Page 4 of A Bride for the Wicked Highlander (Daring a Highland Laird #2)

“ W hat?” Maddie stared at him, waiting for the joke. “Are you serious?”

Oscar shrugged. “Unless ye’ve changed yer mind in the past two seconds, or unless this is one of yer wee dares...”

“It’s not! I swear, it’s not!” she urged, the potent sweep of utter relief propelling her forward, her arms looping around his neck.

She hugged him with all the pent-up stress of the past day, since leaving Horndean’s driveway without much of a plan at all.

She had come to Castle Muir with no notion of whether Oscar would even allow her through the gates and a hearty dose of mad hope, spurred on by a lack of sleep that he would agree to her cobbled-together plan.

And as she held him tightly, feeling the ripple of his muscled back against her palms, she inhaled the woodsmoke scent of him. A comforting aroma that relaxed her a little too much.

What are you doing?

Her mind gave her a swift kick of sense, and she withdrew from him as if she’d sat on a pin. She’d just said she wouldn’t be giving him children any time soon; she didn’t want him to think she’d changed her mind about that in the past two seconds.

“Thank you,” she said stiffly, her stomach writhing with embarrassment. “Truly, thank you.”

She was quite certain she’d never blushed in her life, yet her face was beginning to feel uncomfortably warm. If Oscar pointed it out, she would blame it on the fire beside her with every shred of defiance she possessed.

“Aye, well, ye remember that gratitude,” Oscar said with a sly smile. “I’m a man of action over words, so we’ll see how grateful ye are.”

Maddie blinked. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“For now, nothin’,” he replied, rising from his knees, extending a hand to her. “Ye look tired, lass. And from what ye’ve told me, ye’ve had a long journey to reach me. Let’s get ye to bed, eh? A soothing bath first, perhaps.”

She hesitated, staring at the proffered hand. “Alone, yes?”

“I wouldnae refuse an invite,” he said, his laughter a husky rumble in the back of his throat.

“Well, I’m not extending one,” she muttered, folding her arms across her chest. “I spent most of yesterday stuffed in beside crates of gutted fish, and most of last night and today between boxes of dirty vegetables, twelve chickens, and an old sheep whose fate I dare not think about. So, I should very much like to bathe and sleep without anyone leering at me.”

Oscar kept his hand out, a flicker of something darker than his laugh glinting in his eyes. “Remember that gratitude, Lady Madeleine.” He clicked his tongue. “I still have two days to send ye back to yer faither. I could put a bow on ye, if ye really irk me.”

Maddie grabbed his hand without a second thought, hating the position that her father had put her in.

“That is one thing you should know about me, Oscar: I am particularly snappy when I’m tired and sore and furious with the educatory establishments.

Feral hounds, tossed a bone, have been known to have less bite. ”

He pulled her up from the armchair with such unexpected force that she flew straight into that rock hard chest of his, likely adding another bruise to her impressive array. She put her free hand out to steady herself, gasping as her palm fell on solid muscle.

As if she had brushed hidden nettles, she yanked the hand back, folding her arm behind her back so she wouldn’t accidentally touch him again.

If he noticed, he didn’t show it, weaving her other hand through the crook of his powerful arm as he led her out of the study.

“Betty-Ann?” he called as they walked back to where they’d come from, the entrance hall less chilly now the doors had been closed.

The old maid appeared out of nowhere, like she’d been eagerly awaiting a summons. Her rheumy blue eyes twinkled with a more youthful mischief that immediately put Maddie on edge.

Does she think I’m another one of Oscar’s... conquests? Goodness, what does she think we were doing in that study?

“What can I do for ye, m’laird?” the old woman asked, smiling as she looked Maddie up and down. A decidedly friendlier assessment than their first meeting, when Maddie had insisted on Oscar being interrupted.

Oscar released Maddie’s arm, his large hand moving to lightly nudge the small of her back ushering her forward into the care of the maid.

“Take Lady Madeleine to the west tower,” he instructed.

“Draw her a bath, fetch her somethin’ to eat, tend to anythin’ else she might need. Clean clothes might be a fair start.”

“ Lady Madeleine?” Betty-Ann’s eyes widened, her hands clasping as if a prayer had been answered.

Oscar nodded. “Lady Madeleine Huxley. Daughter of some Earl or other. She’s to be our honored guest.” He winked as he glanced at Maddie. “We’ll discuss the details tomorrow, lass. I’ll make sure ye’re nae woken too early—see if we cannae get ye soothed enough that ye’ll permit a stroke or two.”

Irritation rushed up through Maddie’s chest, riding on a wave of white-hot mortification. She hadn’t thought he would throw her remark about feral hounds back at her.

“I wouldn’t attempt it so soon,” she replied crisply. “Even if I seem pacified, I may still bite if you get too close.”

“And I might bite back,” he said with that unyielding smirk.

A thousand snide comments leaped to the tip of her tongue, pleading to be unleashed upon him. But the last of her common sense held the words back, remembering that he was the one with her fate in his hands. For the time being, she needed to play nice, no matter how much it exasperated her.

“Then, let us both hope I rest well,” she said more politely. “Goodnight, Laird Muir.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Goodnight, Lady Madeleine.”

