Chapter 11

11

H unter leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest as he listened to Calvin’s report on the latest patrols. Their discussion had been routine at first, but lately, odd reports kept trickling in, each one as strange as the last.

“I still dinnae like the pattern of these disturbances,” Calvin muttered, his expression dark. “It’s unsettlin’. It’s one thing for our men to find a few trampled bushes or the occasional footprint near the castle, but it’s happenin’ too often, and too close.”

Hunter sighed, drumming his fingers on the armrest, his mind a million miles away. “Ye think it’s more than just animals then?” he asked almost mechanically because he wasn’t convinced that these reports were significant.

It had always been Calvin who worried more—it was his job to do so.

Calvin gave a slight shrug, his gaze drifting to the fire crackling in the hearth. “Could be,” he replied. “But it’s hard to say. There’s been nothin’ definite, just… unusual incidents. Like the first one last week.”

Hunter nodded, recalling the report. “In the gardens, was it nae? Some scattered herbs, a few small tracks?”

“Aye,” Calvin confirmed. “At first, it seemed minor. One of the gardeners swore he saw somethin’ skulkin’ about, but when our men searched, all they found were broken branches and some tufts of fur. Looked like a wild animal to them.”

“Then there was the night watchman’s report from the eastern border,” Hunter added, a note of skepticism in his voice. “Said he saw somethin’ movin’ in the shadows. But by the time he got close, whatever it was had disappeared.”

Calvin scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Exactly. But there’s somethin’ else too. Just yesterday, one of the lads near the river reported seein’ movement at dusk. He followed it—thought he’d catch whoever it was. But he came back empty-handed, sayin’ he just found a few rabbit tracks.”

Hunter scoffed, a hint of annoyance creeping into his expression. “Rabbits. Tracks in the gardens, a few broken plants, shadows in the forest. For all we know, it’s just a wolf or two skulkin’ too close to the castle for their own good.”

“Could be,” Calvin relented, though his voice didn’t hold the same conviction. Hunter took note of his man-at-arms’ reaction as he continued. “Still, a wolf wouldnae normally come that close, even for food. They tend to steer clear of the castle grounds, ye ken?”

Hunter nodded, filing the thought away. He trusted Calvin’s instincts, and if the man was uneasy, then perhaps there was more to these disturbances than he wanted to believe. But without solid proof, it was hard to say.

“Keep the men alert, then. Add an extra patrol near the gardens if ye think it’ll help. Do what ye need to do.”

“Aye,” Calvin replied, tapping a finger on the map between them. “We’ll ken soon enough if it’s more than just animals.”

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the door. A guard entered, bowing slightly as he held out a letter that had been sealed with fine blue wax. “A message for ye, Me Laird,” he announced.

Hunter stood up and met him at the door, taking the letter with a sigh before glancing at Calvin. The guard closed the door behind him as Hunter cracked the seal and unfolded the letter. He scanned the contents, his eyes narrowing.

“It’s more congratulations,” he muttered, an edge of irritation to his voice. “The council, nay doubt. It’s nae signed, but this is their way of meddlin’.”

Calvin raised an eyebrow. “They dinnae often send messages directly to yer study.”

Hunter grunted, crumpling the letter in his fist. “Seems like they feel the need to remind me of me ‘new role’ as a married man yet again.” He tossed the letter in the waste bin, shaking his head. “As if I need a reminder that I’ve taken a wife and I have responsibilities.”

Calvin bent down and fished the letter from the bin, smoothing it out with a bemused look. “Cannae be too careful these days.”

Hunter gave him a skeptical look but said nothing as Calvin tucked the letter into his jacket, apparently intent on examining it further later. His man-at-arms had a knack for spotting things others overlooked—a quality Hunter valued, even if it occasionally tested his patience.

Leaning back, he tried to shake off the faint unease in his chest. He’d dealt with far more serious threats than a few scattered tracks and a letter from the council. But even so, Calvin’s words stuck with him.

If there is somethin’ more to these disturbances ? —

Just as Hunter was about to dismiss the thought altogether, Lily’s laughter drifted up to the window. He couldn’t help but smile, feeling a new warmth spread through his body—something that he could only attribute to Erica’s presence in the castle. He walked over to the window to observe their morning activity, only to be struck with an odd sense of disappointment.

“Did ye see where Lady MacKinnon went this mornin’, Calvin?” Hunter asked without turning away from the window.

