Page 43 of Love with a Scottish Outlaw
“How did you do it?”
She didn’t wait for an answer, only walked quickly toward the towerhouse’s main entrance.
“Catherine, stop—”
But she pretended not to hear, ducking inside. The windows had no glass, but they let in enough light. Broken furniture was scattered across the floor through rubble, and the dirt from her passing rose up and made her sneeze. And yet the wailing continued, and she realized it wasn’t just one sound, but a combination of many, a jarring disharmony. She headed for the circular stairs in one corner.
“I said stop!” Duncan’s voice reverberated like thunder through the stone great hall.
She stopped on the first step, turning to face him. “Then tell me what it is.”
“Reeds.”
“What?”
“Dried, hollowed reeds as thick across as my thumb.”
He came toward her and she realized that the stair put her face-to-face with him. She was suddenly distracted by the thought of being free to rest her arms on his shoulders, to lean into him, to let him sweep her into his embrace—
All of this, after her vow to stay away from him? She shook herself out of his spell and heard him finish.
“. . . in each window upstairs.”
“Uh . . . the reeds are in each window?”
He frowned. “’Twas what I just said. They’re well fastened, and then when the wind picks up, it whistles through them in that strange, eerie manner.”
“Quite clever.” She caught herself staring at his mouth and forced herself to look into his dark eyes. “Did you come up with it yourself?”
“My sister and I used to play with them.”
“The sister you visited today?”
She found even his nod fascinating. Had she ever been so distracted by a man? She wished she knew. The weak part of her said to take what she wanted, that he wanted it too, that she couldn’t stop living—she might never remember anything.
She could never dishonor him that way, especially if they discovered she was married. As always, the thought made her heart begin to race with the fear that she might never know herself at all. But . . . she’d remembered a brother. Instead of taking comfort in that, it suddenly made her almost dizzy. If she had a husband, shouldn’t she have remembered that first?
She needed to distract herself. “Why can I not go higher?”
“’Tis far too dangerous.”
“What about the battlements?”
“Most certainly not.”
“You just don’t want me to see the lay of the land.”
“There are many ruined castles on hillsides—’tis more of a concern for your safety.”
She didn’t believe him but she understood his need to protect his clan. It made it difficult to disobey him, however much she wished to.
“Very well. But take me through the towerhouse.”
“It cannot be that ye’ve been living in a cave too long,” he said dryly.
She smiled at his humor, although he did not. She tried to imagine a broad grin on his face, but she couldn’t. He was a stoic, serious man. It would be a rare and wonderful gift to be able to make such a man laugh.
“I admit, it’s good to get away and see something different.” She gave him her winningest smile.
