“Now,” Duncan moved behind her and pointed to a small red circle on the wall. “There is your target. I know this is quite new to you, so don’t be disappointed if you miss the first dozen times,or even more. The more often you practise, the better you will become, and I am a testament to that, since I had to learn when I was a boy.”
He lifted Eliza’s arm, then held her hand in the throwing position and helped her aim. Her first shot went three feet wide of the target, but her subsequent attempts grew closer and closer until she was within inches of hitting it. However, after a while, Eliza’s arm began to ache with the unaccustomed exercise.
Duncan, seeing her discomfort, took the weapon from her hand, smiling. “A good first attempt,” he said warmly. “Now, I need you to learn something else. As you know, poison can be a deadly weapon, so you will need to learn to identify them.”
He unlocked a stout wooden chest, and when he opened the lid, Eliza saw rows of glass vials, gleaming like jewels in the lantern light. They were all lightly corked, and some were painted with red crosses.
“Those are poisonous,” Duncan told her. “The others are the antidotes. Many of the poisons smell sweet and flowery, but not all, so you must never take that for granted. Some are sour, so take no chances. If it smells or tastes strange, spit it out, even if you are sitting with guests. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”
Eliza nodded, trying to appear outwardly calm even though she was terrified inside. What kind of hell had she stepped into?
Duncan read the fear in Eliza’s face that she was desperately trying to hide, however. He pressed a small flask into her palm.
“Here is an antidote for most of the common poisons,” he told her. “It’s crucial that you keep this secret, Eliza. Tell no one you have this, and be very careful to take a tiny bite or sip of any food or drink you are given before you have the rest.”
“Why do you not keep this for yourself?” Eliza asked, frowning. “You are the head of the clan, after all.”
Duncan shook his head. “I promised to protect you, and I will,” he said softly. “You are my fake bride, after all,” he said with a cheeky smirk.
He looked down at her for a moment longer, and she saw his eyes darken before he lowered his mouth to hers. It was the sweetest, tenderest moment Eliza had ever experienced as Duncan’s lips caressed hers, then he parted her lips gently with his tongue to stroke hers.
Eliza gave herself up to the feel of Duncan’s hard body pressed against hers, sending strange, delightful sensations to her breasts and her core. She wanted more from him, although she was not quite sure what it was she desired.
At last, they drew apart, and he gazed down at her for a few seconds before looking away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “That should not have happened.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Eliza whispered, “I am not sorry in the least.”
10
Duncan had gone out hunting the next morning, both because the castle kitchens needed fresh meat, and because he needed a little time away from Eliza to sort out the confusion in his mind that had been caused by the kiss.
Why had he done it?
Because you wanted to, Duncan, you fool. And so did Eliza.
He remembered her last words before she turned and left him. She did not regret anything, and if he was honest with himself, neither did he. Eliza had awakened in him something that he had forgotten existed—a fierce protectiveness that he had not felt since his mother died.
She had died in the same scarlet fever epidemic that had taken Maisie’s family, and despite all her knowledge of medicines and herbs, she had been unable to save herself.
When she passed away, Duncan had wanted to die himself. In fact, he would have traded his life for hers without a second thought. He had been furiously angry that the only person in his life that he really loved had been taken away from him, since his father was only a distant second in his affections. Ever since the day Lady Margaret Sinclair died, there had been a hole in his life, and yet lately, he had felt much less empty.
Now he felt the same way he had when he sat beside his mother’s bedside, but why? Eliza was only a means to an end, was she not? And yet, that kiss…
Damn it! She inspired feelings in him that had lain dormant for years, and had come back with such force that they were overwhelming him.
She affected his body in a way that no woman had done for a long time, in a way that was hard for him to analyse. He wanted her body desperately, but there was something else. Could it be…
Love?
The notion stunned him so much that he became confused and unfocused, and he almost collided with a tree, then cursed roundly as he straightened his horse up again.
However, at that moment an old stag leaped into the path of his horse and he had to pivot his attention back to the matter at hand; he would worry about Eliza later.
Eliza had letters to write to her sisters, but for a long time, all she could think about was the kiss she had shared with Duncan. She had been kissed before by a handsome groom she had thought herself in love with, and the son of her father’s best friend, who had had a crush on her, but they had both been fumbling and clumsy. She had been thrilled by both, since at that time she knew no better.
However, kissing Duncan had been nothing like that; it had been the single sweetest and yet most thrilling experience of her life, and even the thought of it made her lips tingle. Eliza wanted to taste him again, but she wanted to go further and explore the mystery of what lay beyond kissing because it had never been explained to her before.
