Page 18 of Seduced By the Reckless Highlanders
Murdoch did not push the point. “You certainly are a good archer,” he observed. “Who taught you that skill?”
“I have been doing archery since I was ten years old,” she replied. “One of the guards took pity on me because I had no playmates, and he began to teach me. He put up that old target there.” She nodded toward the tree. “He was killed in battle, but I was able to carry on practicing by myself. I pride myself on being quite skillful now.”
The whole story was a work of fiction, but it was convincing enough for Murdoch to believe.
At that moment, a shaft of sunlight broke through the trees and illuminated Keira’s neck and shoulders, which he had not been able to see in the dappled shadows. Now a pattern of bruises that exactly matched the spacing of four fingers and a thumb was clearly visible. Shocked, Murdoch bent forward to look more closely at the injury, and instinctively he knew whose fingerprints had been responsible for the marks. It was obvious that someone had been trying to choke Keira, perhaps to death.
“Who gave you these bruises, mistress?” Murdoch demanded angrily, glaring at the marks. “Whoever it is, they should be horsewhipped. Tell me and I will make sure they pay for their cruelty.”
All his life, Murdoch had despised men who used violence, especially violence against women, to settle their scores. To him, the fact that men were bigger and stronger made it his duty to protect women, not harm them.
“I was not aware of any bruises.” Keira touched her neck, then gave a groan of pain. She flushed with anger again as she realized that the staff and the guards would be able to see the telltale marks. How would she be able to explain them away? Yet perhaps the truth was already obvious to them and they were keeping quiet out of respect.
She sighed. “My father gave them to me. He was angry with me about some…situation. This is his way of expressing himself. You are right. He should be horsewhipped.” Her voice was bitter.
Murdoch was aghast as he stared at the bruises. They were still faint, but in a few days they would become deep purple and very difficult to hide. He felt helpless, and his first instinct was to find the laird and beat him senseless.
“Any man who strikes a woman is not a man at all,” he growled, then tried to think of something practical. “Is there not some cosmetic you can use to hide them?” he asked. He knew little about such things.
“Of course,” she replied quickly. She did not want to delve into the matter any further because it was too upsetting. “I have many such preparations. Don’t worry on my behalf.”
“I must tell you something.” He looked away from her into the forest. “There is a rumor that your father killed your mother. Have you heard about that?”
“I would rather not speak of it!” she snapped angrily. “It is my family’s business.”
“I understand.” He nodded slowly. “Forgive me for upsetting you and making your day worse. It was not my intention.”
Keira was staring at her hands, trying to wish herself into a peaceful place where only she and her mother existed. No one else in her world had ever meant so much to her, not even Moira.
“Mistress?” Murdoch’s deep voice interrupted her thoughts, and she looked up, straight into a pair of leaf-green eyes. He looked as if he had been about to say something, but nowhe seemed mesmerized as though something about her had captured his attention and would not let it go.
For her part, Keira stared back, looking just as stunned as he did. What was this current that kept passing between them? She did not have enough experience of men to understand, but her body knew. Every nerve in her body was tingling, and her secret place was throbbing in a way that she found unsettling but delightful.
She wanted him. Moira had explained the way desire worked on a woman’s body, what everything meant, and where it led. What would it be like with this man who epitomized the word masculine? It was in the depth of his voice, the power in his body, and his roughly drawn but extremely handsome features.
“Being with yer husband can be the most wonderful thing in the world, hen,” Moira had said as she brushed Keira’s hair one morning. “Or the most miserable thing if ye are wi’ the wrong man.”
“Like Adaira and my father,” Keira had said gloomily. “I pity that poor young lady every day.”
“But it doesnae have tae be like that wi’ ye an’ the man who is lucky enough tae marry ye.” Keira could hear the smile in her voice. “Me and my Alec were happy for thirty years before he passed, an’ I still miss him.”
Keira put her hand over Moira’s. “I hope I find such happiness,” she said sadly, because she knew of no one in the upper classes who had been so fortunate. Most ladies merely did their duty and produced baby after baby for the clan. A few even loathed their husbands.
“When ye find the right man, ye will know it,” Moira had replied. “He might no’ be very tall, or handsome, or rich, but he will be just the right fit for ye.”
Keira was thinking about Moira’s words now. Tall, handsome, and rich. Murdoch was certainly tall and handsomebut not wealthy. However, her mother’s lover had not been wealthy either, and he had also been a handsome guard. Perhaps the trait of finding desirable guards ran in the family.
Murdoch simply could not tear his gaze away from Keira. He had been about to tell her how lovely he thought she was but decided that it would sound foolish and fawning. His gaze strayed to her lips, and he hardened instantly, then squirmed in discomfort and embarrassment. What kind of animal would Keira think he was if she noticed?
“I am sorry I snapped at you earlier.” She looked up, and her face was a mask of sadness. “My mother died when I was ten. I took it very badly, but luckily I had Moira and my father’s next wife, Catherine. We were fond of each other, but she died in an accident. Moira has looked after me ever since. I have thought of running away many times, but I knew that Moira would bear the brunt of my father’s wrath, and I could not risk that. As well as that, I have lived in this huge place all my life, with servants and guards to look after me. How would I survive on my own? I would not last a week. So I stay and hope that one day I will be able to kill the miserable swine who masquerades as a father.”
Murdoch was appalled at the hatred in Keira’s voice and her eyes. What could her father have done to inspire such loathing?
His face must have given him away because suddenly Keira asked, “You think I am evil?”
“No,” he answered, shaking his head. “I am sure that if your father was sweet and loving, as most fathers are, then you would not be so bitter. But we cannot alter the past, mistress. However, the future has still to happen. You are in control of that, at least. Do you think killing your father is a good idea?”
Keira was silent for a moment. “I know you are right,” she conceded, “but I wish he would just…disappear. He has some plan to marry me off to some English nobleman. No doubt he will be tremendously rich and equally ugly. Wealth and uglinessalways seem to go together. The best I can hope for is that he is a good man and treats me with kindness.” Then, abruptly, she changed the subject. “Do you have a family?”
