He glanced back, grin crooked. “Ye daenae sound thrilled, me lady.”
“Are ye?” she countered.
He considered that for a heartbeat, then laughed. “I suppose nae.”
Her brows rose. “Honesty. That is unexpected.”
“Oh, I can be honest, when it suits me,” he said, coming nearer. “And since ye daenae swoon at me compliments, I think we may as well drop the act.”
“I was unaware we had agreed upon a play,” Ariella said dryly.
“Ye must ken how these things go,” Hunter went on, as if she had nae spoken. “Ye are the pretty sister of a laird with need of coin and protection. I am the younger brother of a laird who has both. Ye and I are names on a parchment, pretty ink flourishes, nothin’ more.”
Ariella answered with a lifted eyebrow at the thought of Hunter’s older brother.Maxwell Murdoch…The Brute of McNeill… That’s why maither said she did nae wish to frighten me…
Hunter shook himself, the brief seriousness gone. “In any case, ye need nae look so stricken, me lady. I am nae a monster. If we must wed, I will do me best nae to make yer life unbearable.”
Her mouth twitched despite herself. “Such generosity.”
He spread his hands. “It is the least I can offer.”
“Do ye nae wish to marry at all?” she asked, genuinely curious.
He considered the question. “I wish to live,” he said finally. “To see more than council chambers and ledgers and fields. To ride where I please, to drink too much, to lose coin at dice and win it back at cards, to kiss whoever I like and nae answer for it.”
“Ye wish to be free,” Ariella said.
Hunter studied her, his expression, for once, serious. “Aye, and I can see that ye ken me trouble already.”
For a moment, they understood one another. Two pieces in a game neither had chosen.
He leaned in then, expression turning mischievous again. “Tell me plain, me lady. Do ye wish to marry me, then?”
Ariella met his eyes, thought of the debt, the threats, her brother’s strained face. “If it keeps me clan safe, I will do me duty.Wishin’has got nothin’ to do with it.”
“That is nae what I asked,” he said softly.
She held his gaze. “Nay, I daenae wish to marry ye.”
His smile tilted. “Fair enough. For what it is worth, ye seem far too good for the likes of me.”
“That is nay comfort,” she said.
“Nay,” he agreed. He tapped a finger against his lower lip, as if considering. “If ye truly daenae wish to marry me, there are ways.”
Her heart gave a startled leap. “What do ye mean?”
His eyes glinted. “Oh, I daenae suggest ye refuse outright. Yer laird braither would never allow it. But brides have been kent to trip. To fall ill. To run away in the night. There are songs about it.”
“That is foolishness,” Ariella said sharply, though the image flashed before her eyes, bright and dangerous. The dark hills, the open road, the taste of freedom. “What of me braither,” she asked. “Me maither. What of them?”
Hunter’s smile faded for a heartbeat. “That is the rub, is it nae?Someonehas to pay for our freedom.”
He pushed away from the wall then, the moment of gravity gone. “In any case, I speak only in jest,” he said lightly. “Daenae look so alarmed, me lady. We shall stand before the priest like good little lambs, and our families will sigh in relief.”
He winked at her, his voice lowering only slightly, but conspiratorially, nonetheless. “Unless, of course, ye decide to do something about it.”
His words followed her long after he left the solar. Through supper, through her mother’s anxious fussing, through Frederick’s sturdy presence beside her, she heard them.
