Her father leaned forward, squinting toward the masked figure with a flicker of curiosity. “A new bidder, eh?”
His tone carried no real challenge, only interest, the kind that came from a man who smelled more coin entering the game.
"A man with coin and interest," came the smooth reply. "Is that nae what this gatherin' requires?"
Gasps echoed through the hall. Liliane's stomach fluttered traitorously at the sound of his voice, so calm and assured while chaos erupted around him. She scolded herself harshly.
What is wrong with ye? The man is tryin' tae purchase ye like livestock, ye should feel naethin' but disgust.
Yet that flutter remained, stubborn and unwelcome.
Ross's voice rang out, sharper and clearly irritated now. "One hundred and fifteen marks."
But before the auctioneer could acknowledge the bid, the stranger spoke again, his tone never changing from that infuriating calm.
"One hundred thirty."
Gasps echoed through the hall. It was nearly double what any other girl had commanded, a sum that spoke of either desperate desire or calculated insult.
What daes he want from me that is worth such coin?
The auctioneer's voice seemed to come from very far away. "Dae I hear one hundred and thirty-five?"
Liliane’s knees threatened to buckle. The laird in the front row hesitated, his shoulders tensed, as if weighing how much she was truly worth to him. The stranger didn't even pause. "Two hundred."
The silence that followed was deafening. Liliane stared at him across the hall, this man who bid for her life with the casual air of someone purchasing livestock. His eyes never left her face, and she saw something there that made her blood turn to ice water.
Recognition. As if he knew exactly what he was doing, exactly what his purchase would accomplish.
Liliane glanced up at the stranger. His eyes were still on her, and even when their eyes met again, he didn't look away. Didn'tblink. Just continued that steady, unnerving stare while her pulse thundered and heat flooded her cheeks despite the chill in the air.
What is wrong with ye, lass? The man is here, at this vile spectacle, ready tae purchase a woman like chattel. Nay decent man would darken the doorway of such proceedings.
Two hundred pounds was beyond reason, beyond what even a political alliance could justify.
"Goin’ once," the auctioneer called.
Liliane's world narrowed to a pinpoint. Everything she had planned, everything she had hoped for, was slipping through her fingers like sand.
"Goin’ twice."
The stranger's lips curved into something that might have been a smile, but held no warmth whatsoever.
"Sold tae the laird at the back fer two hundred pounds!"
Applause thundered through the hall, but it sounded like the oar of an avalanche to Liliane's ears. She swayed on the platform, the room spinning around her as the reality struck home.
Two of the castle’s guards were on her arms again, guiding her toward the side door where she would meet her purchaser. Where the masks would come off and she would learn the identity of the man who had just bought her life.
Her legs moved without her conscious command, carrying her toward whatever fate awaited beyond those doors. Behind her, she could hear her father's voice rising above the crowd, but it seemed distant now, irrelevant.
The door loomed before her, and with it, the moment when she would finally see the face behind those piercing green eyes.
The face of the man who now owned her.
CHAPTER THREE
"Two hundred pounds?" Her father's masked figure sounded surprised, but it was mixed with cold calculation. "The man bids like he's got deeper motives than clan alliance. This changes the game fer us, Campbell. He might prove tae be exactly the ally we can use." His hands rose to the elaborate mask that had concealed his identity throughout the evening. As the silk and leather fell away, Roderick Munro's weathered features were revealed, his face flushed with barely controlled rage.
