Page 24 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Bride
CHAPTER 24
“It looks wonderful, Mrs. Murray,” Maisie exclaimed as she stood in the great hall.
Just as it had been for the contest, the room was dressed in banners in the MacLennan clan colors, and beautiful centerpieces were placed on all of the tables.
Maisie experienced a strange nostalgia as she stood in the room. Only a few days ago she would have given anything to be out of it to escape the contest. Now, faced with quite a different scenario, she was not sure how to feel. There were frightening circumstances tied to this feast, to be sure, but there was something homelike about the space.
Tonight, she would sit at the top table with her husband by her side. Together it felt as though they could accomplish anything.
I did not expect to feel this way, she thought, I am almost excited for the feast. How is that logical?
“Laird MacLennan has invited almost eighty people, including the council and all their spouses. It will be a night to remember, m’lady.”
For someone at least, it might be their last night.
“Thank you for all ye have done, Mrs. Murray, I look forward to the day when we can arrange one together.”
Mrs. Murray smiled and squeezed her arm before moving away to see to the rest of the preparations. Maisie brought her mind back to the problem at hand and wondered if this would work.
James suspected the culprit was close to him, but Maisie did not have the courage to voice her own suspicions of Lillian. Mrs. Guthrie and Marcus were incredibly well-liked amongst the servants and were practically part of the furniture.
If he had just chosen Lillian none of this would have happened.
She sighed, leaving the room and going to find Jean to decide what she would wear for the event.
As she limped down the corridor, she heard someone pursuing her. Before she could turn to look behind her, a strong hand was on her lower back and another around her arm. She relaxed instantly.
“Ye shouldnae be up,” James said angrily as he maneuvered her bodily into a chair at the side of the corridor.
She winced, holding onto her leg.
“That isnae helpin’, James,” she said reproachfully, rubbing at it. “I was quite capable of walking before ye manhandled me.”
“What are ye doin’ out of bed?”
She looked up at him. The mask of the laird was fully in place—all fury and authority. The vein in his temple hadn’t abated since he returned from the village and his jaw was clenched in a hard line.
Maisie wasn’t sure how to be around James now. They had finally consummated their marriage, which had been beyond anything she could ever have pictured, and yet she felt as though they had regressed into their earliest days. He looked at her as though she were a nuisance he had to put up with.
She rose from the chair, irritated that she needed to lean on him to find her balance.
“I am out of bed because I wanted to see what Mrs. Murray has done. Some lady of the house I am. I have barely left my room for two days.”
“Maisie,” he said in exasperation, “ye were sliced through the leg with an arrow. The servants will manage.”
She let go of him. She had wanted him to insist she would be a good lady of the house—that she would be able to fulfill her duties well. But he had dismissed it as though the servants didn’t even need her.
“What is wrong?” he asked stiffly, lowering his voice. “Is this about last night?”
“Nae,” she said with too much weight behind it. “I am tired and worried about what might happen at the feast.”
“We will have guards at every door. All of the highborn families have been invited, and they’ll come if they ken what’s good for them.”
“What if ye’re wrong, what if the man who attacked me was just some bandit wanting coin?”
“Then why did he follow ye? A lone woman on a horse. He would have been better placed to follow me and Harris?”
“Because I cannae defend meself like ye. I have nae strong muscles and a sword. I left the castle with nothin’ but me horse.”
She paused as something changed in his expression, and she looked up at a pleased smile.
“Strong muscles?”
She scowled. “Ye ken how strong ye are, ye can pick me up and throw me about—” she blushed furiously; she had not quite meant it in that way.
He laughed, smoothing the crease between her brows with his thumb.
“It was nae a criticism, lass; I am glad ye think me handsome.”
Maisie shook her head but could not help laughing. “That is nae what I said!” she insisted.
He was staring at her when she stopped, a soft expression on his face. He brushed her cheek.
“I didnae ken ye had dimples, lass, ye dinnae laugh with me too much.”
Maisie straightened, shaking away the easy familiarity she had felt.
It isnae real.
“If this marriage is to work in the way ye say, we should try to be less angry around each other, and more accomodatin’,” she said.
“Ye’re right, lass. I ken I have been damnably busy these last few days. After the feast, let’s agree that we’ll eat together at breakfast twice a week too. That way if ye dinnae see me in the evenin’, I can see ye at the start of me day.”
Maisie felt a pulse of pleasure at that.
“Aye, I’d like that.”
James nodded and stepped back.