A subtle nod from Oscar spurred the old maid into motion, her blue-veined hand, as cold as a block of ice, taking gentle hold of Maddie’s wrist.

“Ye come with me now, m’lady,” Betty-Ann urged, pulling her with the strength of a woman who’d spent most of her life in service. “I’ve some lovely oils that I’ve been waitin’ to use. Yer skin will be soft as silk by the time ye’re out of yer bath, and ye’ll smell as fine as a summer garden.”

Maddie laughed despite herself. “Do I reek so terribly?”

“Nay one will be bottlin’ it, I’ll just say that,” the maid replied with a gap-toothed grin. “But once I’ve scrubbed ye and lacquered ye in oil, ye’ll feel like a new woman. And there’s fresh linens on the bed. Nothin’ better after a tryin’ journey.”

Maddie groaned before she could stop the sound escaping, imagining the luxury of a hot bath and clean sheets, already looking forward to soaking her aching limbs until the water cooled.

Behind her, a deep chuckle rumbled.

She looked back over her shoulder, refusing to be ashamed about the singular pleasure of what awaited her.

It was clear she needed to be careful about what she said to Oscar, and how she said it, but that didn’t mean she would be bowing and scraping.

That didn’t mean he would be getting an entirely different version of her.

“Laird Muir?” she said with a tight smile.

His teeth grazed his lower lip. “Are ye reconsiderin’ that invitation for company?”

“Not at all,” she replied, pleased by the evenness of her tone. “But now that you mention it, there’s something I would know.”

He moved toward her slowly, his gray eyes gleaming with an intrigue that made her breath quicken. “And what might that be, lass? What are ye interested to discover?”

“Are you...” she murmured, glancing around to ensure there were no other witnesses aside from the old maid... while doing her best attempt at reeling him in, making him hang on her every word.

He seemed to take the bait, coming a step closer. “Am I what, lass?”

She looked him straight in the eye. “Are you going to keep... entertaining your diverse array of company? Your invitations, as I understand it, aren’t quite as exclusive as mine.”

“Nae jealous, are ye?” he teased, lifting his hand as if he meant to brush back a lock of her hair.

She blew a breath upward before he could, puffing the hair out of her face.

“Oh no, I don’t mind in the slightest; I just want to be aware of it beforehand, so I know not to bother you while you’re otherwise engaged.

” She smiled. “I already said I had no qualms about what you do or with whom you do it. Perhaps, you were too distracted in your study to listen.”

He puffed a wry laugh, his lip lifting in a lopsided smile, his tongue running across a surprisingly sharp-looking canine. But the smile was harder to decipher; Maddie was unable to tell if she’d annoyed him or amused him. Maybe both.

“Och, lass, now that ye’re here, I couldnae even if I wanted to,” he purred.

“News of me takin’ a wife will spread faster than a lover’s thighs.

Until they ken who ye are and what manner of lass ye are—namely, whether ye can fight or nae—there’ll be nay one knockin’ at me door.

Ye disrupted me evening’s amusement, and ye’ll have disrupted it for a fair while yet. ”

Whether I can fight? Maddie gulped. She might have been tough in her demeanor and with her barbed words, but she fought her battles with discourse and intellect, not tooth and nail.

“I apologize for the inconvenience,” she said, rallying. “I hope you don’t suffer too grievously without being pawed at for a while. Although, they do say that anticipation rather intensifies the reward.”

His gaze wandered over the contours of her, that gleam in his eyes not dulling in the slightest. Instead, it seemed to brighten with a hunger that made the back of her neck prickle.

“Where did ye read that?” he asked in a sultry voice. “I wouldnae have thought they were yer sort of books. Truth be told, I didnae think anyone wrote of that at all.”

Her breath faltered. “It was in a book of science, written by a naturalist. I believe he was studying monkeys at the time. When food was scarce and some was found, they would shriek with excitement at the discovery. When food was given freely, and available in abundance, they barely reacted.” She paused, meeting his gaze with all the defiance she possessed. “The succinct observation was my own.”

For a moment, Oscar said nothing, narrowing his eyes as he searched her face instead of letting his gaze run over the shape of her, undressing her through her gentlemen’s clothes. She didn’t think she had gone too far, but he wasn’t always easy to read.

“I do hope that wasnae an insult,” Oscar said.

“Certainly not,” she replied.

He gave a slight nod. “Then, off ye go to yer bath and yer rest. Ye have yer answer, and I appreciate yer concern for the inconvenience ye’ve caused me.

” He bent his head, close enough to kiss her neck.

“I expect ye in a dress at breakfast. We dinnae want to scandalize me clan and council before they’ve even heard ye’re English. ”

He drew back swiftly, the rush of air as he moved caressing the side of her face like a brush of gentle fingertips.

There was a smile on his lips but it stopped short of his eyes, letting her know she was dancing on the edge of a dangerous line with her witty remarks. One she hadn’t quite stepped over yet.

“Goodnight,” he said, striding off before she could respond.

She watched him leave, releasing a shaky breath. Surviving the next two days was going to be just as hard, if not harder, than trying to keep her place at St. Andrews University. Possibly with the same outcome of getting soundly kicked out.