Page 58 of Laird of Smoke
Eve was glad to be seated beside Pitcairn, with Adam on her other side.That way she could respond quickly to the laird’s questions without fretting Adam might blurt out something ridiculous.As Lady Aillenn, she’d enjoyed many suppers with noble strangers.She knew what questions were likely to be asked.And she had answers at the ready.
“So what brings ye to Scotland, m’lady?”Pitcairn asked, stabbing a large chunk of mutton from the pottage and shoving it between his teeth.
She opened her mouth to give her usual reply.She’d fled Ireland because her father had betrothed her to a withered old soldier.She would not return until she secured a husband of her own choosing.
And then she realized that her usual reply wasn’t going to work.Not with Adam portraying her husband.
In her instant of panic, Adam rushed in to fill in the story.
“We sought an audience with the king to discuss a possible match for Aillenn’s sister, Lady Blinne.”
Eve’s throat tightened.She was impressed.He’d remembered their sister’s name and that Eve had mentioned a meeting with the king.He’d even come up with a believable mission.But would Pitcairn believe it?
Indeed he did.In fact, his sudden interest in the idea gave his eyes a greedy shine.
“Is that so?”he asked, swallowing the bite of mutton.“But o’ course she couldn’t be as beautiful as Lady Aillenn?”
“No one is as beautiful as Lady Aillenn,” Adam said.
The ladies at the table sighed.
Eve knew he was only making flattering conversation.But something about the tone of his voice almost made her believe him.
“My husband is blinded by love,” she replied with modesty, placing a hand on his sleeve.“My sisters are far more beautiful than me.”
Pitcairn almost spit his wine.“Sisters?Ye have more than one?”The prospect of an alliance with a beautiful Irish bride chosen by the king was likely compelling.
“Aye,” Adam replied.“Two o’ them.Blinne and Caitilin.”
Eve was still on edge, despite the fact he’d recalled their names correctly.She took a sip of wine to calm her senses.
“Tell me about them,” the laird urged.
Eve described them as she’d invented them, exaggerating their beauty a wee bit to keep him interested.
“And your father?”Pitcairn asked.“Is he eager to see them wed?”
“Oh, aye.”She thought quickly, placing her hand atop Adam’s.“Ye see, as the eldest daughter, the next in line for Tiarna will be my husband, Ronan.”
How curious to say that.My husband.She’d never portrayed a character with a husband.The words rolled with pleasing ease off of her tongue.
“But my father,” she continued, “would like to see my sisters wed to Scottish noblemen.”
“I see.”Pitcairn swirled his wine thoughtfully.Clearly he was weighing his odds of wedding into Irish royalty.
Meanwhile, the ladies, fascinated by Ronan, quizzed him.
“How long have ye been wed?”one of them asked.
“Two…” he said.
“Months,” she supplied, though in retrospect, she thought it might have been better to say “years.”
“So ye’re newlyweds,” another exclaimed.“How wonderful.”
“Were ye betrothed?”the first lady asked.“Or was it a love match?”
“Betrothed,” Eve replied.It was the easiest answer.
