Page 60 of Hunted By the Hard Highlander

“Ach, but we have benches that would keep ye from puttin’ yerself into the dirt,” she said.

She went quiet then, focusing on the task at hand. The guests stepped around them, slowly making their way out of the ancient stone walls and into the sunlight. Their excitement settled something in Aurora, as if they were truly looking forward to seeing her officially become a member of Clan Anderson.

“Yer lavender sprouted this mornin’,” Mrs. Duncan said as she straightened out, seemingly satisfied with the work she had done. “Come, I will show ye.”

Glad to have a distraction from the excitement of the day, Aurora walked along with Mrs. Duncan. This was something that she had been eagerly awaiting. Hilda had tracked down clay pots shortly after Aurora had revealed her plans. Mrs. Duncan had been the one to silently source seeds. Aurora had been looking the over every day since she had planted them in the soil mix, but there had not been any signs of growth until today.

“I do hope that Laird Anderson likes them,” Aurora said, glad that the noise of the celebration was behind them for now.

Mrs. Duncan opened the door to her own quarters, which they had collectively decided would be the place that avoided scrutiny the most.

“So ye think that this is a good surprise?” Aurora asked, crouching in front of the pots that contained her seedlings.

She could not say for certain why it mattered so much to her that Hendry enjoyed what she had planned. Part of it, she thought, was that it only felt right for a new bride to present her husband with something to mark their union. Another part whispered that she desperately needed to pay him back for all of the good he had done for her and her brother.

“Aye, this is an excellent surprise,” Mrs. Duncan confirmed, watching Aurora as she inspected the tiny cotyledons of the nascent lavender plants. “It is the kind of thing that is useful. He values that over anythin’ sentimental and frivolous.”

“Ye are right,” Aurora muttered, pushing herself upright once more. “I suppose I am overthinkin’ this.”

“It isnae an uncommon thing,” Mrs. Duncan said, walking over to Aurora and holding her cheeks between her palms. Her eyes roamed Aurora’s face, the braids in her hair, the jewels around her neck. Then, she pulled Aurora in, pressing a motherly kiss to her forehead. “Ye look absolutely bonnie, me Lady. A proper Highland bride.”

She let go of Aurora then, stepping back and taking in her form. After a beat, she turned and walked toward the door, leaving Aurora alone. Before she left, she looked back over her shoulder, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Ye have a wee bit before they will need ye at the chapel. Perhaps ye should take advantage of yer last moments unmarried.”

Before Aurora had a chance to respond to Mrs. Duncan’s parting words, the woman stepped back into the corridor. For a few beats, Aurora simply stood there, staring at the space the other woman had just vacated. Then, slowly, a grateful smile spread over her face.

“I should take this moment to meself,” she murmured, casting on final look at the plants she would present to Hendry after the castle had cleared out.

Her feet carried her into the hallway, the door closing behind her as she stepped out of it. Without a conscious thought, her feet carried her through the halls. It was not until she had come to a stop in front of the library that she had not visited since the night she learned of the tunnels that lined the interior of the castle.

Saints, I was so foolish to follow him in.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, another took its place. Perhaps the tunnel would lead to the herb garden. If that were the case, she could easily transport the pots. There was just enough time before the ceremony began for her to find her way there, if there was a path there.

Before she could think too hard about the possible dangers she was embarking on, she slipped into the library and closed the door behind her. Finding the hidden latch easily, she reminded herself that she must be vigilant as she moved. Though Hendry may have disengaged some of the traps while preparing the tunnels to be used for evacuation, it would be foolish to assume that he had not left some of them active.

The air inside the passageway was cold, but it did not smell as stale as it had the first time she had entered.

“It must be because of Hendry’s work here,” she said, though she did not quite believe the words.

She noted that the torches were burning, casting flickering light over the staircase leading down into the ancient system. It only confirmed her assumption that he had begun preparations. If anything were to happen while they were inside during the celebrations, they could evacuate smoothly.

“This is good,” she whispered, her eyes sweeping the walls and the floors with each step that she took deeper. “It shouldnae take me too long to find me way there if there is a way there.”

For several minutes, she moved in complete, focused silence. She was sure that she was on the right path, no longer within the castle but beneath the grounds. By her estimates, she was nearly halfway there.

As she followed the slight curve of the path, she heard rustling coming from behind her. Her body froze, her mind trying to piece together what she was hearing. She told herself that it was simply a rat or some other pest, and she had nearly convinced herself of it when the sound coalesced into footsteps.

Nay. Perhaps it is a guard… Perhaps…

Aurora did not have a chance to move before the intruder had caught up to her. Without giving her a chance to pull her blade from where she’d hidden it, a man pulled her against her chest, holding her tightly against his body. All at once the anxiety that she had been feeling in steady waves for the duration of the day sharpened into panic so thick she thought it might burst from her stomach.

She opened her mouth to scream, but it was muffled by a gloved hand before a single sound could escape. When she attempted to fight, the grip on her body only tightened like a vice. She was trapped, unable to cry out for help, and utterly at the mercy of the stranger who had captured her.

Only, this was not a stranger. The realization seemed to bring the temperature down even further, making the tunnels feel more like a tomb.

“Ye have grown into quite the Highland bride, me sweet niece.”