Chapter 6
“Nora made Andrew scared, Crey!” Laurie laughed, gleefully clapping her hands. “He looked like he was goin’ to wet himself.”
Creighton gave a quick smile, which Nora guessed was for his sister’s benefit. His eyes flickered to the door behind them. His door.
He couldnae possibly guess, she told herself, as firmly as she could manage. He’s got nay idea what I intended to do.
“Did she, now?” he murmured thoughtfully, his gaze resting on Nora. She forced herself to stand cool and calm, not looking away.
I am nae afraid of him, she told herself firmly. He might be tall and dangerous and perhaps a little imposin’, but I have skills and secrets, too. I need to remember that.
It was hard to remember it, but when he stared at her so intently, dark eyes piercing into her soul, it made her shiver. In a good way, if that was possible.
“I think I’ll have a wee word with Nora, Laurie,” he said abruptly, flashing a smile down at his sister. “Go on back to the feastin’ room and finish yer breakfast, aye?”
Laurie pouted. “But…”
“None of that,” he chided, more gently than she would have thought possible from him. “Go on. Off ye go. We will see ye soon.”
Laurie sighed, glancing wistfully up at Nora. “Very well.”
Nora gave her an encouraging smile, and the little girl skipped off down the hallway, carefree and happy.
Once she was out of sight, Creighton turned slowly to Nora and gave a frosty smile.
“Let’s step into me rooms for a moment, aye?”
Before she could object, he placed a hand on her shoulder—the same warm, heavy hand he’d pushed against the small of her back, back at the Festival and propelled her toward the door. It clicked open, and she stumbled into a dark, dusty space.
The first thing that Nora noticed was that Laurie had been right. She would never have found those reports in this mess.
Books, maps, and trinkets covered every surface, with plates, cups, and goblets scattered among them, some still holding wine dregs.
And papers! Piles of papers leaned against the wall, piled on desks, and stacked on chairs.
Papers were spread across the bottom of his bed, rumpled and untidy, jammed into the corner of the room.
The curtains were half-closed, letting in a beam of light.
Daylight pierced through the gloom, illuminating dancing motes of dust.
There were even papers stacked against a door set deep into the wall.
Her wall. Their door, the one connecting their rooms. Nora reddened.
There was no fear of him barging through in the middle of the night, then, not with all those papers piled up.
There’d never been any fear of that. The bolt wasn’t pulled across on his side, she noticed.
But that didn’t matter, because her side was locked.
Which was a relief, wasn’t it? Of course it was. Of course, she was relieved. Entirely relieved.
“I assume the maidservants daenae visit here often,” she remarked.
The door slammed shut, causing her to flinch. She turned around cautiously, noticing that Creighton was leaning against the door with his arms tightly crossed over his chest. His muscles flexed against his sleeves, and his broad shoulders strained the fabric.
“Let me be blunt,” he said shortly. “Are ye here to continue the war? Are ye here to create trouble from the inside, to match the trouble goin’ on outside the clan?”
Nora reddened. “Nay, I am nae. Please, believe me, I am nay spy. I am nae here to cause trouble. Laird Bryden is desperate for peace. He would nae risk such a thing.”
“Nay, I daenae believe that he would,” Creighton murmured, half to himself. “Evander seems to be a man of his word, I’ll give him that. But ye… Well, I cannae make ye out, lass. Sendin’ a healer instead of the important lass I’d asked for seems to be a strange choice to me. Why ye?”
“Me father was an important councilor. And I am a foremost healer, and—”
“Aye, aye, I read all of that in the letter Evander sent,” Creighton interrupted, waving a hand. “Enough of this, I’ll nae drag it out of ye. I’ll ken soon enough. Let me be clear now. If we are to continue as we are, there are goin’ to be some rules.”
“Rules?” she echoed, lifting her eyebrows.
“Are ye goin’ to object?”
“I might. But I’ll hear them first.”
