Page 54 of In Bed with a Highland Brute

“Why nae?”

He loved her, did he nae? That is why he cannae talk about her. It is too painful fer him. Now he has tae marry a woman he cannae love. In the name of the Lord, he must hate the hand that God has dealt him in life.

“Murdoch?” she whispered his name again, but he marched away, clearly determined not to speak to her anymore on this subject. “Murdoch!” She scrambled to stand, but the soreness in her ankle was too strong when she put all her weight on it, and she fell back down to the bench again.

“Ye dinnae respect my privacy, Eloise, that is all,” he shouted back to her. He abruptly returned, marching toward her and towering over her. “What dae ye nae understand about me nae wanting tae talk about it? Ye and I agreed early on we would nae pry into each other’s secrets.”

“What secrets do I have left from ye?” she reminded him, thinking of how she had told him about her father the night before. He shook his head and turned away, running his hands through his hair. She ached to see him turn from her so and this time, it had nothing to do with the soreness in her ankle.

“It’s nae fair. Ye decided alone tae tell me about it and I appreciate that, but I’d never make ye tell me anything ye so obviously dinnae want tae.” He walked off, not even glancing back at her.

She thought of trying to scramble after him again but knew it would do no good. She sat very still on the bench, her hands gripping to the seat beneath her as she watched him walk away. He turned at the end of the garden path and disappeared between more bushes. In her anger, she picked up the book beside her and gripped it hard, clinging onto it as if she was clinging onto him.

What is wrong with me? Why does his anger upset me so much?

She hung her head forward, breathing deeply as she tried to control herself. As jealous as she was about the idea of him marrying another, she knew he was right. It was not her place to pry into his private affairs. She had no true claim on his heart, only a pretend one for their marriage of convenience. It was nothing more than that.

I need tae apologize tae him.

Slowly, she stood from her place. She left the book behind on the bench and limped down the garden path, heading in the direction in which he had left. She ended up in a more isolated position than before, surrounded by yew trees and on a slim garden path that was bordered by white snowdrops. The trees were so high and thick that she couldn’t see the castle and was no longer certain if she was heading toward it or away from it.

“Murdoch?” she called through the trees, hoping to see some sign of him, but there was none. “Murdoch!” she shouted again, but still, no answer.

Fearing that he might have slipped down another path, one she hadn’t spotted at first, she turned on her heel and was about to head back the other way when she found two shadows looming in front of her. The two men were clothed in thick cloaks with heavy hoods pulled over their faces. One had a sword in his hand, the others’ hands were bare.

“Take her,” one said to the other.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Murdoch stopped pacing and leaned against one of the yew trees, planting his palm to the bark so strongly that it threatened to cut into his skin.

“What is wrong with me?” He lashed out at the tree, thumping it hard.

He couldn’t control himself. His anger now was at least directed at himself and not Eloise. He couldn’t make sense of why he had been so furious at her mentioning Lillie, nor why his reaction had been so cold. All he knew was that he’d been enjoying himself on that bench, and the last thing he’d wanted was to have Lillie’s memory dragged up between them.

“What? Nay. Nay!” Eloise shouted, somewhere in the thicket of the trees.

Murdoch’s head snapped around as he moved toward that sound.

She’s scared of something.

He started off walking, then he heard the rustle of leaves and a muffled voice, as if someone had tried to silence the shouts. Murdoch’s pace changed to a sprint. He followed the sounds and darted down the main pathway of the garden between the yew trees where he saw two men. They were tussling with something – no, someone –Eloise!

“Hey!” Murdoch barked and walked toward them. He had no sword on him and had to lash out with his bare hands.

One of the hooded figures turned toward him, bearing a sword, and Murdoch jumped out of the way of the first swipe. Grabbing a handful of dirt from the path, he threw it into the man’s hooded face. The hood fell back as the dirt went in his eyes. The man lowered the sword enough in his panic to give Murdoch the upper hand. He grabbed the assailant’s wrist and pushed down the weapon, then elbowed him sharply in the nose.

The man went down to the ground like a sack of potatoes as Murdoch took hold of the weapon and brandished it toward the second man.

Eloise was in his grasp, scrambling and kicking to be free, looking in considerable pain with her injured ankle.

“Let her go if ye wish tae keep yer life,” Murdoch warned, his voice deep.

The hooded figure showed no sign of releasing her.

Murdoch advanced forward, swiping out. Eloise was thrust into a nearby yew bush where she scrambled to stand straight.

Murdoch injured the assailant, cutting him across the arm and the back. He cried out in pain, but before Murdoch could do anymore, he felt a sharp ridge of metal as it was pushed into his shoulder.