Page 25 of A Sinful Night with a Scot
“She is indeed, a bonnie lass, is she nae?” he said, exaggerating his tone a little too much.
“She is beautiful, me laird,” a voice called out from the crowd.
“She is indeed,” another added.
“We are very much in love, are we nae, me darling?” he cooed, smiling down at her and delighting in her beaming red cheeks.
Elspeth was trying hard to hold her composure. It was clear she was determined to remain aloof, but she failed badly, and as her lips broke into an embarrassed smile, she struggled not to laugh.
Whether it was nerves, or the fact that he was acting ridiculously, Keane could not know. Nor did he really care in that moment, for her reaction to his arm around her waist and him pulling her in closely to him was highly amusing.
There was something else swirling within him, however. Something he tried to fight, to push down, to deny. He did not want to accept what he was feeling, but while he fought against it, his heart seemed to be fighting back, and he had no choice but to admit that he was far more interested in Elspeth that he ought to be.
Glancing to his left, he noticed Alisdair standing off to one side, gazing at Keane knowingly. His best friend knew him better than anyone, and clearly, by his expression, he seemed both amused, and at the same time, rather satisfied with what he saw. Alisdair had called him out earlier, and now, he smugly watched on from afar, likely knowing that this was not entirely an act.
Elsie was a little caught up in the moment, and with the laird’s arm wrapped tightly around her, she really did not know if she ought to laugh or cry. It was one thing, being forced into a marriage and travelling with a group of men who knew the situation. It was entirely another, standing in front of a crowd of kindly villagers who evidently held their laird up on a pedestal.
She had been completely bewildered earlier, listening to their praises and gratitude. While she had seen glimpses of his attentiveness, for the most part, she had experienced him as abrute. Clearly, that was not how his people saw him at all. Nor was it a delusion. She had witnessed the grateful thankfulness of a mother who loved her son dearly with her own eyes, and she certainly wasn’t the only one.
And yet, she struggled to reconcile the man they worshipped with the man she had experienced. He was a paradox, like night and day. If he was such a great laird, why had he been so wickedly cruel to her? It didn’t make sense. And, if she put her bias aside, it was clear those in the village had seen the real Laird Mackay. If that was the case, who had she experienced, and why?
“Thank ye all fer yer kind congratulations, but now, I must see tae another matter,” Keane said.
The villagers nodded, and slowly dispersed back to their homes and whatever it was the people had been doing before their group had arrived.
Keane then waved Alisdair over, and turning to her, he said, “Elsie, I need ye tae stay with Alisdair until I return.”
Elsie’s heart jumped as she gasped and gawked at him for a long second.
“What?” he frowned.
“Ye called me Elsie,” she said, feeling utter astonishment.
Perhaps he was not the cruel brute she imagined he might be. Maybe, the pressure of this whole situation, avenging his father’s death, had brought out the worst part of him, and now they were nearly at the castle, she was going to see the real man he was.
But then he smirked down at her. “Me mistake, Elspeth.”
Elsie’s face dropped as quickly as her hopes and heart, but Keane either didn’t notice, or didn’t care, for he turned to Alisdair who now joined them.
“Stay with Elspeth,” he instructed. “I am away tae speak tae Jonathan Barnes.”
“As ye wish,” Alisdair replied.
Keane then turned on his heels and headed down the main track of the village with a determined stride, leaving Elsie feeling even worse than she had before.
“Ye’re trying tae decide if ye like him or hate him,” Alisdair said beside her.
“I certainly dinnae like him,” Elsie spat, as though the very idea of such a thing was ridiculous.
“Aye, but ye cannae hate him either, can ye, lass?”
The man smiled at her knowingly, but Elsie turned her gaze away for fear he might see something she was battling within herself. On each occasion the laird did something that surprised or impressed her, he nearly always, immediately afterward, ruined it by being a complete arse.
“We’ll be heading tae the castle soon,” Alisdair said. “It might be better fer ye.”
“In what way?” Elsie frowned.
Alisdair shrugged. “Well, ye’ll have a chance tae get used tae the life there. Some stability rather than being on the road with a bunch o’ men.”
