Page 22 of The Ruthless Laird's Virgin
It had been a few nights since the awkward moment in the study, and Eleanor had not seen much of Callum. She had been avoiding him at all costs, but she knew that it could not continue with trays in her chambers for much longer.
She rounded a corner to the great hall, bracing herself for the encounter. The hall seemed impossibly large as she passed through the large wooden doors and stared out over the sea of unfamiliar faces.
Long tables stretched the length of the hall, already crowded with clan members dressed in their tartans and clan colors.Men laughed loudly, their deep voices echoing against the stone. Women exchanged greetings while servants hurried between benches carrying platters piled high with food.
The scene would have been welcoming to her if she had known at least one person, yet she felt more alone than she ever had in her life.
Where are ye, Andrew?
She held her breath as she searched the crowd, not for a glimpse of him, but for any possible hint that someone had recognized her and knew where he was.
Few people turned to look at her, yet she could not help but notice one man in particular who seemed to have taken a great interest in her.
He sat on the table closest to the main table as he stroked his beard. His head was bald, while his beard was long and grey. He had one menacing white eye while the other was intensely brown. His sharp nose was too sharp, giving him the menacing look of an eagle.
“Ye will be sittin’ with me,” Callum suddenly whispered behind her.
Almost jumping, Eleanor raised a hand to her chest as she tore her gaze away from the old man and looked up at Callum.
His face was just as stiff as always as he reached for her arm and tucked it into the crook of his. “Remember, lass, ye are me betrothed, ye cannae hide in yer chambers for yer entire stay here at the castle,” he spoke under his breath as he guided her toward the main table at the front of the hall. “Ye need to appear as me bride.”
Eleanor stiffened as his hand settled over hers.
The warmth of his arm beneath her fingers was startling after days spent avoiding him. She had almost convinced herself that the awkwardness of their last encounter had been forgotten. One glance at Callum's rigid expression told her otherwise.
“I am aware of the arrangement,” she murmured.
“Good,” his reply was curt enough to make her want to step on his boot.
Together they crossed the hall. Conversations continued around them, but Eleanor could feel curious eyes following their progress. More than once, she heard whispers ripple through the crowd.
“The laird's bride…”
Her glance wandered over to the old man again, whose gaze was still fixed on her.
He watched her closely over the rim of his cup as he took a sip of his ale.
A shiver ran down her spine as she forced herself to look ahead again.
Why does he keep on lookin’ at me like that?
She held her head high and allowed Callum to lead her to her behind the long wooden table before taking a seat at his side. She was instantly served with a platter of roast meats followed by cheese, wine, ale, and freshly baked bannocks that smelled like heaven. She had not even realized how hungry she had been until she tucked into the scrumptious offerings. A single serving of food on a tray was one thing, but she felt ravenous at the sight of all the platters moving through the crowd with ease.
“Ye seem hungry,” Callum drew her attention to the side as he lifted his cup of ale and sipped.
“Aye, it has been a long time since I shared a meal with another person. Ye forget just how important human contact is when you spend yer days locked away in a study… Nae that ye have ever locked me away, I just meant that I have been workin’ hard.” She reached for her cup of ale and gingerly took a sip.
The look in his eyes was intense. She half expected him to argue with her, but he simply nodded his head. “Aye, ye have been workin’ very hard. Ye should take some time to explore the castle, but mind ye, daenae trust anyone.”
Her eyes instantly wandered over to the old man who had been paying close attention to her.
He seemed immersed in the conversation with a man beside him, and Eleanor took the opportunity to ask Callum who the man was.
“Is that man on yer council?” She nodded subtly toward the table.
Turning slowly, Callum followed the direction of her gaze. “Which man?”
“The one with the blind eye,” she said softly, not wanting to draw any attention to them.
