A Temptress in Tartan Page 6

  When she could focus on something else besides her own response, Elizabeth looked at the group gathered around. Her gaze caught on Mariam. A satisfied smile tugged at the woman’s lips. Elizabeth held that gaze with a challenge in her own. “Thank you for the welcome. Lachlan and I apologize if we kept you waiting for your supper. We’ve only been married for a few days and have had very little time to ourselves due to travel.”

  Her eyes narrowing, Mariam stepped forward. “Aye, the newlyweds. You say you’ve been traveling since you declared yourselves to each other? Perhaps tonight you can have a proper wedding night.”

  Cheers rose up around them, sending a shiver down Elizabeth’s spine. She held herself in check, trying not to let anyone see her response. Lachlan reached for her hand. He held her tight.

  “I can take care of my bride, Mariam. Never you mind about that,” Lachlan replied.

  “If I were your wife,” Mariam pressed on, “I would—”

  “Fortunately for Lachlan, you are not,” Cameron interjected. “Do me a favor, Mariam, and tell Mistress MacInnes we are ready for supper to be served.”

  Mariam threw Cameron a cold glance before she moved away, her chopines clacking sharply on the floor as she left.

  When the others drifted away to take their seats for the meal, Lachlan held Elizabeth back. “Do not pay any heed to Mariam.”

  “Were the two of you something more than friends at one point?” Elizabeth boldly asked. She recognized the green eyes of jealousy when she saw them. “That would explain a lot.”

  He looked surprised. “Nay. Never.” When he recovered, he added, “You handled Mariam’s taunts and the whisky very well.”

  Elizabeth shrugged. “I was teased mercilessly by the boys in my clan while growing up. I’m used to being tormented by others.”

  “That is unacceptable.” There was something akin to sympathy in Lachlan’s voice. He looked as though he wanted to say more, but Elizabeth quickly changed the subject.

  “Why is Mariam here at Ravenscraig Castle? Is she betrothed to Cameron?”

  “Nay,” Lachlan said. “He was appointed as her guardian when her father was summoned to Edinburgh to become the king’s official witch pricker.”

  “A pricker?” she asked, confused by the odd term.

  “He helps identify witches using a special technique called pricking.”

  Elizabeth shivered. “The witch-hunting that is raging through this country frightens me.”

  “It should frighten all of us.”

  Elizabeth clenched her fists, wanting desperately to turn the conversation to other things. “Shall we take our seats as well? We’ve kept them from their meal long enough.”

  Lachlan nodded and guided her toward the seats reserved for them at the head table beside Cameron and his men. Mariam sat at the opposite end of the long table, but that did not stop her from glancing their way time and again while the meal was served.

  The meal was an affair of roast stag, three roasted swans, turnips and boiled carrots, onions, leeks, and an assortment of tarts and fresh apples to finish the meal. When they were satiated, the tables were removed and the evening’s entertainment began, first with a piper, then with two musicians carrying a flute and a lute, followed by madrigal singers. When the applause and cheers died down, Mariam turned toward Elizabeth and said, “Perhaps Elizabeth could grace us with a song?”

  Elizabeth startled and felt a blush come to her cheeks as all eyes once again turned to her. “Nay. I do not like to sing for others.”

  Mariam narrowed her gaze. “Then you do sing.”

  “Everyone sings, just not around others,” she replied as heat rushed, hotter and brighter, to her cheeks.

  “Since you do sing, you should sing for us. After all, this celebration is in your honor. Shouldn’t you give something back to those who are celebrating you?” Mariam asked, looking as innocent as a cat with feathers protruding from its mouth.

  A round of passionate “ayes” rose around her and Elizabeth felt herself shrinking into a deeper sense of mortification.

  “My bride does not need to perform for you,” Lachlan said in a stilted voice.

  “You’re embarrassed for her. How sweet,” Mariam said with a self-satisfied smile.

