Page 30 of Hunted By the Hard Highlander

Hendry was already standing in front of the fireplace when Aurora took her place. At first, she could not tell what he was doing, unmoving in front of the dying fire. He placed his strong hand upon the mantle a few seconds later, going still for a beat as though he were contemplating something. Then, he walked to the side of the stone structure closest to her.

She jerked back, her heartbeat so loud that she worried he might hear it from within the library. When there were no signs of her being caught, she crept forward once more. It seemed that he was focused on whatever task was in front of him, though his body blocked out most of her view.

At first she did not understand what she was seeing. He pushed at the wall, eliciting a noise that was reminiscent of stone grinding against stone. His hand lingered against the wall for a moment before disappearing behind it. And, though it should not be possible, when she heard the heavy stone moving back into place, she realized that Hendry had slipped into a secret passage.

It seems as if the Laird is hidin’ more than just herbs on Anderson land.

She waited a moment, letting him put a bit of distance between the two of them before she walked into the library. Even if she did not know where he disappeared to, it was meant to be hidden. He would not take kindly to being followed; that much she was sure of.

At first, she was not sure how the mechanism had worked. It was well hidden, no stones sticking out nor obvious switches. Though she guessed that if the switch was obvious, this place would not be hidden at all.

Even as she looked over the hearth, she did not understand how any of it could have slid out of the way. The entire thing seemed solid, and if she had not seen it moving with her own eyes, she would not have believed it to be possible.

“There,” she whispered, her voice hitching when her fingertips brushed against a lever tucked against the fireplace.

It felt much too easy to press the mechanism. Almost immediately, the stone shifted with a soft click accompanied by the deep sound of the stones moving. Flinching, she held her breath, waiting to see if Hendry had noticed that she had followed him.

She hesitated for a moment when no one came to stop her, her fingers twitching an inch away from the corner of the door. Then, before she could let herself overthink the action, she stepped inside and shut the passageway behind her. For a few moments, she stood in place, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness.

Slowly, she descended the dimly lit steps, taking great care to keep her footfalls as quiet as possible. The stairs were uneven, and she almost tripped on the third. Stones stuck up, making this part of the castle look as if it had not been maintained in a long time.

The passage itself seemed incredibly old, like it had been standing long before the current structure that served as Castle Anderson had been built. Reaching forward as she went further into the bowels of the building, she ran her fingertips along the Celtic knots that were carved into the walls.

For a moment, she stopped, admiring the craftsmanship of the sharp right angles, the arching circles that bound the knots together. It was a shield knot, symbolizing protection, if she was remembering correctly. This place, whatever it was, must have been used to keep the clan safe at some point.

I dinnae think places like this existed outside of tales.

When she realized that she had been standing in one place for too long, Aurora went faster, shuffling her feet along as quietly as she could. She could not hear Hendry’s retreating footsteps any longer. She hated to think that there may be forks in the path, that she could get lost in this place she should not know about.

For all she knew, she could get stuck and die here without anyone knowing where she went.

Neglecting to watch where she was stepping, her foot caught a loose stone. Instead of kicking it loose, her foot sank. Something beneath the floor clicked. Then, a beat later, a terrible grinding sound filled the chamber, much louder than the sound of the hidden door sliding open.

A… trap?

Aurora nearly tripped in her haste to get away, not knowing if it was better to go back the way she came or deeper into the twists and turns. Before she was forced to make the decision, an arm wrapped around her waist, and she was tucked securely against a solid chest.

Not even a second passed before a massive slab fell from the ceiling.

She did not even have the chance to scream. Her feet left the ground as they went down nearly half the remaining steps. The air left her lungs as she was pressed against the stone wall.

Hendry’s face appeared in front of her, angrier than she had ever seen him, breathing harder than she imagined possible. It was almost as if time stopped, like she was looking at a painting rather than Laird Anderson himself. It felt as if she had forgotten how to breathe.

“Why have ye followed me?” he demanded, and though Aurora flinched away from the words, she knew that he had every right to be upset. “What made ye think that sneakin’ around places that ye daenae ken would be a good idea?”

She opened her mouth, trying and failing to come up with an excuse for what she had done. It could not be justified. Her curiosity had led her here. Though she could never have imagined just how dangerous following him through the tunnel would be.

For the first time in her life, she was truly at a loss for words.

Hendry scoffed, the sound halfway to a laugh, torn in the center by the underlying fury that seemed to be swirling within him. He leaned in closer, his mouth next to Aurora’s ear as he said, “Ye were caught again… Ye arenae as smooth as a little thief should be.”

“I…” she tried. Her throat was too tight, her mouth too dry. “I thought…”

She could not finish her thought. It was hopeless. She was completely at his mercy.

With her heart still pounding and her mind still reeling, she could not think past the way all she could smell was pine and something uniquely him. Each place that he touched her seemed to burn with the memories from the cabin. It was inappropriate for the situation, the desire crossing with fear. She was overwhelmed, her head spinning.

If Hendry was not holding her upright, she was sure that her knees would have already given out.