Page 11 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

She turned to leave, her heart still racing, but then he caught her wrist gently. Not to stop her, only to slow her one moment longer.

"It was nice meeting ye, Skye MacLeod," he said, his voice quiet enough that only she could hear.

She pulled free and hurried off into the dark without looking back, though she could feel his eyes on her the entire way.

“I’ll visit yer braither soon, lass,” he called after her, just loud enough to make her stumble a step. He chuckled.

Skye slowed down, but the people wandering up the path barely gave her a second glance. They were far too caught up in their conversations to care much what she was doing.

She was able to slip back inside without much fuss, only to bump right into Emily.

“Skye, wherehaveyebeen?”

Her breath caught in her throat. “I went for a walk.”

“In this weather?”

“I took me shawl, Emily.”

Emily cast her a dubious look. “Ye daenae expect me to believe that, do ye?”

“It is the truth!” Skye whisper-hissed. She had already drawn enough attention that night. She didn’t want any more.

“Nay, Emily and I ken that isnae the truth.”

Well, maybe Emily could tell when she was being dishonest, but in truth, Skye had never been particularly good at lying.

“If ye must ken, I went to speak with?—”

“I kent it. Ye spoke with the Lion of the Highlands,” Emily interrupted. “Have ye lost yer mind?”

Skye fisted her hands into the skirt of her dress in frustration. “I wanted to explain about the stories.”

“Skye, ye didnae say it was ye who wrote them, did ye?”

She grew quiet, unable to meet her sister-in-law’s gaze.

“Skye,” Emily gasped in disbelief and horror. “Ye didnae.”

“I had to, Emily! I felt bad enough that me story started rumors about him again. To me, it was just a story with interesting characters, but the Highlands meant more to me than that.”

“He could ruin ye for this. Ye ken that, do ye nae? A lass writing such things! And a well-bred one at that. Yer braither would be mortified.”

“He willnae tell anyone,” Skye insisted.

“And ye believe that because he told ye so himself?” Emily pressed a hand to her temple like she was warding off a headache. “Skye, the man is called a monster for a reason. Ye cannae simply trust him because he smiled at ye in the dark.”

“He didnae smile. Nae really,” Skye said, hesitating. “We made an arrangement.”

Emily went still. “What sort of arrangement?”

“A betrothal, a false one,” Skye explained, the words tumbling out faster. “He helps me finish the story, and I help him fix his reputation. A month, and then it’s done. We both go on with our lives.”

Emily gaped at her as if she had sprouted another head. “A month? Skye MacLeod, ye cannae be serious. How can ye even think about agreeing to such a thing?”

“I am entirely serious,” Skye asserted. “And I have thought it through.”

“Does Freya ken about this?”