Page 58 of It’s in his Highland Kiss

The tent was more spacious than anything Marion could have ever imagined. She had never spent a night in a tent before, and she had always assumed that it was simply a place to sleep, somewhere to stay safe from the elements and the cold, just long enough to rest.

Most tents may have been simple like that, but not the commander’s. His was large enough to accommodate a makeshift bed, as well as a table and two chairs, which—though flimsy and lightweight—were enough to provide some extra comfort. Marion didn’t fail to notice the furs that were draped over the bed. A part of her envied him, but she had spent so many nights travelling with Eiric that she didn’t mind sleeping on the cold, hard ground, the only thing keeping her warm being the remnants of a dying fire.

Eiric. I wonder how he is. I wonder if he knows.

He must have asked about her, Marion thought. He must have realised that she was not in the castle anymore, and someone must have told him the truth. What could he be thinking, she wondered? What could he be doing? She could only hope that he wouldn’t try to come after her, stubborn as he was. She knew that he needed to heal, and that it would take a long time for him to regain his strength.

She couldn’t keep thinking about Eiric though, no matter how much she wanted to. Commander Forbes demanded her constant attention, and Marion had no choice but to give it to him if she wanted to keep him placated and wrapped around her finger.

As it was, Commander Forbes was more than happy to share his plans with her. He was a talker, it seemed to Marion, and it was harder to get him to stop talking than it was to get him to start. All Marion needed to do was compliment him on his brawn or his brains, and off he would go, rambling about battle plans that Marion would have never known of otherwise.

When Marion turned around to face the man, she saw him holding two cups of wine. He was not only a talker, but also a drinker, and Marion had to pace herself every time she drank with him, as he would pour her cup after cup, and before she even knew it, she would be too drunk to remember anything that he had shared with her.

“Thank you,” Marion said, as she took the cup from Commander Forbes’ hand. She began to pace around the tent, sipping her wine slowly, feeling restless. The mere presence of the commander made her uncomfortable, even though she had thought that she would be used to it by then.

“Tell me, Marion,” the commandeer said, and every muscle in Marion’s body seized immediately, knowing that whatever he was going to say, it would be nothing good. “You spent plenty of time with those Scots, did you not?”

“I did,” Marion admitted. “A little more than six months, but you already know that.”

“Yes, you’re right,” the commander said. “Well, I suppose that you know them quite well, then. Perhaps they even considered you to be one of their own.”

Marion glanced at the commander, trying to school her expression into one of neutrality. It was uncharted territory, the one where she had just been pushed, and she didn’t know how to respond to the commander’s question.

What is he insinuating? Does he know something that he shouldn’t?

“I wouldn’t say that they ever considered me as one of their own,” she said. “I’m English. They could never consider me as one of their own.”

“Ah, but you’re not entirely English, are you?” the commander asked, and his words made Marion freeze on the spot.

“English enough to matter,” she said.

Her words seemed to do the trick. The commander hummed, giving her a small smile, one that Marion returned immediately. The last thing that she wanted was for him to think that she wasn’t enjoying his company, even when it was clear as day that he was interrogating her.

Why now? He could have asked me that a long time ago, before he started telling me about his plans.

The fact that he hadn’t could only mean one thing: he wasn’t suspecting her. If he were, he wouldn’t have revealed all his plans to her.

No, it was something much different than that, Marion thought. He had given her information that he wouldn’t normally share with anyone. Now it was Marion’s turn to do the same, she knew.

“I suppose I do know some things about them,” she said. “But as I told you, they didn’t say much to me. I may be part Scottish, but I was born and raised in England, and England is my home. They would never fully trust someone like me.”

“Of course not,” the commander said, but he didn’t sound so certain about it.

Marion watched him carefully, scanning his face for anything that would give away his thoughts, but his expression was blank, betraying nothing.

The two of them fell into an uncomfortable silence—or at least it was uncomfortable for Marion, who didn’t know what to do or say. She couldn’t help but feel as though she was walking straight into a trap, though she didn’t know what that trap could be.

She still had the upper hand, after all, even if everything that the commander had told her up until that point was a lie. The laird had given her explicit instructions on what to tell him, what lies to spin and what little, truthful details to give him to ensure that he didn’t know she was lying.

But the truth was that she had never done something so dangerous before. She had never been so close to the opponent, she had never infiltrated the enemy forces, and yet there she was, trying to convince the commander that she knew nothing about the people that she had grown to love and care for in the past months.

Her heart raced in her chest and her hands began to shake, so she shoved them in her pockets, ensuring that the commander wouldn’t notice. The last thing that she needed was for him to know that she was nervous.

“I am afraid I do not know what you’re asking me, John,” Marion said, thinking that it was better to take her chances rather than dance around the subject and risk saying something that she shouldn’t reveal to the commander. “Because there is something that you’re asking me, is there not?”

The commander huffed out a humourless laugh, before he approached Marion, feet dragging on the ground. “You’re a very smart young woman,” he told her, and though it seemed like a compliment, Marion could hear the slight contempt in his tone.

He didn’t want his women smart. He wanted them obedient.