Page 24 of The Highlander's Auctioned Wife
Gordon glanced back from where he walked, leading the stallion by the reins. “Eh?”
“I willnae marry ye without due consideration,” she explained at a clip, hoping he couldn’t hear the worry in her voice. “I want us to spend… a betrothal year together, to see if we’re indeed a good match. Otherwise, I might well be wanderin’ into a marriage that doesnae serve me, which has been me concern all along. Ye wouldnae want me to deem it a mistake later, now, would ye?”
A fleeting relief swept through her veins as the words left her mouth, feeling better now that they were out in the open. It wasn’t so unusual for a couple to have a lengthy betrothal though, judging by the frown on Gordon’s face, it wasn’t what he’d expected.
I cannae be wooed so easily,she told herself, steeling her resolve.
“Ye need more convincin’?” he asked, raising his eyebrow.
There was no mischievous smirk or sly look, but she knew what he meant. Her cheeks flushed with warmth, remembering the searing press of his lips against hers, the glide of his tongue, the rough touch of his hands, the heat of his body pushed flush to hers.
It wasnearlyenough to make her forget the betrothal period altogether but, thankfully, some sense still clung on, warning her that she might regret it later if she didn’t take care now.
“M’Laird, ye might be able to… kiss me well,” she replied, blushing furiously, “but I’d be remiss if I dinnae make certain of yer intentions. I need to ken that ye’re nae marryin’ me for the same reason everyone else is comin’ to seek me hand. Bein’ nothin’ but a vessel for bairns isnae somethin’ I’ll marry for, nay matter how nicely ye kiss.”
“I willnae ride back and forth for a year,” he said bluntly.
Anna didn’t consider herself to be a foolish sort of lass, but she couldn’t deny the slight sting of disappointment upon hearing that. She imagined tales of old, where chivalrous knights would cross treacherous terrain to reach the woman they adored, or ride to a secluded spot in the forest every night to steal just a moment with their beloved.
Perhaps, a seasoned warrior wasn’t quite the same thing as a chivalrous knight of old.
She cleared her tight throat, shunning such silly ideas. “I’m nae suggestin’ I stay here and ye stay at yer castle. I mean, we can spend a betrothal yeartogether, at yer castle. Betrothed but nae married, until the end of that time is done.”
He returned his attention to the near horizon, and the castle that was getting ever closer. She didn’t need to see his face to know he was frowning as he considered her suggestion.
“A year is too long,” he replied, a short while later.
She swallowed. “Six months, then?”
“Yer faither wanted a weddin’ by the end of the auction,” he pointed out, annoyingly. “That would have been nay more than a fortnight from now.”
She couldn’t deny the truth of his words, much to her chagrin, but she imagined she would have given the same suggestion to any other laird who’d happened to “ win” her hand. She needed time. She didn’t want to rush something that would shape the rest of her life. Surely, he could understand that?
“Aye, I suppose that’s true,” she muttered, pulling on the skirts that were sticking to her legs, loosening the wet fabric. “So… how about this? Before we marry, we must have… um… five engagements, in order to get to ken one another.”
He looked at her as if she were speaking a foreign tongue. “Five engagements? Ye only get one, lass, unless ye mean to be engaged to five different lairds.”
She covered her mouth with her hand, but she couldn’t hide the sound of her stifled laughter, nor could she swallow it in time. For a man so intimidating, so capable, there were clearly some things he wasn’t so knowledgeable about.
“I daenae mean engagements as in betrothals, M’Laird,” she hurried to say, still smiling. “I mean engagements asin… occasions, meetings, rendezvous. Five planned, organized meetings where we can learn about one another better. If ye happen to have a secretly romantic nature, those would be the times to display them.”
She flashed him a wink that seemed to puzzle him further, and threatened to bring another chuckle to her lips. If she had told him to plot a war against the English, she imagined he’d have found it to be a simpler task than planning a romantic rendezvous.
Could I have a marriage without romance?The thought troubled her, but she had only to think back to what had just happened to believe that there wassomeessence of romance in him. Of passion, certainly.
Besides, she would have the five engagements to figure out if what he could offer was enough.
She took a breath, soothed somewhat, even though he hadn’t yet agreed.
“So, five days?” he said, reigniting her slight panic.
“Nay!” She coughed, quietening her voice. “We’ll have one occasion every week, so our betrothal should last… well, five weeks.”
Aye, I can manage that. That’s long enough to ken what I’m gettin’ meself into.
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “And thenwe marry?”
“Andthenwe see if we’re truly a good match for each other,” she replied, her voice edged with a note of exasperation. “If we are,thenwe marry.”