  Despite the shivers of apprehension that traveled through Elizabeth, she stood, then moved to the front of the chamber. She drew a deep breath, closed her eyes, and began to sing a Gaelic song her mother had taught her before she’d died. “A ghaoil, leig dhachaigh gum mhàthair mi.” She started softly at first, until she opened her eyes to find the others now looked at her not with loathing, but surprise. Feeling more confident, she continued the hypnotic and mysterious song that told of a young girl’s encounter with the ‘each-uisge’ or water-horse.

  When she was done, silence settled all around her until Cameron stood, looking around and clapping. Soon the entire room stood and applauded, all except Mariam, whose features were thunderous.

  Cameron came forward and clasped her hands in his. “That song. Where did you learn it?”

  “From my mother who learned it from her mother. For generations the women in my family have passed down that song.”

  Cameron nodded. His eyes were bright and twinkling. “It awakens the heart to the ages gone by. Well done, Elizabeth.”

  “Thank you,” she stammered, glancing over at Lachlan, more eager than she dared to admit to see his response. But it was a little frightening too, seeing him look at her with confidence in his eyes.

  The chairs were removed in preparation for dancing as the piper started to play once more, filling the silence and diverting the attention from her. For that Elizabeth was grateful as she returned to Lachlan’s side.

  “You’re a fine singer. The best I’ve ever heard.”

  The words, true or not, ran over her like honey. “Liar,” she teased. “But thank you.”

  Lachlan chuckled and the sound washed over her in another wave of delight. How long had it been since she’d felt such simple pleasure? Too long. The last time she’d sung in a crowd it had been with her mother when she was a child. She had been happy then and had thought the world would always be like that.

  It wasn’t. When her mother died, she’d learned the hard, cruel reality of life. Her father had tried to comfort her in his own way, but things were never the same.

  Regardless of how he meant things, only two days in Lachlan’s presence and she’d regained some of the things that had been missing from her life—laughter, belonging, and song. He’d helped guide her back to those things all while she had been nothing but terrible to him. She closed her eyes as a chill replaced her warmth. Then suddenly, she felt a touch against her cheek. She flicked her eyes open.

  “Elizabeth?”

  “I’m sorry,” she interrupted, needing to get her apology off her chest. “I’ve been horrible to you since the beginning of this journey. That’s not me. That’s not who I am.” She looked around the room at the others who were engaged in conversations and laughing, enjoying themselves. “I was acting as everything they believe a Ruthven to be. But I am not those things. I’m not.” She turned back to him, trying to steady the trembling in her fingers, and the quick, loud pounding of her heart.

  “We just need to prove that to everyone else.” His eyes were sharp reflections of color in the candlelight. And yet, there was a spark of something she hadn’t seen in them before—something that pulled at her heart and made her feel warm and shaky again.

  He took a half-step toward her. “Elizabeth—”

  “Elizabeth.” Cameron was suddenly beside them, his face lit with curiosity as his gaze passed between herself and Lachlan. “The dancing is about to start. I would like the first dance to be with you, my lady.”

  Lachlan stepped back. His eyes shielded now. “Of course. You are the laird of the castle.”

  Elizabeth felt a stab of regret. Before she could object, Cameron guided her to the middle of the chamber where other dancers had assembled
in a line. The musicians were positioned at the back of the chamber, giving the dancers plenty of room to maneuver. The music started and the dance began first with a promenade, then with a twirl of joined hands before they returned to their positions.

  She looked for Lachlan. He wasn’t dancing. Instead he leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Blue eyes watched her spin, then dip.

  His attention from afar heated her. Suddenly her palms felt moist, her body hot, and her throat breathlessly tight. She forced her gaze away from Lachlan to focus on the motion of her feet. Cameron was an exquisite dancer. He twirled her about and the room flashed by her until she felt not just light-headed, but overly warm. Finally, the music slowed and came to a stop.

  She looked over her shoulder trying to locate Lachlan, but he was no longer against the wall. “Thank you for the dance,” she said.

  “Are you well?” Cameron asked, his brows coming together in a frown. “Your cheeks are flushed red.”

  “The dancing.” She brought her hands up to cover her cheeks. “I must be more tired than I thought.”

