Page 12 of A Temptress in Tartan

“We were prepared for your arrival yesterday,” Cameron Sinclair said.

“Our late arrival couldn’t be helped. We had a bit of misfortune on the road,” Lachlan replied as he stood before his friend and struck his chest with his fist once in salute before they came together in a sudden embrace. It triggered an eruption of cheers from those gathered. The red-haired woman once again clutched Lachlan’s arm, keeping him by her side.

“Well, you’re here now,” Cameron said over a swelling of whispers from those gathered as their eyes turned to Elizabeth, who yet stood alone.

A chill came over her when she saw she was forgotten no longer as she remained by the carriage where he had left her. The expressions of those gathered ranged from curious to hostile. And the red-haired woman’s lips pulled up in a satisfied smile.

“It is good to see you, Mariam, but you must excuse me.” Lachlan released himself from the red-haired woman’s clutches and walked back to Elizabeth’s side, offering her his arm. He cast her a smile before guiding her back toward Cameron Sinclair himself. Around them the crowd had fallen silent. “Cameron, may I present to you my wife, Elizabeth.” He turned to her and said, “This is Sir Cameron Sinclair.”

Elizabeth was all too aware of everyone staring at her. The red-haired woman glared. Ignoring her, Elizabeth looked to the other ladies who were all so regal and elegant, with nary a hair out of place, while she was certain she looked like a wild banshee with her brown hair mussed from their travels. Regardless of her appearance, she curtsied, then straightened, waiting to see along with the others how the laird would respond to a Ruthven in their midst.

The dark-haired laird studied her intently. He seemed to sense her fear as he took one of her icy hands in his own and lifted it to his lips. The soft salute was followed by a smile. “You are welcome, Elizabeth. Here you will only be known for who you are now, not who you have been,” Cameron said.

Elizabeth’s cheeks flamed at yet another piece of evidence that her family and their reputation were not as stellar as she’d been taught. Until she learned the truth for herself, she would keep silent. “Thank you, my laird. That is very gracious of you.”

Cameron looked down at her with compassion in his eyes. “Everyone deserves a second chance. Consider this yours. Lachlan is a good man. He deserves a devoted and loving wife.”

At his words, Elizabeth’s gaze slid to Lachlan’s. She was neither of those things at the moment. And perhaps she never would be. She had no time to think further on the matter when Lachlan slipped his arm around her waist and urged her forward into the castle and away from the crowd. “Come, let us clean up from our travels, then rest before supper. We have another long day ahead of us on the morrow.”

Elizabeth allowed herself to be ushered forward. Her body felt heavy and her mind weary beyond words. Her troubles would still be with her in the morning, but mayhap after a bath, a meal, and a night’s sleep she would be better able to face them.

Inside the castle, Cameron led them along a richly paneled hallway hung with tapestries and portraits of centuries of Sinclair family history. Lachlan and Cameron chatted along the way, but she paid no mind to their conversation as they passed several rooms—a library, a receiving room, a solar, the great hall. At the end of the long hallway they climbed a set of stairs and continued down another hallway until they stopped outside the open door of a large bedchamber. “Your room,” Cameron said.

As they stepped in, Lachlan turned to her and for a heartbeat she forgot to breathe. The setting sun filtered through the arched window of the bedchamber, giving the large room a strange, yellowish glow. She watched as the light limned her husband’s hair, making it nearly gold where the unruly locks curled against his temple.

A similar light flared in his eyes. She’d seen that look in the eyes of other men before, and it had always unsettled her, but in this instance, she felt an even greater panic. They would spend yet another night alone together. And this time she wouldn’t be thinking murderous thoughts. If she wasn’t thinking of murder, then what would she be thinking about? Her mouth went dry as she tried not to look at him.

“I’ll have a tub sent up so you can clean yourselves before our evening meal,” Cameron said with a bow, and closing the room’s door, leaving them to themselves. At the sudden thought of being alone with her husband while he bathed, Elizabeth clasped her arms tightly around herself, hugging her suddenly shivering body.

Lachlan did not miss her response. His smile turned stiff. “Why are you still afraid of me? I’ve vowed not to harm you.” Something flickered in his eyes. “I am a man of my word, Elizabeth.”

“And why should I trust you? I am surrounded by strangers. I have no idea who I can trust except myself.”

“I’ve assured you that you are safe. Now stop this nonsense and get yourself ready for first your bath and then supper.”

Elizabeth backed up a step. “It was obvious upon our arrival that just as you said . . . they all hate me—a Ruthven. I have no intention of subjecting myself to more of their hostility by attending a supper tonight.”

Lachlan’s featured darkened. “You are my wife, and as such I insist you accompany me. I will make certain no one abuses you in any way.” His expression softened. “I’m sure you will feel better once you’ve had something to eat.”

She squared her shoulders. “I’m not hungry. Besides, I do not feel well enough to eat.”

His brow arched. “Well then, if you are ill, it is my husbandly duty to remain here with you and see that you sustain no further hardship.”

“After a bath, I plan to go to bed.”

A gleam came into his eyes. “I would be delighted to join you.”

“You are a swine.” She frowned. “I am not so feverish that I’d think to want to bed you.”

He folded his arms over his chest, his features growing darker once more. “Then you’ll come to supper with me.”

“You cannot force me.”

He took a step toward her. “Is that a challenge I hear, my dear wife?”

“If you touch me, I’ll scream.”

He shrugged. “Do so. As you so elegantly pointed out, we are surrounded by people who know me far better than they know you.”