Page 26 of A Temptress in Tartan

She inhaled sharply and a shiver ran through her.

For a heartbeat, he gazed into her eyes as though looking for proof of what she denied before he dropped his hand to his side. “Do you need to refresh yourself or shall we be on our way?”

“I am ready to go.”

“Very well. We won’t stop until we reach Whittingehame.”

Chapter Eight

The purple light of dusk veiled the world around them and Elizabeth worried that they would not make it to the castle before nightfall. The journey to Whittingehame had been as grueling as Lachlan had predicted. He’d ridden beside her, but he’d uttered not a word. Was he lost in thoughts of what lay ahead for them once they reached his home? For that was where her thoughts began and ended. What would happen once they reached their destination?

Half an hour later as the sky changed to a purplish gray a square, battlemented keep, three stories high appeared ahead of them. A woodland spread for miles behind the structure and a river flowed past on the west. The land of her new home was not only beautiful, it appeared to be fertile as well.

“’Twas built three hundred years back.” Lachlan finally spoke to her as they passed through two barbican towers with gates swung wide open as if in welcome. Behind that came a portcullis with its massive grille of iron spikes. As they continued forward, a guardsman saluted Lachlan. An instant later, the metal gate came down to seal the entryway behind them.

The clip-clop of horse hooves echoed all around them as they crossed over the planked drawbridge and entered the outer bailey. “On a clear day,” he continued, raising his voice to counter the sound, “the view extends as far as Arthur’s Seat to the northwest. The woodlands are good for gaming, and there is plenty of water flowing through the glen below. The castle is an easily defensible fortress. In case you were worried about such things.”

“That is nice to know in case my—”

“In case your father should attack?” he finished her sentence for her.

Elizabeth’s eyes went wide. “You knew?”

“I knew he’d been following us since we left Falkland Palace. ’Tis another reason we traveled by sea. Your father and his men could not follow without exposing themselves.”

“I did not ask them to follow me,” she replied defensively.

“I do not blame him. Or you.” He turned his attention back to the path they traveled through the bailey. “I would do the same in his position.”

Elizabeth frowned. “What will you do when he does arrive?”

“Talk to him like the warriors we are, and hopefully come to a resolution that doesn’t involve either of our deaths.” He turned to her again, this time his eyes filled not with anger, but with possession. “You are my wife, Elizabeth, and no one will hurt you again, including your father.”

Her breath stilled in her chest. “What if his motives are less than honorable?” She wouldn’t put it past her father to make her a widow with all due haste.

“We are on my land and in a fortified castle. My army is far more numerous than your father’s current retinue. He knows that. He’ll not engage in a battle he knows he cannot win.”

She dropped her gaze to her horse’s white mane, desperate to look at anything other than the man beside her. He had confused her for days now, and that confusion was only growing worse. “You’re far more trusting of my father than I am.”

“Time will tell,” he replied. “In the meanwhile, welcome to your home.”

Elizabeth lifted her gaze to look at the castle around her as they slowly proceeded through the outer bailey. Stables occupied one full length of the outer courtyard along with the animal pens, smokehouse, smithy, salt house, falcon mews, and guardhouse. Lights shone behind the shutters. At their approach, the windows swung open and curious onlookers followed their movements.

The inner courtyard was smaller with the kitchen, laundry, barracks, and servants’ quarters taking up much of the outer walls. An entrance to the main living quarters within the castle stood open as though anticipating their arrival. A heartbeat later, Elizabeth could hear the excited murmur of voices as they came to an abrupt stop. Men and women spilled out the doors, coming to greet their laird and his new wife.

Two servants rushed up to gather the reins of their horses while Lachlan slipped from the saddle and came to her side. He reached up, assisting her down. As her feet hit the ground, she swayed ever so slightly. Lachlan must have noticed because he kept his hands at her waist while she steadied herself.

“Lachlan! You’ve returned.” A tall man who looked almost as though he could be her husband’s twin rushed forward to greet them. A woman with brown hair and an eager smile followed at his side.

“Reid? Lucy?” A smile transformed Lachlan’s face. “I didn’t expect you to be here when you could not come to the wedding. Did Quinn and Vivian have their baby?”

“Vivian had twins two days ago,” Reid said with a grin. “The day you were married to Elizabeth. That must be a good omen if there ever was one.”

“Twins?” Lachlan’s eyes went wide.

Lucy nodded. “A boy who looks very much like Quinn, and a girl with fiery-red hair just like Vivian. They are called Alexander and Lilian.”

Lachlan’s concern deepened, etching fine lines around his eyes and mouth. “Was that why Vivian’s labor was so hard, and why they sent for you?”