Page 9 of The Highlander's Auctioned Wife
“What did he do to make ye so afraid of him?” In the distraction of getting ready for the evening’s supper, surprisingly excited to enact the first stage of her plan, Anna realized she’d forgotten to ask.
Jane frowned as if she didn’t understand the question. “He… dinnae do anythin’, M’Lady. He’s just so… awful.” She shivered though it wasn’t cold in the bedchamber. “Me grandmaither always said ye could sense a rotten heart when one crossed yer path. I never understood her ‘til today. That man—he… just feels evil to me.”
Looking back at her reflection, Anna mulled over her own encounter with the Devil of the Highlands, Laird Lyall. She’d discovered that his name was Gordon Shaw, though that seemed to be where the information ended, beyond the usual tales of his bloodthirsty massacres in battle, his apparent taste for human flesh to celebrate his victories, and a few sordid stories about him drinking the blood of virgins as part of some deal with theactualDevil.
He'd find mine very bitter,she mused, perhaps not as afraid of him as she should have been.
Rather than an inhuman creature, he’d seemed—to her—more like a man who no longer put much value in humanity, his tolerance for it lost somewhere along the years of his life. And who wouldn’t lose some of it, when all they did was flit from war to war, battle to battle, bloodshed to bloodshed?
He was intimidating, that went without saying, but he wasn’t… frightening, necessarily. If he’d wanted to hurt her in that passageway, he could have. If he’d wanted to grab her and steal her away, like Laird Dalmorglen had done with Elinor, no one would have been able to stop him.
But he let me go… and he’s still here.
“I really think ye ought to stay in yer rooms, M’Lady,” Jane urged, putting away the adornments that Anna had decided against. “I’ll stay with ye. I’ll ask Fogarty to put his best men outside yer door. We can stay here ‘til mornin’ and ye can be escorted wherever ye need to go.”
Fogarty was Anna’s father’s longstanding m an-at-a rms, and though it took Anna a second to figure out why Jane might be suggesting such a thing, she finally understood with a soft, surprised gasp.
“Nay…” Anna swallowed uncomfortably. “There’ll be nay need for that. I have a dagger under me pillow.Thatwill be enough. Indeed, I willnae be a prisoner in me own home for the duration of this auction. If any man tries to ‘grab’ me, all he’ll get is a blade through his heart.”
Violence is sometimes necessary.Gordon’s words echoed in Anna’s head, as did her insistence that she abhorred violence. But if a man crept into her room, meaning to take her away, intending to make her face the same fate as Elinor, could she bring herself to protect herself by those violent, necessary means?
“M’Lady…” Jane gasped, shocked by the declaration.
Anna put on a smile and adjusted her unusual headpiece. “Dinnae start faintin’ on me, Jane. I’ve seen ye lambin’ in the Spring. Ye daenae have a weak stomach.”
She’d meant it as a joke, but Jane wasn’t laughing. Rather, the maid looked very pale indeed, her gaze glazed over, as if trapped in a terrible remembrance: the memory of three years ago, no doubt. The night a different, beastly Laird had thrown her bodily into a wall so he could steal his prize without anyone raising the alarm. The healer had said, afterward, that it was a miracle Jane had survived unscathed.
“All will be well,” Anna hurried to add, taking Jane by the hands. “I promise ye, I willnae have to use that dagger, and nay harm will come to me. Me faither wouldnae make the same mistake twice.”
Although, hehasinvited a group of unmarried Lairds to an auction for me hand… in his castle, where any one of ‘em could easily try to cut past the procedure of the thing.Anna liked to think her father wasn’t so foolish that he hadn’t considered that, and would have defenses and deterrents in place to prevent it, but it still left a faint chill in her bones.
“I hope ye’re right, M’Lady,” Jane murmured, squeezing Anna’s hands tightly.
Anna smiled, replying with more confidence than she felt, “I ken I am, Jane.” She pulled the maid toward the door. “Now,come on—there’s a marked difference between makin’ a grand entrance and arrivin’ unforgivably late, and me faither will be watchin’ the clock.”
The low babble of chatter came to an abrupt halt as Anna swept into the feasting hall, her long skirts whispering against the flagstones.
Take a breath,she told herself, seeing her father’s shock and her mother cover her mouth with her hand, hiding a smile. Ewan’s expression reflected his father’s, while Jackson flashed a wide, approving grin.
But there were more people at the table than she had expected. Gordon was there, as anticipated, not looking at her at all. And there was another man, seated an empty chair away from Gordon: handsome in an ordinary sort of way, with wavy blond hair that curved around his ears, pleasant blue eyes, and a vague attempt at a mustache above his lip.
The unknown man jumped to his feet, bowing his head. “Good evenin’ to ye, Lady Anna.”
“And to ye,” she replied, moving to sit in her usual chair.
Her father blocked it with his hand, before she could pull the chair back. “Ye’re to sit between Laird Lyall and LairdGlendenning tonight.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Whatare ye wearin’?”
Anna ignored the question and, steeling her nerves, made her way around to the opposite side of the table. The newcomer, presumably Laird Glendenning, hastened to pull the empty chair out for her, smiling nervously.
“Thank ye,” she said sweetly.
“It’s me pleasure, Lady Anna,” Laird Glendenning replied, his freckled cheeks pinkening.
In any other gathering, among a usual congregation of men, the blond laird wouldn’t have looked out of place. He was tall, he was well built, he had an athletic physique, he was no younger than five-and-twenty, but beside Gordon, he rather resembled a boy. Diminished in age and strength and stature by the mere presence of the grizzled, bear-like man whostillhad not looked at Anna.
Jane, who was supposed to be eating her own supper in the kitchens, had evidently switched with one of the servants who was supposed to be serving. She appeared behind Anna, holding a large tureen of broth.
“M’Lady?” the maid asked.
