She was pale, a little too pale, with fingers stained green at the tips. A healer, then, or at least a woman who spent a lot of time with her fingers tangled in the undergrowth. Her hair, a startling red against the paleness of her skin, was pulled back from her face in an unflattering braid.
It struck him then that she hadn’t even bothered to dress up for the occasion. Skye, on the other hand, had chosen a sky-blue gown, a new one, and lookedremarkablypretty. It was clear that Evander had dressed his best. Creighton had…well, he hadn’t dressed up, exactly, or shaved, but he knew he looked good in a plain, loose linen shirt and ordinary kilt. He didn’tneedextra ornaments or primping.
What was more, she was staring at him now, her gaze intent and unapologetic.Rude, almost.
“What’s yer name, lass?” Creighton asked, since it seemed that Evander wasn’t going to bother to introduce them. “And how are ye related to Laird Bryden?”
“I’m nae,” she responded, her voice clear. “But me father was a great Bryden councilman, and I am the foremost healer in the Keep. I think ye will find me skills useful.”
“It’s nae yer skills that have brought ye here,” he responded sweetly.
She didn’t like that, flinching and glancing away, lips pressed together in displeasure.
Not a politician, then,he decided.A politician would have a smooth, pleasant expression on her face right about now. The sort of expression that Evander is wearin’ at this very moment. The same expression that Skye wears.
“Yer name?” he prompted. She flushed, the red spreading easily over her fair skin. The curse of all redheads. The blush climbed up beneath her mask, a flimsy strip of red cloth hastily tied around her eyes.
“Nora Lane,” she responded curtly, almost reluctantly.
She doesnae like me,Creighton thought, and fought back a smile at the thought.The next few months might be interestin’, then.
No, not interesting. Not really. There was no sense in forgetting the point of all this.
Peace.
Peace didn’t come easily. It required something large, a sacrifice. Bloodshed, perhaps, or at the very least some violence.
All he and Evander would have to do, however, was take a strange woman into their keeps for the duration of the betrothal, then presumably return her once it was over. He’d made sure not to mention anything about marriage. Nobody really expected these betrothals to end in a wedding, and that was fine. They were for show, nothing more.
Nora glanced at him again, her lips still pressed together. She didn’t even smile. Out of the corner of his eyes, Creighton saw Evander shuffle toward Skye, and they began to speak courteously.Skyewas be smiling, knowing the importance of making a good first impression.
Apparently, Nora didn’t care about that.
So what?He told himself, lifting his chin.I can make her smile if I want. I can make her do more thansmileif I want. Nae that I do.
He extended his hand with a smile, and she took it after a moment’s hesitation. His fingers closed around hers, and he pulled her arm forward, careful not to give too much of a tug, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
She hadn’t been expecting that. He could tell from her startled intake of breath. Her skin was rough and warm under his lips, and that was all he could tell before she whisked her hand back.
“There’s nay need for that, me Laird,” she muttered stonily.
“So sharp,” he responded, straightening up and leaning forward, pressing into her space and waiting for her to pull back. “Ye ken, I imagined Evander here would bring me a meek wee sheep. Instead, I getye.”
She pulled back, as he knew that she would. When she moved, a strange scent caught his nose. Rich and green, like the forest after rain, with undertones of lavender and mint. He hadn’t been expecting the scent. There was a headiness to it which almost made him stagger, and he blinked, sucking in a breath.
Had she noticed? He shot a quick look at her face, stony and closed up, and judged that he was safe.
Daenae push it.
He leaned back, out of her space, and she visibly relaxed.
“Well, Nora Lane,” he said at last. “Ye and yer tremendous healin’ talents will be comin’ back with me to Keep MacColl. What do ye think about that?”
She tightened her jaw, tilting up her chin. “I’ll do whatever needs to be done for the safety of me clan.”
“Then we have that in common. A great start, do ye nae think?”
He waited for her to smile, even if it was a polite smile. He didn’t get one.
