Chapter 4
Alex turned and walked. He did not look over his shoulder to check if she followed, and he did not slow down.
Erica came on his left, keeping a half pace back. The ground changed to rougher earth that pressed through the soles of her boots. The music thinned to a distant thrum, and laughter broke apart into stray notes, then faded.
They passed the outer ring of fires, where maids stood with their poles and ropes, and then a knot of women sharing bread. They passed a lad asleep on a cloak, his mouth open, his hand still clutching a wooden cup.
Beyond that, the meadow dipped slightly, then rose toward the boundary stones set low and plain. The dark beyond had no lanterns. It was not a threat. It was only night legs, but it didn’t stop her heart from beating rapidly.
He stopped near the stones, then folded his arms and lifted one brow.
He did not touch her.
He did not speak.
She didn’t know whether it was too early to assume he was different from other predatory men she had come across in just a span of weeks.
The silence had a weight that the crowd never did. In this part of the yard, no one pressed at her shoulders, and no cups brushed her arm. No easy excuse stood ready.
She saw the shape of it. There would be no slipping sideways into dancers, no calling a steward to recite rules and end the moment. She could run and get ten steps at most. She could plead and get nothing worth having.
This was not a menace. It was an expectation. His silence said, Show me who ye are.
“Ye want me to speak first?”
She swallowed. “I daenae ken what ye expect me to say.”
He folded his hands. “How about we start simple. Take it off,” he said at last.
Erica felt her heart skip a beat. “What?”
“Yer mask. I want to see the full face of the lass I just asked to marry me. I hope that isnae too much to ask.”
Oh, right.
Her fingers went to the ribbon at the back of her head. She hesitated. The movement felt small, and the cost felt large.
She thought of Hilda tying her hair that morning. She thought of her mother pushing the basket at her, saying she must not come home skinny. She knew it was ultimately better for her to loosen it anyway, and soon, the knot slid loose. She lifted the mask free and held it in both hands.
The cold night air touched her cheeks and felt like hands. She kept her gaze on his mouth because looking into his one good eye without the barrier felt like stepping too close to the edge of the rise.
He studied her without hurry, and his gaze moved like a man reading a map he intended to walk by dawn. Brow, cheek, the set of her mouth, the line of her jaw. The look in his eye was not admiration or any kind of hunger. She liked to think she recognized looks by now.
No. It looked like he was counting what trouble she brought and deciding whether he wanted to carry it or not.
Heat rose under her skin for a different reason than shame. She had expected men to check her face and find a reason to smile or not. Usually, men were either highly obsessed with her curves or put off by them.
Not him.
This was cleaner and harder. He was deciding if she was worth the work.
“Are ye done?” she asked, keeping her voice level.
“Nay,” he said.
He kept looking, as if the new angle might show a fault she had hidden in light. It made her want to look away.
She did not.
“Happy?” she prompted.
“Aye,” he said. “With the part that matters.”
“And which part is that?”
“That ye did as ye were told when it counted,” he said. “Some rules are there for a reason.”
“Ye really like giving orders, do ye nae? Does it give ye some kind of pleasure?”
“I like seeing what people do when they hear one,” he said. “It saves time.”
“And if I had told ye nay?”
“I would still have seen what I needed,” he said. “Only slower.”
“So, I pleased ye by saving ye time. Is that what ye’re saying?”
“Ye pleased me by showing a face that willnae waste mine,” he said.
She had to stop the corner of her mouth from curling. “Ye ken, for a man who loves to give orders, ye like to talk in one poem lines. Is that also deliberate, or just a way for ye to appear wiser to people?”
He chuckled.
Erica tilted her head.
So, he is capable of that.
For some reason, something about seeing him smile seemed to linger.
“I enjoy talk that means something,” he said. “Ye brought me a claim in front of witnesses. That is talk. This is the part where we decide if it was worth the breath.”
“I see,” Erica responded, her voice cutting through the wind.
A brief moment of silence passed between them, one coated with music and cheer, before she spoke again.
“If ye ken I am the traitor’s daughter, as ye have so eloquently put it—”
He shrugged. “I didnae use that word.”
“Why do ye still insist I marry ye? Ye could have let me go. Why do ye intend to claim me?”
He sharpened his voice. “I will tell ye.”
She nodded. “Good.”
“After ye tell me everything ye ken.”
“Everything I ken?”
It was his turn to nod. “Aye. Like, what did that man want with ye?”
“Ye ken what he wanted,” she said.
“I want to hear it from ye,” he said. “In words.”
“He wants me.”
It sat there, ugly and bare.
Ownership.
She had no wish to dress it pretty, and he did not look away either. Something in him went still, and she caught the tick in his jaw.
“Ye’re certain,” he said.
“Aye.”
“How long?”
“Since he came to our gate months ago,” she said. “Before that, he looked, and now he moves. Today, he followed me because the rules kept his hand open. He means to use what the law leaves clear.”
He listened to the shape of her answer, not to the tremor in it. She was grateful for that. It gave her back a little of what the word had taken.
“Ye had a knife,” he said. “I saw the band on yer wrist. Ye gave it up.”
“It wouldnae help me here,” she said. “And at Bryden, it would only make me bleed slower. Plus, since I bit him once, I doubted he would let me try anything again.”
He blinked. “Ye bit him?”
“Aye.”
He let the corner of his mouth twitch. “That was unwise.”
“It worked,” she said. “For the breath I needed.”
He nodded once. “And then ye paid for it.”
“Aye,” she said. “I will pay for it again.”
The silence stretched once again, and he let it, and she did not fill it. The noise of the festival was a line behind them now.
