Chapter 14
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“What is wrong with me,” Eloise murmured under her breath.
She stood quietly in the great hall, as the bustling clan had already finished the evening meal, and people spoke and danced.
Her hands folded in her lap though her thoughts were anything but still.
The memory of the stream clung to her, vivid and inescapable, the way James had hovered over her, the weight of him, the heat that had rushed through her when his gaze had dropped to her lips.
She pressed her fingers together, trying to steady herself.
She could still feel him, as though the imprint of that moment had settled beneath her skin.
And worse still, she had no one to speak of it to.
She wanted to tell Beatrice. The urge pressed at her, sharp and insistent, but she bit it back. The truth of the false engagement sat between them like an invisible wall, one she could not break without risking everything.
“Ye’ve gone quiet,” Beatrice said beside her, nudging her gently.
Eloise blinked, forcing a smile. “I was only thinkin’,” she said.
Beatrice studied her for a moment, then looped her arm through Eloise’s.
“Come,” she said. “Let us walk among the people.”
The great hall buzzed with life after supper, voices rising in laughter and conversation, the firelight casting a warm glow over the stone walls.
As they moved through the crowd, Eloise felt it before she saw it, his presence.
Her gaze lifted, and there he was across the hall.
Their eyes met, and for a brief, suspended moment, everything else faded.
Then, just as quickly, James looked away.
Eloise felt warmth run through her.
“Did ye see that?” Beatrice whispered.
“See what?” Eloise asked, though she knew full well.
“The way he looked at ye,” Beatrice said, grinning faintly.
Eloise shook her head, though her cheeks warmed. “Ye imagine things,” she said.
“Do I? He looks at ye as if nae one else is in the room,” Beatrice teased.
Before Eloise could answer, a smooth voice cut in. “Miss Eloise.” She turned to find Mairead approaching, her expression composed, her smile perfectly measured.
“Mairead,” Eloise said politely.
Beatrice dipped into a small curtsy. “Good evening,” she said.
Mairead inclined her head slightly. “Aye, so it is.”
“I hear ye’ve been to the seamstress,” Mairead said, her tone light, though her eyes flicked briefly toward Eloise’s gown.
Eloise nodded. “Aye,” she said. “James took me.” For the briefest moment, something tightened in Mairead’s expression, though it vanished just as quickly.
“How… thoughtful of him,” she said, her smile sharpening at the edges.
Beatrice glanced between them, sensing the shift. “It sounds excitin’,” she said brightly. “The weddin’ clothes and all the preparations.”
Mairead let out a soft breath that might have been a laugh. “Aye,” she said. “Though I imagine such things are best planned with care, nae… haste. Things that are going to last are usually mended with time, nae with haste.”
Eloise held her gaze. “Circumstances sometimes require haste,” she replied evenly.
“Of course they do,” Mairead said, her tone sweet but laced with something harder beneath. “Still, one would think a union of such importance might have been… long considered.”
Eloise felt the edge in the words but did not retreat.
“What matters is that it is decided now,” Beatrice said.
Mairead’s smile widened slightly, though it did not reach her eyes.
“Aye,” Mairead said softly. “What matters is what is decided.” She paused, then added, “I only hope such a sudden change proved… difficult to maintain.”
Eloise’s chin lifted slightly. “I adapt well,” she said.
“I’m sure ye do,” Mairead replied, her gaze lingering a moment longer before she stepped back. “Enjoy yer evenin’,” she added, then turned and walked away, her composure flawless.
Beatrice watched her go, her brows knitting together. “Well,” she said under her breath. “That was… somethin’.”
Eloise exhaled slowly, tension she hadn’t realized she held easing slightly. “She is… interestin’,” she said carefully.
Beatrice snorted softly. “That is one way to put it,” she said.
Eloise glanced at her. “What do ye mean?” she asked.
Beatrice shook her head, lowering her voice. “I cannae place it,” she admitted. “But there is somethin’ about her.”
Eloise frowned faintly. “Somethin’?” she pressed.
Beatrice nodded. “Aye,” she said. “She smiles, but it doesnae feel warm. It feels… measured.”
Eloise glanced across the hall where Mairead now spoke with others, her poise as perfect as ever. “She has been here a long time,” Eloise said. “Perhaps she is simply… careful.”
“Or perhaps she is somethin’ else entirely,” Beatrice murmured.
