Page 6 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Bride

CHAPTER 6

James waited impatiently for Marcus to return with Miss Maisie Brown.

Or is it Thomasina?

Her outburst at her name, the answers to the questions, and her open defiance against him through the whole affair had had him at a stand beneath his kilt for the whole contest.

He had never seen such a blatant show of hostility and rebellion—nor one so precise. She was clearly not a stupid woman, and the verbal dance he had just witnessed only proved it. She knew exactly what line she was walking between disgracing her family name and escaping her fate.

And she walked it well. Not only did she answer all of the questions with confidence and poise, but she even made him think differently about some of the answers he might have given.

He couldn’t wait to challenge her and see what she did. His skin was positively itching to get his hands on her, and it took effort to remain seated in his chair.

Don’t lose yer head, ye dobber. Ye are more than yer baser needs.

He hadn’t thought of a woman so explicitly in years, his mind always so preoccupied with clan matters. Now his mind was only occupied with his snapdragon. He wanted to see all that fire and defiance dim just for him. A shiver of pleasure passed over him as he thought of her going pliant in his arms, as he bent her to his will.

He cleared his throat, disturbed by the possessive thoughts flooding his mind. He shifted in his seat, aware of the council members all about him.

No one in the council was going to understand his choice, particularly not with Lillian involved. He had seen the anger on Marcus’s face when he had asked him to fetch Miss Brown. If things went his way, that discomfort would not abate any time soon.

He felt the thrum of anticipation in his blood as he heard her soft footfalls. Marcus entered the room, his expression rather grim, James remained seated, wanting the lass to know who was in charge.

That look she had given him at the end of her answer—not pittin’ people against each other — the boldness in it. No woman had ever had the audacity to look at him that way in all his life.

She glared at him as she entered, settling into the chair across from him, smoothing out her skirts against her legs. His mind returned to his fantasies of ripping the fabric from her body and he felt his blood rush south.

He raised a hand to the other men in the room by way of a distraction.

“Could ye give us the room, please?” he said, never taking his eyes off her. After a short pause, all of the council members shuffled out, and they were finally alone.

He waited to see what she would do. She didn’t move at all, waiting for him to speak. He took his time, intrigued by her face. She had angular cheekbones that shaped the dip to her cheeks, wide pale blue eyes like a clear river stream, and glorious golden hair that fluttered about her shoulders.

“Ye’ve got some interestin’ ideas about runnin’ a castle, Miss Brown,” he said eventually.

Maisie raised her eyebrows at him. “I answered the questions as I was requested to. Honestly, and keepin’ in mind me prize. ”

Och, this woman will be the death of me.

“Ye certainly stand out from the others.”

She pursed her lips.

James hesitated. “I guess that suits a lass named Thomasina .”

Her jaw clenched. “It’s Miss Brown or Maisie, nothing else,” she snapped, then swiftly closed her mouth, looking a little embarrassed by her outburst.

Och, she is feisty indeed.

“My mistake, Maisie,” he said, pronouncing her name carefully and rolling it around on his tongue. “Why did ye pick that name?”

“Are ye askin’ me to answer, or orderin’ it?” she said, and he gripped the arms of his chair so tightly he might have broken them in half.

“I am askin’,” he managed through gritted teeth.

“Well then, my answer is that it’s nae yer business, m’laird,” she said, sitting back in her chair and glowering at him.

He took in her form as she did so. Even by candlelight, she was strikingly beautiful.

James finally lost the battle with himself and stood up, walking toward her and stopping just short of her chair. He enjoyed the power he felt in this position, towering above her as she sat meekly in the chair before him.

He reached out a hand to grab her chin, but she leaped to her feet as he did so. She skirted around him swiftly and backed up toward the door she had entered through.

“Just because ye summoned me here, dinnae assume I’m free for ye to touch me,” Maisie said, glaring at him.

“I see,” he said. “Well, like I told ye before, if ye are willin’ to be wed to a monster , then that monster may have ways of tamin’ ye to do his biddin’.”

She scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“What is it, lass, dae ye have a problem with me way of catchin’ a bride?”

“Ye mean the cattle auction ye had out there?”

Despite himself he did balk at that reply. It was true, that he had not been entirely in favor of Marcus’s proposal, but he had not quite thought of it in those terms. He saw little difference in what he had done today and courting women at a dance. It was all a game to impress—how were the questions so different?

