by D. K. Combs
"Oh, yes. My brother and I had planned to go to the market today—"
"For?"
She blinked, her thick eyebrows turning downward. "Excuse me?" It was as though she was shocked that he was questioning her. He didn't care in the slightest. This was his home, and his pocket was paying for whatever she was planning on doing. He was sure the king's payment wouldn't cover the make-over she seemed to want for his estate.
"I asked what ye' were going to the market for. 'Tis not a hard concept to understand, woman."
Her cheeks flushed. "Excuse me, my lord, but I fail to see—"
"My castle. My pocket. My rules. If yer planning to get more maids and rushes, ye' better think otherwise." He took a swig of his ale and then slammed the empty chalice onto the wooden table. She jerked at the sound, then got to her feet as he did.
"I do not appreciate being spoken to as if I am a simpleton, my lord," she snapped. Now he knew why the king's dowry for this girl was so large—she didn't know her place.
"And I donna appreciate having my home upturned without my wishes. Where is your brother?" he asked, watching the drawn look come over her face.
"He was meant to be right behind me..." She turned her head as if expecting him to be there. A furious flush rose in her cheeks when she found he wasn't. But they both knew he wasn't, and honestly, Kane couldn't be angry at the lad for shirking his duties. If Kane had to listen to Annalise complain about the way he breathed air, he'd have been fine if someone stole her away.
He frowned down at the lass. Why would Saeran want to stay here if his sister was only going to berate him? His lips pressed.
"Aye, well, yer brother will be quite busy with me and—"
"No, no," she said quickly, sternly. "That simply won't do. He is my companion while I'm here. He should be by my side every second. Not yours."
"It was my understanding that he was to be a squire of mine. Do ye' happen to know the duties of a squire, my lady?" he asked mockingly. Her thin, red lips tightened until it was as if she had none. Kane was not often a superficial man, but it appeared to him that Blaine Sinclair was as ugly on the outside as she was on the inside.
He'd heard plenty about her, seen enough about her, and if Brodrick didn't like her? Well, he also knew enough about her from just that. He was glad he'd found out a plan to get out of the king's ridiculous contract. Even though he wouldn't be sending a woman to her death, he didn't want a thing to do with Blaine. His gut never lied, and Blaine Sinclair did not make an exception.
THT | 9
"My sister is probably very worried about me—"
"Do not try to get out of this," Connor said sharply, grabbing her by the arm when she would have run away. Fear slid down her throat like acid when her arm was taken away from her chest. The torn piece of her shirt fell to the side, revealing the binding once again. His face hardened.
"There is not a single thing I'm trying to get out of," she said tightly, wrapping the shirt tightly around her. Her face must have appeared so pale it resembled the snow that had yet to fall. "I must be off—" Saeran tried to pull herself out of his grip. Instead of letting her go, he threw open a door and pushed her inside.
"Why are you parading around as if you're a man?" he asked. "If the laird knew you were a woman—" He cut himself off and his eyes widened. "If he knew you were a woman, he would have to choose."
She swallowed thickly, staring at him. A cool draft was breezing through the unused room, making the skin on the back of her neck raise. Or mayhap it was the fact that he'd connected everything together so quickly. Or, mayhap it was the fact that she'd failed herself and her sister.
The person standing in front of her was the laird’s squire. Meaning that they talked every day, he was required to share all and any knowledge he had about the clan with his laird, and most likely, would share this with his laird as well.
Her throat became so tight it was impossible to breathe.
"Please," she said quietly, strangled. "Do not let him know of this. I have to stay with my sister."
He stared at her. For so long, nothing happened. She started to tremble.
"You are lying to a man who is ultimately going to protect you," he said, disbelieving.
"No," she said, shaking her head. "No, he won't have to protect me. I can take care of myself."
He snorted. "Yes, because you can protect yourself from a man who is smaller than yourself. What happened moments ago was a clear example of that."
"You caught me off guard!" she said, defensive. "A moment of weakness does not mean there are more to come."
Connor stared at her again. "You're lying to the second most powerful man in the Highlands, and about something that's...that's serious. Is your real name even Saeran? Does not that hurt your...your..." He gestured to the torn binding and, she assumed, her chest. She couldn’t make herself answer him.
Her face flamed. The rush of blood to her face made her dizzy after it had been so pale. This was a mess. Not even a fortnight after her arrival, someone knew—and someone who was nearly as dangerous to her safety as the laird himself was.
"Please—"
"Saeran—or whatever your name is. Do not ask me to lie to the laird about this. He might not seem like a barbarian to some, but he has the power to be the most ruthless being ever known. To lie to him...not only would I be punished, but so would you."
"I know I would be," she said quickly. Fear made her desperate—bolder than she'd ever been. To have her secret find out...Blaine would kill her before Grayham could get to her.
"Then why risk it?" he asked, astounded. "Being a woman is much easier than being a man."
"I—"
He held up a hand quickly, horror lighting his eyes. "You've been training as a squire, haven't you."
She nodded, not understanding what was so wrong about it.
"You've been training with swords and fists."
Again, she nodded. She'd been doing it for the past fortnight. It wasn't a big deal anymore, besides her reluctance to go through with every day and the new bruises she attained.
