Chapter 4 #2
The study seemed to shrink around him when his eyes locked on Miss Isobel Graham.
When he had dismounted in the courtyard moments ago and sent a prayer to the heavens for fortitude, his eyes had snagged on a lass lingering in one of the windows.
He’d thought it was the same lassie he’d encountered the day before at the creek, but now, his suspicions were confirmed.
In his anger the night before, Alasdair had thought of the lady at the creek as no more than a wisp of a woman and his initial assessment could not be contradicted now.
Miss Isobel Graham was petite. She was much smaller than her companion or mother and almost a full head and shoulders shorter than Alasdair himself.
Her figure was slight and pleasing but the way she stood with her arms crossed over her chest in a protective, defensive pose did little to highlight her slender waist or ample bosom.
Throughout the whole of his life, Alasdair had excelled at noticing a person’s weaknesses as well as their strengths and teasing them out so that he might use their gifts to his advantage, either on the battlefield or as they served the clan.
But he could not mark any distinct characteristics about his fiancée during this first… or rather second…encounter.
He observed the rumpled gown she wore, discerning that it was the same frock she’d had on yesterday when they first met.
This led him to conclude that she had slept, likely in an uncomfortable state, in the garment.
Furthermore, Miss Graham’s chestnut brown hair was wild and windswept.
This indicated she had spent the better part of the morning either riding through the woodlands or tossing and turning in her bed.
I’ll bet me eye teeth that the lass dinnae sleep a wink.
As that thought occurred to him, Miss Graham’s two-toned brown eyes found his own and she held his gaze unflinchingly.
It was then that he noticed the swirls of yellow at the center of those orbs, ringing her dark pupils.
The stark contrast, those spots of bright yellow, reminded him of the flowering witch hazel shrubs which grew on the edge of the garden near his home.
Alasdair would not be the first to break the stare and it seemed that Miss Graham was reluctant to cede her ground as well.
He allowed the left corner of his mouth to twitch slightly, silently showing his approval of her resilience, and that was when her cheeks flooded with a delightful swirl of pink and red embarrassment.
She remembers me.
“Laird MacRaeh.” Her father’s voice came out steadily, though Alasdair could hear the tremor beneath. “We’re honored by your…presence.”
The man paused and Alasdair bobbed his head quickly, acknowledging the greeting.
Thomas Graham nodded stiffly. “I appreciate that you made the trip in such a…a hurried manner.” He gulped as if unsure whether he should continue speaking or allow Alasdair to fill the silence.
“The letter from the Elders only arrived a short while ago and I thought…I thought I understood that your home was rather far from ours.”
Alasdair’s eyes slid toward Miss Graham’s.
“The distance is not so great.” He made a point of omitting the fact that he had been in the area the day before.
He did not know if Miss Graham had told her parents about the Highlander she’d met at the creek the previous afternoon, but if she had failed to speak of their encounter, he would not be the one to mention it.
“Ah yes…” These words came from Mrs. Graham, who stepped away from the desk slightly and fixed Alasdair with a small smile.
“Forgive me husband, Laird MacReah,” she said in a heavily accented tone.
“We used to spend time in the Highlands during the summer months, but it has been many years since we traversed the countryside. Mr. Graham has forgotten that our worlds are not so very far-flung.”
Alasdair nodded politely at Mrs. Graham. “Well said.”
Mr. Graham cleared his throat uncomfortably, then made a show of patting his desk. He sorted through the piles of papers noisily. Alasdair’s eyes turned toward the man.
“I…I left it here,” Mr. Graham muttered. He shoved aside a large scroll, then his fingertips fluttered over a document. All the blood leeched from his face as his index finger tapped the signatures at the bottom of the page. “Here it is.”
“The decree,” Alasdair breathed.
“Yes.” Mr. Graham coughed into a balled fist, then his eyebrows crinkled, showing his chagrin. “I think you will find the terms laid out plainly. They…they are clear and easy to follow.”
Alasdair grunted. “I’ve read the document. I ken what it is expected of me.”
“Of us.”
While her father fiddled with the parchment, smoothing his fingers over the creases and generally looking horrified by the edict, Miss Graham’s voice filled the room.
“Hmm…?” Mr. Graham questioned as all eyes, including Alasdair’s, flicked toward the lass.
