Page 20 of The Wolf Laird's Obsession
Elspeth looked back once before stepping out into the hall. “Good evenin’, Lady Sorcha.”
The door closed softly behind them, leaving Sorcha to her thoughts.
Rowan has a daughter.
It was a hard thing to accept. Of course, she had heard the stories about Rowan, and now even experienced some of those rumors firsthand. But she would never have expected that he was raising a daughter on his own.
Yet there she had been, hiding under her bed.
The ghost of Elspeth’s small fingers lingered on her palm, the warmth of the brief trust surprising her still.
Such a sweet child.
Her chest tightened as she remembered what Morag had said about Elspeth’s mother. She wondered what sort of life the girl had been living. What sort of life Rowan had.
She smiled at the thought of Elspeth hiding under her bed, waiting patiently.
I think she may be the only one in this keep happy to have me here.
The warmth of the bath drew her attention back at last. She looked herself over again, mortified by her state. She realizedElspeth had not batted an eye at her appearance, the only one not to.
After slipping out of her dress, she carefully lowered herself into the steaming water. The heat soaked quickly into her aching muscles, drawing a long breath from her chest. She leaned back against the rim of the tub, closing her eyes to enjoy the quiet.
But her thoughts drifted back to Rowan.
He had barely spoken to her since the wedding, except to scold her. Or command her. Or threaten to tie her to his side like an unruly horse.
Her mouth twitched despite herself.
Charmin’ man.
But then she thought of his smile that vanished as soon as he looked at her.
She found herself wanting to understand him more. Because somewhere beneath that stony facade was the man who had raised a lonely little girl on his own.
Though the bath soothed the aches in her body, it did little to soothe her restless mind. Too much had happened in a single day.
She rose from the bath, reaching for the linen left beside the tub.
Flora would ken what to say. I hope she arrives soon.
Her mind flashed to the ambush.
And safely.
She dressed slowly, glancing toward the door.
Perhaps a short walk would ease me nerves.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Rowan sat alone in his study, one elbow braced against the arm of his chair, a glass of whiskey nearby. Spread across the desk before him were various parchments.
Grain tallies. Supply routes. The sort of matters a laird was meant to think about. But his mind had not been on those matters for some time. It was on the woman now occupying the chamber at the end of the upper hall. The woman who had leaped off his horse like a madwoman.
Me wife.
The word still sounded strange in his mind.
