Page 139 of Laird of Smoke
As brave as Eve usually was, Deirdre intimidated her.She gulped.How would the laird receive the news that her nephew had wed without her permission?
The king had approved the marriage.That should be enough.
Still, Eve bit her lip, and her fingers fumbled with the scroll.
The fair-haired lad looked up from his work, noticing the rolled parchment.“What’s that?”
“Ian,” the lass beside him chided, “don’t be rude.”
“I’m not rude.I’m curious.”
The lass detected Eve’s hesitation.“Is that for the laird?”
Eve nodded.
“Ma!”Ian called out.
Eve was mortified, especially when Deirdre’s gaze turned her way.
The lass shushed Ian, then turned to Eve and murmured, “I’m Isabel, the laird’s daughter.Come.I’ll introduce you.”
Eve followed the lass, who had all her mother’s beauty, but was as sweet as the laird was fierce.
Isabel whispered, “What’s your name?”
“Eve.”
“Laird Deirdre, may I present Sister Eve.”
Deirdre’s appraisal was swift but thorough.She was obviously used to sizing up her adversaries with a single glance.“Sister.”
Eve could tell Deirdre was not impressed with her.And though she understood why, it rankled at her.This was not who Eve truly was.A cowering nun who jumped at her own shadow.A shrinking sister who turned the other cheek at any affront.A humble agent of God whose only purpose was to serve.
She was Eve MacAnndra.Merchant’s daughter.Outlaw.Irish noblewoman.Archery champion.She straightened her spine.“M’laird.”
“The sister seems to have some business with you, Ma,” Isabel said.
“Is that so?”
“Aye, m’laird,” Eve said, presenting the scroll.
Deirdre looked at it, but was in no hurry to take it.“What is it?”
“’Tis a marriage document.”
Beside her, Isabel let out a gushing sigh.“I knew it!I knew it had to be something romantic!”
Ian growled and rolled his eyes.He clearly didn’t share his sister’s love of romance.
Deirdre was more practical.“A marriage document between whom?”
Eve took a deep breath and forced herself to hold the laird’s gaze.“’Tis an agreement between Lady Carenza o’ Dunlop and…Sir Hew du Lac o’ Rivenloch.”
Isabel let out a squeal of delight.
Deirdre’s face turned to ice.“Agreed to by whom?Bythem?”
The laird had likely had enough of her offspring marrying whomever they willed.After all, even her own marriage had been arranged.
