Page 25 of Married to the Ruthless Highlander
If he heard her, he made no attempt to show it.
Before she could stop him, he turned on his heel and tossed over his shoulder, “Ye’ll nae come to this place again.”
Within a moment, he was gone from the room.
Freya stood there, still leaning against the shelves, attempting to steady her heartbeat.
Damn him! A thousand times, damn him!
9
Freya stormed out of the library, her heart pounding in her ears, her head spinning as she still tried to catch her breath. She had to find him, she needed to grab him and demand answers. He owed her that much.
Why had he kissed her like that? And why had he run from her? None of it made sense, and she would get her answers, one way or another.
Her steps quickened as she rushed down the dim corridor, the sunlight pouring in through the windows and coating the stone walls in shades of gold. The heat rising in her cheeks wasn’t just from the kiss, or from the feel of his hands wandering her body—it was from the burning need to confront him, to force an explanation out of his perfect, insufferable mouth.
She rounded the corner, not caring where her feet carried her.
Suddenly, she collided with something—no, someone. The force of the impact sent her stumbling backward, her arms flailing as she lost her balance, and her feet kicked up in front of her. She landed hard on her arse with a gentle curse.
Groaning, she looked up. And her breath caught in her throat.
Ersie.
Freya frowned, her mind racing as she took in the other woman’s seemingly flawless appearance. Could she be the reason Doughall had left so abruptly? The thought struck her like a blow to the gut, sharp and unbidden.
In a heartbeat, Ersie was down on her knees before Freya, her emerald-green eyes wide. “Forgive me.” Her voice was frantic, worry etched on her face. “Are ye hurt? Ye didnae hit yer head, did ye?”
For a moment, Freya hesitated. Her pride bristled at the thought of accepting help from anyone, especially from the woman in front of her. She looked at her concerned face, knowing deep down that it was genuine, and sighed.
“I’m all right. Only me pride’s a wee bit bruised,” she admitted.
Maybe more than a wee bit, and not merely because of the fall.
Ersie stood up, before extending a hand. Freya took it and was pulled to her feet effortlessly, as if she weighed nothing at all.It should not have been surprising—it was clear that Ersie was strong, but still, it took her by surprise.
Freya found herself staring. How could someone so feminine be so strong?
Ersie’s eyes twinkled with amusement, as though she could read Freya’s thoughts. “Ye’re nae the first one to be surprised,” she said, her voice filled with a teasing warmth. “And I dinnae think ye will be the last, ye ken.”
Freya nodded, forcing a polite smile. “Ye must be tired of bein’ stared at.”
“I dinnae mind it so much,” Ersie replied, thoughthatdid not sound nearly as genuine. “Speakin’ of starin’—everyone’s lookin’ for ye. Did the Laird find ye already?”
Freya’s heart lurched at the mention of him, her frustration returning in full force. “Doughall,” she muttered under her breath, “is an arrogant, insufferable—” She caught herself, realizing who she was saying this to. “I didnae mean…”
“Both arenae untrue statements.” Ersie chuckled. “Dinnae worry, I willnae say a word to him. Unless ye’d like me to, then I’d be most pleased to be of service.”
Freya could not stop the small, reluctant laugh from escaping her lips. There was something disarming about Ersie, somethingshe had not expected. Perhaps there was someone in this damn place she could get along with.
They walked in silence for a few moments, the sounds of their footsteps echoing down the hallway. Freya’s mind had returned to where it had been a while ago. The memory of that kiss would be burned into her, she was certain. It made no sense. And yet…
“Would ye care for a tour?” Ersie’s voice broke through her thoughts. “It might help clear yer head a wee bit, ye ken? And we can steal into the kitchens and find ourselves somethin’ sweet.”
Freya could not deny it, that sounded perfect. She said as much, following Ersie with a spring in her step.
Though she had briefly explored the castle alone, she had to admit that having an agreeable guide was much better. Someone who pointed out details and explained what each hall and annex and study and room was used for, offering amusing anecdotes that brought easier laughter and genuine smiles to her face.