  “Of course.” Cameron took her arm and guided her to a chair. He sat her down. “Stay here. I will get you something to drink and find Lachlan.”

  “Aye,” she said as she sank back against the chair, watching her host disappear into the crowd.

  In the next moment, Lachlan was beside her. “Elizabeth, what is wrong?”

  She pushed a loose tendril of hair away from her face. Her hands shook slightly. “I’m fine. Simply tired.”

  Lachlan sat beside her, putting his hand to her forehead. “You feel warm.”

  “I just need some fresh air and then sleep. It’s been a long day.”

  “Aye, it has.” Lachlan stood and offered her his hand. “Come, let’s get you some fresh air.”

  She put her hand in his and let him pull her to her feet. Together they left the great hall, walking slowly, silently, until they stepped into the chill night air in the courtyard. Elizabeth took a deep breath, and let the heather-scented air revive her. She could still hear the skirl of the pipes. She closed her eyes, trying to clear her head and contain the emotions that had tried to break free tonight. She could feel her contempt fading for this man who was her husband. But every time she let someone get close to her, they betrayed her. Every time she gave up a piece of her heart, she got hurt.

  Elizabeth fought back the tears that threatened. She turned her head away so that Lachlan could not see them slip onto her cheeks as she remembered snippets from her past.

  Most of her father’s betrayals had stemmed from the fact she had not been born male. At times, she would think she was finally making headway when he started treating her as his equal, asking for her help in making decisions for the clan. Then, in the next moment, he would call her a know-nothing female, and instead defer to the opinions of other male clan members.

  And then there was Roland. He’d fostered with the Ruthvens and been raised as a member of the clan. She and Roland had been inseparable over the past five years and truly devoted to each other, or so she had thought until she learned two of the maids had borne his bastards. Still, she had swallowed her pride and forgave him his indiscretions, hoping someday soon he might ask her father for her hand in marriage. The night she thought he would do just that, he instead told her father he was leaving and had no idea when or if he might return.

  The two most important men in her life had betrayed and dismissed her, leaving her feeling alone and unloved.

  Forcibly shedding the memories, Elizabeth drew a deep breath, turned her head, and opened her eyes. Lachlan was there in the moonlight, studying her. “If it would help, we can stay here an extra day and let you rest.”

  The cool breeze fluttered his hair back from his face. It wasn’t rest she needed. “Nay, let us continue as you had planned.”

  He frowned. “If that is what you want.”

  “It is,” she said, the words sounding thin and unconvincing.

  Lachlan’s frown deepened. “What is it, Elizabeth? What aren’t you telling me?”

  She turned back to the castle, before he could ask any further questions, before he could see how vulnerable she felt. For a brief moment tonight, he’d made her feel special, like she was no different than anyone else. But she was. She was a Ruthven. He was a Douglas. She didn’t quite know what all that meant anymore, because something inside her had definitely shifted tonight. She and Lachlan were not friends, exactly. Definitely not lovers. But also, not enemies. Could they continue like this, being friendly toward each other while still harboring feelings of resentment and rivalry that had been present their whole lives?

  For the short-term, aye. But soon Elizabeth would have to pick a side. Would she remain true to her clan and their desire to keep the Ruthven-Douglas feud going, or would she be the peacemaker the king and queen wanted her to become?

  Chapter Five

  Upstairs in their bedchamber, Lachlan watched Elizabeth from the opposite side of the room. He’d wanted to kiss her after she’d finished her song in the great hall. Her voice had made him feel strangely weak, and filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite name. While the applause had sounded around them, he’d seen the look of shocked surprise in her tawny eyes. Innocent and unexpected pleasure. He could spend the rest of his life listening to her sing, watching that joy enter her eyes.

  Aye, he’d wanted to kiss her, and so much more. He winced at the memory of the kiss he had forced on her earlier. He should not have done that, but she’d angered him so. He closed his eyes, swallowing back his desire, wishing his own emotions weren’t so close to the surface. He groaned. He’d never felt this odd sensation of not quite being in control of his emotions, his reactions.

