Page 9 of In Bed with a Highland Brute

“How many times are ye going tae repeat it in bafflement!?”

“I fear another fifty times isnae enough.” He shook his head. “I couldnae be more shocked if a kelpie leapt out of the loch behind us and greeted us both by shaking our hands with its hoof.”

She sighed dramatically and stepped back.

“Nay, nay. Oh, how I wish time could turn back.”

“It cannae.” He followed her as she retreated to the horses. “Where are ye going?”

“Away from ye.”

“What?” He hurried after her. He couldn’t let her go now, or he’d have to walk into that castle alone. Placing a hand to the saddle of her black steed, he stood before her, his superior height dominating over hers. She froze, the two of them so close that her eyes widened, and he could see that blue hue all the more. “I cannae believe this,” he muttered, staring at her. “After all yer high ways, how often ye lift that chin of yers and offer haughty looks–”

“So kind, Murdoch,” she said with a false smile. “I am nae haughty.”

“Ye think nae?” He wanted to laugh but couldn’t manage it at that moment. “After all yer pride, ye are nothing but an escort.”

“Murdoch! I should slap ye fer that.” She raised a hand, but he reached out fast and caught her wrist, holding it back from him.

“I’d like tae see ye try,” he whispered to her. They ended up tussling, with her falling into him. Her other hand went to his stomach to steady herself. She blushed a deeper shade of red than before and stepped back, wrenching her hand out of his.

“Dinnae insult me,” she said darkly, reaching for the saddle once more. “Ye ken nothing of me life.” Her voice broke in the middle. It was barely noticeable, but Murdoch had heard it. After all, he was so used to her performing everything perfectly, with that voice never shuddering for a single second, so that the barest hesitation was very noticeable indeed. “Wait…” She paused, not quite climbing into the saddle as she turned on her heel and faced Castle Gordon. “Clearly, I am nae the only one with secrets.”

Murdoch sighed and folded his arms, falling still and quiet. It was what he usually did. Somehow, Eloise had managed to make him talk more recently.

“This is yer home?” She gestured to the castle. “But the letter tae Victoria said ye needed a lass tae play yer betrothed.” Her eyes darted over his clothes.

Murdoch still wore his soldier’s garb, but on his chest was the Gordon clan brooch, along with a strip of the clan tartan across his shoulder. She pointed between them now, her head cocking to the side. The strength of that blue gaze as it appraised him tempted him to fidget, but he resisted.

She looks at me as nae other has looked at me.

“Ye are the Laird of Gordon’s son!?” she spluttered, stepping toward him again.

“Shh,” he pleaded with her. “Aye, I am.”

“Why did ye never say anything?”

“It was easier that way.”

“Easier?” She laughed at the idea, shaking her head. “Does Noah ken?”

“He does by now I expect. Ian would have told him.”

“What in the wee man’s name is going on?”

“Ah, two curses in as many minutes. Ye are changing before me eyes, Eloise.” He gestured to her, quite struck by how different she was. So flushed and with her voice high-pitched, she was no longer that perfect image of a lady, unmovable, proud and fine. She was real and human.

“As are ye before mine.” She held his gaze. “This is madness. Ye wished fer me tae be yer betrothed?”

“I needed a woman tae act the part, but this isnae going tae work.” He realized with a darkness settling on his mind. Eloise was too proper to pretend to be in love with him, and he couldn’t pretend to be in love with her. This was Avery’s and Scarlett’s sister. His friendship to Avery meant he couldn’t possibly even pretend to be Eloise’s lover, let alone be the man that paid her as an escort. “Ye should go home,” he said, keeping his voice level. “This willnae work.”

“I agree.” She moved past him and reached for the saddle once more.

He followed her back to the horse. She put her foot in the stirrup and easily pulled herself up, sweeping the skirt of her gown to the side as she did so. The dark blue silk drew Murdoch’s eyes downward, and he caught a flash of her bare milky skin. That leg was long, well sculpted, showing she was a fine rider indeed, experienced.

Ah, what is she doing tae me?

“Adjust yer skirt, Eloise.”