Page 12 of The Laird’s Wrong Wife

She swallowed, watching him take a breath before he spoke again.

“But for now, I’m keepin’ ye.”

CHAPTER 4

Ceana pulled the hem of her gown from Ness’s mouth as the carriage hit another rut.

The goat braced her small hooves against the floor and held fast, apparently determined to carry part of the garment to MacKane Castle. Ceana tugged again and recovered the damp cloth with another row of loose threads along its edge.

Daphne is goin’ to kill me when she sees this.

“Yer sister must have chosen a tasty gown,” Tommy commented from the opposite bench. He gathered Ness against his side before she could lunge for the gown again. “She only eats things she likes.”

“Well, she will be delighted to learn that one of her finest gowns earned a goat’s approval.” Ceana smoothed the ruined fabric across her knees and tried not to wonder whether she would see her sister soon enough to tell her.

The rhythmic sound of horses’ hooves kept pace beside the carriage, and Oscar rode close enough that his low instructions to the driver carried through the wooden wall.

Ceana measured every question before asking Tommy anything about the road or MacKane Castle. Oscar had learned she was the wrong sister and taken her anyway. Giving him reason to suspect an escape plan would earn her another guard.

Tommy patted Ness’s head. “Daenae worry, I daenae think me faither attacks lassies. Only bad men.”

Ceana considered the reassurance. She had lied about her identity, interfered with Oscar’s plan, insulted him several times, and rejected every order that concerned her freedom.

“How does he decide who is bad?” she asked.

“He always kens,” Tommy spoke with complete faith. “Faither defeats enemies and protects everyone in our clan. He can fight three men at once.”

He rose from his seat and raised one arm as though holding a sword. Ness shifted while Tommy demonstrated a sweeping strike that nearly caught the curtain. The carriage wheel dropped into a hollow, throwing him sideways.

Ceana caught his shoulder before his head struck the wall. “Sit down, sweetness. Ye will hurt yerself if ye fight battles while the ground is movin’.”

Tommy looked toward the window as though considering whether an unseen enemy required one final blow. After a moment, he lowered himself onto the bench.

“Ye are right,” he said.

Ceana released him and settled back.

Outside, Oscar’s horse drew closer. His shadow passed across the curtain before he signaled the driver to slow down.

The carriage door opened while they were still rolling at a steady pace. Oscar handed his horse’s reins to one of the mounted guards, caught the frame, and pulled himself inside with practiced ease. His shoulders nearly filled the doorway, and his sword struck lightly against the bench as he turned.

Tommy and Ness occupied the opposite seat, leaving him no place except beside Ceana. He adjusted the sword so its hilt faced away from her, then sat close enough that his cloak brushed her gown. Ceana shifted toward the wall. The carriage swayed, and his knee touched hers before he braced one boot against the floor.

At such proximity, the dark wool of his coat showed the breadth of his shoulders and followed the firm shape of his forearms. His thighs filled the narrow space beneath his sword belt when he steadied himself, and she hated that she noticed it.

“So tell me. How did ye do it?” Oscar asked.

Ceana frowned. “Do what?”

“Tommy.” He glanced at his son. “How did he listen to ye?”

“I just asked him.”

Oscar waited. When Ceana offered nothing further, he leaned closer and lowered his voice. “That was all?”

“He understood that standin’ was dangerous. Askin’ him to sit required nay great strategy.”

Oscar studied Tommy as though the boy had performed an act beyond explanation. Ceana could see his bafflement in the slight furrow between his eyebrows, though she had no idea what had caused it.