The maids stood before her, a few of them leaning over to remark things to one another. Her stomach twisted as she felt like a little girl again, fearful of what the others might be saying about her, but she swiftly pushed it aside. She was the Lady of this place now, or at least, she soon would be. And the lady did not let the thoughts of the staff bother her. She tossed her hair over one shoulder and turned to Camron, not looking for an introduction, but rather, a place to lay her weary head.
“Where are my quarters?” she demanded. “And my maids?”
She could see that her demands set his teeth on edge, and she pressed her lips together to contain a smirk of satisfaction. If he thought she was being difficult now, well, then, he had much more to learn about her.
“This way,” he replied, and he gestured for her to enter the Keep ahead of him. The maids gathered parted to allow them through at once.
“This is yer home?” she asked as she peered around demonstratively. “It looks more like a prison to me.”
“Aye, this is my home,” he replied, his voice steady, though she could sense an edge of irritation beneath it.
With just a little more poking and prodding, she was sure she could get a little further under his skin.
“It’s no’ the kind of place I could imagine living in,” she replied breezily. “I think ye’ll need to call in some carpenters to make some new furniture. Perhaps a tapestry-maker or two. Brighten the place up, make it look a little less like a cell for the condemned.”
As she continued to remark on her surroundings, she watched his face carefully for a response, trying to parse what bothered him and what didn’t. He was clearly not entirely bothered by her arguments earlier about being taken as his wife, but this place was his home, his Keep, part of his kingdom, and he clearly held it in great regard. A small weakness that she could exploit to her benefit, perhaps…
As they made their way through the long stone corridors, she kept needling him, and he soon seemed to realize that she was not going to ease up and stopped responding. Much as she tried to coax a reaction out of him, he met her with a pointed quiet, at least until they reached the staircase that he told her would lead to her chambers.
“Take some rest,” he remarked, his voice dripping with annoyance. “And ye might find yersel’ in a better mood tomorrow.”
She let out a snort.
“I cannae see how I could,” she replied, tossing her hands in the air. “In thisterrible?—”
He took a step towards her then, lowering his voice, and she was suddenly aware of how alone they were in that instant. The first time they had been alone together since he had taken her as his betrothed, as a matter of fact. Her breath hitched in her throat as she thought back to what he had said to her earlier; being alone with her might allow him to make moves that he should have waited till after their nuptials for. Her cheeks darkened with a rush of blood.
“Ye have tonight to come to yer senses, lass,” he warned her, the edge of a growl in his voice. “For tomorrow, ye’ll be mine forever.”
He lingered for just a moment longer, and then, once he was sure he had made his point, he turned his back and stalked back down the corridor. She stared at him as he went, his words playing on her mind.
His?What would it mean for her to be his? She knew the answer to that well, but the thought of it was an undeniable mix of thrill and fury that she was not sure she could make sense of.
She leaned against the wall and planted her hand against her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath her hand. She was here now, she would have to find some way to cope with that. She remembered what she had promised herself in the carriage, that she was not going to submit to him as his wife quite so easily. He might threaten her like that, but she would be a hellion the likes of which this place had never seen before, and she would take great pleasure in every moment of it.
She was about to make her way up the stairs to her room to get some rest when she heard a voice calling for her. For a moment, she thought it was Camron, but instead, she found herself faced with another man entirely.
The man in question looked to be around Camron’s age, with a few creases around his eyes and similar dark hair. But, unlike Camron, he wore a broad smile on his face as he made his way towards her and greeted her with a warm nod.
“Ye must be the new Lady of the Keep,” he remarked, and she managed a smile.
“Not quite yet,” she replied. "But aye, I… I’m the one the Laird chose as his bride."
She tried to sound enthused about it, hoping her discomfort did not read too easily on her face. As much as she was unhappy to be here, she would rather not alienate the other people wholived in this place. She’d need as many allies as she could get, and, if the pleasant demeanor of this man was anything to go by, he’d make a fine one.
“I’m Archibald,” he introduced himself. “Archie fer ye, my lady. I’m Laird Camron’s cousin. He’s kind enough to give me lodgings here.”
“A pleasure to meet ye,” she replied, and his gaze drifted up and down her for a moment.
“The pleasure is all mine, my lady,” he remarked as he bowed before her.
Her toes curled in her shoes. She was used to being treated with such reverence, and, as much as she hated to admit it, there was a part of her that rather liked the attention.
“On yer way to yer chambers, I assume?” he asked, nodding up the stairs.
“Aye, I had a long journey from the McFadden Keep.”
“Allow me to walk ye there,” he remarked as he offered her his arm.
