Chapter 3
CHAPTER THREE
Blair felt sick when he’d first seen Ada rush out of her father’s study.
He’d overheard some of the words between them, and then when she’d emerged, not sparing him a glance, he thought he’d notice a glisten of tears in her eyes.
And so, even though he raced after her to her room, he stayed outside for a few moments to allow her some peace.
He did not like to see anyone hurt, for when she did, it was like a knife to his gut.
It is only because me duty is tae protect her.
It was what he’d always told himself from the very first day. He had to tell himself that, or he’d go mad if he spent time on the other option. He looked down at his boots, waiting, afraid that she might choose that moment to escape down a hidden passage, but he did not yet want to disturb her.
She is tae be married.
He’d been told as well, only hours before, and he hadn’t yet had time to think of it. But now that he stood alone with Ada on the other side of the door, it hit him. She was going to be married. She was going to leave, and he might never see her again.
Good. It will stop these wild thoughts from enterin’ me head.
But he knew that those wild thoughts would not let him rest even when she did leave. The thoughts of wanting her would only be replaced by thoughts of hating the man she married, wishing that—
Ye are a fool, a bloody fool.
Believing that enough time had passed, he turned and knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Ada said almost cheerfully, and when he entered, he paused in the doorway, seeing that she was brushing her hair while sitting at her dressing table. “Well, come in all the way.”
Through the looking glass, he could see her rolling her eyes at him, and he shut the door, barely able to breathe.
It was frustrating that her father forced him to stay inside the room with her in order to guard her properly, for it only reminded him of her beauty, her ease when speaking to others, her humor, and every other bloody thing that made her irresistible to him.
One of his favorite features of Ada's appearance was her hair.
It was the perfect shade of red, with auburn highlights running through it, and when she brushed it, it caught the sunlight streaming in through the window.
To him, it sometimes looked like spun gold.
To distract himself from staring open-mouthed at the vision before him, he uttered, “Ye ken that yer father will force ye tae come back upstairs and change intae a proper hairstyle. He will nae allow ye tae keep it down. Yer betrothed is comin’ in a few hours.”
Even saying the word made him hate the man, whoever he was.
But why? It is nae as if I should ever think tae be with a woman like that, a laird’s daughter.
It was the same thing he’d always told his best friend when Cameron would tease him about Ada.
Why should he, a blacksmith’s son, think himself worthy of her?
It didn’t even bear thinking about. And the fact that his friend had married her sister didn’t do anything to sway him.
Cameron had turned out to be the secret son of the neighboring Laird Grant, but there was no secret lairdship waiting for Blair.
Just the dark and terrible past… and Finley.
A little tingle of fear crept up his spine as it always did whenever he thought of the name. His fingers twitched with the memory of his dark deeds.
Nay. Stay here. Stay in the room with Ada, far, far away from the darkness.
“I dinnae care, Blair,” Ada said.
Her voice brought him back from the darkness and into the light. She brushed her hair once more before facing him. The dark ginger tresses hung over her shoulders, caressing areas on her he'd considered touching far too often. He forced himself to look into her eyes.
“I will dae as I please,” she said, her dark brown eyes flashing at him. She took a step forward, and he would have stepped back, but there was no space. There was only the door behind him.
“I’m sorry,” she said, reaching up to touch a finger to his cheek.
He winced, and she pulled her hand back. “About the scratch,” she said, still standing close to him.
Blair had forgotten that the damned cat had scratched him. He swallowed and then cleared his throat. She was far too close to him for him to be able to think straight, but he had to try.
“Are ye ready tae go down?” he asked, not recognizing his voice. “Or would ye like tae stay here?”
Ada put her hands on her slim hips and chewed the inside of her cheek for a bit, assessing him with her eyes, always sharp and ever watchful.
“I dinnae think ye have a single idea of what I want, Blair MacDougall,” she said, and then when his mouth fell open, she sighed. “Let’s go.”
He quickly pulled open the door, and she strode out before him, not looking back. Trembling a little, he shut the door and walked after her, wondering what her words had meant.
Why should he know what she wanted? Why should she care if he did know or not?
In that moment, it seemed like she was angry at him and not in the usual way he saw daily.
There was something deeper, like something she’d held in for a long time.
As they entered the main hall, he heard voices, and then with surprise, he saw a young man standing next to the laird.
The blaigeard has come early, I see.
“Och, we have been blessed with a surprise!” Laird MacPherson said, an uncharacteristic smile on his face as he patted the young man on the shoulder. “Ada, come here and meet yer betrothed.” He waved to his daughter.
Blair could see the tension in her back as she walked towards the pair, and Blair’s fists clenched at his sides. He nearly touched the sword on his hip, but he restrained himself. He kept to the side of the hall and watched the interaction.
