Page 19 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Virgin (Auctioned Highland Brides #3)

Anna hovered a lot, and Ciaran hated every single second of it.

So far, she was the sibling who got on his nerves the most. He understood that she was looking out for her sister, and recognized the intention and where it came from, but he couldn’t hide the fact that the questions she had been asking him since he sat for the portrait grated on him a lot .

The painter had begun to draw his eyes, and the fact that he had to sit still and take everything Anna was throwing at him was the most frustrating part of it.

“What is her favorite color?” she asked, her tone clipped, the back-and-forth movement of her red head almost making him dizzy.

“I daenae ken. We havenae spoken about that yet.”

“Ye’re getting married in a week.”

“And we only met a few days ago. I cannae ken everything yet.”

Anna nodded. “I suppose ye have a point. I shall ask ye hypothetical questions, then.”

“Do we really have to do this now?”

“Aye. Now, what is stopping ye?”

“Well, for one, I am getting me portrait done. I cannae move a lot.”

“We already drew yer mouth; I daenae ken why ye’re complaining. All ye have to do is answer the questions honestly.”

Ciaran rolled his eyes. Where was Elinor when he needed her?

“Are yer questions going to be stupid?”

“That’ll be for ye to determine, Laird MacTraigh.”

Ciaran threw his head back.

“M’Laird, I apologize, but ye have to…” The painter, an old man with greying sideburns, gestured with his hand.

Ciaran repositioned his head. “Let’s hear the questions, then.”

“Suppose Elinor challenged ye to a duel over the ownership of the pantry, how would ye respond?”

Ciaran cocked his head, his brow furrowed. “Are ye serious?”

“As a fever,” Anna responded, her voice unwavering.

“Why would I want to own the pantry in the first place?”

“I daenae ken. Why does anyone do anything? Ye have to answer the question, M’Laird.”

Ciaran sighed. “I wouldnae agree to the duel. I’ll just give her the control she wants.”

“What if she doesnae want to be given control? What if she wants to earn it?”

“Then I’ll fight her for it.”

His eyes returned to the painter, who looked utterly exhausted because Anna had been giving him directions the entire time.

A part of him wondered what the portrait would look like. Would it be intricate and detailed? Would his green eyes reflect on the canvas?

“That could use a deeper shade.” Anna mentioned to the painter. “And I think yer doing just a little too much on the cheekbones.”

Ciaran swallowed and the painter nodded.

“Perhaps ye could do with more lines on the hair as well,” she added, almost like an afterthought.

Ciaran sighed. It was evident that Anna knew what she was doing and he couldn't wait to see what the painting would look like at the end of the day.

That was if he survived this gruelling interrogation.

His heart rate quickened at the thought. Did this mean there’d be more interrogations like this in the future, the minute Anna became his sister-in-law?

“Next question.” Her voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

He straightened up as the painter continued to draw

“Ye’re about to go to war, and ye wake up one day to find that Elinor has painted yer warhorse sky blue. What do ye do?”

Even the painter froze, his brush hovering over the canvas.

Ciaran turned to Anna. “Ye cannae possibly expect me to answer that question.”

“I wouldnae have asked if I didnae want ye to answer.”

Ciaran swallowed. Had he died and suddenly gone to hell for some reason?

The painter resumed drawing.

“I shall fetch another warhorse.”

“What if there is nay other warhorse?”

“That is nae possible.”

“But what if there isnae?”

Ciaran sighed. “Then I shall take the dyed horse. How many more questions like these are ye going to ask?”

“Why? Do ye have somewhere ye need to be?”

Ciaran exhaled slowly. He was not certain how much more of this he could take, but he knew Anna would help him find out.

“Let us say ye woke up one morning and found that she had painted flowers on yer forehead and upper chest, how would ye react?”

“I am nae answering that. I’m done answering any other questions.” His voice was calm, even though he tried to suppress his annoyance.

“Why nae?”

“Why nae?” Ciaran repeated, looking up at her. “Did ye seriously just ask me why nae?”

“Aye, I just did.”

“Because these questions are childish. How about that? Elinor isnae going to paint flowers on me forehead in the middle of the night. She’s the lady of a clan, nae a child.”

“Hmm,” Anna murmured, pursing her lips. “Ye ken the questions I asked arenae just hypothetical? These are things Elinor has done in the past.”

Ciaran went still. “What?”

“Aye. Our brothers and even our faither were usually the victims of her pranks, if ye must ken.”