“Ye ken what I still daenae understand?” he said, his voice cutting through the silence. “There were endless lairds ye could have chosen. Why did ye choose me?”
Erica shrugged. “Because every man within reach seemed terrified by ye, for some reason,” she said. “Because the stewards stood closer to ye. Something told me MacGee’s men would need to count their teeth after they tried ye.”
“And because ye thought me pride would like it,” he said.
“Aye,” she admitted. “A proud man hates being crossed in public. I hoped ye would rather take the claim than let him look like he had the jump on ye.”
“A fair read,” he said. “Ye counted well for a lass who says she came alone.”
“I did come alone,” she said. “I am nae foolish enough to come blind.”
“Good,” he said. “Keep saying what is true. It will get us somewhere faster than pretty words.”
“I have nay time for pretty words,” she said.
He let that sit. His gaze went to the mask still in her hand. “Tie it to yer belt,” he said. “Ye willnae need it again tonight.”
She looped the ribbon through her belt and tied a knot.
“Ye seem to ken me faither. Or at least ken of him. Do ye believe the name they give him?”
“As I said earlier, I believe names change,” he said. “Or prove themselves. I prefer proof.”
“There ye go again, answering questions like a man setting a test.”
“I do,” he said.
He saw his words land, cold and steady. He had taken no pleasure in saying them. He had said them because they were the next stone on the road.
Erica drew a breath. “Me faither vanished first. Nay word. Nay body. Only silence. Me braither rode after him and didnae come back. Men who called themselves allies stopped sending rain, and doors closed all around. Many guards quit as well, and I kept the house on what I could count. Then Laird MacGee came and named us traitors, and every whisper grew teeth. I needed time. Just time to find the truth before the lie crushed us.”
She let it sit. No begging. No soft wrap. Only the shape of what pressed down on her chest day and night.
He listened and did not interrupt. When she finished, he was quiet long enough that doubt crept in at the edges. Perhaps she had read him wrong. Perhaps the cut had been a moment, not a measure.
“Then really become me betrothed,” he said.
The words struck harder than any blow. “Ye really mean that, do ye nae?”
“I daenae joke.”
Erica felt a wave of the cold night air suddenly settle around her, making her aware of the weather and how long she had been standing here.
“A month,” Alex continued. “In name only. It gives ye me shield while ye hunt the truth. It also buys me quiet from a council that kens me house but forgets me time.”
“They want ye married?”
“Aye. The last thing I want is a wife. I have to take care of me daughters—”
Erica blinked. “Did ye say—”
“Daughters, aye. Twins from me previous marriage. Will that be a problem?”
Erica swallowed, her voice leaving her for a second. “I just hadn’t expected a man like ye to have daughters, is all.”
Alex nodded. “Aye. ‘Tis part of why I daenae want another real marriage. I just want the council to stop asking me questions for a while.”
Her heart thudded. The danger was clear. So was the use. “One month.”
“Aye.”
“Until I find out what truly happened.”
“Aye.”
She stared at him, the sound of the festival a thin thread far off.
Clever.
Risky.
Clean.
The kind of plan that would pull half the teeth from Laird MacGee’s smile in one morning and put the other half on the ground by night.
“Why?” she asked. “Why would ye help me?”
“I want peace,” he said. “Noise wastes men, and this ends noise. At least for a while.”
“And ye daenae intend to marry.”
“Nay,” he said. “Nae again.”
Something seemed to shift behind his eye, but she didn’t bring it up. Not now.
“Me maither,” Erica said. “She needs protection. Either a carriage to bring her to safety or guards to remain behind.”
“Done.”
The word dropped final. He had not blinked.
“I am certain this arrangement comes with terms,” she said. “What are they?”
He shifted on his feet, a satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Ye stay at me side the entire time and be around when I need ye. Daenae worry, it willnae be all the time. Ye daenae make other ties without telling me first. If we post men at Bryden for a season, they take orders on security and payment from me. Ye daenae play shy in public and then bold in the dark.”
“I have nay time for shy,” she said.
“Good. Then we are aligned.”
“Nae yet. I have me terms as well,” she said.
“Protection covers me maither and the castle. Ye daenae seize grain, and ye arenae going to starve me folk to feed yer own. The month ends clean unless we both say otherwise, and if I find proof that clears me faither’s name before then, ye stand and say it loud. ”
“Aye,” he agreed. “All of it. If proof runs the other way, ye hear it from me first.”
Her throat tightened. “I will hear it.”
“Aye.”
Silence pressed in for a breath. She tasted iron and steadied it.
“So ye will address me as yer bride?” she asked, keeping it practical.
“Aye,” he said. “‘Tis how the arrangement usually works. Have ye never seen a married couple before? But daenae worry. Ye’re safe for the time ye will be with me. I willnae let anyone bring dirt to ye or yer name.”
Her mouth moved before she could stop it. “Proud.”
“Accurate,” he said.
She almost smiled. “When do we start?”
“How soon?”
“Now,” she said, then understood what that meant. Not later. Not at dawn.
Now.
“Aye.” He nodded. “Now.”
He looked toward the fires, then back at her. “Ye have anything else ye need to set before we walk?”
“A signal,” she said. “If ye need me quiet.”
He held up his right hand and tapped it twice against his thigh. “This.”
“And if I need ye to stop talking?” she said dryly.
“Ye can try,” he said, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “Do ye ken what ye are taking on?”
“A laird who speaks like a ledger,” she said. “And a shield that draws eyes I cannae afford. I ken it.”
A smile settled on his lips. “Good. Then we are aligned.”
“Well, Laird Macmillan, it looks like ye have yerself a deal,” she eventually said, her voice softer than she had intended.
“Good to ken,” he responded, then lowered his voice. “Wife.”