Page 54 of Beyond Dreams

“Never mind,” she said. “Thank you.” And she turned away, having no choice but to find solace inside the castle. She wanted desperately to deal with the guilt and the glory of what had just happened hours ago with Duncan. She’d purposefully not remained either in his bed or in her own bedroom for fear that he might have come looking for her.

Returned to the hall, through which she’d left the house moments ago, she came upon Duncan’s stepmother, Doirin, and debated briefly hurrying silently across the room to the stairs while the woman’s back was turned.

She’d turned and had taken only a few steps with that as her intent, to avoid any possibility of having to speak to the woman, when Doirin addressed her from behind.

Holly scrunched up her face and sighed before she turned. When she did spin around to confront the woman, all expression was wiped from her face. “Pardon me?”

“Your hair,” said Doirin, her frown puckering her brow and the skin around her mouth. “You are the wife of the MacQuillan now, a wedded woman. You must dress your hair accordingly.” She swept forward, in that regal way of hers.

Holly drew in a deep breath. “I don’t know how to do that.”I don’t want to do that.She thought of Duncan running his fingers through her hair just this morning, tugging lightly on the locks when he’d come inside her. But she bit back the urge to say,I’ll ask my husband what he wants me to do with my hair.

Honestly, it looked quite painful, how stiff were the buns or knots these women wore. She thought Doirin might actually be more wrinkled if her hair weren’t knotted so tightly at the back of her head, pulled with such force away from her face.

Doirin’s frown only grew. “’Tis nae for you to ken. Marta will attend you—as she might have, if you’d been considerate enough to have awaited her presence this morn. She went to your chamber, but you were not there. In the future, you should nae leave your chamber come the morn until Marta has dressed you and arranged your hair.”

In no way did she want to start any fights, but then she wasn’t about to commit to a way of life that she simply did not want, one—God willing—she’d not be here long enough to have need of.

“I will apologize to Marta,” Holly said, “But I have no need of...help getting dressed or with anything else. I’m just not used to it,” she said, trying to soften the blow, since Doirin looked almost horrified.

Doirin tipped her face upward, so that she appeared to be looking down her nose at Holly. “I should imagine that getting lost inside your own home and then yesterday’s little stunt might have made you realize how much help you actually do need.”

Stunt? Oh, she was priceless. Something occurred to Holly, lifting her brows. “You think I’m to blame for both of those things, don’t you?” How was being attacked by five strangers on MacQuillan land her fault?

“Are you nae?”

“I didn’t even know those guys!”

Doirin was unconvinced. “Curious, was it nae? How they arrived exactly where and when you did, so far from the keep.”

Because she’d not once considered that coincidence, Holly stared aghast at Doirin because she obviously had. Never mind how Doirin might have heard about the particulars already. Holly had some idea that the keep was a little like a high school—word traveled fast through the halls.

Her words thickened with anger at the implication, Holly informed her, “I had nothing to do with that—or with being locked in the cellar.” But she didn’t go so far as to mention how curious it was that Moire was the last one to see her before she’d gone down to the cellar, the only one to know of her intention then. Biting her tongue against releasing that, which would amount to an accusation of sorts, Holly showed her a tight and unappreciative smile. “Good day,” she said, unable to conceive any other unfriendly, medieval parting words but pretty sure she didn’t owe the woman any more of her time. Holly spun around and headed toward the raised table and the four doors beyond it. She would have marched up the main staircase at the opposite wall but spinning away dramatically from Doirin had faced her in this direction, and again, she wasn’t sure she was ready to bump into Duncan.

Knowing the far left stairs and archway led to that guest room and that the door next to that led to the cellar, where she had no intention of ever going again, Holly strode to the other set of steps and went through the right door at the top.

This passageway was short and dark and turned around one corner before any doors and other rooms were found. Having no destination, she paused and put her back to the wall, covering her face with her hands. Geez, but why was so much so difficult in this time period?

Tears gathered and fell, hopelessness and regret chewing harshly at her insides. Holly pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes, willing herself to stop crying.

A door close to her left opened and closed and suddenly Graeme was walking her way in the dimly lit corridor. Just as his eyes rather glistened in the passageway, so too must her tears, she surmised. She swiped at her face, hating that weakness in herself, and forced a pained smile.

“My lady...?”

“I’m fine,” she rushed out, broadening her fake smile. “I promise.” But seriously, how endearing was the concern on this battle-hardened warriors face? What a sweet guy.

Of course, he didn’t believe her, and kindly went so far as to justify her tears for her. “Bit of a fright you’ve had, two days in a row. Dinna hide the tears, lass. I’d be crying as well, if this were the careless welcome I’d received.”

No, he would not, she was sure. He was as strong and as fierce as Duncan. But he was also very kind to pretend he was not. Holly’s smile became genuine, then.

“Thank you, Graeme,” she said. “I wanted to go to the beach, just to clear my head, but they won’t let me outside the gate. I just need some place—not my bedroom—where I can, you know, just have some privacy, do some thinking.”

“Aye, I ken a place. Will that put you right, my lady? Having some place to be undisturbed?”

Holly shrugged but her warm smile remained. “Here’s hoping, Graeme.”

He grinned crookedly at her and then pointed back toward the hall. “Come with me. I ken just the place for you to be scratching your head and sorting out thoughts.”

Holly followed Graeme back through the hall and to and through that previously visited guest chamber, beyond to those winding stairs she’d noticed two days ago. The stairs climbed up to the southern flanking tower of the castle, but Graeme did not leave her there. He led her along a covered walkway to the turret in the northwestern corner, pushing open the door to reveal a sumptuous chamber that made Holly’s jaw gape.

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