The Highland Laird (Lords of the Highlands #8) - Amy Jarecki Page 0,16
heard her in the corridor?
His big palm continued to circle around her back, making her head whirl in tandem. “Now tell me what happened,” he asked softly.
Placing her hand on his chest, Emma took in several breaths to calm herself enough to explain. But his chest was anything but comforting. Beneath a single layer of linen, a strong heartbeat thrummed against her fingertips. Warmth radiated through the cloth, his chest rising and falling with his every breath.
“I…ah…” She slid her trembling hand to his arm. A very muscular and solid arm clad in the same thin linen, making her no less nervous. “I-I missed supper because of the recital. A-and Betty was asleep, so I tried to find the kitchens, but I ended up in the cellars.” She rubbed her hand up and down his enormous, incredibly well-defined arm. “I have no idea how I came to be here. I counted the landings as I passed them. I’m so sorry to have troubled you, but I must be completely turned around—”
“Och, Achnacarry is so vast anyone could find themselves lost.”
“Anyone?”
His hand paused. “Aye, so you missed the meal, did you? And why didn’t Betty bring you something after your performance?”
Her bare toe turned inward as she scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. “I suppose I wasn’t hungry after.”
“I see.” He stepped back and grasped her shoulders. “Give me a moment to don my kilt and I’ll take you to the kitchens myself.”
“You?” She rubbed her outer arms to ward off a sudden chill. “I wouldn’t want to trouble you any more than I already have. Mayhap if we found Betty.”
“Not to worry.” Ciar’s bold strides padded the floorboards. “Besides, I’m already awake. No use waking your lady’s maid. We might end up rousing the entire household, and then there truly would be hell to pay.”
She gulped. Aye, in the form of an outrageous scandal.
Clothing rustled. Emma gulped. Had he just mentioned donning his plaid? What on earth had he been wearing before?
Merely a shirt? Saints preserve me!
She tapped her cane against the door. “I hate being an imposition.”
“Not at all. After your performance this…er…last eve, I ought to do something to express my gratitude.” He stepped beside her, lightly brushing his fingertips down her arm, letting her know where he stood. “Are you ready?”
“Aye, but please check the corridor to ensure no one will see us.”
“At your service, m’lady.”
Emma chuckled. “I’m no one’s lady.”
“I’m certain Robert will see that rectified one day.” He opened the door and stepped out, then returned and grasped her hand. “’Tis clear.”
Together they proceeded down the same steps she’d just ascended—she was positive by the echo. “If we keep on this way, we’ll end up in the cellars for certain.”
“The stairwell splits three ways on the ground floor. It can be tricky for anyone. If you take the wrong turn, you most certainly will end up in the cellars.”
“All right, but how did I arrive at your chamber door rather than mine? I ken I retraced my steps.”
“You must have wandered up the wrong set of spiral steps. The one on the right leads to the south wing, the one in the middle leads to the west wing, and if you continue downward you end up in the cellars.”
“Why in heaven’s name did Betty not tell me to mind which stairwell I was using?”
“Perhaps she reasoned you wouldn’t be wandering about alone.”
“My chamber is in the west wing, then?”
“The south, I believe, given your explanation.”
“Och. If I hadn’t found you I might have ended up wandering Achnacarry’s corridors for the rest of my days.”
“I don’t know.” He chuckled. “Once they realized you were missing, Robert would have sent out a search party.”
“Aye, knowing my brother, he would have put up a reward for anyone who had information on my whereabouts.”
“A reward? That sounds tempting. How much of a reward?”
Emma thwacked his arm. “Oh, stop.”
“Very well, if I must, but it is always ever so fun to pull your brother’s leg.”
“When it comes to me, his sense of humor is lacking.”
“Though I am quite fond of Grant, I must say the good Lord made him a wee bit over-serious.”
Emma chuckled. “Truly.”
As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, she took in a deep breath. Had she wandered past on her own, she would have recognized the redolence of burning wood from the hearth’s fire mingling with the heady odor of a simmering lamb pottage. Warmer air bathed her face. “We’ve arrived.”