8
Daniel led Melissa up the winding stairs until they reached an old wooden door that seemed as if it hadn’t been used in years. She’d asked him a million questions on the way, but he had held his tongue, wanting to give her a safe place away from her father.
“Where are we?” she asked with a slight note of concern in her voice, eyeing the door over his shoulder.
“Ye will see.” He gave her a wry smile. “Do ye nae trust me?”
“I can truly say that I do not,” she said earnestly, still distracted by the sudden appearance of her father at her wedding, as was clear in her lack of sarcasm toward her husband. Her usual stance had been to snap back at him with a witty comeback that would make him mad.
“Ye said ‘I do,’ I dinnae think ye have much of a choice in the matter,” Daniel teased her while allowing the door to swing open. The irritation he usually felt toward her had somehow disappeared when he realized how upset she was.
Melissa took a step into the room, completely spellbound by the view that greeted her eyes.
“See, ye should learn to trust me,” he said triumphantly while shutting the door behind him and coming into the room.
“What is this place?” she asked almost breathlessly, unable to look away.
“Me own private hideaway when I need a minute to think things through,” he said.
Letting out a deep breath as if all of her problems could fly through the open window, she looked at the green moor that seemed to stretch on forever beyond the castle walls.
The inside of the tiny room consisted of two armchairs, a single table in between, a fireplace, and a small cupboard with some candles. Altogether, the room cut quite the cozy picture with a stack of novels on the floor beside the chairs. A green rug had been added to the center, rounding everything off with an almost romantic touch.
“This is the tallest tower in the castle. It used to serve as a lookout, but the guards nae longer have any use for it,” he said as he walked over to the single cupboard and retrieved two glasses and a bottle. “It’s now me own private hideaway. The only other person that is permitted to come up here is Isla. She comes up once a week to keep the place clean an’ stock the cupboard.” He walked over to the armchair, placing the glasses and bottle between the chairs.
Melissa rolled her eyes at the mention of the woman’s name but continued to stare out the window. Her reaction brought Daniel a small amount of relief, letting him know that she wasn’t so upset that she’d let the mention of his maid slip by her unnoticed. It was evident to him that they hadn’t exactly gotten off to a good start.
“It’s breathtaking,” she said, still reserved and slightly suspicious.
“Come an’ have a seat, ye look like ye could use a drink.” He popped the cork from the bottle and poured them each a glass of frothy liquid.
“What is it?” she asked gingerly as she took a seat and sniffed the glass he handed to her.
“Ale, but nae the stuff they serve downstairs. This is a little stronger, so be careful,” he warned.
She glared at him for a minute before putting the rim to her lips and downing a big gulp, wincing as the ale undoubtedly stung the back of her throat.
“To each his own, I guess,” he muttered under his breath, taking a smaller sip, and sitting back in his chair.
“Are these your books?” She gestured toward the pile beside his chair.
“Aye. I like to read whenever I want to escape from the world.” He noted the look of surprise in her eyes but refrained from asking her why it was so shocking that he liked to read. The look on her face let him know that she was clearly still trying her best to deal with suddenly seeing her father at their wedding.
A peaceful silence filled the room as they watched the sun lowering in the sky, signaling the end of the day in less than two hours. Daniel could see that she was still very tearful from everything that had happened but decided to give her some space until she was ready to speak. He knew from personal experience that sometimes you needed a little time before you were ready to face your problems. He’d spent countless hours in the tower alone once his father had passed.
Leaning over, she reached for the book on top of the stack and examined the cover before placing it back down with a thud, clearly too distracted by her own thoughts to pay attention. “Fathers are the worst,” she finally said when she’d finished her glass and poured herself another.
“Aye, they can be,” he agreed, watching her over the rim of his own glass as she took yet another big swig.
“You know what mine has done.” She removed her veil with effort, letting it fall to the floor, and tugged her hair loose. “Why was yours so terrible?”
He noticed how beautiful she looked with her hair hanging loose and a mess of Burnet Roses in it. He preferred her with her hair undone as opposed to all of the styles he had noticed before. The late afternoon sun made her eyes appear amber more than brown.
“Let’s just say that he would have given me away at birth if he had the chance.” He decided to open up, knowing that she was already on the verge of being tipsy. “I spent most of me life trying to make him proud of me, until I realized that wouldnae happen.”
“At least yours didn’t try and sell you into a marriage of convenience to a brute of a man for financial gain,” she muttered while pouring herself another glass.
“Are ye speaking of me or Darragh?” he asked, knowing that she was talking of her sister, but a bit curious as to how she felt about her own sudden marriage.