Eloise looked back at her cousin. “Ye think ill of her?” she asked.
Beatrice shrugged lightly. “I think she kens more than she says,” she replied.
Eloise’s looked at Mairead, who had her eyes glued across the hall. Eloise followed her stare and saw that it landed on James.
James stood at the far end, speaking with one of his men, his posture as controlled as ever. But she had seen the way he looked away from her. She had felt the shift between them. And now, with Mairead’s words echoing in her mind, a quiet unease settled deeper within her.
Is there somethin' between them? James so easily keeps our secret, so why nae keep another?
“Come,” Beatrice said, tugging her arm gently. “Let us find somethin’ sweet to nibble on.”
Eloise forced a smile and allowed herself to be led away, though her thoughts lingered behind. Because for all the warmth of the hall, something had changed, and she could not yet tell if it was within James… or within the walls of Calibroch itself.
I cannae bear to watch her and nae touch her.
James moved swiftly through the corridor, his fists tight at his sides, his thoughts still unsettled from the evening. He had no patience for the hall’s chatter, nor for the way his gaze kept straying toward Eloise despite himself.
He turned the corner toward his chamber, only to stop short. “James.”
He closed his eyes briefly at the sound of her voice. “Mairead,” he said, turning to face her, already bracing for what would come.
She stood rigid, her composure thinner than he had ever seen it.
“Ye’ve been avoidin’ me,” she said, her voice tight.
“I’ve been occup…” he began, but she cut him off.
“Daenae lie to me,” she snapped, stepping closer. “I want the truth.”
His expression hardened. “I’ve given ye nothin’ but the truth,” he said.
Her eyes flashed. “Then tell me why ye’ve chosen her over me.”
“Mairead, I willnae…”
“Daenae stand there and pretend this is nae what has happened.”
He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “Ye were brought here as a child to strengthen ties between our clans,” he said. “That was always the purpose.”
Her breath hitched. “Ye lie. I was brought here for ye,” she whispered. “I'm the one ye should marry. It was supposed to be me,” she said, her voice breaking. “Everyone kent it.”
“Everyone assumed,” he corrected firmly. “I never promised ye that.”
Tears welled in her eyes. “Ye let me believe it,” she said.
“I did nay such thing,” he replied.
She sagged slightly, her anger giving way to something more fragile.
“Then why nae me?” she asked, her voice quieter now. “What is it that she has that I daenae have?”
“This isnae about what she has,” he said.
“Then what is it about?” she pressed.
He hesitated. “It is complicated,” he said at last.
Mairead let out a hollow laugh. “Complicated,” she repeated.
“Aye, I see that.” She stepped closer, her expression shifting, something desperate flickering beneath the surface.
“Perhaps ye simply daenae want me,” she said softly.
“Because ye have nae even kissed me,” she continued, her voice trembling.
“Nae once so how could ye ken what ye truly want.”
Before he could respond, she pressed herself against him, her hands gripping his tunic.
James stiffened instantly. “Mairead, stop,” he said sharply, pushing her back.
“James?” The voice cut through the moment like a blade.
They both turned.
Eloise stood at the end of the corridor, her eyes wide, her expression stricken. For a heartbeat, no one moved.
Then her face hardened, hurt flashing into anger. “I see,” she said quietly.
“Eloise…” James began, stepping forward. But she turned and ran before he could say more.
“Eloise!” he called, already moving after her. His boots struck hard against the stone as he followed her down the corridor.
“Stop,” he called again. She did not. By the time he reached her chamber, the door had already slammed shut and locked.
“Open this door,” he said, his voice firm as he tried the handle.
“Go away!” her voice came sharp from within.
“Ye misunderstand…” he began.
“I understand perfectly,” she snapped. “Just leave me be.”
His jaw clenched. “Eloise, open the door,” he said again, more forcefully.
“Nay!” she shouted. “I willnae be made a fool of.”
He pressed his hand against the wood, frustration twisting within him. “It isnae what ye think,” he said, though his voice had lost some of its edge.
There was a pause, then her voice came quieter, but no less firm. “I daenae care what it is. Why should I?” she said. “Just go.”
The finality in her tone stilled him. For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, with a sharp exhale, he stepped back. “Fine,” he muttered, turning away.