He chuckled, pacing around a desk overloaded with papers and books. This brought him closer to her, removing the last obstacle between them. She retreated warily, eyeing him.
Daenae retreat too much, she warned herself. It might look like weakness.
“If we are goin’ to live under the same roof, here are me rules,” Creighton drawled. In the gloom, his eyes were dark as pitch, drawing her in. “First of all, ye will nae be alone with me sister again.”
Nora flinched, surprised. “What? I mean her nay harm.”
“I didnae say that ye did. Me sister is young, very young. For me, she’s more of a daughter than a sister at times.
I want to take care of her. She is impressionable.
Everyone in the Highlands, enemy or ally, kens that me one weakness—me only weakness—is me sister.
So, she must be protected. Ye willnae be alone with her again. ”
Nora pressed her lips together. Was it an insult? Did he mean that she might mean Laurie harm? There seemed to be no sense in arguing, though. He was right—Laurie did seem to be his weakness.
“I understand,” she managed at last. “Go on.”
“Rule number two. Ye are nae allowed to roam around the castle without me to accompany ye, or me man-at-arms. Theo will escort ye if ye need it. Andrew might have done so, had ye nae put the fear of God into him.”
Nora bridled at that. “Now this I do object to. What, am I to stay in me rooms all day and all night?”
“Aye,” he agreed. “Ideally.”
“Well, I willnae. I’m a betrothed, nae a prisoner.”
“Interestin’ that ye say a betrothed, not me betrothed. Are ye tryin’ to distance yerself from me, lassie?”
Treacherous blood rushed into her face. Nora cleared her throat, tossing back her hair. “I am nae a captive.”
“Nay, ye are a betrothed,” he agreed, almost happily. “A betrothed who has managed to anger me guards twice in just a few hours. I am fond of Andrew, believe it or nae. He will have gone scuttlin’ off to his room to pray frantically, I imagine, and I do hate to see him distressed.”
“Prayin’ for God to smite me, eh?”
“I daenae believe that Andrew has ever prayed for God to smite anyone. Me point is, lass, ye are causin’ a stir in me well-ordered Keep.
We cannae have that, can we? What’s more, ye must stay alive.
Ye must be looked after and protected if I want me family and me clan to be safer.
I keep ye safe to keep them safe,” he added, taking a step forward.
“So, I’ll ask ye to nae go around the Keep without an escort. ”
Nora tightened her jaw, pointedly not replying. Her reply, however, did not seem necessary. Creighton continued.
“Thirdly, ye will tell me what ye did that made Andrew so afraid. Did ye threaten to bring yer laird here to deal with him?”
Nora flinched. “What? Nay, of course nae!”
“Well, then, what?”
She narrowed her eyes and took a cautious step forward. It felt risky to get this close to him, but how else could she show him she wasn not afraid—that she was tougher than that?
“I daenae want to tell ye what I said to scare him,” she growled, catching his eye and holding it. “But I might show ye, if ye have many more rules for me.”
“Is that a threat, lassie?” Creighton inquired, almost delightedly. “I ken what to do with threats.”
Now he advanced a step forward, bringing himself within arm’s reach. Not that she would reach for him.
“As for bringin’ Laird Bryden here,” she continued, as determinedly as she could manage. “That’s nae true. I would never do that. I need nay man to protect me.”
He stared down at her, eyes focused. He didn’t even appear to blink. How could someone go so long without blinking?
“I almost believe that’s true,” he murmured, mostly to himself. She lifted her chin, resolutely holding his stare. She had to blink, but what was the point in staring contests? All the winners got were dry eyeballs. “Did anyone tell ye, Nora, that ye are adorable?”
She flinched backwards at that, eyes wide. “Nay. Nobody ever did.”
“Hm. Now, me question regardin’ ye, lass, is why ye are here. I said that I wouldnae drag it out of ye, but I’m sure ye can see me concerns.”
He stepped forward and to the side, circling her.
