by Eliza Knight
“What happened?” Her mother stood and approached her, squinting her eyes as she studied Blair’s face. “Your hair has come loose…and your face… You look different.”
Blair touched her locks, feeling the softness and wondering if Laird Rose had noticed how silky her hair was—and wondering what had happened to her hair ribbon. Was it still curled in his fist? On the floor in the alcove outside her brother’s study, where someone would find it and report that she’d been there?
“It got caught.” Her throat was so tight she’d nearly burped the words out in an effort to make them come.
“Caught?”
“On something. A torch post, maybe?” She was a bad liar. Years of telling only the truth, and condemning storytellers, left her without the skill needed to give her mother a good fib.
Lady Arbella didn’t naysay her, though her expression suggested she wanted to. “What is going on with you, my dear? You have me worried. You’re not acting like yourself.”
Blair thought back to those private moments in the alcove, how Laird Rose had thought her spirited behavior suited her, and how her family thought the opposite. And that was because for most of her life, she’d worked to fit a mold that was so unlike her sisters. She wanted to be a living saint, and now she’d had a taste of what it meant to be wild and…she liked it.
With that realization, she promptly burst into tears, covering her face with her hands and falling against her mother, who wrapped her arms around her and cooed soothing words.
“Did someone hurt you, my darling?”
“Nay,” Blair wailed. “Only myself.”
Lady Arbella stroked soothingly down Blair’s back, standing there solidly as long as it took for Blair to cry out all her sorrows.
When she was finally spent, she pulled back and met her mother’s gaze. “Mama, I dinna know who I am anymore. I am not me, and yet I am.”
“What do you mean?” Her mother stroked her hair away from her face and searched her eyes.
“I have spent so many years perfecting what I thought a lady should be, who I should be, and now there is this part of me that wants to be free.”
“Freed from the chains.” Her mother’s words caused Blair to stiffen.
“Aye. How did ye know?”
“Liam shared the contents of the missive with me before supper. I did not have the time yet to ask you about it. ’Tis why I am here now.”
“Oh.” Blair shook her head. “I am so stupid.”
“Nay, my darling, you’re not.” There was no hint of derision in her mother’s voice, only concern and love.
“It was a game, but the playing of it was…”
“Fun?”
“Aye. But, Mama, ye dinna understand. I burned that missive. I never sent it. I dinna know how Laird Rose got it. The only thing I can come up with is that one of my cousins switched out the missive, that she stole it and sent it herself.”
“Why would she do such a thing? Come now, there must be another reason.”
Blair shook her head, miserable. “’Tis all my fault. I told her my dreams of a husband. She must have thought she was helping.”
Her mother pressed her lips to Blair’s forehead. “Mayhap that is what happened. There is nothing we can do about it now but face the consequences, which seem to have been set aside. Do not worry over it, my darling. Your da and Liam will handle it, and Laird Rose will be on his way.”
Aye, he’d be on his way, and the very idea of that set her mind to reeling with regret. She didn’t want him to leave. In fact, every part of her was yearning to run outside, to find him in his camp, and tell him that he was right, that he knew her better than she knew herself, and that she wanted him to kiss her again, every day, for the rest of their lives.
Blair let out a shuddering breath.
“Do not worry, my dear. All is well. You’ll not be punished for your dreams. Every lady has them. I did, too.”
Her mother’s words mollified her slightly, but they did nothing for the need she felt to bring Laird Rose back into that alcove. “And did your dreams come true?”
Her mother laughed. “In a manner of speaking. I always wanted to be with a gallant knight, and when I was headed to Scotland and stolen away by a wild Highlander, I thought my life was over. Instead, my gallant knight came to me in another way.” She took Blair’s hands in her own and squeezed. “You see, my darling, the things we really want—sometimes they come to us disguised as something else. So you must ask yourself what you really want.”
Blair drew in a deep breath. “I dinna know.”
“That’s all right,” her mother said. “Sometimes we do not know what we want until it’s right in front of us.”
Or until he’s kissing ye…
Lady Arbella Sutherland had been married to the love of her life for nearing thirty blessed years. In all that time, she’d known pleasure, pain and true joy, along with a few moments of sorrow. She’d kissed the scraped knees of each of her beloved children and held them close as they grew older and bloodied limbs became broken hearts.
She knew each of her children well. Could read them, and most of the time, she could decipher what they might do next in a situation—something that had helped her greatly when they were growing up and getting into mischief.
Of all her children, however, she had the hardest time figuring out Blair. She had suspected it was because Blair couldn’t figure herself out, either.
Blaire was the youngest of five, and her older siblings were very set in their ways and secure in who they were and very much in the spotlight. This had probably given one who may be just a little confused about their place in the world even more to worry over.
Arbella’s thoughts about Blair seemed to be confirmed now. Poor lass was confused and had gotten herself into quite a predicament. But Arbella had no doubt she’d be able to pull herself out of it. Blair was quite intelligent. Perhaps more so than any of her siblings. It was how she’d been able to embody so many different parts of herself.
