Page 12 of Highland Vows of Betrayal

My mother… She wanted something more for me. The idea that she could follow through with her wish was too tantalizing. She set the glass in its place, then moved to Eloise.

“It would be for a month only?”

“Yes, just a month.” Eloise nodded firmly. “Ye take my place at the castle, and I will return tae marry him. Though if ye are able to change his mind about the marriage in that time, I would hardly be against the idea.” Scarlett smiled at her sister’s enthusiasm. “Though I suppose I must do what our father asks of us in the end.”

The idea that Eloise felt the need to be obedient rankled her.

I will help her, in any way I can.

“’Tis a deal. I will be ye for a month and go tae meet Laird Chattan.” She offered her hand to Eloise to shake on the agreement but instead found her sister’s arms wrapped around her in a sudden embrace.

CHAPTER SIX

“Ye’ll be late tae meet her.” Ian somehow penetrated the mist that had descended on his brother.

He brushed his blond hair out of his eyes to make it easier to see as he drew back his arm and tossed the dirk through the air. It landed perfectly on the target board in the sports hall across from the castle. Noah smiled back at his brother, who stood in the doorway.

“I swear ye do this every day,” Ian muttered.

“I do. I need tae practice.” Noah threw a second dagger, which landed not far away from the first. He'd long known such abilities were the best way to stay safe in battle. He was an expert with a sword and a decent shot, but guns were unreliable. He'd seen more than one gun explode in the hand of a soldier, causing irreversible damage. Knives, on the other hand, had never failed him. He could throw a knife in battle and prevent an opponent from approaching him.

“She’s here,” Ian said. “Her carriage has just arrived. Do ye nae want tae meet her?”

“Aye, I do.” Noah was unsure if he meant it or not. Part of him was tempted to send her away and argue that marrying Eloise MacLaren was a foolish idea. Yet, another part of him was curious.

I have tae marry. The councilmen have said so. Do I nae want tae see who my bride will be?

“I need tae finish this,” he murmured as he pointed to the board. “Ye go and greet her first, Ian. I will join ye shortly.”

Turning as he collected more daggers, Noah caught sight of Ian’s expression as he left the room.

Ian is nae impressed with me. He thinks I shirk my duties.

He couldn't blame Ian for the thought. He was aware that he appeared stubborn and irritable, but he didn't care. Noah had witnessed firsthand the consequences of marriage. The one thing Ian had that he didn't was ignorance for the former, as the younger brother, hadn't witnessed much of what happened between their parents. Ian was not the one who found their murdered father's body.

He tried to forget about his deceased father as he tossed one of the daggers through the air, watching it slice into the wooden target. He remembered crying over the body, pleading with his father to awaken, to no avail.

“I need tae greet her,” Noah said eventually and set the remaining daggers aside. Even if he had no intention of entertaining Lady Eloise MacLaren as anything more than a wife in name only, he could at least be polite. Ian had described her as genteel; that sort of woman would expect politeness in return.

Leaving the daggers behind, Noah left the room and only paused when he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the window at the far end of the hall. The latticework marred his reflection a little, but he could see enough to discern his trews, waistcoat, and shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows. He considered turning down the sleeves to hide the tattoos across his forearms, then shook himself and carried on, pushing the sleeves up further still.

Let her see me as I really am. She’ll have tae put up with me for the rest of our lives, anyway.

He strode through the halls, past soldiers training in the largest corridors, and then to the entrance. A trail of maids scurried past him as he walked, and one in the back caught his eye. Ah, Marie.

She was stunning, with copper-colored eyes and long black hair that was frequently plaited. Those eyes drew his attention even now, as she smiled at him and hovered behind the other maids, clearly wanting to be alone with him. He remembered vividly the time he'd spent with her the day before.

She was one of his most devoted mistresses, seeing him at least once a week for the past few months, if not more. He'd tangled his hands in her long dark hair the day before, letting her pleasure him in return.

We both just want our pleasures free of entanglement.

“My laird,” she said, hastening to curtsy before looking up and down the corridor. He waited for the line of maids to disappear down a staircase before he stepped toward her.

“We are alone,” he whispered.

“Thank the lord.” Reaching up on her toes, she pressed her lips to his. The same thundering excitement unleashed within him as it always did. He pictured the positions he and Marie could try next. He didn’t much picture her face, but rather the melding of their bodies together.

This is my yield from relationships: pleasure and satisfaction, nothing more.