They rode through the gates, and people began to emerge from every corner and alcove; servants, guards, stable hands, and villagers alike.
Elsie realized what a sight they must make. Her hair loose and tangled. Her gown torn and muddy. His plaid hanging loosely around her shoulders. Both of them sharing a horse like a pair of bedraggled highway thieves. Rather ironic when she thought of the actual thieves he had saved her from.
Heat flooded her cheeks. “They’re all staring.”
“Aye,” Halvard said, far too calmly. “Because they ken their laird has returned wi’ a bride.”
She twisted to glare at him, but he was already swinging his huge body down from the saddle, reaching up to assist her with her own dismount.
“Play along, lass,” he murmured under his breath. “Unless ye fancy explainin’ th’ truth tae a dozen tongues that’ll wag it tae th’ envoy before dawn.”
Before she could wrap her mind around his words to offer an argument, his large hands gripped her waist and lifted her down as if she weighed no more than a feather. The gesture was meant to be gallant but standing as she was before a gathering crowd of his people, wind-blown and wrapped in his plaid, it felt far too intimate.
An older gentleman in MacLeod tartan stepped forward, his brows rising high upon his forehead. “Me laird, we’d nae expected ye so soon,” he said, his eyes flicking toward Elsie. “And it seems ye come home bearin’ news?”
Elsie tried to stand straighter, but her gown was torn down one sleeve and there was mud on the knees of her skirts. She looked nothing like a newlywed or a lady.
Halvard inclined his head, the picture of Highland composure. “Aye. We were set upon on th’ road back by bandits. They meant tae rob us, or worse. But we fought our way free.”
“Fought free? Th’ two of ye?” someone else repeated.
Halvard’s hand came to rest lightly on the small of Elsie’s back, possessive and steady. “Sten here was wi’ us as well. But me wife fought like a wildcat,” he said with a faint smile. “She’s nae one tae mess wi’ an’ I’ve th’ scars tae prove it.”
A murmur of laughter rolled through the crowd and Elsie turned her head just enough to whisper, “I’m going to kill you.”
“After the performance, lass,” he murmured back.
The older man, some sort of steward or advisor, Elsie thought, cleared his throat. “Yer wife, me laird?”
“Aye,” Halvard replied, his tone warm enough to convince anyone in the Highlands who dared question it. “Lady Elsie MacLeod. We wed quietly while I was away.”
Elsie gave a stiff smile and prayed her voice would not shake. “It all happened rather… suddenly.”
Another ripple of curiosity shot through the crowd. She heard someone whisper “She’s English,” as though being from England was some sort of mystical feat.
Halvard leaned into her. ‘They’ll expect a kiss,” he said low enough that only she could hear. Her heart began to race.
“They what?”
He was already turning her to face him. His eyes glinting with something a little too wicked perhaps for a man she had only just met.
“No,” she whispered, taking a small step back.
“Yes,” he murmured, stepping forward to close the gap she had created between them.
“Halvard…” she warned, daring to use his given name.
He caught her hand again before she could retreat. “Elsie,” he growled. “Ye’ll ruin th’ illusion.”
“I’ll ruinyou,” she hissed, but it was too late.
He leaned down, slow enough for her to know what was coming. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her stomach fluttered, and she could not tell if it was panic or anticipation. In an amazingly graceless attempt to avoid his mouth, at the last possible moment she turned her head.
Instead of her lips, his mouth brushed her cheek, ever so gently. There was a faint lingering contact that sent a flood of warmth through her. She could smell the spice of him.
Those gathered in the courtyard erupted in a polite applause, as Elsie felt fire reach her cheeks. Halvard’s arms tightened around her, and for one fleeting moment she found she was grateful for the steadying force.
“Well,” Sten announced loudly stepping forward with a wide grin. “Looks like our laird has found himself a lovely bride indeed!”