“Nay, Me Laird. I will sort it out,” Calvin said quickly before leaving the study.

Hunter, unable to wait for an answer, followed his man-at-arms out of the study to go ask Lily himself.

“Where’s Erica?” he asked his niece moments later.

Lily looked up at him with a smile, her cheeks flushed from playing outside. “She went to the village with Kara,” she answered, her voice as cheerful as ever.

Hunter stiffened, his brow furrowing, instantly recalling the last time they were in a village and an arrow barely missed her. “The village? Alone?”

Lily nodded, seemingly oblivious to his growing concern. “With Kara. She wanted to get a few things, but it’s a secret!” She pressed a finger to her lips with a mischievous smile.

Hunter’s lips twitched with a faint smile at her playfulness, but a flicker of worry still crept into his eyes. “When did she leave?”

Lily seemed to find her uncle’s concern rather entertaining. “Dinnae look so tense, Uncle Hunter—” she started to say, but then her eyes darted over his shoulder.

Calvin.

“She’s been gone for an hour, Me Laird. Our men did follow her?—”

Without another word, Hunter strode toward the stables, aware of Calvin following him. He rode his stallion hard toward the village, his mind racing with thoughts of Erica getting hurt.

The village was bustling as usual, full of traders, villagers, and travelers who often passed through the market square. It didn’t take long for Hunter to spot his wife, though, and his jaw tightened at the sight. He quickly dismounted. Calvin rode to the opposite side of the square and dismounted as well.

Erica was moving through the stalls, delight lighting up her face as she perused the various wares, her maid trailing beside her. The sight of her like this, carefree and smiling, was a stark contrast to how she usually looked around her husband—usually reserved, with a wary look that sometimes turned into irritation.

“Would ye care for bits and bobs for the new Lady MacKinnon, Me Laird?” one of the vendors asked, holding up a long-chained necklace.

The jewel in it caught Hunter’s eye, but he quickly turned his focus back to where Erica was. “Nae today, Smythe. How’s yer wife fairin’?”

“Ach! Molly is well—she’s up at the shop. She’ll be thrilled to hear that ye asked after her. I’ll make sure she kens, Me Laird.”

“Please do. Ta, for now,” Hunter said before he adjusted his riding coat—a sign that he was leaving.

Smythe stepped back reverently, doffing his hat.

Erica’s skirts were easy to spot as Hunter made his way deeper into the market. He hung back, keeping his distance, but he remained close enough to watch her as she moved from stall to stall, her hands grazing items with childlike curiosity.

She laughed at something Kara said, a light, airy sound that carried over the din of the marketplace. Hunter felt a peculiar tightness in his chest as he watched her, his irritation fading as he took in the way she moved, her open and completely unguarded expression.

So, that’s what ye look like when ye’re happy. He was unable to tear his gaze away from her. And I’m the last man to bring it out of ye, am I nae?

He shifted his weight from foot to foot, his hands clenching at his sides as a rush of memories flooded him. The softness of her skin beneath his fingers, her flushed cheeks when he’d touched her, the feel of her pulse quickening under his hand.

“Do ye ken whether he’ll like it?” Hunter overheard her ask, and he realized just how close he had gotten to them in his dreamlike state.

Ach! Ye daft dolt!

He ducked behind a stall and swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

What could she possibly be buyin’ me?

She had a way of getting under his skin without even trying, of making him ache in a way he hadn’t expected. His gaze dropped to her lips, full and parted slightly as she laughed, and his mind betrayed him with an image of her under him, writhing in his sheets, her breath warm against his skin.

“That’s mighty fine, Me Lady,” he heard Kara say, and he peeked around the stall he was hiding behind. Unable to see past the maid, he leaned back, disappointed.

Hunter forced himself to look away, clenching his jaw.

This isnae why ye came here .

And yet he couldn’t shake the thought of what it would be like to see Erica like this, but alone—just the two of them, with no one else watching. He wasn’t a fool. He knew she didn’t trust him, that whatever connection simmered between them was as tenuous as a thread in a storm.

How can she still think of me after readin’ that note?

The note he wrote to her last night was burned into his memory, and his palms all of a sudden felt clammy.

She did read it… right?

He suddenly caught movement on the far side of the square.

Calvin’s dark eyes stalked the three of them, and Hunter nodded before putting distance between them.

Erica moved to another stall, waving toward something, and he frowned as he noticed the small pouch she pulled from her belt. She didn’t seem to notice the attention it was drawing, nor did she seem aware of the two men who had begun following her from a distance, their eyes narrowing as they watched the pouch at her side.

