Page 14 of A Temptress in Tartan

“By you?”

“Nay,” Lachlan said, unable to keep the cold edge from his voice. “Perhaps. It would help if everyone stopped looking at Elizabeth as though she were the enemy.”

Cameron’s features darkened. “The Ruthvens started this whole feud thirty years ago when they kidnapped, abused, then murdered Rosie Douglas. It’s been a constant battle since then with the Douglases striking back followed by a Ruthven retaliation until fourteen years ago they murdered your parents. Ruthvens have been our enemy—the Sinclairs and the Douglases alike. How can your marriage to one slip of a girl change all that?”

“Elizabeth wasn’t involved in any of that personally.” Lachlan hesitated for a moment, then pushed his anger aside. “I cannot change the past. However, I can change the course of my future with Elizabeth. Not as enemies but as something more.”

“Judging by what I saw of the girl, that is a battle you might not win,” Cameron said, then finished the contents of his glass in one final gulp.

Lachlan’s anger flared as he set his glass aside. “I would not be a Douglas if I didn’t at least try.”

Cameron’s lips pulled up in a half grin. “You are becoming more like your cousins Reid and Quinn every day.”

Lachlan suddenly frowned. “I shall take that as a compliment.”

“’Tis how it is meant.” Cameron stood. “I’ve not seen this side of you before, my friend. You are becoming your own man, following your own counsel instead of staying in the shadows cast by your more famous cousins.”

Lachlan stood, matching Cameron’s gaze with his own steady one. “I am more determined than ever to move beyond the past.”

“I hope she is worthy of you.”

As Lachlan’s anger ebbed, a tiny bud of hope unfolded within. “Elizabeth is definitely spirited. Life with her will never be predictable. You said you were willing to give her a second chance, despite her name. And if that doesn’t work, perhaps you could give her a third as well.”

Cameron angled his head as he grinned. “I cannot decide if you are the most optimistic man I’ve even known, or a fool.”

Lachlan shrugged. “Perhaps both. Time will reveal all, I suppose.”

Cameron reached for the whisky bottle once more and poured a splash into both their glasses before handing Lachlan’s back to him. “Here’s to whatever your future brings.” Cameron lifted his own glass in salute. “Slàinte mhath.”

Lachlan joined his friend in a toast. “Good health to you as well.”

When their glasses were empty, Cameron said, “Since it appears you are not welcome in your own chamber at the moment, should I have a bath brought up for you here?”

“Nay,” Lachlan replied. “I had intended to bathe in the barracks.”

Cameron shook his head. “What kind of host would I be if I allowed that? I insist you clean up here.”

Lachlan nodded his gratitude. “Thank you, my friend.”

“No thanks are necessary. But just be forewarned, I do intend to keep an eye on your . . . what did you call her? Your unpredictable wife.”

Lachlan released his breath in a rush. “That makes two of us.”

Chapter Four

After Elizabeth had bathed and changed her clothing, she stood by the fire drying her hair. As she combed her fingers through the damp tendrils, she stared at her reflection in the looking glass, not liking what she saw. She couldn’t help but compare herself to the women belowstairs who seemed so refined, serene, and in control. Whereas her own face was pale and strained. Dark shadows appeared beneath her eyes from a lack of sleep over the past week. She did not recognize the woman looking back at her.

When did I turn into a stranger to myself? She’d done so many things in the past few days she wasn’t proud of. She’d almost taken her own life, had attempted to slit her husband’s throat, and her snappish behavior toward Lachlan was entirely out of character. A wave of self-loathing washed through her and she closed her eyes, fighting it. Her whole life had become a tumultuous mess. She didn’t know who she could trust or what to believe. Had her father and her clan told her the truth about their activities or their reputation? Or were the Douglases controlling the narrative by placing her in situations and around people supportive to them? Or did any of that really matter?

For the first time in her life she was free from the constraints of her clan. She could judge for herself what was real, what was the truth. She had to stop thinking of herself as a victim in this marriage and start taking charge of her own life, thoughts, and actions. She might be surrounded by strangers, but she was not alone, for she knew without a doubt that Lachlan would not abandon her despite how badly she’d treated him up to this point.

She looked down at her palm. The evidence of their pact had already started to heal. Was it time to at least give Lachlan a chance to prove her clan wrong as well?

When her hair was finally dried, Elizabeth paused. She should restrain her hair in a snood or in a knot at the back of her head as was the custom for married women, but she resisted the urge to do so. Was it because she didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that she truly was married? Or was it because she didn’t feel married? She frowned as she considered her options. In the end, she opted to place a lace veil over the top of her hair.

When she was done, she straightened. Her anxieties had settled and her fears had been tucked away for now. The ghost of her old self seemed to creep back into her skin as she made her way toward the door. Lachlan had said she was to meet him in the great hall. She knew if she stayed in the chamber much longer, he would no doubt come up to get her.

Without anything else to delay her, Elizabeth left the bedchamber and made her way along the corridor to the stairs. She started to descend then stopped when a movement at the bottom caught her attention. Lachlan stepped from the shadows and into the light.