“Ada, this is Irving, Laird MacIntosh’s son.” Laird MacPherson smiled at his daughter, and Ada curtsied.
“A pleasure tae meet ye, Irving,” she said with a stiff tone.
Blair would have been amused at her sudden good behavior if he wasn’t so angry at the man standing before her.
He was tall with blond hair and broad as well.
When he smiled at Ada, it was wide and charming, and Blair could tell he was handsome and thought so of himself. No doubt many lasses thought so too.
Shite.
Ada was still shaking a little from her interaction with Blair in her bedroom when the blond, tall man appeared in the hall far earlier than expected. He was handsome, too handsome for his own good. One might even call him perfect. And this is exactly why she hated him.
“It is a great pleasure tae meet ye, Lady Ada. Yer father has told me much about ye, and now that I have seen ye with me own eyes,” he paused and lifted her hand to his lips, “I ken that all those good things are true.”
Ada cleared her throat, a little uneasy at the long look he gave her. But it was to be expected, was it not, that her betrothed should find her attractive? He was certainly good-looking enough but in a very ostentatious way, a way that made it certain he knew it.
He has likely been told many times about it.
His smile was almost smug, and it made her wary of him.
“Ye are very kind, sir,” she said in an uncharacteristically polite tone. If it was not so tense a situation, she could imagine that Blair might laugh at her.
As if he would crack a smile.
“Come now, we shall dine together,” her father said, clapping Irving on the back and leading him to the table. “I have already ordered that a fine meal be served tae celebrate yer arrival.”
Servants brought wine, and Ada sat reluctantly at the table on the other side of her father. It brought her fully into Irving’s line of sight, and occasionally she caught him looking at her. Each time she did, he smiled with his perfect white teeth.
“Yer father wrote that he was too busy tae make the journey, lad,” her father said as the first wine was poured.
“Aye, he thought it best I go alone, for there are a few land disputes goin’ on at the moment amongst the farmers, many borderline discussions.”
“I see.” Graeme nodded. “Well, it is a disappointment that ye cannae be there tae assist. For that will certainly prepare ye for takin’ over the lairdship when yer father passes.”
“Ye are quite right, Laird MacPherson. But dinnae worry. Me father is preparin’ me now that I am old enough. He has been ill from time tae time of late, and so he has been worried that he will pass before his time.”
“I am sorry tae hear that,” her father said, and Ada merely took another long sip of wine.
If her betrothed was going to be laird soon, that meant she would soon be a lady, a lady of a clan and a castle. The idea was attractive, if not also frightening, because it meant that finally, perhaps, she might have some freedom over her daily choices.
And maybe father will start tae see me more as a grown woman and nae a child he likes tae imprison. Nae that it will matter, since I’ll be gone in MacIntosh Castle.
“What dae ye think about it all, Lady Ada? Will ye mind livin’ a few hours away from yer family?” Irving asked.
She looked up from her plate of food and glanced at him.
It felt odd that he should speak so assuredly about the marriage, and he did not seem fazed that she had not been asked for her opinion on whether the marriage should take place.
Instead, two men had made the decisions about her life, and she had simply been told that it was going to happen. Men are such an arrogant tribe.
“Nay, I should nae mind,” she said with a quick look at her father.
In fact, the farther the better, although she knew it would be hard to be so far away from Ella.
“That’s good. I would nae like tae get married and then find out that me bride is so unhappy that she is far away from her family.” Irving started to laugh, as did her father, and Ada frowned, looking over to Blair out of habit.
She felt left out of the joke, and even though her glance was automatic, it was almost as if Blair had expected it.
He was watching her already, and when caught in his gaze, she could not look away.
He appeared stiffer than usual, which was truly saying something, and with his hands folded tightly in front of him, he stood tall with his chin lifted.
Even from a distance, she could tell that his jaw was tight.
What a specimen of a man, so strong and powerful.
Realizing how it must look for her to stare at Blair so, she tore her eyes away, wishing that she could be anywhere else.
She wondered why she was not being rude to her guest or railing against her father’s dictates.
It was so unlike her. But the moment with Blair in her room had shaken her, and she was not yet able to be herself.
She’d stepped close to him, even touched him, and she’d wanted to do more.
His hands had hung limply at his sides, although he did not appear unaffected by her closeness. In that moment, she’d wanted nothing more than for his hands to be on her, to pull her close and tell her that he could think of nothing else but her.
Wait, what? Get yerself together, Ada.
“Lady Ada,” Irving said again, causing her to jolt out of her thoughts, and her hand hit against her wine glass, sending it to the floor with a crash.
Och, for the love of God.