Arbella suspected her daughter had been embracing as of late a side of herself she didn’t often express. The part that was more like Greer, her sister who caused mischief. Arbella would have to think of a few ways to subtly help her daughter fully out of her shell.
She closed the door to her borrowed bedchamber to find her husband leaning one arm against the mantle and a hand on his slim hip. Even after thirty years, the sight of him still sparked excitement within her. He was just as handsome as the day he’d ridden across the battlefield to scoop her up, even if his hair was peppered with silver and a few wrinkles lined his eyes and mouth.
“I must beg your forgiveness,” he said. “I may have done something ye will not approve of.”
Arbella’s heart flipped. There had only been a few times in their marriage when he’d said words like those, and every time, he was right: she did not approve.
“Tell me.” She didn’t take another step into the room, needing to root her feet against the floorboards, to lock her knees in place and keep herself upright.
“I suggested, rather strongly, that Laird Edan Rose marry our daughter.”
Arbella’s stomach tightened, and the color drained from her face. “Magnus—”
“I know, it was foolish, and I never should have done so without speaking with ye first. Without speaking to Blair first. I gave her older sisters choices when it came to marriage, and when the opportunity arose, I went with it.”
Arbella pressed her lips together firmly, afraid that whatever she might say would start a war between them. To say she was angry would be an understatement. “How could you do that? We do not even know this man.”
“I know him. He’s a loyal vassal to the Bruce. A damned good fighter. Saved the Bruce’s life; that’s how he got the scar on his face. I’d trust him with my life. But it doesna matter, as he refused.”
Despite the glowing accolades, she was still irritated. They’d promised to talk with each other about each match made for
their children before attempting to make the match, and with Blair being the last to wed, she especially wanted to be a part of it. “It does matter.”
“He has refused.”
“What if he changes his mind?”
“Then we shall deal with it at the time.”
“What if he is cruel to her?”
“He wouldna be. I’d not give her to a cruel man.”
“But what if he was?”
“I’d kill him.”
“But how would you know? What if he got to the deed of killing first?” Arbella shook her head, pressed her fingers to her temples and tried to quell the hysteria that was quickly growing. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t question your judgment, nor should I revert to believing every Highlander is violent. My old maid Glenda still gets into my head sometimes.”
Magnus sighed. “Nay, ’tis my fault. It was foolish; I know that. I’d not have let him take her if Blair declined. But the fact that he refused shows me he is a good man.”
He did have a point, but she wasn’t going to give him credit for it.
“You’re lucky, Magnus Sutherland, because if he had and decided to make war over your taking back the offer, I’d have taken a sword to you myself.”
“And I’d have knelt down afore ye and let ye do the deed.”
All the fight went out of her as he approached and tugged her into his strong arms. “What is she doing?” he whispered. “I’d take Greer’s spearing Roderick MacCulloch over inciting war for her brother as Blair has done.”
“She says she burned the missive, Husband, that Aurora must have played a dirty trick on her and switched the parchment. She had no idea this was coming.”
“Aurora,” Magnus groaned. “Blane’s daughters will be the death of us all.”
Arbella shook her head. “My sister certainly has her hands full…” What on earth were Aliah and Blane going to do about their wayward daughters? That was a problem that would need solving another day. “We must remember, there was no war, and we must be grateful for that. It would appear that this Edan Rose is a bit more thoughtful and focused than some men might have been.”
“Aye. The king praised him greatly when I was at Stirling, saying he’d done well in battle, had led his men to victory, and that not having him at camp would be a loss now that he’d gone home to take on the duties as laird since his brother’s passing.”
“What do you make of him accusing Liam of being behind it?”
Magnus shook his head. “I havena even had the time to contemplate it. I’ve been so engrossed in our daughter’s confusing behavior.”
“She wants things that conflict with one another.”
“What do ye mean?”
“She wants to be set free, to marry, to run a household, to be in charge of something. Yet at the same time, she wants the protection of being the bairn in the family, the stoic one who never does any wrong and is coddled because of it.”
“What do we do?”
“I think you were onto something saying she should wed. Perhaps it is time we let her grow up.”
Magnus tucked Arbella against his chest and pressed his lips to her forehead. “It was so much easier with Greer and Bella. They had a clear path, even if they were both obstinate about it. Blair has somehow remained elusive.”
“Aye. I canna believe she’s going to be twenty-one in one month’s time.” Arbella wrapped her arms around her husband’s middle. “I told her tonight she needed to ask herself what she wanted.”
“What did she say?”
“She doesna know. But…I think she does.”
“How so?”
“When I was waiting for her, she burst through the door, face flushed and clearly frustrated. She looked like…”
“Like what?”
Arbella shook her head, certain that if she told her husband what she thought, he’d round up every lad within one hundred miles and stick them in the stocks.
“Arbella?” Magnus drawled out, raising a brow she knew to mean he would drag it out of her, no matter how hard she tried to hold it in.