Hunter repositioned himself in the square to just catch what the taller of the two men said. “Did ye see that?”

“I doubt she’ll miss any of it,” the other man said.

Hunter felt a surge of anger mixed with the lingering warmth from his previous thoughts.

Careless .

His steps quickened as he followed his wife. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to shield her from danger or shake her for being so na?ve. But one thing was clear—if those men tried anything, he’d make sure they regretted it.

As he shadowed them down a narrow street, the men drew closer to Erica, their gazes fixed intently on her. His heart thudded in his chest, an unexpected fierce protectiveness welling up inside him.

Erica stopped at a small stall selling ribbons and cloth, her face lighting up as she picked up a dark blue ribbon. She held it up to Kara, laughing as she tied it around her neck, pretending it was a necklace.

Hunter’s breath caught as he watched her. Her skin was practically glowing in the midday sun, her hair catching the light as she tilted her head. The blue was a perfect contrast to the pink hue in her cheeks, and he couldn’t help but imagine what it would look like wrapped around her wrist, or maybe in his hand, bound between them.

He shook his head, dismissing those thoughts. But the urge to step in and whisk her away niggled at him relentlessly. He craned his neck almost painfully at the thought of how she might feel beneath him, her skin warm and inviting, her lips parting under his.

“Now,” he heard one of the men hiss.

Just then, the taller man reached out, his hand aiming for her shoulder, and Hunter’s instincts kicked in. In a flash, he closed the gap between them. He saw Calvin swiftly stepping beside Erica, his footsteps as light as a cat’s.

Hunter placed a hand on her shoulder, and she whipped around to face him, her eyes wide with surprise.

“Hunter?” she gasped, her eyes searching his.

The two men halted, sizing him up. Hunter’s gaze slid over them, and he shot them a cold, calculating glare, widening his stance as he dared them to make a move. The men then spotted Calvin on Erica’s other side before they exchanged a look. After a tense moment, they turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

Erica exhaled, still staring up at her husband in surprise. “What… what are ye doin’ here?”

“Savin’ ye from yerself, apparently,” Hunter replied, his voice rough. “Do ye have any idea how reckless ye were?”

Her eyebrows knitted together, a flash of defiance in her eyes. “I was buyin’ supplies for a picnic with Lily. Hardly a dangerous endeavor, in me opinion.”

Hunter stepped closer, his hand still on her shoulder, his thumb grazing her collarbone almost unconsciously.

“Ye might see it that way, but others dinnae,” he said, his voice dropping. His fingers brushed against her skin, the softness of it sending a surge of heat through him that he barely managed to suppress. “And if those men had decided to take what they wanted… it wouldnae have ended well for ye—either of ye.” He glanced at Kara, who bowed her head.

Erica’s face softened slightly, her gaze flickering to the hand resting on her shoulder. The air between them felt charged, heavy with unspoken tension. “Ye… ye were concerned for me safety?”

“Concerned doesnae quite cover it, lass,” he admitted, his voice thick with fear he couldn’t hide. He glanced down at her, focusing on her lips, and he had to suppress the urge to lean in, to close the last inch between them. “Ye are me wife, Erica. Like it or nae, yer safety is me responsibility. Ye are Lady MacKinnon—ye need to start actin’ like it.”

Erica bristled, her eyes narrowing as she held his gaze. For a moment, the bustling sounds of the market faded, leaving only the two of them in that charged silence.

“Ye are sayin’ that I’m actin’ like a child, and I dinnae appreciate it.”

“I said nay such thing, Erica. Ye twist me words to feel better about yerself, and I willnae have it.”

“I dinnae!” she hissed, stepping away from him.

“Ye do, and ye would do well to take responsibility,” he said pointedly, refusing to back down.

The silence between them grew thick with fury. Hunter’s eyes fell to her lips once more, and he felt an invisible thread pulling him to her.

Stopping short, he released her shoulder reluctantly, the loss of contact like a cold shock. “Come,” he said, his voice softer now. “Let’s get ye back before ye cause any more trouble, wife.”

“After ye, husband.”

He paused, realizing that there was not as much malice in her voice as he had anticipated, and he felt himself relax as he turned around and led them back toward the castle.

As they made their way back through the village, he remained close, a silent protector, his mind racing with thoughts of their next conversation because this was far from over.