Liliane moved to the door and pressed her ear against it, listening. No sound of guards, no footsteps in the corridor. Apparently, Tòrr trusted his castle walls to keep her contained.
Foolish man.
She eased the door open and peered out. The corridor stretched empty in both directions, lit by torches in iron brackets. Somewhere below, she could hear voices and the clatter of the evening meal being prepared.
Heart hammering, she slipped into the hallway and pressed herself against the wall, moving toward what she hoped was a servants' stair. If she could reach the kitchens, perhaps find a door that led to the courtyard...
Her pulse roared in her ears as she crept forward. Every shadow seemed to hide a guard, every sound a threat.
She paused at a corner to catch her breath, leaning against a door for support. The wood gave way beneath her weight with a soft click.
"Nay." The word barely left her lips before she was stumbling forward, her balance lost.
She caught herself on the doorframe, her breath coming in short gasps. Then she looked up and froze.
Tòrr MacDonald sat in a copper tub in the center of what must have been his private chambers, water sluicing down his shoulders and chest as he turned to face her. Steam rose around him, and for a heartbeat, neither of them moved.
"I—" Her voice failed completely. Heat flooded her face as she spun around, presenting him with her back. "I'm so sorry, I didnae mean tae come in, the door wasnae locked."
"Give me a moment." His voice held an edge of amusement that made her want to sink through the floor.
She heard water splashing, the sound of him rising from the tub.
Dinnae look. Dinnae turn around.
"Ye can turn around now, lass. I'm decent. Mostly."
Liliane turned slowly, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the floor. But peripheral vision was a traitor, and she couldn't help noticing his bare feet, the hem of trousers hastily pulled on, water still dripping down.
God, this man is handsome…
Her gaze snapped up to his face, carefully avoiding everything in between. "I apologize fer the intrusion. The door wasnae latched properly."
"What are ye daein’ in this part of the castle?"
"I was..." She couldn't very well admit she'd been trying to escape. "I was lookin’ fer the kitchens. Tae get somethin’ tae eat afore supper. Agnes mentioned food, and I got turned around in the corridors."
"Ye got turned around." His tone made it clear he didn't believe a word. "In the corridor that leads directly away from the kitchens?"
"I got lost. I dinnae ken where the kitchens are."
He took a step closer, and she forced herself not to retreat. "Funny. Ye seem tae have an excellent sense of direction when ye're tryin’ tae run away. But ask ye tae find somethin’ as simple as food, and ye're helpless?"
"I'm nae helpless."
"Nay?" Another step. "Then what are ye?"
Desperate. Terrified. Drowning in circumstances beyond me control.
"I'm hungry," she said instead.
"Are ye now?" He was close enough that she could see water droplets clinging to his collarbone, could smell the clean scent of soap on his skin.
Her breath caught.
He kens. Of course, he kens.
"I was lost," she insisted, though her voice wavered.
