I’m not that timid, frightened wee lassie I was when I worked for him.I’m someone else.
“Ye might have a point,” Lachlan said lightly, ignoring Gregor’s audible complaints. He moved closer still until their noses were almost brushing and lifted a hand to pinch her cheeks. His fingernails were ragged and sharp, digging into her skin. “But this isn’t over, lassie. Not by a long shot.”
He let go of her face, pushing her backward so that she staggered, and wiped his fingers on his grubby shirt. Turning on his heel, he stumped off towards the woods, and a shadow-like Gregor slunk after him, sparing her one baleful glance.
Emma’s hands were shaking, and her knees were all but knocking together. Not bothering to try and find Flora or to demand an explanation, she turned tail and fled as fast as she could back down the hill towards the waiting carriage.
Thomas disentangled himself from Dominic’s dry business conversation as soon as he could, heading straight for the exit again. He thought of Emma waiting for him in the carriage, and anticipation fizzled in his stomach.
It was time to tell her the truth. Thepropertruth. He would tell her how he felt about her. He’d even tell her all the foolish decisions he had made, like accidentally bullying her in an attempt to flirt and asking Delphine to dismiss her, which hadn’t even worked.
Emma might not be pleased to hear all this. She might not want the relationship between them to progress, but he was determined to try.
He’d nearly reached the door when an elegant hand curled around his arm, yanking him to a halt.
“I’m sorry, I must leave…” he began, trailing off when he saw who had grabbed him. “Astrid.”
Astrid was as beautiful as ever, of course, but it didn’t seem to matterto him anymore. There was a strange, cold look in her eyes that he didn’t like.
Had that always been there?
“I can’t stay,” he said shortly, trying to yank his arm away.
Her grip was surprisingly strong. “I have something to show ye, Me Laird. Please, it’ll just take a moment. I think that ye ought to see it.”
Thomas frowned, glancing at the open doorway. He could just walk out and be gone.
“Fine,” he said reluctantly, “but I really only have a few moments.”
She beamed. “Not to worry, Me Laird. Come here, to the window.”
She led him to a shadowy corner of the pub, where a small window was set deep into the wall. It offered a view of the courtyard, and he could see the carriage waiting out there, with the dark hillside looming beyond, dusted with silvery moonlight.
“Why are you showing me…” he trailed off, noticing that the carriage door was open. Wide open, and Emma was not inside. “Wait, where is she?”
He leaned closer to the window, holding his breath so as not to fog up the glass, and scanned the dark hillside.
Thomas saw Emma silhouetted on the peak, and his breath stopped in his throat. He could tell at once that it was her standing there. But, who was the man?
They stood beside a large boulder, probably thinking that they were hidden from view of the pub below. The man was a large, bulky sort of man, as far as Thomas could tell, but he and Emma were standing close together.
Too close.
Thomas couldn’t hear a word of their conversation, of course. Even without the chatter and chaos of the pub, they were too far away. But he could tell that the man was talking, and then Emma was talking.
As he watched, disbelieving, the man stepped closer still. She did not back away. He lifted a hand to caress her face, and she did not slap it away.
Thomas leaned back, feeling sick and dizzy. Who was the man? Was this why Emma came out here? To meet him? Did he follow her?
“I’m sorry, Me Laird,” Astrid said softly. “I thought ye ought to know.”
Thomas gave his head a little shake. “No, I… I’m glad ye told me. This is… this is something I should know about.”
18
Emma was already in the carriage when Thomas climbed inside as if she’d been there the whole time. He was still reeling from what he had seen. It had looked so much like what he feared.
Calm down.There’s probably a logical explanation. Don’t go jumping to conclusions.
