Page 66 of A Hellion for the Highland Hawk
“In fairness, I had no idea my former neighbor was a time-traveling witch,” Nancy said with a chuckle, surprised that she could find it in herself to laugh about the situation. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just… had a few shocks, that’s all. I’m better now.”
“Shocks?” Jane furrowed her brow.
Nancy nodded. “I’ll tell you all about it later.” She paused, looking up at Hunter. “We should get back to the party.”
“Aye, we should,” Dougal said coolly. “Ye put so much effort into arrangin’ it, love. Ye should get to enjoy some of it.”
Grimacing, Nancy couldn’t help but feel that was a slight dig at her. But how was she to know that Jane would come looking for her? If she’d known that, she’d have just gone to her room and stuck a note on the door saying that she didn’t want to be disturbed.
Then again, if she’d done that, she wouldn’t have experienced the delicious art of relinquishing control.
“I don’t care about the party,” Jane insisted with a smile. “I care that my fellow travelers are doing well.”
Dougal sighed. “Ye modern lasses are a pesky breed.”
“And you wouldn’t have us any other way,” Jane teased, leaning into him.
A faint smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he looked across at Hunter. “When are ye marryin’ yer modern lass again? I ought to give ye a list of warnings before ye commit.” He pressed a kiss to his wife’s hair. “Jane is still surprisin’ me, even now.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t commit if you’d known more about my strange ways before you married me?” Jane raised an eyebrow at him, amusement lacing her voice.
“I like the surprise,” Dougal replied, his tone sultry. “But Laird Lochlann could certainly use a list of yer odd words, to prevent misunderstandings.”
Jane laughed, the two of them gazing at one another, clearly sharing a private joke.
Smiling at the sweet scene, Nancy was about to remind the happy couple that there wasn’t going to be a wedding whenHunter got in ahead of her, declaring with firm confidence, “Our weddin’ will take place in a few weeks, on the 10thof June.”
“What?” Nancy sputtered, her eyes wide.
“It was me maither’s birthday,” Hunter replied, oblivious. “It would be a fine day for a weddin’.”
“No!” Nancy shook her head. “No, you… We… we can’t. No, choose another day! For God’s sake, why did you have to say that?”
As she stared at him, it was as if she could feel fate winking at her, laughing at the fact that she’d thought one moment of surrender could bring her lasting peace of mind.
It was like Jane had told her: fate wasn’t always kind and had a way of fixing things, making things happen as it liked.
His mother’s birthday. Of course it is.
She broke away from Hunter and hurried toward the hatch, climbing down the ladder too fast to care that it could break. Reaching the tower below, she didn’t stop, running off as if she could somehow run from what was already woven into destiny, quite literally.
Storming down a hallway that looked like the rest, disoriented and devastated that Hunter was the one who’d named his own death day, she wasn’t aware of footsteps echoing behind heruntil arms wrapped around her, pulling her to a halt, holding her tight against a familiar solid chest.
“What’s wrong, lass?” Hunter asked, his voice soft.
She shook her head and tried to fight her way out of his embrace, but he held fast, murmuring soothing sounds as he kissed her hair, her shoulder, the side of her neck, the apple of her cheek.
“Ye’re safe,” he said, over and over. “Lass, ye’re safe.”
At length, she stopped struggling and surrendered to the comfort of his embrace, twisting around in his arms so she could hug him in return.
Her arms looped around his neck as she stood on tiptoe, pressing herself against him as hard as she could, grounding herself in the solidity and security of him, even if he couldn’t do anything to prevent what destiny had decided for him.
It knew I’d start to care for you, Hunter. Fate knew.
She gripped him tighter, so she wouldn’t spiral into that sense of no control.
“Now, will ye tell me what’s wrong with the 10thof June?” he asked, a faint note of amusement in his voice. “I never kent someone could have such a visceral reaction to a date.”
