Page 33 of The Highlander's Virgin Widow
Evander shook his head. “Nay.”
He must have been there for thirty minutes or even longer, swinging hard and desperately at the stones, because when he was done, he could feel sweat running down his back.
The passageway had grown darker, which could only mean one thing—the sun was setting. He rose to his feet and flung the axe across the floor, staring like his life depended on it. His eyes searched the floor and the stones that littered it.
“Get the men to remove those stones. Ye can dump them in the courtyard or the stables—I dinnae care. But the stones cannae stay here,” he commanded, his voice sharp.
“Aye, M’Laird,” Rory responded.
Evander looked down at himself. He could feel his hair clinging to his head and the beads of sweat that ran down his face.
“She’s here,” Rory suddenly whispered.
Evander frowned as the light footsteps grew louder. He turned around and came face to face withher. As Rory walked away, Keira walked closer to him.
“What in God’s name are ye doing?” she shrieked as she stared at the scattered stones. “Do ye want to destroy the castle as well?”
Evander narrowed his eyes and moved closer to her. “Nay.”
Her eyes scanned the floor again, and he could tell the exact moment it hit her—what it was he had been doing.
“Ye’re quite welcome, by the way.”
She swallowed. “I never thought?—”
“I plan to host a cèilidh,” he cut her off.
If they lingered in the silence any longer, it may lead to something else. Something he was not quite ready to face just yet.
He could see the hesitation in her eyes as well. She had a lot to say. She just didn’t want to say it. So, for now, he would take the burden from her.
“When the rest of me people get settled in by the end of the week, I shall host one. I am hoping ye will find a husband at this cèilidh.”
Keira nodded. “I see.”
Silence again, one filled with Keira smiling this time around.
“What?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at her.
“I dinnae think ye care that much about me to host a?—”
“The cèilidh is for me and me people.” Evander’s voice had been sharp, almost snippy. “Dinnae get any ideas. Finding ye a husband just happens to be a secondary coincidence.”
Keira swallowed. “I see.”
“Aye. And once ye do, ye can finally leave the castle.”
“If I didnae ken better, I would say ye are chasing me away,” she muttered.
“And if I didnae ken better, I would say ye dinnae want us to move on from what happened at the apothecary.”
She swallowed.
“Find. A. Husband,” he enunciated and moved closer to her, his eyes briefly searching hers for something. Something he had yet to understand. He didn’t even know what he was searching for. “That way, we can put all of this behind us.”
Keira narrowed her eyes at him, her lips puckered in what he imagined to be mild anger. Before he could say anything else, she turned on her heel and walked back the way she had come.
He watched her leave, almost counting her footsteps in his head.
