Page 24 of Hunted By the Hard Highlander

“It also ended with a promise that Laird MacGonagal looks forward to discussin’ the matter durin’ the upcomin’ bindin’.”

Aurora’s face went pale, guilt just as present as fear in her eyes. Her chin dropped to her chest, and so quietly he almost could not hear her, she said, “I told ye that I would be nothin’ but a danger to Castle Anderson. Because Adair and I crossed yer path, everyone in the clan will suffer.”

Without thinking, Hendry reached out and grabbed her hand, his rough fingers closing around hers gently. It was an instinctive attempt to steady her, to banish the worry from her mind without empty words. The way their knuckles pressed together shocked them both.

Aurora’s breath caught audibly in the silent room, her wide, green eyes lifting to meet his. Something that was just as potent as the energy that had passed between them in the cabin bounced between them now. Almost reluctantly, he dropped her hand, his touch lingering for a second longer than necessary.

“Ye will stay in the castle at all times,” Hendry told her, his voice firm. “That is where ye will be safe.”

Aurora held his gaze, so many questions that she would not ask flashing through her irises. Then, lowering her head, she took a small step back from him. She lowered herself into a graceful curtsy before murmuring, “Aye, Laird Anderson.”

She did not say anything else, turning around and leaving his chambers. Hendry watched as she disappeared down the corridor. Then, when she disappeared around a corner, he looked down at his palm.

He could still feel the warmth of her body.

Chapter Twelve

Aurora jumped at the sound of a twig breaking behind her, but when she turned toward it, she spotted a cat darting out of the herb garden. It was low to the ground, its ears pressed flat against its head. Then, it pounced, landing gracefully on top of a mouse.

“I am bein’ paranoid,” she told herself. In an effort to make herself believe it, she whispered, “It was only the cat.”

Though she had not intended to disobey Hendry’s directive, the stress of her uncle’s letter was making her feel mad. It was as if she were an animal inside a trap. Had she spent any longer sitting in one place, she would have attempted to gnaw off one of her limbs.

she had tried as many methods as she could to keep herself distracted inside, but nothing seemed to settle the unease in her heart. Coming to Hendry’s herb garden had been an act of desperation. It was the only thing she could imagine would help.

She had not expected to feel so calm so quickly.

As she walked between the carefully ordered beds, she made note of any imperfections in the plants. They had recovered well for the most part since the storm, but there were several that needed dead stems pruned. It was obvious that the Laird had been here as well, caring for his herbs with an admirable dedication. She had never doubted the way he cared for this land, though. Even the first time they had met, he had been protecting this patch of earth.

“Wait…” she murmured, stopping at the end of the plot. “Shouldnae he have…”

She had not realized it at first, but despite the numerous plants, some of which she had only ever seen growing here and nowhere else in the Highlands, there was not a single lavender bush. Kneeling and looking down the rows, she wondered if there was not a place that it could be added.

Perhaps he has it growin’ somewhere else… Wouldnae it be an oversight if he dinnae?

As her fingers slid through the soil, a deep, authoritative voice barked, “I told ye nae to leave the castle.”

Aurora jumped to her feet, her heart pounding. She scrambled backward, nearly falling onto her behind. Somehow, by the grace of the Saints above, she managed to keep her balance.

“Hendry,” she breathed, her hand coming up to rest on her chest. She tried to stop the banging in her chest, blinking up at his frustrated face. “I dinnae hear ye comin’.”

“Do ye nae understand why that is even worse, Aurora?” he practically growled. A cloud drifted to cover the sun, bringing the temperature down by several degrees. She hardly suppressed a shiver. “How do ye expect me to keep ye safe if ye cannae follow an easy instruction?”

“I had been payin’ attention to me surroundin’s before I realized that ye daenae have any lavender growin’ here,” she replied, wiping the dirt from her palms as she tried to remain unaffected. “I was tryin’ to remember if I had seen any growin’ anywhere else around the castle.”

“Ye willnae find any,” Hendry said, crossing his arms over his chest. His gaze never left her face. “There is nay lavender growin’ here.”

“Why nae?” she asked as she put her hands on her hips and tilted her head to the side. The sun slowly peeked out from behind the cloud once more, making him seem much less intimidating. “Lavender has so many healin’ and protective properties. Is it nae an oversight to nae be growin’ somethin’ so useful? I thought ye prided yerself on the herbs ye keep growin’ here.”

“It is the only herb that stubbornly refuses to survive in Anderson soil,” Hendry said with a shrug. His focus was solely on the fact that she was not inside. “I have tried before, but it willnae take.”

Aurora hummed, kneeling once more, ignoring the things he was not saying. This time, she deliberately scooped up a large handful of the soil and crumpled it in her palm. As it fell, she made a noise of realization.

“The soil is much too damp,” she said, glancing up at him. “The lavender doesnae like this much water.”

His gaze was intense, his eyebrow raising in interest. He did not prompt her to continue with words, but she knew that he was listening, considering what she had to say. She felt bolstered, as if she had finally found the purpose she had been searching for.

“Lavender loves clay,” she said, pushing herself upright once again. Her eyes swept over the land, finding a spot free of other plants. “There! We cannae put them directly into the ground, but if they are grown in clay pots, they willnae be as susceptible to the wet soil. Any excess water can easily be drained away.”