Page 30 of The Story of his Highland Bride (Dancing Through Time #4)

Charlotte stepped away from the man and sat on her rocking chair. She had angled it to give her a clear view of the estate grounds and skies. As she rocked and stared outside, she was powerfully aware of the man in the chamber with her.

The minute he walked into her space, her breath had hitched in her throat. Her eyes had clung to him like it was what she needed to live, and that had annoyed her, but what made her shiver was the way his brows furrowed as he began speaking.

“Miss Charlotte,” he said again, and she rose to her feet, walked over to the table to drop her quaich, then turned to him. “Are ye attendin' me?”

“Nay,” she answered. “In honesty, I dinnae understand why ye have come.”

Lines formed on his forehead, and he moved closer to her. “I came to speak to ye concernin’ yer guardian’s wish. He wants ye to wed, and by doin’ that, we will both get our share of his wealth. If ye dinnae do as he asks, then neither of us will get a thin’ and I am certain that ye dinnae want that.”

“Ye cannae be certain of anythin’ because ye dinnae ken me. I dinnae want to speak to ye about my guardian or his will. His manager said what he needed to, but I dinnae wish to discuss it further. All ye need to ken is that I have nay intentions of marryin' at all.”

“Miss Charlotte…” he began again, but she raised a hand to cut him short.

“Is that all ye care about? Yer uncle’s wealth and his estate? Have ye journeyed all this way just for the money?” Her outburst came quickly because she had bottled up her irritation since McCain made is announcement.

She had no intentions of marryin’, not anytime soon, and probably not ever. Her guardian knew this, so how could he make a will that asked her to go against what she wanted for her life?

How could he do this to me? Charlotte was slowly getting frustrated by the entire ordeal, but she did not want to show it.

“Miss Charlotte, ye misunderstand me,” the man started again. His eyes softened as she stared at him, fuming. “I am truly sorry for yer loss. Believe me when I say I am devastated about what has happened, but this is also very important to me. Yer uncle has entrusted ye to my care and I willnae let ye rest until ye fulfill his dyin’ wish.”

Her chest heaved as he explained himself, and when she saw his expression pale, she turned away from him again. “I am nae gettin’ married. If everythin’ goes to the poor, includin’ this estate, then so be it,” she said and crossed her arms over her chest.

“I dinnae think ye understand what is happenin’ here, Miss Charlotte,” he replied. “Uncle Jonathan left me specific instructions to ensure that ye wed and those instructions have naythin’ to do with his wealth. We get the inheritance if ye wed aye, but even without that, he begged me to make sure ye marry, and I intend to fulfill his dyin’ wish,” he said fiercely again.

Charlotte shook her head, determined not to listen to a word he was saying.

The heat in his tone made her fall silent, and their eyes met again. Her pulse spiked higher when he didn’t flinch. The manager did not tell her about the specific instructions to this man; even if he did, she still had no intention of weddin'.

Oh, Jonathan, why did ye have to make yer last wish something I cannae do?

“Miss Charlotte, let me help ye. I can find ye a suitable man that will see to yer needs,” the laird continued. “A man who will make sure ye are cared for. But I must be honest with ye too; my share of the inheritance will help my clan, which is the only important thin’ to me right now.”

“So ye would sell me off to get yer hands on the wealth? We both ken ye are doin’ this for yer own selfish reasons. Ye want my uncle’s coin, so ye will do anythin’ to make sure I marry even though I dinnae want to.”

“For heaven’s sake…” he started but stopped halfway. She watched him comb his fingers through his hair, then he squeezed his eyes shut for a second, and blew out air from his lips.

Charlotte noticed his exasperation, but she did not care. She raised a brow and waited for his outburst, but he instead shoved his fingers through his mass of black hair and then rubbed his hand over his face instead.

“Miss Charlotte I beg ye…”

“There is nay point, my laird. Jonathan kenned my thoughts on this. Ye will nay be able to persuade me, so I suggest ye leave. There isnae reason for ye to be here as nay amount of urging will make me change my mind.”

When he did not say anything, she strode to the door and held it open for him. “Please, Laird McCulloch, it is time ye leave.”

He did not move; instead, he looked at her again. Charlotte felt a tingle race up her spine, and she shivered slightly, not understanding where the sensation came from. Her lips suddenly went dry, and she swallowed from a sudden queasiness but still held her chin high.

Laird McCulloch closed the distance between them. She assumed he would walk past her and out of the house. Instead, his hands closed around her wrist, easily tugging her away from the door.

“I am nay leavin’ unless ye come with me, lass,” he said, his grip on her wrist tightening. Charlotte’s eyes widened from the shock of feeling the warmth of his grasp, and her heart started pounding faster in her chest. She inhaled sharply, but dragged in his thick earthy scent instead, and it made her insides come alive in a way she could not understand yet.

He leaned closer to her, and the pounding increased, making her dizzy. She couldn't understand why he affected her so much.

“What are ye doin’?” she asked breathlessly when he took a menacing step forward to close the distance between them. Charlotte stepped back until her back pressed against the wall. The wolfish look on his face made her tremble, and something fierce in his eyes screamed danger. “Let me go,” she protested and tried to break free from his strong grip, but he did not budge.

Charlotte’s mind reeled with thoughts of what she could do. The laird’s threatening look made her realize he would not back down. Sucking a deep breath to hide her nervousness, she raised her free hand in surrender.

“All right… I will go with ye, but I need to pack,” she said. “Wait for me,” she added. His eyes held hers, and she held her breath, praying silently that he would take the bait. There was no way she could go anywhere with him, but she could pretend to give in so he could give her some space.

When he is least expectin’ it, I will run, she planned in her head as she eyed him warily.

When he nodded and moved back, releasing her wrist, she nearly gave herself away by breathing out a sigh of relief. “It will take only a few minutes,” she said as she moved away from him to walk out of the chamber.

He followed closely behind her, but she kept her eyes straight ahead. The laird did not need to know that she had no intention of leaving with him.