Page 27 of A Virgin for the Highland Beast
“Shall I have the servants draw a bath for ye in yer chambers?”
Hunter looked up, only to give Archie a nod in response.
“What’s got ye so disturbed? Normally, a swim eases yer mind.”
“I dinnae want to talk about it,” Hunter mumbled.
“As ye wish. But ye ken the servants arenae goin’ to be too thrilled that ye’re trackin’ the lake through the castle,” Archie said as Hunter noticed the trail of water behind him.
Panic shot through him as he realized his little detour might be discovered.
“Is somethin’ wrong?” Archie asked, sensing the panic rolling off Hunter.
“Have the servants clean the halls,” Hunter said.
“At this hour? Do ye nae think it’s a bit late for that?”
Hunter pursed his lips and let out a heavy sigh. As much as he wanted to remain unnoticed, Archie was right, it was far too late. All he could do was hope Emma and her sisters wouldn’t notice the puddle beside the door.
“Aye, ye’re right, ‘tis only water, after all,” Hunter grumbled.
“I’m guessing ye’re nae really concerned about the water, and there’s somethin’ more goin’ on,” Archie said, arching a suspicious eyebrow.
“It’s nothin’,” Hunter answered.
“Ye’re back earlier than expected. Maybe ye didnae get enough time outside?”
“The water was cold, and the storm didnae help matters,” Hunter replied, his voice distant.
He didn’t want to reveal the emotional storm he was weathering, preferring to hide behind the physical one.
Archie chuckled at his laconic response. “Never thought I’d see the day a storm bested ye, M’Laird.”
Hunter looked at Archie, a grim smile on his face. “I’ve dealt with far worse than a storm, Archie. A bit of rain and wind isnae goin’ to be the end of me.”
Archie nodded, understanding the unspoken sentiment behind Hunter’s words. “Of course, M’Laird.”
“Fetch the servants and have them draw me that bath,” Hunter ordered.
Archie nodded as his smirk stretched into a smile. “Aye, right away,” he said and then hurried down the hall.
As Hunter made his way to his chambers, his mind churned with thoughts of Emma discovering the water near the door. He wondered what she’d make of it or if she’d dismiss it completely. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he pictured her surprise.
Would her thoughts jump to him as his so easily wandered to her?
Her vibrant spirit and unflinching courage had bewitched him. Was it her fearlessness towards him that stirred this enchantment? Or was he merely convincing himself of these feelings, knowing well that he needed a wife to secure his position as Laird?
As he entered his room, he began pacing as if it would help sort out his thoughts. He ran his fingers through his wet hair and let out a heavy sigh.
The knock at the door startled him. Before he could answer, the servants stepped into the room with the wooden tub and pails of steaming hot water. They barely glanced at him as they set up the tub near the fireplace.
Although they didn’t say a word to him, Hunter couldn’t help but notice their apprehensive glances and the silence that hung heavily in the room. It reminded him of the way Emma’s sisters behaved around him—with fear and caution.
But not Emma, she was different. She didn’t fear him. She didn’t shy away. And as he thought of their impending marriage, he began to wonder if there might be a genuine connection between them. He dared to hope that perhaps, just perhaps, they would find common ground.
The servants left as quickly as they came in. Hunter took off his remaining sopping wet clothes and eased himself into the warm bath. I soothing heat seemed to penetrate his sore muscles, washing away the grueling night’s fatigue.
Hunter closed his eyes, allowing the warmth to spread through his body, and his thoughts once again veered towards Emma. He thought about her loving him, and the thought startled him. He knew there was no way he could allow it and devised ways to keep her at a distance.
