Page 10 of The Highlander's Auctioned Bride
He had found her conduct amusing, which surprised him. He rarely found a woman who spoke to him with any level of defiance, yet despite now knowing who he was, she didn’t seem demure around him. Quite the contrary.
His father’s stoic face drifted through his mind.
What would he think of this performance?He wondered.
James felt his teeth grind together—his father would likely find it laughable that his son had to go to such lengths to secure a bride. It was not as though the late laird hadanytrouble on that score.
“—and we have long since been eager to attend an event here, m’laird. We are most grateful for ye extendin’ the invitation to our Fiona.”
James glanced down at the girl’s mother, who was almost as forgettable as her daughter. He nodded, gave a shallow bow, and turned away from them all with a murmur of apology.
The strange truth of it was that Miss Brown reminded him of his younger self. Her posture was firm, as if ready for battle. She seemed strong, independent, and quite unlike the swooning ladies that surrounded him now.
James found himself fantasizing about her golden curls. Were they soft? How were they scented? He wanted to run his fingers through them, bring his nose up to her crown, just to find out.
He shook himself, surprised at his reaction, trying to think what it was about her that had sparked it. It was almost as though, in only a few short minutes, she had seen more of who he truly was than any other.
She was fighting her lot in life with everything she had, and she clearly had no interest in fighting for his hand.
I respected her.He realized.She had fire inside her.
There was the loud ringing of a bell from the entrance of the castle and James kept his face blank as Marcus stepped forward.His arms were spread wide to the crowd of men and women who were present.
“Me lords, ladies and gentlemen, please come inside. The feast is ready, and we have quite an evening ahead of us. Today, we decide who will become the future Lady MacLennan, and I know we are all eager to begin! Follow me, please.”
The crowd began to slowly walk up the steps to the castle, and James hung back. He didn’t want to be seen to be rushing to find his bride in the throng.
He watched Miss Brown ascend the steps with her father enjoying the opportunity to run his eyes over her curves. She was different from the other women in the party, less elegant, less refined somehow. He supposed if he told her as much, she would take it as an insult, but he meant it as a compliment. He was so bored of the women he had to converse with on a daily basis. Hardly any of them had anything about them or simply agreed with everything he said. He had a feeling that his garden snapdragon would revel in defying him.
He liked the idea of seeing those intelligent eyes darken with interest, perhaps even lust. He wanted to see that stubborn mouth melt into desperate need. What would she look like if she had to beg him? What might she look like on her knees, all that righteous anger focused solely on him?
He shivered. She certainly had presented herself as a unique prospect. Every other woman present could have been a carbon copy of Lillian.
He grimaced inwardly as his eyes moved to Lillian. The young blonde moved through the crowd, talking to Bram Wallace as she walked behind her aunt.
She was Marcus’ niece, and James had known her all his life. But he had never even considered the idea that they would wed. Marcus and many others might favor the match, but James would not take a wife purely to keep the peace.
Lillian was too young, too naïve for the likes of him. Not to mention, he was far too stern for her. He had never been able to hold a conversation with her without getting instantly distracted. She spoke of nothing but how much she admired him, or her love of his castle and his lands. It was as though someone had given her a script that she was reading word for word just to impress him.
Miss Brown did not speak like that. She challenged him, questioned him. Made him think.
He huffed out a breath as the last stragglers entered the hall and he caught Marcus’s eyes as he approached him.
“All well, m’laird? Ready for the feast?”
“I dinnae ken why I allowed ye to convince me of this,” he muttered.
Marcus gave him a firm slap on the shoulder and chuckled.
“How else would ye find a wife,” he asked under his breath. “Ye are busier than ten men. This will all turn out well, so come along. At the very least, once it is decided the rest of the council will never be able to ask when ye will wed again.”
James scoffed. The man had a point. And with that advantage in mind, he went inside to find his bride.
Maisie stared around her at the great hall and tried not to gape. It was a beautiful room—incredibly grand, with high ceilings and ornate stone carvings at every corner depicting monsters and birds of prey.
The MacLennan colors adorned every wall in large, pointed banners on either side of the high windows. The cheerful golds and greens lifted the darkness of the stone, making everything seem welcoming and warm.
A huge fire roared behind the high table with two long swords crossed above the mantel and a boar’s head mounted on a shield above them, its white fangs pointing to the ceiling.
