Page 35 of The Laird's Masked Passion

It was there, though he hid it poorly beneath that grim MacKenzie stillness. His eyes held hers across the small distance between their chairs, and the approval in them was not indulgent. It did not pat her head or make a pet of her defiance. Itrecognizedit.

That recognition struck somewhere deep in her, where anger had been keeping watch. She looked away first, not because she was defeated, but because she feared she might soften.

The meal ended with spiced pears and oat biscuits she scarcely tasted. By then the hall no longer stared quite so greedily. Some still whispered. Some still measured her. Murdoch remained suspicious, though now with the wary respect one gave a knife found hidden in a sleeve. Breac, she thought, decided to be amused by her, which was not acceptance but might be made useful.

When the final dishes were cleared, Colin stood. The room quieted instantly.

“Me wife,” he announced, and the two words passed through the hall like a drawn line, “is lady of this house. She is tae be treated as such.”

Elspeth’s spine stiffened. Every face turned to her again. She could feel resentment in some, curiosity in others, a few grudging nods from those who valued strength wherever it appeared.

Colin’s gaze swept the room once. No man spoke. Then he offered Elspeth his hand.

She looked at it. To refuse would be satisfying for a heartbeat and foolish for longer. To accept would tell the room she had yielded… unless she made it clear she had not.

She placed her fingers lightly in his and rose as though granting him a favor. His thumb brushed once over her knuckles. Her breath caught, and she hated him for noticing.

As they left the hall, whispers began again behind them. She was afraid. She was far from home. She did not know whether her mother lived safely, whether Robert Munro would strike again, or whether the man beside her would prove enemy, husband, or something far more dangerous.

But she would not be small for them. She would not bow beneath their curiosity. If the MacKenzies wished to test their bought bride, then they would learn this much first: Elspeth Fraser had not chosen to come among them, but neither had she arrived empty-handed.

She brought her fear.

She brought her fury.

And she brought a tongue sharp enough to make even Highland suspicion bleed.

CHAPTER TEN

Colin learned long ago that silence was often more dangerous than shouting. A shouting woman had a grievance she wished heard. A silent one had already begun arranging the knives in her mind.

Elspeth had been silent from the hall to the chamber. She walked beside him with her chin lifted and her hands clasped before her, every inch the insulted lady, though he felt the tension in her even through the space between them.

At dinner she fought with smiles, parried with courtesy, and left half his household wondering whether they had been challenged or entertained. She did not once ask him for rescue. She did not once look at him as if she expected kindness. Now, within the privacy of their chamber, she stood near the bed as if it were an execution block.

Colin shut the door. The latch had barely settled before she turned her head toward it, quick as a hare hearing a hawk. She tried to hide the movement at once, pretending instead to examine the fire. But he saw it. He saw everything tonight: the high color in her cheeks, the stiffness of her shoulders and theway her fingers worried a fold of her sleeve until she caught herself and folded her hands again.

He crossed the room and began unfastening his belt. Elspeth went still. Colin drew the leather free and set it upon the chair. He had no intention of terrifying her. He wished only to remove his boots, his doublet, and the day’s noise from his bones. Yet when he glanced at her, she had the look of a woman watching a wolf take polite steps toward the fold.

He pulled his doublet from his shoulders. Her face turned crimson.

“Ye may breathe,” he said dryly.

“Iambreathing.”

“Nae well.”

Her mouth tightened. “I was unaware ye had appointed yerself steward of me lungs.”

He almost smiled.

He laid the doublet aside. “I am merely concerned they may surrender before ye dae.”

Something fierce flashed in her eyes, but beneath it was fear and not the useful sort, sharpened by danger and made ready to strike. This was an older fear, an instructed fear, one seemingly placed into her hands by someone who had thought herself merciful for warning her.

His amusement cooled. He sat to remove one boot, then the other. When he stood again, Elspeth moved. At first, he did not understand what she was doing. She had gone to one of the chests, taken a strip of linen from it, and now stood with thegrave determination of a woman preparing for siege. Her hands shook only a little, which somehow made the sight worse.

“Elspeth?”