Page 8 of In Bed with a Highland Brute

She’s here.

The horse stopped beside his own. The black steed even nudged his grey, wanting attention. His indifferent horse freely ignored the stallion, as the mare often did, refusing to entertain anyone else’s company.

We arenae unlike, that horse and me.

Murdoch flattened his lips together as he folded his arms and turned toward the cloaked woman. If this was to work, she’d have to fulfil her part of the deal well. Being late for their first meeting was not a good sign.

She slipped off the horse and strode toward him, shifting her cloak to the side as her leather-clad hand went for a small dagger at her hip. She was taking precautions, that was good, then Murdoch’s eyes zeroed in on that dagger.

Nay. It cannae be.

He’d seen that pathetic looking dirk before. He’d mocked it, only a few days ago at the Chattan Castle. Was it possible that another wore such a dagger?

“Show yer face,” he ordered. The depth of his voice startled the woman. She froze a few steps in front of him, her gloves reaching for the hood of her cloak. Raising the hood, she dropped it back, so that the sunlight fell on her dark red hair that curled madly in its perfectly neat updo at the back of her head. Errant curls framed her cheeks, contrasting the sharpness of those bright blue eyes. “Nay.” The word escaped him hurriedly. “I dinnae believe it.”

“Murdoch?” she spluttered.

“Eloise?”

CHAPTER THREE

“This has tae be some jest.” Murdoch jumped down off the rock and moved toward Eloise. She moved back a step, still holding onto that dagger, with such strength now that her knuckles turned white.

“Me jesting? Murdoch… ye are the man who has asked for an escort?” she asked.

“Well, thank ye for confirming why ye are here. Nae just riding through Clan Gordon then and stumbling upon me?” He folded his arms as he stopped in front of her.

Those cheeks blushed almost as crimson red as her hair.

“I didnae mean –” She broke off sharply, planting a hand over her lips and turning in a small circle. “Nay, nay, this cannae be happening.”

“Ye and I are in agreement there.” He grimaced. What a mess this was! He needed someone who could play the part connivingly of being his betrothed. How was the incredibly proper and polite Eloise, who was always so reserved, supposed to accomplish that? “Ye are an escort?”

“I…”

“Yer denial right now would be mad,” he reminded her, his eyes wide.

“Oh, in the name of the wee man!” It was the largest outburst he’d ever heard from her. He actually managed to smile as she released her grasp of the dirk and turned in another of those mad circles, rubbing her temple with her gloved fingers.

“Hurrah, the woman as still as stone can curse.”

“I’ll say something worse in a minute now I am in yer company, I’m sure.”

“Ah, ye wound me.” He shook his head and glanced over his shoulder at the castle. He didn’t have time for this, but he couldn’t leave now. He was baffled, angry.

Why am I angry?

“Eloise?” He stepped toward her, and she leapt back. “Why are ye doing this? God’s blood, what are ye thinking?”

“That is nae yer business.”

“Nae me business?” he repeated and gestured to their position. “In case ye havenae noticed, it is my business when I am the man who has supposedly hired ye. I wrote tae a girl by the name of Victoria.”

“Aye, she was busy. She sent me in her place.” Eloise explained in a rush, shaking her head as she turned back to face him. “Murdoch, ye cannae tell anyone ye saw me here today. Please, nae one can ken what I dae.” She stepped toward him, so close that Murdoch felt a tightening in his stomach.

Eloise had always had this distracting power of a fair face. He’d admired it many times, though it was usually easy to keep his distance. That changed now she was standing before him as a lass on a call.

“Ye’re an escort?”