Page 24 of The Highlander’s Hunted Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #2)

24

“ N ae ye,” Hector muttered, trying the handle again.

If anyone could have wrenched the door open, it was him, but Katie supposed that these doors had been built to withstand enemy attacks and soldiers trying to batter them down. The thick wood and strong hinges groaned a little but didn’t budge; he had a greater chance of ripping the iron ring off than breaking the door open.

“I swear she means to drive me mad,” Hector continued to fume, offering little relief to Katie.

Still, at least he’d made it clear that it wasn’t her he planned to end.

“Who?” she asked.

“Me grandmaither. Who else do ye think?” He pounded his fist against the door again, shouting, “Oi! Lassies! If ye’re still out there and ye dinnae open this door at once, ye’ll… be spendin’ the night in the pigsty!”

Lassies? Oh… I see.

Katie recalled Isla’s brief conversation with the two girls and how excited they’d been. Evidently, the old woman had roped them into some manner of plan, and they’d just executed it to perfection.

Realizing that, Katie hid a smile at the sound of Hector’s threat, uncharacteristically merciful.

“I promise, I’ll put worms in yer beds!” he warned, prompting her to clamp a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t laugh.

It was endearing to hear him fumble for a suitable punishment that wouldn’t frighten children but might be enough to get them to open a door. A far cry from the threat of murder he’d aimed at his grandmother, wherever she might be.

Katie suspected that Isla was as far away from her scheme as she could get, gloating about her ingenuity as she continued to enjoy the feast.

There was nay urgent matter.

Katie could have smacked herself for not seeing through the ruse, though she didn’t understand why Isla would plot something like this a second time. The first hadn’t exactly gone swimmingly.

“They’ve bloody gone,” Hector grumbled, giving the door a shove before stalking away from it. “Och, I could strangle her.”

Katie set down her sewing materials on the windowsill and perched on it. “I’m nae too happy about it either. She told me she had an urgent repair.”

“Aye, well, she’ll be havin’ her mouth sewn shut if she’s nae careful,” Hector replied tersely, heading for a decanter of dark amber liquid that sat on a side table.

If Katie hadn’t been certain that Hector cherished his grandmother, she might have been more worried about Isla’s welfare. But just as he’d ridden to Inverness to fetch the fabrics, when they could have returned without them, he would end up forgiving the old woman.

“Does she nae realize that her last attempt was an almighty failure?” Katie said coolly, remembering.

Hector poured a measure of the liquid, but he didn’t drink it immediately. “Ye dinnae ken me grandmaither, lass. It’ll have only made her more determined. She might nae be a Kaysen, bein’ from me maither’s side, but she has the same stubborn streak.”

“At least ye’re admittin’ that ye’re stubborn as a mule,” Katie mumbled, shuffling further onto the windowsill.

She tucked herself against the deep frame and pulled her knees to her chest, gazing out at the dusky moorland that stretched out so far into the distance that it met the darkness before the night had properly fallen.

Either Hector didn’t hear, or he was choosing to ignore her. “She nay doubt noticed that we werenae speakin’ to each other and decided to meddle.”

“Does she nae ken when two people have nothin’ to say to each other?” Katie retorted sharply, keeping her gaze fixed on the landscape.

“Ye’re talkin’ now,” he pointed out, stoking her irritation.

“Only for the purpose of clarity,” she told him. “I’ll tell yer grandmaither the same thing when we get out of this room—there’s nay need for me and ye to be anywhere near each other again, since I’m leavin’ as soon as ye allow it. If that’s three months, three weeks, three days, I’ll just mind me manners and keep to meself, doin’ me work for yer grandmaither and nothin’ more.”

In the window, she watched him set down his drink and lean back against the side table, observing her.

“And if I dinnae?” he said in a rumbling voice.

“Dinnae what?”

“Decide to release ye.” He paused. “It’s in yer interest to stay here at the castle. Yer siblings will flourish. Can ye say the same about them bein’ back at the village?”

Anger shuddered down each bump in her spine, her hands clenching into fists.

“Better to be poor on yer own terms than rich on someone else’s.” She turned, shooting him a dark look. “And dinnae pretend that this invitation for us all to stay is a sign that ye have a heart in that puffed-out chest of yers. Ye like the control, nae me. Ye made that quite clear.”

“Did I?” He pushed away from the side table, though he didn’t take a step forward. “Enlighten me on what I’ve made so apparent to ye.”

She fought the urge to drop her gaze, locking eyes with him until they began to sting. “Are ye quite serious?”

“Am I prone to jestin’?” he replied.

She clenched her jaw, the hurt he’d inflicted transforming into a bitter thing that lodged in her throat, sour and spiny. “ I didnae want to share a bed with ye. I offered to sleep elsewhere. I told ye of me plans for the future, and ye… deceived me. I dinnae deny that I came to ye willingly, but I never would have done it if I’d kenned what ye would turn into when mornin’ came.”

“What did I turn into?” he asked in an even voice, his head tilted. “What was promised to ye exactly that I’ve somehow reneged on? I’m truly nae aware, so ye’ll have to tell me.”

Katie opened her mouth to retort, then closed it again. He was right, he hadn’t promised her anything. Rather, he’d promised not to take her virtue, and he hadn’t. All he’d said was, “Ye may leave in a few months, but, for now, ye’re mine to keep.”

There’d been no elaboration on what ‘for now’ meant. There was every chance that it had just been for that night and Katie had misunderstood, or she hadn’t wanted to dwell on it too much, too eager to have him close to bother with questions and details.

“Ye could have just told me ye regretted… touchin’ me, instead of bein’ so rude to me,” she muttered. “I’d have preferred yer honesty over yer sullen silence.”

He began to move toward her. “Is that what ye think?”

His voice was calm, but his eyes shone dangerously. She’d been drawn in by that gaze before and had vowed never to be again. If she looked for too long, if she allowed herself to be drawn in, she doubted it would end well.

“It’s what I ken, M’Laird,” she replied coldly. “Ye had yer regrets, ye took them out on me with yer barbed words, then ye distanced yerself just to make sure I understood. What part, pray tell, do I have wrong this time?”

He didn’t reply, continuing his steady approach. Locked in a room together, there was no space for a chase.