She was scared to open it, so she didn’t. Instead, she held it to her heart and looked around the room. It was quite large and furnished as handsomely as his bedroom. An alcove was to her right, where a large chair and table had been placed in front of a small window. To her left was a chest of drawers with thick towels, a porcelain basin, and dark valet on top. Another chest was in front of her, but this one had two basins with a towel stand between them and a large framed mirror above. The door next to it, she supposed, led to a private toilet room.

An oriental rug covered most of the floor. She noticed the richness of its pattern and felt the expensive silk threads beneath her feet. The walls were constructed from large pale stones finished with dark trim. And tapestries hung from brass rods, covering the walls with their warmth. The room was magnificent.

Done being a coward, Gwen moved to the chair in the alcove. She pressed her face against a plaid that hung over the back. It was Greylen’s scent. She hugged it in front of her and carefully broke the seal to the parchment. Tears again. His writing was beautiful, the letters perfect. And she smiled at the ink smeared in spots from left to right. He was a lefty.

She began reading…wondering what he would tell her. How he would break her heart.

Again.

My dearest Gwendolyn,

’Tis with the deepest regret that I find myself leaving you. Never have I broken my word and that you are the one I have failed pains me as nothing before. Though I tried to wake you, ’twas no use. Hear my plea now, Gwendolyn. I will return to you, I will have you as mine for the rest of my days, if you will only still take me.

My heart is in your hands, Gwendolyn, where it shall remain forever.

Yours,

Greylen Allister MacGreggor

He wanted her. Greylen really wanted her.

But why?

If only she could remember what they’d said last night. She recalled some of it, but it didn’t make sense. More importantly he was gone. She had to go back to the inn.

With somewhat of a plan, Gwen decided to get dressed. She needed desperately to use the bathroom and struggled with the heavy door until it opened. Then she stood there shocked. It was an old-fashioned garderobe. How could a family with so much wealth not have indoor plumbing? She stared at the stone bench built into the wall. It had a wooden seat and she knew if she looked down, she’d see running water at the bottom.

In the end, it wasn’t as bad as she thought. But the crude toilet paper wasn’t even close to Charmin. She must’ve been on some powerful drugs to have missed that yesterday.

She walked to the mirror, relieved that her face showed barely any marks. Those that were left were only a shade or two darker than her natural skin color. She washed her hands in the basin filled with fresh water, careful of the cloth on her right hand. She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it away. She still had bruises from the seat belt, but they seemed to be fading.