Page 55 of Midnight Conquest

Her breath left her in a rush, as if Broderick’s words had slicedthrough her defenses like a knife carving through soft butter. His insight resonated deeply, more than anything she’d been able to reason out on her own. Memories flashed through her mind—her father’s stern gaze, always stifling her ambitions; her uncle’s patronizing tone, dripping with condescension; her husband’s relentless grip on every aspect of her life, tightening like a vice. Even her beloved brother Kehr, with his well-meaning but firm instructions on how she ought to behave, had tried to mold her into something she wasn’t. She had always thought it was about control, but now she saw the truth—it was fear. Fear of her strength, fear of what she could become if she were truly free.

But Broderick wasn’t like them.

“You’re not afraid of me,” she said softly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Why?”

Broderick’s expression gentled. “Because I’ve nothin’ tae prove, Blossom.” He lifted his hand, brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek. “Women dinnae threaten me, Davina. They inspire me. Especially you.”

His thumb gently brushed against her skin, sending a tingling shiver cascading down her spine. “In fact,” he said, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet room, “I think a woman like ye is a rare and beautiful challenge. And a great asset. I told Tammus as much.”

Her heart twisted, and her chest tightened with an emotion that was raw and unfamiliar, like a new melody stirring within her. For the first time, she felt truly seen, not as a mere source of wealth through her dowry or as an example of polite decorum, but as her own person, with her own unique essence.

A small smile tugged at her lips, and Broderick’s gaze dropped to her mouth.

“Och, woman,” he muttered, voice rough. “Ye’re a temptation,to be sure.”His fingers lingered against her cheek, eyes dark and gleaming. “Ye’d best not smile like that in front o’ yer suitors. One look at that sunshine, and they’ll be beggin’ tae bask in yer light.”

The sound of the front door slamming shattered the moment. Davina jerked back, her cheeks flaming as she put distance between herself and Broderick.

Tammus entered the room, his brow lifting in surprise. “Ah, there you are,” he said, his gaze flicking between them. “Our guest has arrived. Come to the foyer and meet him.”

Davina’s stomach tightened, her nerves coiling like a spring. She glanced at Broderick, who gave her an easy, reassuring smile.

“Here we go,”she thought, squaring her shoulders.

With a deep breath, she followed Tammus out of the study.

Broderick trailed after Davina as she followed Tammus into the foyer. He noted the subtle straightening of her posture, the lift of her chin—the transformation of a shrewd, sharp-tongued woman into one of courtly grace. Aye, she was putting on a show, and a damn fine one at that.

Tammus stopped near the base of the staircase, where the guest stood waiting. Broderick’s gaze swept over the man, cataloging him in an instant. Tall and lean, with aristocratic features polished as fine as a silver goblet. Blond hair, fair skin, and eyes the color of a summer sky. Handsome, in a way that was almost too perfect—pretty, even. Soft, like a painting that had seen neither dirt nor blood. The lad’s clothes were just as pristine, the fabric too fine and the seams too straight to be anything but expertly tailored.

Ewan Hugh Gordon, second son of some laird fromAberdeenshire. Tammus said the name with enough pomp to choke a horse, tacking on the man’s father’s titles like they were a bloody sermon.

Broderick shifted his weight, towering over the room like a shadow. Ewan didn’t so much as glance in his direction. His attention was fixed entirely on Davina.

And who could blame him? She was radiant, curtsying with a grace that would’ve made a queen jealous. Her skirts swished gently as she dipped low, her cinnamon-colored hair gleaming in the candlelight. When Tammus introduced her, Ewan’s face lit up like a lad unwrapping a Yule gift.

Broderick’s jaw tightened.

Ewan stepped forward, sweeping Davina’s hand into his own. His lips brushed her knuckles, lingering just long enough to be polite, but not long enough to cause scandal. The sly lift of his brow and the honeyed compliment that followed were so practiced that Broderick almost laughed. Charm oozed from the man like sap from a tree—sticky and cloying.

Behind Ewan’s back, Tammus looked smug enough to burst. Broderick rolled his eyes, careful to keep the motion subtle as he shielded his expression.“Both of them are so full of themselves,”he told Davina silently.“I’m not sure I can stomach more than a few minutes of this.”

Her lips quirked into a grin, but she played it off as though she were smiling at Ewan’s compliment. “May I introduce my personal advisor and friend, Broderick MacDougal?” Davina said smoothly, gesturing toward him.

Ewan turned, his gaze skimming Broderick like a man inspecting a muddy boot. His eyes narrowed slightly as they climbed the length of Broderick’s towering frame, lingering on the broad shoulders and the dark linen shirt. When Broderickextended his hand, Ewan hesitated. The pause was brief but telling.

Finally, Ewan offered his fingers, his grip limp and fleeting. The contact lasted barely a second, but it was enough.

Broderick’s mind flooded with flashes—images of lush rooms at court and lavish brothels, polished shoes and silken sheets. The lad was fond of playing politics and equally fond of his dalliances. Men and women both, though always the expensive sort. Although he did have his eye on having many wee bairn. Interesting.

“Ah, yes,” Ewan said, his smile tight. “The protective friend Tammus mentioned. Rest assured, sir, Lady Stewart will be in safe hands.”

Will she now?Broderick thought, but he kept his expression neutral.

Davina stepped in smoothly. “Broderick will be joining us for collation,” she intoned lightly.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Ewan,” Tammus interrupted. “I’ve some urgent business to finish in the study.”

Tammus winked at Ewan, clearly granting the couple a moment alone—without his looming influence. That was a relief, and one less thing Broderick needed to worry about.

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