“The clan will stand for whatever I wish!” he growled. “If anyone wants to dispute this, I am quite willing to fight them over it with a sword or musket.”
Again, he looked around the assembly, his gaze challenging.
Eliza had been watching and listening with terror and trepidation, and now she actively feared for her life. There were at least thirty men in the room, more than enough to overcome Duncan, despite his bravado. What would he do if they tried to challenge him?
She stepped back, not quite sure what she was going to do. She only knew that she had to escape, but she had reckoned without Duncan, who reached back and grabbed her by the wrist.
A moment later, he pulled Eliza into his arms, but not in the tender way he had before. This time he pulled her close and kissed her; however, it was not a gentle kiss, but a punishing, brutal one that flattened her lips against her teeth and hurt her so that she moaned aloud in pain. Then, without thinking, she took his lower lip between her teeth and bit it, tasting his blood in her mouth.
At once, Duncan let her go, then wiped his bloody lip with his thumb, glaring at her. Eliza felt a wave of satisfaction sweep over her; he had embarrassed her, but she had had her revenge.
One of the oldest men in the room stood up and marched up to where Duncan stood, then cried, “Duncan Sinclair! Your father would be so angry with you. You should be marryingLady Drummond—a lady of pure Scottish heritage, not this—” He waved a hand at Eliza and raked her from head to foot with a scathing glance. “Sassenach! Shame on you!”
Duncan took a step towards the old man and glared down at him. He had one advantage over every man in the clan. His height and build made him truly fearsome, especially when he was angry, and at this moment he was absolutely livid with rage.
The elder stared at him fearfully, but to his credit he did not back down.
“I am the Laird of this clan,” Duncan growled, thumbing his chest to emphasise his point. “And I don’t take kindly to my authority being challenged. I have made my wishes clear. The contract with the Drummonds has not been signed. There will be no marriage between me and Lady Drummond. Now, this meeting is adjourned. Goodbye.”
The men filed out, muttering amongst themselves. Several of them cast venomous glances at Eliza over their shoulders, and she began to tremble with fear. She touched her lips, which still bore the imprint of Duncan’s on them. She had been frightened, yes, but there was something else; that kiss, though it had been painful and utterly embarrassing, had contained a strange perverse pleasure. It was like nothing she had ever felt before, and as she looked at Duncan’s rampantly masculine body, she realised that she wanted to feel it again—quite desperately.
Eliza was afraid of him, but not because she thought he would harm her; no, he had already proved that he would not, but because she found herself so attracted to his powerful maleness.
Duncan watched the last of the elders leaving the hall, then turned to her with a fierce frown, which gradually faded as he took in her expression of fear and apprehension.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Eliza shook her head. “I-I did not expect them to be quite so hostile,” she replied.
The frown came back, and for a second Eliza was frozen with fear, suddenly wondering what kind of man she had been bound to.
“Come,” he said, grabbing her wrist in a fierce grip.
4
Eliza tried to shake herself free of Duncan’s grip, but it was too strong, and eventually, she gave up.
“Can you please slow down?” she cried, as she stumbled along behind him. “I cannot keep up with you!”
Duncan looked around and did as he was asked, although he still looked furious, and Eliza allowed herself to be led along the passage at a pace she could manage.
They moved further and further down the corridor until they reached a stout wooden door, and Duncan pushed it open so hard that it banged against the wall and shuddered on its hinges.
He almost dragged Eliza inside, then let go of her hand and watched her rubbing her wrist, her face screwed up in pain. Duncan had not meant to hurt her, but his anger had got the better of him. He hated how it took control of him sometimes, and even now, it had not let go of him; he was still shaking with rage at Eliza for injuring him.
Eliza vaguely noticed that the room around her was lavishly decorated, but she was so furious with Duncan that everything around her was a blur. There were two women in the room, one with a brush, sweeping the floor, another with a duster, and both were staring at them, horror-stricken.
Duncan pointed to the door and growled, “Out, you two!”
The maids did not have to be told twice. They scurried from the room without looking back, and Duncan kicked the door shut behind them. Then he turned to Eliza and stared at her for a moment, taking deep breaths to calm himself down before he spoke.
His lip was still bleeding, and Eliza only just stopped herself from smiling with satisfaction because currently she hated him with every fibre of her being.
Duncan touched his lip and winced in pain as his fingers came in contact with the bloodied flesh. “You are very lucky we were not alone,” he growled. “Or I might have made you pay for that!”
“Oh yes?” Eliza laughed at him. “And what would you have done? Struck me? Well, we are alone now, so do your worst, big man!” She stood in front of him defiantly, chin up, hands on hips, dark eyes blazing with fury.
Duncan knew at that moment that he had painted himself into a corner. He was a man of honour who would never hit a woman, and Eliza knew it because he had told her so himself. Now she was taunting him, but he was determined not to take the bait. He was seething with anger, but he turned away, running his hands over his fiery red hair in frustration as he tried to cool down.
