Page 18 of The Ruthless Laird's Virgin
It took Eleanor a moment to take in what she was seeing as she looked around the cramped space, smelling the fire crackling in the hearth, old books, and just a hint of cigars and ale. Every corner of the study was covered in books, rolls of parchment, ledgers, and what looked to be stacks of letters.
A large table with a map had been set in the center of the room, drawing all of her focus as she made her way over. What seemed like dozens of sewing pins had been used to mark out specific locations, while a single string of twine had been used to connect them all.
She ran the tips of her fingers along the path, realizing with a jolt that the path denoted the very roads her brother had been traveling.
He is keepin’ his word. He is lookin’ for Andrew.
Her chest clenched with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. Even if the laird was a grumpy and sarcastic bampot at times, he seemed to be a man of his word.
“Ye ken what ye are lookin’ at?” Callum’s deep voice suddenly spoke up from behind her, tinged with amusement.
Feeling startled, she raised a hand to her chest. “Me Laird!” She leaned back against the desk, almost knocking a few of the pins off the map.
Callum stood leaning against the doorframe, his lips curled into a smirk as he crossed his large arms over his chest. “Are all highborn lasses from Edinburgh this easy to scare?” His voice held the unmistakable hint of sarcasm and teasing that had come to annoy her in the cabin.
Straightening, she glared at him. “I daenae ken what me place of birth has to do with anythin’, me Laird. I am just as capable of managin’ me own affairs as any other lass in Scotland,” she said defiantly, tilting her chin up.
His smirk only grew wider as he uncrossed his arms and strode toward the table, looking from the slightly shifted pins to her face. “And, do ye ken what ye were lookin’ at?”
“I managed, me Laird,” she bit back.
“Call me Callum. Ye are me fake bride, after all,” he said gruffly.
She bristled slightly as she forced a stiff smile. “Very well, Callum, I can manage, thank ye.”
To her great surprise, he seemed utterly amused by her response. “As long as ye daenae try and manage me, lass.”
Feeling the corner of her lips twitch with annoyance, Eleanor attempted to compose herself. “I am nae here to manage anyone’s affairs other than me brother’s, thank ye very much. I have nae interest in…” she gestured in the air, encompassing the whole castle. “Any of the games that ye are playin’ with yer clan.”
His eyes suddenly sharpened as he looked up at her and lowered his tone. “Game? This is nay game, lass. Every breath, step, and decision ye make in this castle matters. Every question carries weight, and who ye ask those questions of matters even more. Mind ye keep that in yer head in the days to come.”
Her pulse quickened when he held her gaze for a little too long as his dark eyes bored into hers. “Then tell me what it is that I am to be doin’ here?” She raised an eyebrow in defiance, refusing to be intimidated by him.
Crossing his arms over his chest again, Callum nodded toward the map on the table. “Ye are to pore over every ledger, letter, and piece of parchment in this study, that is, if ye wish to ken what happened to yer brother. What ye see here is every piece of information me council could gather on yer brother. I shall help ye when I have the time, but ye will be on yer own for the most part.”
She looked around the study as she realized the challenge ahead. When Callum said it all related to Andrew, he likely meant entries into ledgers, signatures, letters, and even simple notes. It would take her at least a week to sort everything out on her own, even if she worked all night.
His voice cut through her thoughts again. “That is if ye are up to the challenge. There is plenty of work to be done.”
Eleanor’s head snapped back in his direction. “I am very capable of managin’, I can assure ye. If ye leave me to it, I shall sort through this mess before too long.” Her soul burned with determination, both to find her brother and to prove to the man that she was capable of the task.
Huffing slightly, he unfolded his arms and closed the distance between them, stopping only when he was a few inches away from her, looking down. “As ye wish, lass, but I meant what I said, keep to yerself. I have eyes in every section of this castle. I may nae ken which of those eyes I can trust, but they are still there.”
Her chest began to rise and fall in a steady rhythm with every breath. She did not know why she reacted the way she did in his presence, but she was unwilling to let the change in her affect her actions. “I am here for one thing, and one thing only, to find me brother. I have no intentions of speakin’ to anyone other than me maid. And even then, it will never go beyond what is considered appropriate. Ye have me word.”
Something in his gaze shifted as he looked at her, nothing discernible, yet a flicker of something she could not place.
Mistrust?
She felt her heart skipping a beat again as she wondered what he was thinking. It was no surprise that he would not be able totrust anyone. Someone had betrayed him and almost succeeded in taking his life. She would have had a hard time trusting anyone as well if she had been in his place.
Eleanor held his gaze defiantly as she became increasingly aware of the rushing of her pulse. The air was thick between them, filled with all the questions she longed to ask him, yet pride stood in her way. She needed to prove herself, not only that she was capable, but that he could trust her.
He suddenly stepped toward her again, making Eleanor draw in a sharp breath. Callum placed his hand under her chin, tilting her face further up toward his until their lips were close to touching. “Just keep to yerself, lass. That is all I am sayin’.” His eyes dropped to her lips as they grew even darker.
Her heart began to race a million miles per minute as she wondered if he wanted to kiss her.
What shall I do?
