into the air in a frenzied whirl, much like his thoughts. Each mental image of his past was a gust of wind, each memory a fallen leaf caught in the storm, leaving him in a whirlwind of despair and anguish.