“Her lips… They were swollen, red, like she’d been thoroughly kissed.”
Magnus stiffened, thunder rolling over his face. “What the devil?”
“Aye. I think perhaps that is why she’s been acting so strange. Maybe she has already found someone.”
“I will kill him for not stepping forward and asking permission before putting his mangy paws on my daughter.”
Arbella laughed softly. “Oh, Husband, I’m fairly certain our Blair’d not let anything mangy or paw-like touch her.”
“She has a pet lamb.”
“True enough,” Arbella conceded. “Still, I believe she must have some standards.”
“I will take your word for it, and we’ll get to the bottom of whoever it is that’s been kissing our daughter in secret.”
Chapter 10
Edan stalked past the clansmen piling wood high for their bonfires beneath makeshift tents being used to ward off uncooperative weather. Outside the castle walls, more tents had been erected for him and his men to be housed overnight. Rain spit down on them, soaking their hair and dripping from their noses, but the people wouldn’t be stopped from celebrating the arrival of spring, storm be damned.
He shook the rain from his dripping hair, feeling quite damned himself.
His lips were still hot from the feel of Blair’s lush mouth on his. He’d had no intention of kissing her when he’d caught her spicy scent in the corridor and heard her soft intake of breath from the alcove. Wee spying chit.
When he’d told Magnus Sutherland he had no intention of wedding his daughter, he’d been speaking the truth. And yet the moment he’d caught sight of her large blue eyes staring up at him, felt the softness of her locks entwined in his fingers, the sensual curl of her lips, the way she’d boldly stared instead of running, he’d been lost.
There was something mysterious about Blair that drew him to her. A part of her that seemed caged and begging to be let out. A lass in good need of kissing.
And ballocks, had he given her that kiss. If she’d not been a maiden, the daughter of a powerful earl who’d just offered her to him in marriage, Edan wouldn’t have stopped at kissing. Nay, he would have tucked them even deeper into the alcove, stroked his hands up and down the length of her curves, slipped his fingers beneath her skirts and caressed her until they were both panting with carnal need. He would have brought her to the height of pleasure again and again.
Even now, his blood still pounded with lust, and he found walking unbearable, given the tightness in his groin. He gritted his teeth against the need. How had one silly chit been able to do this to him? Bloody hell, but he’d wanted to bury himself deep inside her from the moment he’d seen her whisk into the great hall, her cool gaze settling on his. To press her against the stones, wrap her long, luscious legs around his hips and drive deep into her silky cavern.
To possess her utterly. To slip through that mysterious exterior and find out what made her heart beat beneath. To make her heart beat for him and no other.
Every other lass he’d met in his life had been eager to please, eager to show off her talents, her beauty, her desires—that was, until his once-handsome face had been carved up by a Sassenach. But not Blair. She seemed to want to stick to the shadows. To watch him, study him. She was not afraid. If anything, she looked intrigued. Keenly interested. And damn if he didn’t like it.
He thought he’d nailed it when he’d told her he understood the meaning of her letter. To be freed from the chains that held her soul… Why the bloody hell did he feel like he could be the one to free her?
Why did he kiss her?
Blood and bones, he wanted to kiss her again.
He stomped his feet into the earth as he walked, as though he’d pound the ground into submission when he couldn’t seem to do the same with himself.
Idiot. He was a bloody idiot.
“My laird,” Raibert said, addressing him a
s Edan entered the center of camp. The men had erected their own canopy above a fire, where several sat around roasting a goose and drinking from a tankard. “Compliments of the laird.”
Edan nodded to his guard, knowing he would want a full report. He indicated for Raibert and the men to join him in his larger tent where they might be afforded more privacy. The rest of the men, who were busy with setting things up or resting, were gathered into the tent as well. With whiskies in hand, the men sipped while Edan explained his meeting with Magnus and Liam—leaving out the part about the marriage proposal.
“We’ve been forgiven for our intrusion and confirmed as allies, though that friendship is tenuous, and I suspect only granted because of our mutual respect for the king and service to His Majesty. They have invited us to join them for the celebrations this evening.”
The men nodded, grinning, happy to be able to celebrate and flirt with the lassies, drink whisky and feast, rather than be stuck on the road during a storm. Edan was glad he could give them something to make them happy. No one wanted to travel in the rain on a night they could be dancing and making merry.
“I trust we’ll not be called out by any of the Sutherland-Ross fathers,” Edan said, eyeing his men. “A wee bit of flirting is all well and good, but nothing that would have a lassie’s da coming at ye with a club.”
His men chuckled, rubbing elbows and reminiscing about the time one of the men had to run nearly five miles before he got away from a lassie’s da and was only allowed to return when it could be vouched that a mere kiss was all that had taken place.
“And what of Lady Blair?” Raibert asked the question all the men had been wanting to hear.
“Innocent of any wrongdoing. Just a misunderstanding.”
Raibert narrowed his eyes.