Page 47 of Bound to a Scot
“Ye ken what I think?” Maddox asked.
“I’m sure ye’re goin’ tae tell me.”
He chuffed. “I think Burchard wants tae catch us doin’ somethin’. ‘Tis why he’s always puttin’ us together like this and watchin’ us like a hawk. ‘Tis like he’s hopin’ somethin’ will happen.”
“But fer what reason?”
“That, I dinnae ken. But he seems like a man who enjoys playin’ with people… puttin’ people in uncomfortable positions just tae amuse himself.”
Emmeline nodded. “Aye. That’s true.”
She glanced over at Burchard and when she found him staring back at her, eyes cold, face tight, she felt her face grow warm and her stomach turn over on itself. She took a quick swallow of wine to wash the lump down and tried to gather her wits. There was something evil in the way he looked at her and it sent a cold chill down her spine. Burchard was a cruel man. He seemed to take great pleasure in making her life hell, but through all the torment, the verbal and emotional abuse, she had never truly feared him. Not until she saw the look he’d just given her.
Emmeline was well used to his hard gazes and accusatory eyes. But she had never seen the sort of dark, burning rage and promise of retribution she’d just seen. There was something sinister in the way he’d stared at her. Something that made her think, for the first time since they’d been wed, that it would make him happy to not only see her dead but to be the one to wield the blade that took her life.
“Are ye all right?” Maddox asked.
“Aye,” she replied, her voice quavering as she fought to keep from looking back at Burchard. “I’m fine. Let’s just finish our meals and get on with our tasks.”
Maddox’s eyes lingered on her, concern etched upon his features. But he lowered his gaze back to his plate and turned back to his meal.
The tension, however, was growing thicker. It was cloying and made it difficult for her to breathe. She wanted nothing more than to run from the hall and lock herself away in her bedchamber. She wanted to get away from Maddox’s longing eyes and Burchard’s baleful looks. She wanted to shut the entire world out.
But she did nothing. She remained where she was and Then, Emmeline felt the oppressive presence of Burchard approaching long before he arrived. It felt like the air had become stifling—heavy and charged with the potential for destruction. She looked up as he stepped over to them.
“I trust yer meals are fillin’ yer bellies sufficiently,” he said.
“Aye, me laird,” Emmeline replied demurely.
“’Tis very fine fare,” Maddox agreed. “Thank ye again fer yer hospitality.”
He waved the man off with a magnanimous look on his face. “Think naethin’ of it. Ye’re soon tae be me son in law, after all.”
“Aye,” Maddox replied softly.
“I just wanted tae let ye ken that I’ll be away on clan business soon,” he told them.
“Where are ye goin’ then?” Emmeline asked.
“Away on clan business,” he replied coldly. “I expect that I’ll be away fer several days.”
“Is there anythin’ I can dae tae help, Laird Macfie?” Maddox asked.
“Aye. Ye can stay here and oversee the preparations fer yer engagement feast,” he replied. “I’ve left a list of things that need tae be done with Laith, so ye can see him fer that.”
Maddox inclined his head. “Of course. It’d be me pleasure.”
“Emmeline, I need ye tae go intae the village. Go and see Myra. She should have Cecilia’s dress ready by now.”
“I can have one of the servants go and fetch it,” she said.
“I asked ye tae dae it,” he snapped. “If I’d wanted one of the servants tae go and fetch it, I would have told one of the servants tae go and fetch it.”
Emmeline lowered her gaze. “Of course. Apologies, me laird.”
He sighed. “’Tis me daughter’s weddin’ dress. I dinnae trust anybody else tae fetch it fer me.”
It was a rare explanation from the man, he usually gave orders and simply expected that they’d be followed. And she supposed it made sense, but that didn’t mean she liked being ordered about. Nor did she like the reminder of Cecilia—and Maddox’s—pending nuptials. Wanting to avert any more trouble with Burchard though, Emmeline nodded.
