Elsie sank into the bath, sighing as the heat wrapped around her sore limbs. The scent of lavender rose with the steam, soft and soothing. For the first time she had been abducted, she let herself feel the exhaustion pressing down on her.
Kind, gentle, Muirin.If every Scot were like her, perhaps this place wouldn’t feel quite so barbaric.
She let herself drift, not quite asleep, but not fully awake either. A sweet dream of green grass and running with Selene edgedaround her subconscious. It was as if she could feel the warmth of the sun over the Hertfordshire fields…
Then the door crashed open.
Elsie shot upright with a gasp, water spilling over the edge of the tub. Standing framed in the doorway, tall, broad, and entirely uninvited, was Laird Halvard MacLeod, looking all but completely terrifying.
Her scream barely left her lips before he crossed the room in two quick strides and clamped his hand over her mouth.
“Gods above, woman,” he hissed. “Will ye bring th’ whole castle tae see ye in yer nakedness?”
She made a furious, muffled sound, thrashing under his hold, the water slapping against the copper. His scent of leather, smoke and the sea filled the air, far too close.
“Quiet, lass,” he muttered lowering his voice. “There are men in the hall. If they hear ye, we’re both undone.”
Undone? I’m already undone, you brute!
She gave him a heated glare that could melt stone.
He released her slowly; hands raised in mock surrender as she took care to capture her lost breath.
“There. Peace?”
“Out!” she sputtered, yanking a linen towel over herself. “This is indecent.”
“I noticed,” he said with a glint of humor in his eyes, causing heat to flood her cheeks. He turned away from her. “But I cannae leave. Word gets out I’m nae welcome in me own rooms wi’ me new bride and Harcourt’ll tear me down before dawn.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“So ye keep tellin’ me.” He laughed quietly, deep and warm.
The sound would have been quite pleasing to her if she had not been determined to hate him so.
“Get dressed, lass.” He motioned to the simple gown Muirin had left for her with the linens. “Supper’s soon. And try nae tae look so much like ye want naethin’ more than tae throttle me. Highland wives are meant tae glow with devotion.”
She glanced daggers at him. An English gentlemen would never treat a lady in such a manner. He only smirked, leaning against the hearth with his arms crossed, a true barbarian at ease in his own domain.
Elsie pulled the towel tighter around herself and muttered, “You, sir, are the single most uncivilized man I have ever met.”
Halvard’s grin widened. “Aye, and ye’re the most troublesome woman I’ve ever saved.”
Elsie drew in a sharp breath. He was rude, but somehow the thought that he had saved other women turned something inside her cold. But be damned if she was going to think on that now!!
Dinner at Brochel Castle was nothing like the refined suppers of Hertfordshire.
The main difference for Elsie was the sound. Dinner in the great hall was loud. The room was filled with men who spoke in booming voices, laughed with ribald humor as if they meant to shake the rafters, and tore into food with the unselfconscious gusto of a pack of hungry wolves.
The scent of roasting meats filled the air, mixing with the peat smoke of the fire and the distant hum of Gaelic songs. It was actually quite merry, and had it been under any other circumstance Elsie would have found herself quite amused.
Instead, she sat stiffly beside Halvard at a long wooden table, her borrowed gown too loose at the shoulders and her borrowed husband entirely too relaxed. Or at least one would be prone to think, had she not noticed the steel cold resolve in his eyes. He was watching everything, his men, her, the room itself. Specifically, his eyes carried across the table to where the royal envoy, Thomas Redfern, who appeared composed andthoughtful, sat next to Earl Harcourt, all polished civility and watchful malice.
Thisis what madness looks like.
A question drifted down the table, someone asking how long she and Halvard had been married. Elsie froze mid-bite. They had not discussed the particulars of their ruse. It was foolish.
“Ah, not long,” she said brightly, having no choice but to break the silence that had fallen in expectation of a response. “Just… weeks, really.”