  As a warrior, he usually had a tight rein on his responses. He proceeded with logic and strategy. Around Elizabeth, all of that seemed to flee from his mind as he simply reacted as he never imagined he would.

  Lachlan took a deep breath, trying to concentrate on something in the room besides Elizabeth. He stared into the fire, watching the play of light and shadow it cast across the chamber. Until, once again, his gaze returned to her as the light reflected off her hair, making it shimmer with streaks of red and gold as she, too, stared at the flames.

  “Since we shall continue our journey in the morning, we should go to sleep,” Lachlan said.

  Elizabeth lifted her gaze from the fire to look at him in surprise. “There is still so much to—” She stopped, as though suddenly becoming aware of the intimacy of their situation.

  Lachlan’s gaze clung to the soft rise and fall of her chest as she breathed, the tension in her body as she clutched her hands at her sides, the slight hollow beneath the bones of her cheeks as her lips tightened. And her eyes—as warm as honey on a summer day.

  Lachlan jerked his gaze away. “Tomorrow will be another long day of travel.”

  With a nod she asked, “How shall we sleep tonight?” Her gaze slid toward the overly large bed.

  “The bed looks big enough for us both, wouldn’t you say? I’ll turn my back while you prepare yourself for sleep.” He turned to face the wall. There was no sound for a long moment, then finally he heard the rustling of fabric and smelled the warm, sweet scent that belonged to Elizabeth. He closed his eyes, breathing in the aroma, taking it into himself. As he did, a ripple of desire pulsed through him. Her scent wasn’t the only part of her he longed to explore. He wanted to join with her, to look at her without all her many layers of clothes. He wanted to touch her—to feel the softness of her skin beneath his calloused palms.

  He opened his eyes as he suddenly heard nothing but silence. “Are you finished?”

  “I am, my laird.” He turned to see her in the bed with the bed sheet pulled up to her chin.

  “Lachlan. Only Lachlan. There will never be such formality between us,” he said as he took off his belt and sword, then his boots. He set them atop a chair and removed the brooch at his shoulder, releasing the tail of
his kilt. He shrugged off his coat and divested himself of his neck scarf before unbuttoning and removing his shirt.

  Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed red, but she did not look away. Instead her gaze caught on the hair on his chest as it converged in the middle and continued downward. He reached for the thick belt at his waist and slowly unbuckled it. In an instant, his kilt fell to his feet, leaving him naked before her. Her gaze went over him slowly. She could have no doubt that he wanted her, as evidenced by his arousal. She inhaled sharply and finally looked away as she nervously worked her lip between her teeth.

  He slipped into the bed beside her. “Goodness, but you are wrapped in the sheet. Loose your hands and let me cover myself.”

  Instead of releasing the sheet, she pulled it tighter, until he finally pried her hands off the covers and he rolled beneath. For an instant his body touched hers until he pulled away, settling into the rope bed. “There. We are both bedded for the night.” He was acutely aware of her, so much so that every nerve in his body was on fire at her nearness. Her sharp intake of breath when he’d accidentally touched her sent his pulse racing. He struggled to master his desire, willing himself to think of other things . . . like the dangers ahead of them on their journey tomorrow. “You’ve nothing to fear from me, Elizabeth. Turn over and try to sleep.”

  Elizabeth lay as still as stone beside him. “Does that mean that you won’t . . . that we won’t . . .”

  “I made you a promise.”

  She turned to him. The relief on her face faded as she suddenly paled. “The others are expecting us to have a true wedding night.” She sat up and for a moment the sheet dropped, exposing the sheer white chemise through which he could see the small tipped peaks of her breasts. “If there is no evidence of our joining, Mariam will be the first to cry out that I am proved unchaste.”

  He sat up and tried to make out her features in the dying embers of the fire. She appeared quite pale in the flickering light. “No one is to say you are unchaste other than myself. Only I have the right to say how you came to me. Let us be done with this subject. Now lie down and get some rest.”