Page 35 of The Ruthless Laird's Virgin
How long had Callum been standing in the doorway of the castle?
His deep eyes pinned her in place, making her pulse jump and her heart skip a beat. Would they talk about the kiss? Or, had it meant nothing to him at all?
What does it mean to me?
The question caught her off guard as she suddenly tore her eyes away from him and hurried in the direction of the stables. The kiss was nothing but a heated moment of foolishness between them. There was no use in dwelling on the matter when there were more important things to occupy her thoughts. The least of those things was wondering what Callum had been thinking while looking at her with such an intensity in his gaze.
Two hours had passed since Callum had seen Eleanor riding away from the castle on a mare. He told himself that she was just following up on leads regarding her brother, but a small part of him wanted to go after her.
She has every right. She isnae a prisoner. But where is she?
Callum swung the axe through the air, bringing it down on the log with so much force that splinters of wood flew through the air like little daggers. The smell of sawdust was sharp and crisp, honing his thoughts like the blade honed the wood. There were servants who could chop the wood for him, but he liked to work his tension out on menial tasks whenever his mind was a mess. Worry coursed through his veins despite his best efforts. Anything could have happened to her on the ride, and it was downright foolish of her not to have told anyone where she was going.
“What did that log do to ye?” Iain came striding toward him with a smirk on his face, not caring that Callum was in a bad mood.
Yanking the axe from the chopping stump beneath the now broken log, Callum wiped his brow on his arm. “What is it to ye? Have ye never seen a Laird chop wood?” he grumbled, setting the axe against the stump that used to be a giant oak.
The rest of the courtyard remained empty save for a few soldiers who were milling about. The servants never stayed around when Callum was chopping wood.
Laughing, Iain shook his head before stopping beside Callum and leaning against the fence, crossing his boots at the ankles. “Do ye want to talk about it, or will restockin’ the castle fires solve all of yer problems?”
Callum glared at him and clenched his jaw. “If ye are nae careful, it will be yer head on this choppin’ block. Have ye settled matters with Marion yet?”
Iain’s body instantly stiffened at the mention of the maid’s name. “I daenae ken what ye are sayin’,” he said just as stiffly as his rigid posture.
“Ye ken very well that the lass has taken a fancy to ye. Her father willnae look kindly on the matter if ye daenae set her straight. If ye daenae wish to court her, tell her.” Callum narrowed his eyes, feeling the exertion of his efforts in his arms and thighs. It was nothing for him to chop wood, but the effort he placed behind each swing had almost split the chopping block in two.
The air between them grew quiet as Iain looked at his boots. “I daenae ken if I wish to court the lass or nae. She is bonnie, but her head is always in the clouds.”
“And is Freya bonnier than Marion?” Callum asked him directly, wanting to address disharmony in his clan. It was one thing to allow clan members to settle matters on their own, but another thing when those matters began to interfere with their chores.
Iain clenched his jaw this time and looked up. “I ken that ye are the Laird, me Laird, but what I do in me free time is none of yer business. The matter with Marion and Freya will be settled in good time.”
“As long as ye settle it before anyone gets hurt. It may have been water this time, it could be Marion or someone else’s hand next time under the laundry stone,” Callum snapped back, still feeling the irritation of not knowing where Eleanor had gotten to.
Coming up straight, Iain seemed to bristle at the comment. “It wasnae me fault that Marion wasnae payin’ attention. Freya and I were discussin’ clan matters, and just so that ye ken, I told her nae to laugh at Marion. Freya told me nae to speak to Marion like that, and now she is mad at me,” he grumbled.
Callum smirked, trying to keep himself from laughing. Iain was such a transparent man, yet he could not seem to admit matters to himself. He cared for Marion enough to start an argument with one of the most beautiful maids in the castle, yet he would not admit to the reasoning.
“I daenae see what is amusin’, me Laird. Freya can be quite difficult when she doesnae get her way.” He let out a sigh that made Callum laugh properly this time.
The moment of respite, however, was very short-lived as the sound of a horse’s hooves drew their attention toward the castle gates.
Callum’s jaw clenched again as he saw Eleanor riding toward them, her braid flaring behind her in the wind along with her cape.
Iain strode toward Callum and clapped him on the shoulder. “I daenae think ye should be focusin’ on me when ye have yer own matters to settle. Yer bride-to-be has been gone for hours without tellin’ ye where she went.” He strode off in the opposite direction without saying another word.
Irritation flared in his chest again as relief mingled with frustration. She was not a prisoner in his castle, but that did not mean that she had the right to ride off without telling him where she was going.
He waited until she brought her horse to a slow trot and stopped at the stables before making his way toward her. “And where have ye been for so many hours?” he growled at her, stopping beside the horse just as she dismounted.
His sudden approach caught her off guard, and she took a step back. “I went for a ride,” she said softly as her brow furrowed into a frown.
“Without askin’ or even sayin’ where ye were headed?” He took hold of the reins and began to guide the horse into the stables.
“I wanted to get some fresh air, and just what do ye think ye are doin’?” she began to protest as she hurried after him, practically running as she tried to keep up.
“I am placin’ me horse back in her stall. Ye may want to ask next time ye decide to go off on yer own,” he avoided looking at her as his anger flared.
