An amused smile blossomed on his face, taking her breath away.“I’ve heard there’s nothin’ more stubborn than an Irish lass.”
That might be.But she was no Irish lass.“I’ve heard the same said o’ Scotsmen.”
“Then I suppose we’ll find out who’s the—”
There was a knock on the door.“M’lady, m’lord,” a maid called out, “I’m here to take ye to supper.”
Eve gasped and whispered, “Already?”They were hardly prepared to play husband and wife.
“Good, I’m starvin’,” Adam murmured.To the maid he said, “We’ll be right out.”
He grabbed the wet rag she’d used, rubbing it quickly over his face.
But Eve’s heart raced.“There’s no time to get our new story straight.”
He shrugged and gave his hands a quick scrub as well.“We’ll have to make one up as we go.”
That was easy for him to say.He seemed to thrive on living dangerously.Making last-minute decisions.Taking risks without batting an eye.
Eve preferred to think things out carefully.To plan.To pay attention to detail.To create a seamless character with a complete history and live in their skin for a while.
It wasn’t that she never had to improvise.Sometimes she had to rely on her wits to correct course if she got into trouble.
That worked when you were steering the steed on your own.When another person didn’t have to follow your lead and remember the route.But Adam had a mind of his own.He might well seize the reins and steer her in a direction she didn’t want to go.Like calling himself her husband when he was supposed to be her brother.
“M’lady,” Adam said, offering his arm.
Like that.Already he was doing it.Taking the lead.
With a sigh, she looped her arm through his, donned her most charming smile, and let him lead her to supper.
Eve was glad to be seated beside Pitcairn, with Adam on her other side.That way she could respond quickly to the laird’s questions without fretting Adam might blurt out something ridiculous.As Lady Aillenn, she’d enjoyed many suppers with noble strangers.She knew what questions were likely to be asked.And she had answers at the ready.
“So what brings ye to Scotland, m’lady?”Pitcairn asked, stabbing a large chunk of mutton from the pottage and shoving it between his teeth.
She opened her mouth to give her usual reply.She’d fled Ireland because her father had betrothed her to a withered old soldier.She would not return until she secured a husband of her own choosing.
And then she realized that her usual reply wasn’t going to work.Not with Adam portraying her husband.
In her instant of panic, Adam rushed in to fill in the story.
“We sought an audience with the king to discuss a possible match for Aillenn’s sister, Lady Blinne.”
Eve’s throat tightened.She was impressed.He’d remembered their sister’s name and that Eve had mentioned a meeting with the king.He’d even come up with a believable mission.But would Pitcairn believe it?
Indeed he did.In fact, his sudden interest in the idea gave his eyes a greedy shine.
“Is that so?”he asked, swallowing the bite of mutton.“But o’ course she couldn’t be as beautiful as Lady Aillenn?”
“No one is as beautiful as Lady Aillenn,” Adam said.
The ladies at the table sighed.
Eve knew he was only making flattering conversation.But something about the tone of his voice almost made her believe him.
“My husband is blinded by love,” she replied with modesty, placing a hand on his sleeve.“My sisters are far more beautiful than me.”
Pitcairn almost spit his wine.“Sisters?Ye have more than one?”The prospect of an alliance with a beautiful Irish bride chosen by the king was likely compelling.
