Page 8 of The Highlander's Auctioned Wife
“If ye think it so foolish to make yerself amenable to a lass whose hand ye’re seekin’, then perhaps this isnae the tournament for ye,” she replied defensively, though she wouldn’t look at him. “I can show ye back to the gates if that’s yer opinion of the situation?”
He neither moved nor spoke, watching the rhythmic rise and fall of her bosom. He had disarmed her again and, clearly, she wasn’t used to the feeling.
“Ye wouldnae lose any of yer pride,” she said, at last. “Nay one else has arrived yet. Ye can leave without anyone kennin’ ye were here.”
“I’m nae leavin’,” he replied bluntly, almost insulted that she would think he might depart without getting what he’d come there for.
She cast him a sideways glance, frowning as if he wasn’t speaking the same language as her. “Very well, but let it be kenned that I saidnothin’about seduction. That’s nae what I expect or…want,even.”
“So sure that it wouldnae be welcome?” he said, taking another step toward her.
He might not have known how to woo her, but he could definitely make their first meeting memorable. A pre-emptive strike that would grant him an advantage over his absent competitors.
She blushed furiously, taking a few steps backward. “It’s nae what’s… important to me,” she insisted in a breathy voice. “Iwant to see—nae that ye asked—if there are any truly worthy partners to be found among the Lairds who’ll be joinin’ this auction.”
“To what do ye pin worth?” he asked, his voice showing none of his intrigue, though he realized he wanted to know her answer.
To get what I came here for,he told himself, for it would be to his benefit to improve his chances of success.
“They can all fight and kill, M’Laird,” she replied firmly. “And, aye, I’ve nay doubt they can seduce any lass that captures their attention. But can they take care of a lass? Can they hold an interestin’ conversation with a lass? Can they promise to make forever a pleasant thing instead of a prison sentence? At the very least, can they make a lass laugh?Theseare the things I pin worth to.”
“Laugh?” He walked closer. “I have to make ye laugh?”
With every step he took, she took a backward step of her own, until her back collided with the wall of the passageway. Flushed and flustered, her breath quickened as she raised her gaze to him, those plump, pink lips parting in the most tempting way, her throat moving as she gulped.
“If ye can,” she murmured.
With that, she pushed off from the wall and ran off down the passageway, back to the open space of the entrance hall, and the safety of being near others. It would have taken Gordon a matter of moments to catch her, if he’d wanted to, but he let her go.
After all, if the victor of this “ auction” was someone who could make her laugh, then he had a lot of thinking to do before he saw her again.
I wouldnae ken where to start…
In truth, he figured it would be far easier to just kill every other Laird who came to vie for her hand, rather than find a way to make her utter a single chuckle.
CHAPTER 5
“What do ye think, Jane?”Anna asked, observing her reflection in the mirror.
For the evening’s events—a simple supper in the feasting hall—she had decided to try something a little… different. She hadn’t wanted to dine with her family at all, but her father had insisted, so she had settled on her own manner of compromise.
“I think ye shouldnae go down at all,” Jane replied, shuddering. “I can tell yer maither that ye’re nae feelin’ well and she can tell yer faither. He willnae say aught about it once he’s already in the hall.”
Anna met her own eyes in the surface of the looking glass, taking a defiant breath. “If I’m bein’ forced to do this, then I’m doin’ it me own way, and that doesnae include hidin’ up in me chambers.”
Much as I’d like to stay here with me supper on a tray and a book in me hand…
If she had to put on a façade of being a willing participant in this entire wretched debacle of an auction for her hand, then so be it. She would put on the performance of her life, and she would do it well, so her father wouldn’t be able to accuse her of sabotaging the endeavor when it all fell to pieces.
She smiled, imagining the scene: her, in feigned tears, lamenting the fact that no Laird had stayed, that no Laird had wanted her hand in the end. Oh, how she would wail and pretend to weep, crying out,“I daenaeken what I did wrong, Faither. By summonin’ so many false ghosts in the past, I must have truly cursed meself.”
That done, her father would have no choice but to let her do as she pleased, giving up the idea of her marrying entirely. He would turn his efforts toward Ewan, perhaps Jackson too, and she would be the secret Lane spinster that no one dared to talk about.
“But, Lady Anna, that… monster will be down there,” Jane whispered, like she didn’t want to speak his name, in case it summoned him to the room. He was the Devil, after all.
Anna turned to look at the maid. “What did he do to ye, Jane?”
“Pardon?”
