By midday, the race between the two English ladies was already the talk of the castle. Harcourt’s expression remained smooth as stone as he and his daughter prepared with their small party for departure. Redfern however, looked unwell.
“Redfern, if ye need tae stay on fer a day or so yer always welcome,” Halvard offered as the envoy looked green.
“I seem to have taken a touch ill,” the envoy replied. His tone calm but his gaze sharp. “I’ll take you up on your offer, Laird. Besides, there are matters of protocol I’d like clarified before I return to London.”
“’Tis a long journey south,” Halvard replied. “Stay as long as ye need and let me or me kin ken if ye need anything. We’re at yer service. I will call the healer tae check on ye.”
Harcourt approached, cold and polite. “Until we meet again, MacLeod. I trust your wife will find Highland life agreeable.”
His tone when mentioning Elsie left a pit in Halvard’s center. He met the Earl’s gaze evenly. “Ye dinnae need tae worry, Harcourt. She’ll find what she needs.”
“I’m sure she will.” Harcourt bowed before taking his leave.
The horses clattered down the causeway, the sound of the exiting party fading into the mist before Halvard felt comfortable turning back toward the keep. Beside him Elsie managed to silently creep up.
“He hates you,” she spoke quietly.
“Aye, I took somethin’ he thought was his, but it was mine rightfully, and all along,” he said with a humorless smile.
“This keep?” she asked.
“Among other things,” he replied. “And I’m afeared th’ Earl isnae done wi’ me yet.”
The game with Harcourt was far from over, and Halvard worried now with Elsie in the middle of it, the stakes had just become dangerously high.
CHAPTER NINE
The door to the laird’s chamber shut with a firmthunk, the echo bouncing off the stone walls like a single drumbeat before battle.
Elsie turned sharply to face her husband, her skirts still dusty from their ride. “We need to establish some rules,” she announced.
Halvard’s raised one brow, unbothered as she stripped off his riding gloves. “Rules?”
“Yes,” she said, planting her hands on her hips. “Boundaries, Expectations. Proper behavior for two people pretending to be married.”
He leaned one shoulder against the wall, amusement tugging at his mouth. “Proper behavior? From me?”
“Exactly,” she said, chin high. “You’ll knock before entering this room. You won’t call me wife as though you are daring me to faint. And you’ll…” she hesitated, color creeping up her neck, “stop looking at me like you are right now.”
“And how is that?”
“Like I’m some… some kind of puzzle that you mean to take apart and put back together with your eyes.”
Halvard’s mouth curved into the slow, dangerous smile that made her stomach flip. “A difficult rule, that one.”
Elsie folder her arms, in an attempt to appear exasperated, even though truly her heart began to race. “Then learn discipline,LairdSavage.”
“Careful,mo bhean,Ye’ll make me think ye enjoy our sparrin’.”
“What does that mean,mo bhean?You keep calling me that. It sounds beautiful, but I’m not at all sure what to make of it.”
He chuckled, low in his throat, causing that flipping sensation to reappear in her stomach. But before he could answer her, there was a light knock at the door. Muirin stepped in quietly, carrying a folded parchment and a tray with a steaming mug of something herbal that smelled faintly of mint.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, me lady. Ye asked fer writing parchment, aye?”
Elsie blinked, any irritation she felt at Halvard fading as she took the paper and the tea. “Yes, um, thank you, Muirin.”
The maid smiled, her soft eyes radiating kindness. “I figured ye might want tae send word home, after yer ordeal.”
