The music slowed down, drawing them closer. His hand at her back did not move, but she felt the question in it.
“I will keep yer secret,” he continued. “I will tell nay one what I witnessed taenight. Nae the King, nae his men and nae the lairds who fancy themselves judges.”
Her heart thudded. “And in return?”
“If,” he said, carefully choosing each word, “I am commanded by the King tae take a wife and be forced intae a union… I will choose ye.”
The words struck with such force that she nearly missed the rest.
“Ye will come without protest,” he went on. “There will be nay scene and nay attempts at delay. It will be a white marriage. Ye will ask nay questions of me household, me past, or me rule. And ye willnae interfere with the governance of me clan.”
Margaret’s breath caught.
Marriage. Claimed…boundby royal writ and his choosing.
“And if I refuse?” she asked.
“Then I speak,” he said simply.
She searched his face through the mask, looking for cruelty. She found none. There was only resolve in his eyes.
“This is extortion.”
“This,” he replied, “is me offer. Take it or leave it.”
The dance ended. Applause rippled through the hall, a tide that carried them apart by inches, not enough to escape the moment. Margaret closed her eyes for half a breath.
I would dae anything fer her.
She opened them. “Very well.”
His brows lifted a fraction. “Ye agree.”
“I dae,” she said, sealing her fate.
Before she could speak again, a man approached, wearing a mask that was plain but well-made.
“Me laird,” he said quietly, but close enough that only they might hear. “The King has spoken.”
The stranger did not turn. “Go on.”
“Five lairds are commanded tae leave the Masquerade with a bride,” the man continued. “Their presence is requested in the council chamber. Yers included.”
The hall seemed to tilt.
The stranger looked at Margaret. “It appears that I am forced tae take a bride after all.”
Her pulse roared. “Ye cannae mean?—”
“I dae,” he cut her off. “And ye have already agreed.”
He offered his hand neither gently nor tenderly, but in a manner one might offer terms that could not be renegotiated. “Let us see how well ye keep yer promises, me lady.”
Then she placed her palm in his. And the Masquerade closed around them like a door.
CHAPTER THREE
The chamber they found themselves waiting in was narrow and high-ceilinged, meant for privy council rather than comfort. A single fire burned low in the hearth, throwing restless light against stone walls hung with faded royal tapestries. The air smelled of wax, smoke, and damp wool, but also of secrets spoken too close to power.
