Page 47 of A Virgin for the Highland Beast
“I kenned what I was doin’ when I said I’d marry ye. It was part of the deal we made, remember?” Hunter asked as he took a sip from his glass.
“I’d hoped it wouldnae have to come to that,” Emma said, regaining her wits a bit.
“Aye, well, things happen whether we want them to or nae,” Hunter said, setting his glass down and inching closer to her. “Suppose ye do owe me an explanation, though,” he added, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to her.
“What do ye mean?”
“Tell me what caused ye and yer sisters to flee. What brought him all the way from Clyde land to here?” Hunter asked.
Hunter could sense Emma’s hesitation, her lips parting as if to speak but then pressing together again. Her gaze flickered to him, filled with reluctance. He placed a comforting hand on hers, giving it a gentle squeeze.
“I’ll nae think differently of ye,” Hunter said with such conviction that his chest tightened.
Emma nodded and pulled in a deep breath. “After me parents passed, the clan fell into disarray for some time. There was a power struggle, each household competing for the right to become Laird. Since me braither had passed before me parents, there was nay one from me faither’s bloodline. And that’s when—” She paused.
Hunter could practically hear Geoffrey’s name on her lips.
“And Geoffrey, he won?” he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Aye, he did.” Emma’s voice was as cold as the winter chill. “Geoffrey, from the moment he assumed power, was anything but reasonable. It was like he thought he was a mountain—unmovable. We all thought his foul moods would eventually cease, but they didnae. That’s when he became bolder.” She paused, swallowing hard.
Hunter’s body tensed as his mind flooded with wild scenarios he prayed weren’t true. After all, he’d spent a great deal in a world of torment. To think Emma had faced half of what he had made his stomach churn.
“Bolder? How so?”
Hunter regretted asking the question, but if he didn’t, his mind would wander to dark places he wasn’t ready to face.
“He tried to force himself on Lydia.”
Hunter felt his breath catch in his throat, the shock of the revelation evident on his face. He jumped to his feet. Panic and anger brewed within him. He heard the grotesque stories from the guards who held him captive and knew just how violent they could be.
“And was he stopped?” Hunter’s voice was a low growl as he spoke through clenched teeth.
“Me faither’s men walked in on them. They pulled Geoffrey off Lydia. I heard her weeping in the hallway and rushed to her. Of course, the men did nothin’ to Geoffrey. There were rumors, though, of an uprisin’, but nothin’ ever came of those winded speeches. Lydia kept her distance from Geoffrey after that moment,” Emma affirmed quietly, her gaze dropping to her hands.
A wave of disgust and anger washed over him, making him irritated and alert. Not even pacing the length of his bedroom seemed to calm him. His mind went wild, plotting ways to inflict pain on Geoffrey without getting the clans involved. But it was a tricky situation.
There was no way he could attack Laird Clyde and not have it start a war. Yet, Hunter was compelled to do something, anything to make things right. He knew better than most that if he left Geoffrey live, Emma, along with her sisters, would be looking over their shoulders for the rest of their lives.
“And that’s when ye left, is it nae?” Hunter asked, rubbing the stubble on his chin and trying not to frighten Emma further.
“We wanted to, but we couldnae,” Emma answered, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Why?” Hunter snapped.
Emma’s eyes flared with an anger that was all too familiar to him.
“Geoffrey added more men—men that didnae ken us,” Emma said, her tone clipped. “Every path was blocked. We were trapped there.”
“I’m sorry,” Hunter said, his tone softening. It wasn’t that he was mad at Emma, it was Geoffrey who deserved his ire. “Tell me, though, did Geoffrey ever… Did he touch ye?”
His voice was barely above a whisper, tinged with a fear he hardly ever allowed himself to feel. But it was far too late for him to retract his question now that it was hanging like a blade over their heads. Hunter balled his hands into tight fists.
Emma shivered, tears welling up and spilling over her cheeks. “No,” she whispered, her voice small but determined.
Yet, Hunter couldn’t shake the feeling she wasn’t telling him everything that happened. He held his breath, waiting for her to continue as the tension brewed between his shoulder blades.
“Ye’re keepin’ somethin’ from me, I can feel it,” Hunter said.
