Page 65 of Claimed By a Ruthless Scot
Elaina obeyed. Duncan braced one hand against the trunk of the oak and used the other to pull gently at the root, shifting it justenough to loosen the grip of the mud. The ground squelched loudly. Then suddenly, her boot slid free.
Elaina gasped softly as she stumbled forward, her balance momentarily lost. Duncan caught her immediately. His hands closed around her arms, steadying her before she could fall.
“Easy,” he murmured.
Elaina nodded faintly, though she was not certain whether he spoke of the fall or of the strange, sudden rush of emotion rising inside her chest.
He released her slowly. Then, without a word, his hand moved gently to the small of her back. The touch was light and almost hesitant, but steady as he guided her away from the tree.
“Come,” he said quietly.
The path back toward the castle was already slick with mud, the rain turning the grass into dark patches of shining earth. Duncan stayed close beside her as they walked, his hand resting protectively at her back each time the ground grew uneven.
Neither of them spoke as they crossed the open stretch of ground toward the castle walls. The storm battered the towers now, and the wind was howling through the courtyard as they reached the gate.
By the time they stepped inside, Elaina was shivering badly. Duncan noticed at once.
“Ye’re freezing,” he said.
“It is only the rain,” she replied faintly.
But her teeth had begun to chatter. He did not argue. Instead he led her straight through the corridors of the castle, ignoring the curious looks from the few servants still moving about as he guided her toward her chamber.
When they reached her door, he opened it without hesitation.
“Inside,” he said.
Elaina stepped into the room, the sudden warmth of the hearth striking her like a wave after the cold storm outside.
Duncan turned immediately toward the corridor again.
“Annie,” he called to a passing servant.
The young girl stopped abruptly. “Aye, me laird?”
“Bring hot tea. And warm towels.”
“At once.”
Duncan nodded once, then stepped back into the chamber. Elaina stood near the hearth, with rainwater dripping quietly onto the floor beneath her cloak. She watched him move with calm efficiency, closing the door behind them and pulling a chair closer to the fire.
Duncan knelt beside the hearth, adding another log to the flames before glancing back toward her. The firelight caught the damp strands of his hair and the water still clinging to his clothes. He had not even noticed his own discomfort.
The realization struck her suddenly.
“Ye are just as wet as I am,” she said softly.
Duncan shrugged. “I’ll live.”
But the gentleness in his voice and the quiet care in every movement he had made since finding her beneath the oak pressed unexpectedly against her heart.
It was too much. He was too kind. He was too careful. And she had been lying to him all this time.
Elaina suddenly burst into tears.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Duncan remained beside the hearth for a moment after placing the extra log upon the fire. Only when he rose again did he realize something was wrong.
