Page 36 of The Highlander's Temporary Bride
“I saw the tension between the two of ye last night when ye arrived, lass.”
“What?” Emma asked, echoing Grant’s thoughts.
“I’d received word that me son was returnin’ home, and here he rode, with ye on Balfire. If I didnae see such a thing with me own eyes, I wouldnae have believed it.” Brenda’s voice softened. “He cares for ye, but that cannae last forever, lass.”
“I—no. I’m just… I’m here to help him in return for saving my life. Help him win over his bride.”
“Are ye? Is that his plan?” Brenda asked, and Grant thought he heard a trace of amusement in her voice, until she continued. “And ye dinnae fear the trouble it might bring?”
“It’s for seven nights,” Emma said.
Grant wanted to scoff. It almost sounded as though she were trying to convince herself.
“Aye, and in that time, ye must keep yer distance.” He heard some shuffling. “Lady Emma, I apologize for being so forward, but I beg ye to hear me. The Queen doesnae look fondly upon any Scottish laird, least of all me son. She has chosen whom he will marry, and defyin’ those orders will only bring more trouble to our clan.”
“I-I did not even want to come.”
“Well, ye are here,” Brenda pointed out, and her voice was so sad that Grant leaned against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. “And we must reckon with that, but I cannae lose him again, lass. I cannae.”
“Again?” Emma echoed, her voice sharp and fearful. “What do you mean?”
Grant pushed off the wall and stepped around the corner. His mother had Emma’s hands in her own, and they were both gazing at each other.
“Does it have anything to do with his hoarse voice?” Emma asked quietly.
“I—oh.” Brenda’s eyes went wide when she spotted Grant.
“If ye are so curious, Emma,” Grant drawled, and Emma whirled around. “The polite thing would be to ask me, I believe.” He prowled forward and glared down at her. “Rather than runnin’ like a coward. I’m nae sure if I care for this habit of yers.”
Emma flushed with outrage and made to leave, but Grant caught her arm. He looked at his mother and waved his hand, then shook his head.
I ken that ye are tryin’ to help, but this is me business,he told her with his eyes.
Brenda nodded, then hurried away.
“That is no way to treat your mother,” Emma scoffed. “She cares for you.”
“Aye, more than ye ken,” Grant returned.
“So,” Emma said, her eyes narrowing. “If I asked, would you tell me?”
Grant sighed and went to run his hand through his hair, only to be hampered by Emma’s discarded napkin. “Probably nae.”
“I—oh.” Her eyes flicked to his hand. “Your hand. The blood.” Emma took a step back, bumping her back against the wall, and shook her head. “I did not realize you were hurt, My Laird. We s-should…”
“Shite,” Grant cursed and moved quickly to keep her from falling to the floor. “Ye are unwell again. Kyla said?—”
“No, you must go see Kyla,” she whispered. “Please.”
“Ye must lie down,” Grant retorted and tried to steady her.
Her fingers made a weak attempt to curl into his sleeves. “No, I can… and you…”
“Enough.” Grant scooped her up into his arms.
Emma curled against him, shivering and murmuring soft protests, which he ignored as he all but ran through the halls. In the back of his head, he knew he should take her to her rooms, but his were closer.
When they got there, he kicked the door open and strode inside, before he gently laid her on the bed. Then he called for a maid, who appeared in the room a second later.