Ciaran shifted in his seat. “Yer faither?”

“She played most of the pranks on him. I remember the day he woke up with daisies on his forehead. He was so upset that Elinor had to hide out in the shed for the rest of that morning.”

“I-I didnae– ”

“I am asking ye these questions because Elinor has always had a strong sense of self. She kens who she is, or did before Murdock anyway. Sometimes, that can be a little overwhelming. The Lord kens there were days the whole castle laughed or sighed at how mischievous she was. She taught me everything I ken, and I must admit I take after her in that way, but even I wanted to strangle her sometimes. Now, ye actually could. Nay offense.”

“I’m nae going to kill me wife, if that is what ye’re insinuating.”

Anna shrugged. “Nay one admits it in the beginning.”

Ciaran relaxed into his seat once again. It suddenly dawned on him just how little he knew about the woman he was about to marry. How incredibly fun she could be. And yet she had never been anything but serious with him.

“She needs someone who will let that part of her shine again as she grows. If ye cannae do that, then ye’re nae the one for her. The right one, that is.”

“I daenae intend to keep any part of her from shining,” Ciaran stated, his voice clear.

Silence fell over the room, and several thoughts flooded his mind.

He needed to do more. To do better. He needed to make an effort. To show Elinor that he would be there for her no matter what. That he would be the complete opposite of her first husband.

“Did she really dye her faither’s horse?” he asked, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

As Anna opened her mouth to respond, the door to the gallery swung open and Elinor walked in.

“Anna, what in God’s name have ye been saying to him?”

“Nothing. I was just asking him some questions.”

“ I ken what ye’re capable of, Anna,” Elinor grunted, before turning to Ciaran, who remained seated. “She has been harassing ye with hypothetical questions, has she nae?”

Anna turned to him, too.

His lips curled into a full smile. “I didnae mind it.”

Anna turned back to Elinor. “See? He said he didnae mind it.”

“Anna, ye’re interrogating him so ye can chase him away. ‘Tis nae yer first time doing this. Also, I thought ye wanted to do the painting?”

Anna laughed. “I’m too heavy to stand for so long now that yer little niece or nephew is growing more and more by the day. Can ye believe they will pop out in just a few months?”

“This hasnae stopped ye before.” Elinor eyed her suspiciously.

“Well, maybe I was also a bit too angry at yer husband-to-be to do justice to his face.”

“I think ye need to get some rest,” Elinor muttered.

Anna moved closer to her and placed her hands on her shoulders. “Ye ken I want nothing but the best for ye, right?”

“I am well aware, aye,” Elinor responded.

Ciaran and the painter watched the exchange, amused looks on their faces.

“I just want ye to have a happy life after everything ye have been through,” Anna continued, her voice dropping to a shaky whisper. “Ye deserve that and more, Sister. Ye ken that.”

The mirth on Ciaran’s face faded into confusion.

Anna broke down into tears right in front of them. His eyes shifted to Elinor, whose eyes had widened in surprise, rather than confusion. She wrapped her sister in a hug immediately.

“Look. Yer husband is here. That is what I came to tell ye. I think ye should go downstairs and greet him. He has asked for ye.”

“What about the portrait?” Anna asked, sniffling.

“We can finish it later,” Elinor assured her. “In fact, ye can finish it when ye’re nay longer angry at Laird MacTraigh.”

She looked at the painter and motioned for him to leave with a polite smile. He bowed and made his way out of the gallery.

“Go on. Gordon is waiting outside,” Elinor urged once he was gone.

Anna sniffled one more time and trudged out of the gallery. The door clicked shut behind her, the sound echoing through the room.

And thus Ciaran found himself alone with his wife-to-be.

“I must apologize for whatever me sister– ”

“Please,” he cut in, rising from his chair. “Ye have nothing to apologize for.”

“She’s with child, as ye probably noticed,” Elinor whispered. “It throws yer emotions all over the place.”

“I cannae imagine,” Ciaran said.

He took a step closer to her. For some reason, something about the light in the gallery made her look ethereal.

“She was just telling me about how ye dyed yer faither’s horse.”

“Christ,” Elinor hissed. “She told ye about that?”

“There is a lot I daenae ken about ye, Elinor Lane,” Ciaran continued.

He took another step closer, shrinking the gap between them until they were mere feet away from each other.

“I suppose I could say the same about ye. Nine Men’s Morris, remember?”

Ciaran laughed. But the only thing he could focus on was her lips.