Page 10 of In Bed with a Highland Liar

The apology never came. Instead, Aaden only kept the grin on his face, raising his eyebrow in a silent challenge.

He expected the fist that came hurtling towards his face and he ducked just in time to avoid it, but the man who stood right behind him wasn’t so lucky, the fist meeting his jaw with a sickening crunch. It was so crowded in the room that the men stood close enough for several of them to be jostled, confusion rising among them as they tried to figure out what was happening. It was closely followed by fury as each of them took offence, all thinking someone else was at fault, and the entire great hall filled with punches and insults. In the chaos of the fight that rippled through the crowd, Aaden snatched the first opportunity to step out of the crowd, grabbing a bouquet of flowers that one of the men had dropped on his way.

Evander had taken no part in the fight, knowing better than to find himself in the middle of it. Instead, he stood by the door, mouth hanging open in disbelief as he took in the scene before his eyes, seemingly unable to believe how quickly the men had resorted to violence.

“Savages,” he said when Aaden came to stand next to him once more. “All o’ them, savages.”

Just as Aaden had suspected, he truly wasn’t a cruel man. If anything, he was probably eager to avoid any sort of fight.

Just as Aaden spun around towards the door, it opened to reveal three youngsters—two women and a man Aaden recognized as Cameron Baxter—and an older man, all of them halting by the entrance to stare at the suitors in the great hall in horror. The fight had only just begun and there was no telling when it would stop without intervention, but the older man, presumably the laird of the clan, leaned over to whisper hushed commands to Cameron, who called for the guards and spilled into the room along with them, trying to separate the men from each other.

“Ye’re in me home!” Laird Stewart yelled, following his men into the room without a glance at either Aaden or Evander, his features arranged in a scowl. “Control yourselves!”

The ruckus was defeating, each man shouting obscenities or moaning in pain as firsts met bone. Still, Aaden couldn’t hear any of it over the rush of blood to his head at the sight of the two women. They both had the same delicate features, the same dark hair, though the youngest’s flowed down her back in curls, their eyes slightly different shades of blue.

Aaden knew one of them already.

He cursed softly under his breath. Had he ruined his chances before the courting had even begun?

There was a moment when time seemed to stop. The two of them looked at each other, Aaden’s breath catching in his throat at the flash of hunger he saw in her gaze. It disappeared just as quickly as it had come, though, and was instead replaced by recognition, much to his chagrin. He had hoped that she wouldn’t remember him.

“Ye,” Lilith Stewart said, pointing an accusatory finger at Aaden. She looked as though she was about to claw his eyes out and Aaden let out an awkward, half-hearted chuckle as he took a step forward, parting his lips as if to say something—only nothing came to mind.

They had only met once but Aaden hadn’t stopped thinking about her ever since that night at the inn. She haunted his dreams, those piercing blue eyes staying with him even all this time later. He could never forget that face. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

Next to him, Evander shifted uncomfortably on his feet. “Ye ken each other?”

“Nay,” Aaden said before Lilith could confirm it. She didn’t claim otherwise, even though Aaden hadn’t been certain she would play along. “But I am very glad we ken each other now. Aaden MacEwan, me lady. Clan McDowell’s Chieftain.”

To say Lilith was unimpressed would be an understatement. Her expression didn’t change at all as Aaden introduced himself and bowed to her, and she didn’t even bother to offer a curtsy in return. She only looked at him and the flowers in his hands in disdain, one corner of her lips lifting in a mocking smirk.

“Are these nae the flowers that grow outside our castle walls?” she asked her sister. “Perhaps Mr. MacEwan thinks that is all I am worth? A few hastily picked flowers?” Her gaze sought out the rest of the men, some of them still fighting behind Aaden, others panting to catch their breath as they were separated by the guards. “An’ this? This is who we are meant tae entertain an’ welcome tae our home?”

Aaden didn’t miss the way the youngest, Freya jabbed her elbow right into her sister’s ribs. With a smile, she walked over to Evander, her cheeks heating as she approached, much to Aaden’s disbelief. How could Evander have such an effect on any woman, even one as young as Freya, he didn’t know.

At least she truly seemed to be taken by him. His cousin hadn’t lied about that. His job would be easy, while Aaden would somehow have to convince Lilith that he was a better man than the one she had met in that inn a year prior.

How will I dae that?

Perhaps Freya’s fascination with Evander would prove helpful to Aaden. If what Ruadh said was true, then Freya couldn’t wed if Lilith didn’t find a match first and Aaden was confident that out of all those men in there, he was the most reasonable option. Perhaps he could make an ally out of her. Perhaps he could convince her to help him.

Behind them, the shouting had lessened to a few angry jabs every now and then as the men calmed down and yet still tried to blame each other for their behavior. For a moment, Aaden looked at them over his shoulder, pleased with his work. Not only had he created a diversion, bringing everyone away from Lilith, but he had also managed to put himself above them by not participating in the fight. Surely, Laird Stewart had noticed that he and Evander were the only two who hadn’t started punching the moment spirits ran high.

When Aaden tore his gaze from them and looked back at Lilith, he found her frowning in concern. It was a look he hadn’t expected from her, but then again, he hardly knew the woman. It was unfair of him to make assumptions on what he had heard, though calling her Snow Lass had seemed rather accurate so far.

“I’ve heard tales o’ yer beauty, me lady, an’ I must say they’re nae true,” Aaden told Lilith with a smile. “Nae such tale could capture yer true beauty. Neither words nor paintings would be enough.”

Lilith gave him a cold glare, hands on her hips. Though she was several inches shorter than him, in that moment, it seemed to Aaden as if she was staring down at him.

“Empty flattery will get ye naewhere, Mr. MacEwan,” she said. “Dae ye truly think this is somethin’ I’ve never heard ‘afore?”

“Is it?” Aaden asked. “May I ask from whom? I’d very much like tae ken who me competition is.”

“There is nae competition.” Lilith sounded weary then, a sigh escaping her lips. “Everyone here thinks they will have tae fight over me like I am a prized pig. Look at them, already at each other’s throats.”

“I’m here, am I nae?” Aaden pointed out with a small shrug. “I’m nae fightin’.”

“Nay,” said Lilith. “Nay, yer nae fightin’. But somethin’ tells me that ye had a hand in this.”