“The decree places certain terms on the both of us,” she clarified, tipping her chin high and staring down her nose at the lot of them. “Within the next sixty days, we are to become man and wife.”
Alasdair could not explain why, but something about the haughty look on Miss Graham’s face combined with the clipped tone of her voice made his pulse quicken. With each word she spoke, his blood thrummed with excitement.
He was content to let her continue and it was clear that neither her father nor mother meant to interrupt.
“Since we have been granted a full two months, I see no reason to rush matters.” She swept her hand broadly, indicating the oversized armchairs near the hearth and the decanters filled with amber liquids on a side table. “Let us sit down and get to know each other properly before proceeding.”
Even though her invitation was sensible, Alasdair could not agree to such terms. Not only did his bones ache to return home, but he had a clan to tend, a McDonough brother to hunt, and this plot of the Elders to unravel.
If he meant to find out what the Elders wanted from him before the sixty days expired and he was required to bind himself to this English Rose for eternity, he would need to make every second count.
“I thank ye for the kindness, Miss Graham, but it is imperative that we depart within the hour.”
“The hour?” Mrs. Graham’s echo of his words was the loudest sound in the room. Alasdair turned to see the matron wringing her hands.
“Within the hour?” Mr. Graham appeared to be scandalized by the suggestion. “Surely my daughter requires time…”
“An hour is generous.” Alasdair’s eyes darted between the three Grahams before landing decidedly upon Miss Graham.
“If ye will lend us a carriage, we might make it to Dunalasdair in three days’ time.
” He tore his gaze away from Miss Graham long enough to take a quick peek out the window.
Grey clouds gathered on the horizon. “But that is only if the weather holds.” He returned his focused to his betrothed once more.
“You’ll need warm clothin’. The rest can be provided. ”
A flare of indignation sparked in Miss Graham’s eyes, causing Alasdair’s blood to sing once more. He took two steps away from her, unnerved by the involuntary reactions he was experiencing, and wishing to put some space between them.
“I cannot leave without…without…” Even though Miss Graham’s voice faltered, her chin did not quiver nor did tears appear at the corners of her eyes.
Show courage, Lass. That’s it. Be brave.
Alasdair was not sure why he felt inclined to silently support this lady who was just as likely to pierce him with a withering stare as she was to accept his hospitality, but he found himself cheering for her, wanting to test her mettle, and watch her succeed.
“Without what?” he prompted when none of the others rose to her aid.
“I shall pack my belongings and meet you in the courtyard shortly.” Miss Graham squared her shoulders and without waiting for Alasdair to give so much as a nod of approval, hurried toward the door.
He could not resist calling after her, “I’ll grant ye one hour…no more.”
Miss Graham halted abruptly and spun on the spot, causing her frock to fan out as she twirled. He could see the indecision flickering in her eyes.
Will she challenge me here and now or acquiesce?
The corners of Alasdair’s lips turned up, and it was then that Miss Graham said, upon seeing his smile, “I hardly think you will leave without me, Laird MacReah.”
He felt the playfulness in this taunt, so Alasdair replied, “I will not leave ye, but the carriage might.”
A flash of defiance darted through Miss Graham’s eyes. Alasdair felt the nonsense of his words. He knew that a carriage would no sooner leave Miss Graham behind than he would, but he had not been able to produce a sharper quip with such immediacy.
“If the carriage leaves, I will simply go to Dunalasdair on foot.”
Alasdair grunted. “Are ye an accomplished walker then, Miss Graham?”
“No,” she replied, “but I run faster than a hare.”
With that, she turned away from him once more and sashayed out of the room. He stared after her. Alasdair could not peel his eyes away from her retreating form.
It had been years since Alasdair had felt so disarmed by anyone, especially a lass, that he had to fight the urge to laugh loudly.
“Laird MacRaeh.” He pivoted to look at Mrs. Graham, who was addressing him once more.
“Aye?”
“Me daughter…she is distraught. She didnae mean what she said just now.” The lady took a handkerchief from her pocket and used the corners of the fine cloth to dab her cheeks. “She wouldnae run from you…from this arrangement. She…”
“Dinnae fash,” he inserted. “If Miss Graham fancies a run, I will delight in catchin’ her.”