Page 48 of The Ruthless Laird's Virgin
“Hamish has been askin' after ye both all afternoon. He is waitin’ in the study,” the maid huffed breathlessly.
Eleanor’s head snapped up, and Callum’s expression hardened immediately.
Without a word, he handed his reins to a stable boy and strode toward the castle.
Eleanor hurried after him, picking up her muddied hem as she ran.
What will happen now?
Would Hamish finally confess to his involvement, or had something else occurred in Callum’s absence? Something toldher he already suspected what she was beginning to suspect herself.
They made their way through the castle and directly toward the study. The study door burst open beneath Callum’s hand.
Hamish, who had been seated comfortably beside the fire with a mug of ale, nearly spilled it all over himself. “Me Laird!” he exclaimed. “Ye look as though ye have ridden through a war.”
Callum closed the door behind them with a loud bang, seemingly not caring if anyone heard the altercation. “Did ye write those notes?” Callum demanded without hesitation.
The older man’s eyes widened, and for a moment he simply stared. Gone was the menacing look, and instead, he looked as if he had seen a ghost until his shoulders finally sagged. “Ah.” He sighed heavily.
Eleanor felt her breath catch.
This is it.
Hamish glanced between them and sighed heavily. “Aye, it was me.”
The single word struck the room like a stone.
She could not believe what she was hearing. Why would Hamish give up so easily when he had put in so much effort to lead them away?
Callum took a threatening step forward, clenching his fists at his sides. “It was ye who sent Eleanor to the ruins? Why would ye do such a thin’?”
Hamish immediately held up both hands. “Wait just a moment, me laird…”
“Do ye have any notion what could have happened to her if she had gone alone?” Callum demanded, not caring if he cut the man off.
The older man blinked. “I was only tryin’ to help.”
“By lurin’ her to an abandoned ruin with an anonymous message?” Callum’s voice was dark and threatening.
Eleanor had never seen Callum quite this angry, and it made her take a step back. The firelight danced across his features, making him look every bit the Highland laird his enemies feared.
Hamish looked genuinely startled. “I never meant any harm.”
“Then explain,” Callum barked, making the man jump slightly in his seat.
Hamish set down his glass on the table beside his chair. Several moments passed before he spoke. “A few months before Andrew disappeared, we shared a drink together after a council meetin’,”
Eleanor's heart lurched, and Hamish looked toward her. “He spoke of ye often, lass.”
Her throat tightened. “He did?”
“Aye,” Hamish nodded, and a faint smile touched his lips. “He was proud of ye.”
Eleanor looked away quickly.
Hamish continued, but Hamish continued. “He told me stories from yer childhood. One of them involved some old ruins beside a loch where the two of ye used to spend entire summers causin’ trouble."
Despite everything, a small smile tugged at her lips.