“Will ye be all right gettin’ back to yer room? Ye should rest until the evenin’. I ken ye are a stubborn woman, but that leg cannae get infected. I’ll send the healer up.”
“Thank ye, it is painin’ me a bit.”
And just like that the anger that had left his face was back, and he nodded with determination, stalking away, his massive shoulders swinging as he walked.
She headed back to her room, feeling a sense of trepidation for the night ahead.
God help whoever he found to be the culprit.
James stood beside Harris at the edges of the room watching the crowds gather.
“Ye need to change yer expression, man,” Harris said softly. “Ye look like ye’re about to kill them all.”
“I’m thinkin’ about it,” James muttered darkly.
“Ye have yer suspicions I take it?”
“Aye. I just hope I’m wrong.”
“What dae ye need me to dae?”
“Keep a watchful eye, dinnae let anyone slip past the guards if things escalate.”
“Aye, m’laird.”
“And watch me bride like a hawk.”
Harris nodded giving him a knowing smile and James simply rolled his eyes, but as he did so the opposite door swung open, and Maisie entered.
James was unable to breathe.
She looked spectacular. He felt a jolt deep in his gut at the dress she was wearing. It was the gray and silver gown he had bought for her that she had refused to accept as an apology for his absence.
Perhaps I am forgiven.
The elation was so great that it nearly overcame him, and he wanted to rush through the room, pick her up, and kiss her in front of everyone.
James kept his eyes on Maisie as she walked through the room. She had pearls tied into her hair and a sparking necklace.
He had never seen a more beautiful woman in all his life.
“She certainly looks like the lady she is, m’laird,” Harris said sincerely. James looked back at his man-at-arms. “I have this,” Harris said. “Go to her, I can tell ye’re itchin’ to.”
“I should observe the crowds.”
Harris’s hand gripped his arm. “Ye are doin’ this for her, m’laird. Ye can observe just as well from the high table. Better in fact.”
James set his jaw but did as he said.
His feelings for Maisie were becoming increasingly confusing. He didn’t want her to be a distraction, yet whenever she was in the room, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Her presence contrasted violently with his engrained sense of duty.
As he reached her, she recoiled a little, probably at his black look. He tried to smooth out his features again, bending down to give her a brief kiss on the cheek. When he stood back, she was smiling.
“Ye look beautiful,” he said and enjoyed watching her blush. “Dae ye like the dress then?”
Her fingers smoothed over the sparkling fabric. It suited her so well he wanted to see her in it every day.
“It is a wedding present from me husband, and yes I love it.”
He snorted and pulled out her chair so she could sit. The remaining crowds that were milling about followed his lead.
It was usually impossible to get the heads of all the great houses in one room like this, but everyone was here. James assumed they had come because they expected he had an announcement to make. Or perhaps they were just here in support of his bride.
Either way, it took them all an age to stop speaking to one another. Every single man here had business with the other or needed to talk to him about some matter of the clan. It was a good few minutes before everyone was seated and the food could be brought out.
It was Cullen-skink soup, one of his favorites, and he glanced at Maisie.
“I may have asked the cook about yer favorite foods. Mrs. Murray had strict instructions to indulge ye.”
He managed a smile. He glanced around the room, watching the servants moving about and the soup being served. Everyone seemed in high spirits, but one could never tell how any man was feeling in his heart.
Was this foolish?
He had made a rash decision to hold the feast. He was desperate to keep Maisie safe and ensure no one else could ever hurt her.
But as he looked about the room, he noticed how exposed they were. If someone wanted to target them, he had just put his wife at the top of the room, open to any kind of attack.
He twisted his foot in his boot, feeling the comforting line of the blade beside his ankle from the dirk he had placed there. His sword was beneath his seat, and another dirk at his belt.
He looked around them. He would be able to fight anyone if they were foolish enough to do anything here.
They will be dead before the main course if that is the case.
He ate as much of the soup as he could manage, listening to Maisie chatting easily with Bram Wallace on her left. Marcus and Lillian were three tables along in front of him. James did his best not to stare at them.
Marcus was in particularly high spirits—almost exaggeratedly so—laughing and joking with the others on the table while Mrs. Guthrie looked on. Lillian was small and quiet, but that was nothing new. Her eyes were downcast, and she had barely touched her food.
Next, the lamb was brought out, and James began to relax.
The tables before him were calm as everyone tucked into their food. There was much laughter and merriment, and he started to think that perhaps Maisie was right. Perhaps this was all a case of bad luck, and she had been targeted by someone who was not connected to James at all.
Then Maisie started choking, and his world collapsed.