Her lips pressed. Blaine. This was all Blaine's fault.
Nay, she thought. Blaine is only trying to keep us together.
For some reason, the thought didn't feel as comforting as it used to. It only made her angry, as completely unjustified as it was. She wanted to be a lady. She wanted to be safe with a strong husband. She wanted to have her family. She wanted to have children. She wanted...everything that Blaine was going to get with marrying The Lion, as dangerous and threatening as he was.
He was a threat to her. Earlier, with the fire crackling and his eyes staring at her as if he were stripping her of all her secrets, he hadn't seemed like The Lion should have.
In the hall he had. His roaring and rudeness, the brute strength he had exuded...it had been terrifying in an enchanting way.
But in his study, he'd been a completely different man—and that had terrified her for reasons she couldn't explain.
"You could have been hurt!" he suddenly burst out. His face was washed in horror.
Saeran grimaced. He went completely pale.
"We have to tell the laird. A woman—a lady—should not be involved in sword play!" He whirled around. Panic climbed up her throat.
"No! No, you can't do that," she burst out, grabbing his arm. He tensed under her, but at least he stopped. "I can't be taken away. He can't choose me and he definitely can't know who I really am. Please, do not do this to me."
He slowly turned his head. "You are asking me to lie to him."
"I cannot be taken away from my sister."
"Why?"
She blinked. "Why?"
"Yes. Why can you not be taken from Blaine. I've just returned and already I've heard that she is not the kindest of people. Why would you want to stay here with her? Or are you a spy for the English?" he asked, narrowing his eyes on her.
"No! No—she's my sister! I'm here for her."
"But she is retc
hed!"
Saeran bit her lip. "She is worried about becoming the laird's wife. He's reputed to be a barbarian and—"
"'Reputed'", he echoed. He glared at her and she took a step back. Only seconds ago this boy had tried to accost her, thinking she was the same gender as he. Now, he was defaming her sister—in front of her! The situation was too odd for her to dwell on. All that mattered was getting him to stay quiet.
"You do not even know the man!" he said, clearly offended on behalf of his laird. "If you just told him, he'd understand."
"He wouldn't" she denied, shaking her head. The way he'd yelled about the hall and its changes came back to her. She wrung her trembling hands together. "He'd be forced to pick between Blaine and I, she would be picked, and I—I would be sent off to marriage." To Grayham. Bile rose in her throat.
"Now, now," he said, holding a hand out. "I highly doubt he'd choose Blaine if you came into the picture. He'd be pleased to know your true gender."
"You can't know that," she insisted, taking the hand he held out. She clasped it tightly, trying to inject her belief on the matter into him. "And I cannot risk it."
"It would not be a risk," he denied.
She stared at him. Saeran didn't think he'd be swayed in the matter, as much as she desperately needed him to.
"What do I have to do to convince you that revealing me is a bad idea?"
He drew back. "Bribery? You'd try bribery with the squire of Laird Shaw?" He laughed a little.
Her lips tightened. She'd do anything. Grayham was a fate worse than death, though she'd meet it eventually. Blaine had never been wrong before—if she was forced to Grayham's side, as barren as she was, she would be killed when he found out.
"I'd try anything," she said with conviction.
Connor didn't react.
"Anything," she pleaded, tightening her fingers around his. He looked down between them, brows drawn over his eyes.
"You're asking me to lie to the laird," he repeated quietly. "What has you so terrified of marriage to him? He would not hurt a woman, nor treat her as less than she is. Everyone is equal in his land."
She didn't know if she could tell him everything. Blaine would flog her if she knew they were having this conversation, if she knew Saeran had gotten into this situation at all, but she'd be even more furious to have their plan exposed.
But she needed Connor to trust her—and even though he had attempted to accost her, she knew she could trust him. He had the eyes, the look. That easy-going nature that was somehow refined. He had priorities—and his laird's better good was one of them. If he thought for a second that she was a threat to the laird, he would expose her. Telling him the truth would eliminate the possible threat he thought she posed.
"I will not be the one to marry him," she finally said. She dropped his hand, instead wrapping her arms around herself. "Blaine will."
"He has a choice in who he marries, though. He should know there's another option."
She looked at the ground. "Tell me. The laird needs an heir, does he not?"
"Well—" He leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest. "Before the king brought you two to him, he was not concerned. If anything would have happened to him, Brodrick would have taken over. McGregor’s boy would have claim to the clan. By all rights, this clan is only here because of the McGregors. But now that it has been presented to him, yes, he does need an heir. I've always believed he did."
Her chest tightened even worse than before. The only one who knew Saeran's problem was Blaine.
"What does this have to do with you?" he asked, coming forward. One look at his face and she knew he'd pieced it together. The sympathy, the pity. It was the same look Blaine had worn.
"I cannot marry the laird because I am barren," she said, tears welling in her eyes. She held them back by sheer force of will. She'd gotten all of her tears out the day Blaine had told her. The expression on his face made it so hard for her to be strong, though.
Connor made a sound and the swiped a hand over his face. "That...Saeran, I'm..."
"He can't know," she insisted softly, unable to look at him.
