Elaina stared. She had never seen him look so…
She caught herself. Duncan stopped abruptly when he saw her standing beneath the oak. Neither of them spoke. Rain drummed heavily against the leaves above them, the wind tugging at the loose strands of her hair. Then Duncan ran a hand roughly through his rain-soaked hair, pushing it back from his face.
“What are ye daein’ here?” he shouted through the onslaught of rain. “I’ve been looking fer ye!”
The words came out breathless, half relief and half frustration.
Elaina blinked. “Ye… what?”
He stepped closer beneath the shelter of the branches, with water still dripping steadily from his sleeves.
“Ye werenae at dinner.”
The concern in his voice surprised her more than the rain.
“And then the storm got even worse.”
Elaina couldn’t tear her gaze away from him, feeling the rainwater sliding slowly down her temple as she tried to process the fact that Duncan Grant had apparently come out into a storm simply to look for her.
He stepped closer beneath the branches, his presence filling the small shelter the oak provided. Up close she could see just how thoroughly drenched he was. His dark shirt clung tightly to his chest and shoulders, outlining the strength of him in a way that made it difficult for her to look anywhere else.
“Ye must be freezing,” he said.
Elaina could not help the small smile that touched her lips.
“That, too,” she admitted softly.
Another gust of wind swept through the clearing, scattering rain through the leaves above them. She shivered involuntarily, and she could feel the wet fabric of her gown clinging unpleasantly to her skin.
“But that is nae me only difficulty,” she added. “I am stuck.”
For a moment he simply stared. Then he crouched immediately, the rain-soaked fabric of his sleeve brushing the mud as he examined the root and the heavy soil gripping her boot.
Duncan reached carefully toward the root, pushing aside the wet earth with his hand to see how deeply her foot was caught. The contact of his fingers against the mud was firm and deliberate, while his movements were patient as he worked to loosen the soil.
“Ye should have called for help,” he murmured.
Elaina smiled faintly, though she felt overwhelmed and on the verge of bursting into tears, both happy and frightened.
“In the middle of a storm?” she asked.
He glanced up at her then, with rainwater dripping from his hair across his forehead.
“I was worried,” he admitted quietly.
The words caught her off guard. For a moment she forgot entirely about the rain.
“Ye were?”
“Aye.”
He returned his attention to the root, prying the fabric of her skirt free where it had snagged beneath the twisted wood.
“When ye didnae appear at dinner,” he continued, “and the storm began…”
He shook his head slightly, as though dismissing the thought.
“Hold still,” he said.
