Page 7 of A Virgin for the Highland Beast
Nora pulled away from Lydia and glared at her for a moment in utter shock. “And what exactly have ye heard? Ye’ve never left Clyde Castle, and if ye’re about to tell me ye’ve been listenin’ to the gossip, ye must ken that nae all of it is true. Those rumors could have been told to keep us from venturin’ out on our own.”
“But what if they are true?” Lydia asked, her eyes widening in fright.
“I heard the Laird was disfigured,” Nora said. “He wears a mask made from his enemies’ skins to hide the scars they gave him.”
“Now that is just silly,” Emma said, folding her arms over her chest. “Who in the world told ye that?”
“I heard the servants talkin’ about it,” Lydia answered, her eyes dropping to the floor in shame.
“Again wit’ the servants. Ye cannae believe everything ye hear,” Emma said. “And ye, Nora, should be ashamed of yerself. I would think ye’d have learned what rumors can do to someone’s reputation. Ye think ye’ll ever be able to help anyone again once word gets out about why ye were thrown in the cellar?”
“What if the Laird died and the reason this place is so barren is that he’s the one hauntin’ it?” Isobel asked, dropping her voice to incite terror.
“Will ye stop makin’ things worse?” Lydia snapped. “If we do end up stayin’ the night here, I’ll nae get any sleep, because I’ll be wonderin’ what things haunt these hollow halls.”
“There’s nay such things as ghosts,” Emma stated firmly, her tone stern and absolute. “Even if there were, ye really think they wouldnae have anythin’ better to do than spend an eternity here?”
“I’m just tryin’ to keep the mood light,” Isobel said as Lydia huddled closer to Nora. “We’ve been through so much already. Besides, if anyone or anythin’ tries to hurt ye, do ye nae think I’d put an arrow betwixt their eyes?”
Lydia bobbed her head as her attention shifted to Emma. “Maybe we can find another place?”
“In the mornin’,” Emma said. “For now, though, if the Laird permits, this is where we’ll stay. I dinnae ken about the lot of ye, but I’d rather be warm and dry under a roof, than out in the cold and rain. Besides, we put up with our cousin for so many years, who’s to say Laird MacRoss willnae be kinder?”
“Always the optimistic, are ye nae, Sister?” Nora said with a hint of sarcasm.
“Well, what other choice do we have? Best to just remain calm. Our survival will be impossible without prudence.”
“And that still isnae guaranteed.”
Emma’s blood ran cold as she whipped around. She heard the audible gasp coming from the others as they stared at the ominous figure before them.
Every rumor Emma’s sister had heard was true. Before them stood a monster of a man, bulky and intimidating. He wore a thin leather mask over the right side of his face that Emma knew would cause Lydia to have nightmares for months.
But it wasn’t the mask, or the size of the man before her, that Emma recoiled from, but his sudden appearance. The fact that he moved like a phantom rattled her more than anything.
“Laird MacRoss,” Emma said, bowing to him without taking her attention off him.
She kept her eyes locked on his face, refusing to be intimidated by him, in any shape or form. The other girls bowed quickly and hastily stepped back from him, keeping their distance as if he were the wild beast who had come in from the cold.
“I was informed ye wanted to talk to me,” Hunter said, his voice husky as he arched an eyebrow. “So, talk.”
4
We’re in trouble.
Emma’s heart beat like a hummingbird’s wings as Hunter stared at her. His burly form was a stark contrast to her petite frame. There was no doubt in her mind that he could snap her in two if he wanted.
A shiver raced through her body that she desperately tried to conceal as a lump of fear clogged her throat. His broad shoulders were tense and rigid, and while his appearance had startled her, deep within her being, she couldn’t help but pity the man standing before her.
There was a sadness in his eyes that she could only imagine would weigh heavily on any man who bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. His shaggy chestnut hair cascaded to his chin and framed his face with an almost wild, untamed allure.
But it was his deep brown eyes that captivated her the most. They were so dark they were almost black, which seemed to pull her in. Almost daring her to unravel the mysteries they contained.
“So? Did ye come to talk, or was it me face ye came to stare at?” Hunter asked, his voice raspy and harsh.
Emma refused to focus on the leather mask that covered half his face.
Her sister’s words replayed in her mind as she couldn’t help but wonder what he kept hidden from the world. The mask, as much as it concealed, also fueled her curiosity about the enigmatic man who stood before her.