"The king would give you a husband who will understand." He sounded so sure of himself. She only laughed.
"Have you ever heard of Hans Grayham?"
Stony silence. So bad that it made her shiver. Saeran cast a glance to Connor.
"Yes, I know of him. Everyone does."
"That's who I'm going to marry if the king realizes any of this is going on, and if the laird feels that he has to pick between the two of us." She worried her lip, tightening the torn cloth around her chest. Speaking, even thinking, about him gave her shivers. Made it hard for her to breathe. "How do you know of him, all the way in the Highlands?"
"There's much to know," Connor muttered. "He was the laird's sister's husband."
She stared at him.
"Grayham’s third wife?"
"Yes." One word. Short. Pained.
"I'd heard rumors...that...that the laird was the one to kill her," she whispered.
Connor's eyes blazed. "Who did you hear that from? Kane would have never done anything to hurt Annalise. He worshipped her every breath."
She backed away at his vehemence. "It was only a rumor I heard—"
He laughed sharply. "Oh, so you're one of those ladies. The ones who believe and simper over everything they hear at court." He raked his eyes over her. Disgust that she couldn't understand darkened his eyes.
"I'm sorr—"
"Oh, I just bet," he snapped. "Rumors. Gossip. Flirting. What happened in the hall? You're a natural!" He laughed. The sound made her stomach clench. This was not going good. Instead of making him favor her, she'd angered him.
But the words he was speaking now made her blood boil.
She stepped forward, stabbing a finger at him. "I am not like those air-headed women that float around at court. I don't understand what has you so angry, either! All I did was voice my suspicions."
"Gossiping," he said, shaking his head. "Gossiping to me about the death of a beautiful woman, thinking that her brother was the one who ended her life. The Lion. Have you ever watched a lion stalk his prey?" he asked, raising a brow.
She wanted to vomit. A threat. He was threatening her—because she'd misspoken. In a way, she could admire it. He was loyal enough to Kane Shaw that he would threaten a being over a rumor—and it also said a lot about the man she was hiding from.
"I take that as a no," he said. He stalked to the door, his lithe body stiff with anger. "Well, you might want to take note of how Shaw will react when he learns of your...secret, and how you planned to lie to him."
Connor was going to tell him. Her blood ran cold. "Connor, please, I meant no—"
"Offense? 'Tis quite all right," he murmured, smiling at her. "I'll not be the one to worry over it anymore. I'll leave that to The Lion when he finds out that a person he had planned to protect is not only lying to him, but spreading rumors about his sister's death."
Before she could say anything else, he stalked out of the door. She watched him go, trembling.
She'd begun to grow hopeful, but now…
THT | 10
“I’m quite thirsty,” Blaine said as Saeran passed her sister’s room. She’d hoped to just sneak by without her noticing, but luck was not in Saeran’s favor, and hadn’t been for quite some time. A full moon at the castle she’d stayed, and not a single day had gotten better.
Mayhap it was her growing fear of becoming discovered, or mayhap, her sister was slowly growing worse in attitude and actions. Servants had become too terrified to come show. Sabia’s children no longer ran around the hall. The Lion was home as much as cows flew, and even Brodrick had become scarce of late.
Even Connor, though he was around the castle more than the laird, stayed away from the halls, the kitchens, the gardens, and anywhere else Blaine was.
Saeran couldn’t even blame them anymore.
“Aye,” she muttered, forcing
herself to smile. “I bet—”
“Why,” Blaine said with an irritated smile, “must you do that ‘aye’ thing? It’s annoying to the point of distraction, sister. You’ve been doing it since we were children and I’m just now beginning to realize how very annoying it is.”
At least Blaine was honest…
“I’m sorry,” she said, even though she wasn’t. It had become such a habit when she was younger that it had stuck with her and grown. In a way, it was the only connection she had to not just her father, but her childhood.
She smiled a little.
Only recently had she remembered how she’d come to saying “aye” to everything. Being around the laird for the brief seconds that she was made her recall times of her childhood, when things had been happy.
Every year, there had been a fair with all of the clans—Lowlanders and Highlanders a like would come. The Sinclairs hadn’t missed a single year of those fairs, but only because Saeran had forced them to go.
The laughing, the smells, the animals, the events. It had all been thrilling for her—and that everyone got along, no less. Even as a girl she’d known that feuds existed between every clan, born purely from pride and greed. Her mother had made Saeran promise that she wouldn’t repeat the muttered words she’d spoken, but they’d stuck with Saeran all through her childhood.
She hadn’t been able to understand them. The Lowlanders got along just fine, though they met mainly at court, and since they rarely visited the Highlands, she hadn’t known of the brutes that roamed the dangerous land.
That is, up until she got lost at the fair one year, the very first one she could remember. She’d only been the tender age of six, but filled with wonder and excitement, she’d wandered off. It wasn’t until she’d stumbled into an area with large, burly men who all wore swords, that she realized she was lost.
Almost instantly, she’d started to cry. Saeran bit her lip as she remembered her own foolishness. Luckily, a small lad with hair as dark as night had come to her aid. He’d escorted her out of the area with a gentlemanly hand on her elbow.