Page 21 of Once Upon A Haunted Castle
Using the scented soap, Elle scrubbed her body clean once, then a second time, luxuriating in the sweet smell and the tingly, fresh feeling on her skin. She scrubbed her hair until it squeaked, sliding wet tendrils beneath her nose to breathe in the floral essence. Had her haireversmelled this good?
Elle stood up, her feet beneath the water still warm while the rest of her swiftly covered in gooseflesh. She spotted the linen left for drying on a chair. Just when she was about to climb from the tub, a swift knock came at the door, followed quickly by the door pushing open and Beiste MacDougall filled the doorway.
For several heartbeats, they simply stared at each other. Each of them in shock. Eyes wide. Mouths agape.
What was he doing here? Oh, saints! She was naked!
Finally, Elle reacted, dropping back into the water. She tucked up her knees to hide her breasts and wrapped her arms around them, glad for the soapy film on top of the water that obscured mostly anything else. “What are ye doing?” she shrieked. “Get out!”
“I…um…right!” Beiste backed out and slammed the door shut behind him.
Elle fairly leapt from the still warm water, grabbing the linen that Mrs. Lach had left for her to dry with. With trembling hands, she scrubbed the water from her skin and wrung out her hair, rushing to don a clean chemise and gown that had been laid out on her bed. She ran a brush through her thick hair, wincing at the pain of the knots. Then she marched to the door, whipping it open. A glower was still on her face and a hand on her hip.
Beiste eyed her slowly, from head to toe, as though she’d not even bothered to put on the gown. Every place his eyes caressed, she felt upon her skin. She became hot, tingly, and her belly flipped in a way that caught her breath. For heaven’s sake, shelikedhis perusal. She could tell that helikedwhat he saw.
No man had ever seen her naked. None. With the line of thought she’d had earlier regarding her spinsterhood, she’d been certain no man ever would. And, she’d especially not thought that a man would look at her the way Beiste MacDougall was looking at her now. Like she was a tasty morsel he’d like to eat. His eyes had grown dark as he met her gaze. Her breath caught. Was he going to…kiss her?
Och, but why did she want him to?
He stepped closer and her heart kicked up a notch. Her lips parted. Waiting.
Nay! This was wrong…but, oh, how she wanted to know what it would feel like to have his lips on hers…
She licked her lower lip, prepared for when he reached for her. The feel of his strong hand grazing her upper arm, but then, just as suddenly, he seemed to come to his senses and took a step back.
Elle cleared her throat, grateful (if a little disappointed) that he’d had the sense to back away from kissing her. She straightened, hands on her hips and berated him. “Do ye often barge into a ladies bedchamber without knocking?”
“Nay.” His voice was thick, gravelly, and sent a chill of desire racing over her spine. “Never.”
Desire. She desired him. The feeling was new, heady, and left her searching for words, when all she wanted was to lie down and explore these feelings more wholly. “Then why did ye do so, just now? Ah-ha!” She narrowed her eyes and poked his chest. Good heavens, he was thick, hard with muscle. Elle forced herself not to concentrate on that aspect of him. “Dinna answer that.” Why was her voice so husky? She cleared her throat, something she’d been doing a lot around him. “Ye knew I was having a bath. ’Twas trickery!”
Beiste grinned slowly, the teasing glint in his eyes confirming her words even as he said, “Nay, nay, nay,” and held up his hands. “That was not it at all. I simply…” He trailed off, eyes once more raking over her before he frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.
Elle watched a play of emotions come over his features that made her a little unsteady on her feet. What game was this that he played? She enjoyed it and was scared of it all the same. She’d yet to discover the rules or the way to win. And what was the prize?
“Well, what is it?” she asked. Then, suddenly, the cobwebs of confusion were swept clean. “Wait, ye’re back! Where is Erik?”
Now Beiste cleared his throat. “That is what I came to tell ye. May I come in?”
All the heat that had filled her blood pooled around her feet, replaced with an icy chill. “Nay. Just say it now.”
That shadowy darkness that had been on his face when she first met him clouded over his features. She knew without him having to say anything that Erik was not at Dunstaffnage.
Elle backed up, shaking her head. “Nay. I willna believe it. Tell me ye found him!”
Beiste followed her into the room, reaching for her for a brief moment before letting his hands fall at his sides. “I’m afraid Castle Gloom was abandoned. Not a soul in sight.”
Elle slicked her hands through her wet hair, grabbing the sides of her head as though that could stop the instant pounding she felt in her skull. Poor, Erik! She should not have left him. Oh, for the love of all that was holy, she prayed that he was not dead. That Bjork had not found him.
“Nay…” she whispered. “How could this be?”
“They’d already gone. Hid up in the mountains, perhaps to set up a trap, or lay in wait, or prepare for another siege. Here.”
“And Erik? No one was at the castle? No sign of my brother?”
Beiste’s eyes flickered over her face. “Nay.”
Elle dropped to her knees on the floor, sobs racking her body. She wasn’t one to break down so easily, but when she’d abandoned her brother, thinking to make him safer, she’d never expected that he’d simply vanish. That she would have done better to just hand him over to the enemy herself. “Nothing?”