The next morning dawned cold and gray, matching James’s mood perfectly. He rode out with Callum at his side, his expression set and unreadable. The usual ease between them was gone, replaced with a heavy silence.
“Ye look like ye swallowed a wasp,” Callum said after a time.
James did not respond. Callum smirked slightly. “Was it the lass, then?”
James shot him a sharp look. “Enough,” he said.
“Aye, as ye wish,” Callum said, though his amusement lingered. They rode on in silence for a while longer before Callum tried again. “Ye ken, bottlin’ it up willnae help.”
“I said enough,” James snapped.
James stared ahead, his thoughts a storm he could not escape, Eloise’s expression, the look in her eyes, the way she had turned from him.
Why do I care so much that she is hurt? She is nae mine. She will leave when she is done with me and me protection.
His grip tightened on the reins. Whatever control he had thought he possessed was slipping, piece by piece. And for the first time in a long while, James had no idea how to regain it.
James rode in tense silence beside Callum, his jaw set, his thoughts dark and unyielding. At last, he spoke, his voice clipped.
“Tomorrow, we’ll ride east. We'll inspect the villages on the eastern borders,” he said.
Callum frowned slightly. “East?” he repeated. “We are nae due to inspect those villages for another month.”
James did not look at him. “We go at dawn,” he said.
Callum studied him a moment longer, then gave a slow nod. “Aye,” he said. “If that is what ye wish, me Laird.”
The next morning, he prepared to depart. Though he had one last task before leaving.
He stood outside Eloise’s chamber once more, his hand lifted to knock. He hesitated only a fraction before striking the wood firmly.
“Who is it?” her voice called from within, sharp and guarded.
“It is James,” he replied.
There was a pause, then, “Go away.”
“Ye promised to obey me while ye were under me roof,” he said, his voice hardening. “I command that ye open this door, or ye will nae longer be under me protection.”
The door opened sharply, and Eloise stepped back into the room without a word.
James entered after her, closing the door behind him with deliberate force.
She stood near the hearth, her posture stiff, her chin lifted in defiance. “Well?” she said. “What is so important that ye must threaten me to hear it?”
He exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself. “I came to tell ye I will be gone for three days,” he said.
Surprise flickered across her face before she masked it. “Gone?” she asked. “Where?”
He met her gaze evenly. “Duty calls,” he said.
Her eyes narrowed at once. “Aye,” she said slowly. “Does it now?”
He felt the shift, the accusation beneath her tone. “Say what ye mean,” he said.
She crossed her arms. “If ye are leavin’ to be with her, ye need naught lie about it,” she said. “We are nae a true engaged couple.”
His temper flared, sharp and immediate. He stepped toward her, his presence filling the space between them. “What ye saw in that corridor was nothin’ but a woman losin’ control of herself,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “I did nothin’ to encourage it.”
Eloise held her ground, though her pulse quickened. “If ye say so, me Laird,” she replied coolly. “’Tis nae concern of mine.”
“It should be,” he snapped.
She shook her head. “Nay,” she said. “Once the four weeks are done, I shall leave…as promised.”
The words struck harder than he expected, stirring something he did not wish to examine.
“Ye are a stubborn lass,” he said, frustration bleeding through.
Eloise let out a sharp breath. “And ye are an insufferable, overbearin’ brute that plays with the hearts of women,” she shot back.
His eyes flashed. He stepped closer still, his voice dropping. “Ye would do well to remember where ye are,” he said.
“Aye,” she said, her voice quieter but no less fierce. “In a castle where I traded one vile Laird for another that's one of betrayal.”
The words hit their mark. For a moment, neither of them moved, the air thick with tension. James’s mouth clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides.
“Ye ken nothin’ of what I am,” he said tightly.
Eloise lifted her chin. “Then perhaps ye should stop givin’ me reason to think I do,” she replied.
Silence fell between them, sharp and brittle.
Then, with a sharp turn, James strode to the door and wrenched it open.
“Three days,” he said without looking back. “Try nae to cause trouble in me absence.”
“I make nay promises,” she returned.
He did not respond.
The door slammed behind him as he left, his anger carrying him down the corridor and out into the cold morning air.
Moments later, he was mounted and riding hard from the castle, the distance doing little to quiet the storm brewing within him.
She thinks I play with women. That I am Mairead's secret lover. I can never be the man she expects me to be.