Page 24 of A Virgin for the Highland Beast
How can I expect her to marry me, when I cannae let her in? What sort of husband will I be? She must be desperate to agree to marry a man like me. And what should that say about her?
His mind was a chaotic mess as he took off his clothes, leaving them on the rocks as he stared out into the placid lake. Lightning flickered between the clouds as the clap of thunder rolled through the moor. He didn’t think twice before launching himself into the darkness. It was only there that he’d find the peace he so desperately craved.
The water stung his skin as if he’d dove headfirst into a barrel of spinning needles. It was the pain they inflicted that pushed him forward, reminding him he was still alive.
As he swam across the lake, releasing his anger and pain with each stroke, he couldn’t help but think of Emma. She was tall and elegant. There was a light in her eyes that seemed to call to him and offer him a place of comfort and security. Hunter knew in the depths of his being that he wanted her light. He wanted to bathe in it and swim around within it until every ounce of his anger and hate were no more.
It took Hunter four laps to finally become weary and sore enough to go again. As he reached the shore for the last time, he paused and stared up at the place he called home. Low-burning candles flickered in the windows, shifting and scattering the ominous shadows away.
He felt as if the lights called him, luring him back to the confinement of the castle. A shiver raced up his spine, but it wasn’t from the icy winds that scraped his bare skin like rusty nails.
Hunter grabbed his clothes and dressed under the cloak of night. The swim may have subdued his anger, but his thoughts were still as jumbled as before. Resigned to deal with the torment, he made his way to the side door and started for his room.
I should call off the weddin’. I’m in nay shape to be a husband. But can I let her go?
Hunter’s thoughts lingered on Emma as he rounded the corner. There was no denying he was attracted to her. He was willing to help her find her brother’s murderer, but was that a ruse to keep her close? His thoughts shifted to their conversation on the terrace, how close she was, how she never recoiled even when they shared the same breath.
“Thought I’d find ye here.” Violet’s voice rang like church bells, pulling Hunter from his thoughts.
He turned around, wondering when he had passed his sister in the hallway. “What do ye want?” he asked, pausing for a moment.
“Better question, what do ye want? Because from where I stand, ye ask a stranger to marry ye and then shun her. I dinnae think that’s very hospitable of ye, Braither.”
“I dinnae need ye to tell me how to behave.”
Violet moved like a phantom towards him. Only the sound of the swooshing of her dress filled the hall.
“Now ye listen here,” she said, glaring daggers at him.
He turned his head, refusing to see the ire in her expression.
Violet tilted her head, forcing his eyes to meet hers. “Ye had nay right to treat those lassies like ye did.”
“I’m Laird of this castle and will do as I please.”
“And here I thought ye were a smart, cunnin’ laird,” Violet stated, folding her arms over her chest in defiance. “But seems to me ye dinnae have a clue about anything’, do ye?”
“What are ye talkin’ about?” Hunter asked, sincerely intrigued by his sister’s interrogation.
“Ye really think those lassies havenae been through enough for one night? Nay woman would up and run without a plan, unless somethin’ completely horrible happened to her. Yet, here they are, and ye treat them worse than a pack of wild dogs. Why are ye makin’ one of them marry ye? Do ye think ye cannae find love any other way? I thought ye were better than that.”
“And what if I’m nae? Did ye think about that? What if all I can do is force one to marry me to appease the council? And if I dinnae marry, will ye still be on yer high horse when we’re forced to live as servants just to survive?”
“Will ye listen to yerself?” Violet snapped. “I’m nae Maither, and I’ll nae coddle ye the way she does. Ye need to get yer head straightened out if ye plan to wed. And ye need to get it out of yer head that ye dinnae deserve happiness, because ye do. So does Emma. She cannae live a full life if she’s lookin’ over her shoulder, wonderin’ when ye’ll cast her out because of somethin’ she did or said.”
Hunter pursed his lips as the anger he had pushed out of him swelled and rolled through him with a vengeance. He opened his mouth to speak but clamped it shut as Violet’s words seeped into him.
There was no doubt that Violet had a point. Emma did deserve a kinder, gentler husband, but how could he offer that to her when all he ever knew was cruelty and pain?
“Think about it, Braither, because it’s yer choice here. Nay one is forcin’ ye to be anythin’ ye’re nae. But are ye goin’ to let yer past rule yer future? Or are ye goin’ to take charge and forge a new path for yerself?” Violet asked as she dropped her arms.
She let out a heavy sigh as she shook her head.
How easy it was for her to let go of her anger and resentment. It was a skill Hunter only wished he possessed.
“I’ll leave ye to it, then,” she muttered as she walked away, leaving Hunter confused more than before about what path he needed to take.
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