His shoulder was just inches from hers. She could feel his body heat.
Every instinct told her to turn and keep her eyes on him, watching him pace around behind her, the circle tightening.
Instead, she remained still, head held high, chin level with the ground. Unbothered.
Or at least, she hoped she looked unbothered. The reality was probably very different.
“See, Laird Bryden and I both want peace,” Creighton murmured thoughtfully.
“This bargain is somethin’ we both care about.
And I offered me cousin. A fine woman. A lady, ye ken?
Somebody close to me, somebody who mattered to me.
That was me way of showin’ that I meant business.
And then dear, sweet Evander arrives with a woman who is nay relation to him, a healer, a woman who does nae very much seem to want to be here. Can ye nae see why I am dubious?”
Nora swallowed, tilting up her chin. “If I seem reluctant to be here, it’s only because I am nervous. And ye were nae very friendly, were ye?”
He gave a huff of amused laughter. “Fair point. Evander has nay unmarried sister, I ken, but surely he could have dug out a cousin. Or at least the daughter of a current councilman, nae a fellow dead for years. A lady. Which, forgive me lass, ye are nae. Daenae fret, it’s nae an insult.
I’ve met plenty of unpleasant ladies. But that brings me straight back to me original question.
Ye do nae have to be here. So why did Laird Bryden choose ye, and why did ye agree? ”
“I care about me clan,” Nora managed tightly. “I care about me laird, too.”
At once, Creighton’s eyes darkened and sharpened. He pressed closer, gaze scraping all over her.
“Oh? Is that the way the land lies? Ye are tryin’ to impress yer laird, then?”
“What? Nay.”
“I daenae ken, that seems reasonable to me. This certainly would impress him. Nobody expects these betrothals to end in marriage, ye ken. It’s all posturin’.
So, ye could come to me, be me betrothed for a year, then go home.
I imagine the Laird would be very grateful to ye.
The whole clan, in fact, would be in yer debt.
Ye could get anythin’ ye wanted, anyone ye wanted, perhaps… ”
“Nay,” she interrupted, as firmly as she could. “This is nae about Laird Bryden. Certainly nae.”
He circled her again, this time so close that she could feel his warm breath ghosting across the back of her neck. His shoulder brushed hers briefly, a sensation that shot across her skin and made her shiver.
“I daenae ken,” he murmured, voice coming from low in his chest. “If I were Laird Bryden and I wanted to marry a woman below me, I could give her a chance to achieve greatness for herself. Somethin’ to make her seem worthy.”
“Ye think I am nae worthy? Please. And ye do Laird Bryden a disservice. If he wished to marry a woman, he’d do so, regardless of what others thought of her. And he does nae wish to marry me,” she emphasized, catching his eye and glaring. “Besides, he’s betrothed to yer cousin, or did ye forget?”
Creighton chuckled, a low rumble that made her shiver. He stepped in front of her again, head tilted to one side—appraising.
The tingling sensation did not leave Nora’s skin.
She could feel it, tightening as if her skin was shrinking around her.
He was too close. Before, he had been within arm’s reach, but now there was barely a handful of inches between them.
A simple outstretching of her fingers, and she could touch him.
Or he could touch me.
The memory of his hand on the small of her back, too hot and too self-assured, came back to her, a warm glow in her mind. Something bubbled in her gut, a plunging sort of ache that she couldn’t remember feeling before. It tingled, dipping lower in her body. What was it?
Best nae to think about it, she advised herself, her throat tightening.
“If ye have nay more rules for me,” Nora heard herself say, voice shaking only a little. “Then I should like to go back to me rooms. Nae that there’s much else for me to do here, by the way. I am very much a prisoner.”
He stared back at her, and for one breathless moment, she thought he was going to say no.
“Very well,” he said at last. “Off ye go, then. Try nae to cause too much trouble.”
“Nay promises,” Nora muttered, and fled from the room before she could do something she might regret.
Or worse, something she might not regret.