“Don’t worry, I will keep you safe,” he told her. “But don’t underestimate us, Eliza. We can be quite fearsome when we want to be, and you—” He pointed to her hair—“have a way of getting under a man’s skin just by the way you look sometimes.”
“Forgive me,” she said, smiling. “I thought if I was quiet and obedient, you would like me better. You bought me, after all, but sadly, I am not one of those people who can keep quiet.” Then she studied him for a moment. “Are you sure it’s not because of the way I talk?” she asked, then she gave him a mischievous smile. “Should I learn to speak with a Scottish accent?”
Duncan threw his head back and laughed heartily. “Now that would be hilarious!” He took another sip of his wine. “Say ‘Lochwinnoch,’” he ordered.
Eliza frowned, then said, “Lockwinnock.”
This time, Duncan dissolved into such a fit of mirth that tears were running down his face.
“Maybe not,” he said at last, wiping his cheeks. “I would hate to hear you butcher any more Scottish words.”
Eliza had to admit that she was enjoying their banter, even though much of it was at her expense. Then her mood abruptlychanged as she suddenly remembered the moment when she had seen her father receiving a jingling pouch of coins from Duncan, and her face darkened with rage.
“Well, you own me now,” she reminded him. “You can forbid me from doing whatever you like.”
Duncan studied Eliza for a moment, as he realised how angry she was. In her place he might have felt the same, he reasoned, but there were two sides to every story, and he realised that he could not achieve a good relationship with her if he did not make one thing clear.
“You seem to forget that there were two sides to this exchange,” he pointed out. “A seller and a buyer. I am just as bad as your father, aye, but I will never own you inside, Eliza, and I will never treat you like a possession. I think you should reserve your anger for your father.”
“Oh, I will,” Eliza said bitterly. “He is the most worthless, evil person I know, and I look forward to telling him so one day. If I were a man, I would have done it with my fists!”
Duncan looked at Eliza’s face, now twisted with an expression of pain and rage, and felt infinitely sorry for her. She had suddenly been catapulted into a world she knew nothing about, living in a foreign country with people who disliked her immensely, and it was all because of him. Yet, he still needed her help.
“Can you tell me a bit about why I am here?” Eliza asked. “I am in the middle of this matter, yet I know nothing about it.”
Duncan was confounded suddenly. He knew that Eliza was right, and she did deserve to know the facts, but he trusted no one—especially not a woman he had only just met. To buy some time, he poured himself another glass of wine very slowly and took a sip, all the while deliberately keeping his eyes averted from her.
Eliza frowned, not quite understanding what was going on. “Why do you think there is a traitor here? Do you suspect anyone? If I am going to help you I need to know a lot more than I do now.”
Duncan sighed. “Eliza, I…” He trailed off, obviously unwilling to tell her anything at all.
Eliza was annoyed and disgusted that he would not trust her, especially after what they had gone through that afternoon. She had nearly died, for heaven’s sake! She opened her mouth to give him a piece of her mind when he raised his eyes to hers and once more Eliza found herself gazing into their fascinating amber depths.
She and Duncan were no more than a few feet away from each other across the table, and it would have taken very little effort for Eliza to lean across and kiss him. In fact, she had to restrain herself from doing so. Even though—or perhaps because—she was so angry with him, the sensations he aroused in her were hungry and passionate.
If she had but known it, Duncan was feeling exactly the same way, and now he found himself in an impossible situation. It would be so easy to succumb to Eliza’s charms, but if he did, he would lose all hope of fulfilling his mission. She was far too distracting, and he would be constantly putting her first and forgetting why she was there. She was not really his; their betrothal was a sham, and he had to constantly remind himself of that.
Just then, two servants came in bearing steaming dishes of food, which they placed on the sideboard behind them. The aroma of meat, vegetables, fruit, and spices made Eliza’s mouth water and reminded her that she had eaten nothing since her small meal on the road earlier that afternoon.
The food and the slight tensing of her shoulders at the sight of the foreign dishes gave Duncan an idea. “I have a suggestion,”he told her. “If you eat two items of food from the selection here, I will answer one of your questions. You will not have tasted any of them before because all of these are Scottish recipes.”
Eliza thought for a moment, and Duncan saw a spark lighting up her eyes. She knew what he was thinking, and she would never back down from a challenge. That, and her fiery spirit, were the reasons he had chosen her.
“Very well.”
She moved around the table and picked up a plate, then dished up something that resembled a huge grey sausage. It looked revolting, Eliza thought, but it smelled delicious.
After sniffing around some more of the selection, Eliza picked up a piece of fish; it was a strange pinkish colour, and it was that which intrigued her and made her carry it to the table.
She dived into the grey sausage first and was surprised to find, when she put it in her mouth, that it had a savoury, earthy yet meaty taste, and almost melted in her mouth.
“Mmm, this is wonderful,” she said appreciatively.
“I’m glad you like it.” Duncan smiled. “It’s called haggis.”
He decided to tell her what the ingredients were, hoping that her English sensibilities would be too tender to cope if he told her she was eating a sheep’s stomach.
“It is our national dish, made from oats, onions, and spices with sheeps’ offal enclosed in a sheep’s stomach.”