“So ye have a problem with the contest?” he growled, walking around the chair and leaning against it, trying to tamp down the raging desire to stop her insolent mouth with a kiss.

“Aye, I do,” she said, standing her ground. “It’s ridiculous to put women on display and make them compete for the honor of yer hand in marriage. Is me only value in how I might manage a household or raise children?”

She is even more beautiful when she is vexed.

“And what if it is?” James asked, taking a step forward just to watch her take another step back.

She looked scandalized. “I refuse to be a part of this absurdity,” she said. “I get dragged here, against me will, forced to perform like some kind of animal, and then put in this room alone with ye? The gall.”

She’s nae wrong, James mused to himself. The more she defied him, the more he wanted her.

“Fair enough, off with ye,” he said, dropping his smirk and replacing it with a stoic mask. “Go and join the rest of the animals.”

He didn’t need any more time to decide. She might not want him, but he wanted her, and he was determined to have her—whatever it took.

Maisie turned on her heel and stormed from the room, unable to believe the arrogance of the man.

She could not believe he had tried to take her chin in his hand as though he were disciplining her. The very thought of it made a thread of need uncurl inside of her, and she tried to push it away, feeling angry at her own body’s reaction.

Why dae the most handsome men have to be the most high-handed?

She had wanted to strike him but had held herself back by an inch. Her chest felt tight, and there was a knot of tension throbbing in her right shoulder that would not abate.

She was worried that she had not done enough to dissuade him. Why did he ask to speak with her privately? It had served no purpose, and he had not asked to speak to any of the other girls.

Perhaps he will wed Lillian and keep me in a cage as his mistress, she thought scathingly, trying to ignore the stealthy little thrill that the thought instilled in her.

It had been a strange meeting. As the council members had left, the mask she had seen in the hall had fallen away again. His face was relaxed and almost amused. He was one man with his people and another with her and she couldn’t fathom why that should be.

As she emerged from the room back into the hubbub of the great hall she had never been so grateful to see her father in her life. One look at her expression, and he was on his feet, waiting for her to reach him before leaning close to her.

“What happened? Are ye alright? If he has done anythin’ improper I shall?—”

“Nae, Faither,” she said hurriedly, pulling him into his seat. She could feel Lillian’s eyes on her and did not need him to make a scene.

“Well, then, what did he say?” her father asked eagerly. “There must have been a reason for him to ask for ye. None of the other girls have followed ye.”

“He’s a bampot, I want naethin’ to dae with him,” Maisie answered honestly, fed up with her own confusing emotions toward the laird. “I just want to go home, Da. Once we return, we can solve everythin’ together. I’ll help more. Ye can confide in me from now on.”

Her father pursed his lips. “Maisie…ye dinnae ken what will happen.”

“I dinnae care,” she hissed. “Enough, Da. Let this infernal night be done and we’ll go back to our ordinary life, no matter how poor it may be.”

She picked up her wine and took a healthy swallow, only to realize she had accidentally picked up her father’s port. She choked slightly as she felt it flood her throat and then looked at the glass approvingly.

“That’s better than the wine.”

“Dinnae get any ideas, me girl,” her father murmured as he plucked the glass from her fingers.

Suddenly, a hush fell over everyone in the hall as James emerged. The strange intimacy she had felt from being alone with him had evaporated; all the heat had left his eyes, and they were cold and calculating once more.

She couldn’t decide if she wanted to be alone with him again or throw her glass at his head. Everything about him was designed to vex her. She wanted to escape the room, forget he ever existed.

Her eyes were glued to his every movement.

He walked in front of the high table and looked out at the assembled ladies. He appeared bigger and more muscular than she had ever seen him. If any man had ever embodied the word ‘laird’ it was him.

“I have made me decision!” he stated firmly, his eyes flitting about the room, but never so much as glancing at her or her father.

Thank goodness, she thought gratefully . He hasnae picked me.

The room fell silent, everyone watching with rapt attention. The other ladies were sitting forward in their chairs, Lillian amongst them, her dark brown eyes staring intensely at MacLennan.

The laird drew it out for an endless moment—toying with them.

It took everything in her not to scoff out loud.

“Me bride will be…”

MacLennan looked over the room, letting the suspense settle in, and then, as though it were happening to someone else, that dark blue gaze fell on her and Maisie felt her heart jump into her throat.

“Miss Maisie Brown.”