Chapter 3
Eliza was holding on to Duncan as though her life depended on it, which, at that moment, it did.
She expected at any moment to fall off the stallion and be trampled, or be skewered by another arrow.
Clearly someone wanted to kill Duncan or both of them, and if Duncan died, she would have no protection, and his murderer would likely kill her too, since she would be a witness to the crime.
But why would someone want to kill them?
She clung to him as tightly as she could, taking comfort from the sheer solidity of his body, until gradually they slowed down and came to a stop.
Eliza was trembling with fear, and found herself unable to move.
Duncan sat tense and motionless for a moment, looking around to make sure they were out of danger, then he slid from the horse and reached for Eliza, setting her gently down on the ground.
Still trembling, she clung to Duncan for a few moments, taking comfort from his strength and the hardness of his body.
When she finally found the power to draw away from him, she looked up and saw that his face was a hard mask of rage.
However, it softened into an expression of concern as he gazed down at her, his amber eyes soft and anxious.
He gently began to run his hands over Eliza’s body, frowning as he did so. “Are you hurt, Eliza?” he asked. His hands were gentle as they searched for any wounds she might have sustained. “Please tell me.”
At any other time, Eliza might have been indignant that a man was taking such liberties with her.
However, now all she wanted was comfort, and she shook her head and once more took a step towards him.
At once, his arms closed around her, and she sighed with relief.
She was not yet safe, but she felt a little better and more able to cope with her fear as long as she could draw on Duncan’s strength.
Granted, he still angered her, and still made her want to scream at him, but Eliza knew with certainty that he would protect her—he had already proved it.
“Good,” he said firmly. “Because nobody harms what is mine!”
Then Eliza felt a rush of rage sweep over her. “I am not—” she began, but Duncan cut her off before she could finish what she was saying.
“I will keep you safe,” he told her, his voice as hard as stone. The look in his amber eyes would have terrified the strongest of men, but somehow Eliza was not afraid of him.
“Stay close to me.” Then he swept her off her feet and onto the horse. “We are too vulnerable out here, Eliza. We must get to my castle before darkness—we will be safe there, I think. Now, we must speed up. Hold on to me as tightly as you can, and I promise I will not let you fall.”
They rode all day, and fortunately the weather continued to stay dry and relatively warm. As the rugged Scottish countryside sped past, Eliza began to relax a little, becoming accustomed to the motion of the horse and feeling safe in Duncan’s arms.
They stopped once to eat the food they had been given beside a stream, and Eliza took the opportunity to wash her face and hands, then stood up and stretched her back, which had begun to ache from sitting in the same position for hours.
When she straightened up and turned around, she found that Duncan was staring at her quite openly.
She glared back at him, but he did not shift his gaze. “Why are you looking at me like that?” she demanded.
“I like looking at beautiful women,” Duncan replied. “Is that a crime?”
“Of course not,” Eliza snapped, “but it is very rude—or does every man in Scotland do this?”
Duncan laughed. “I knew it! You think we are all savages.” he said. “We’re not, Eliza, we are just normal, red-blooded men, and you are in no danger from me, I would never harm a woman.”
Then he stood up, and once more they climbed onto the horse. “Not long now.”
After another hour or so, Eliza saw in the distance a large, sprawling building with many square towers and crenelated walls sitting on top of a hill about a quarter-of-a-mile away from her.
Even from a long way away she could see that it was a mighty, formidable fortress, and as she looked at the man who owned it, she could see that they were well suited.
Duncan Sinclair was large and intimidating too, and she could imagine him standing at the portcullis with a broadsword, his fiery red hair blowing in the wind, staring down anyone who challenged him.
She dismissed the fantasy as he said, “This is Lennoxburn Castle, the seat of the Sinclair Clan, and from this moment on, you must obey every word I say, Eliza.”
Eliza imagined that he had suddenly grown bigger as he drew his tense body up to its full height, shoulders back, chest thrust out. His eyes looked into hers with cold authority and the certainty that his word was law.
“I am the master of this castle, and there must be no doubt in anyone’s mind about that. I will not be undermined. Understand?”
Eliza had been about to protest indignantly that she had a will of her own, and she would not take orders without question, but looking into his fierce eyes, she knew it would be better to stay silent.
As well as that, she remembered how Duncan had shielded her and kept her safe in the shelter of his body and his arms at great risk to himself, and she nodded slowly in acquiescence then said nothing.
They passed through the huge oak gates and Duncan helped Eliza to dismount, then briefly spoke to a man she gathered was his Captain of the Guard to explain what had happened to the carriage.
The man was short and middle-aged, with a distinct air of authority about him, and he smiled at Duncan as he turned around, then saluted.
“M’Laird,” he said pleasantly. “Welcome back. Ye survived, I see.”
Duncan laughed. “Yes, Jerry, I did, but the carriage was not so lucky—two spokes of the back wheel broke on a bad road. I have had to leave it in Weirmouth, so organise a party to collect it tomorrow. I want six of our strongest men and the two biggest horses. It’s quite a long way, so leave at dawn. ”
“Aye, M’Laird,” the Captain said, saluting again.
His glance flicked past Duncan to Eliza, and he bowed, but he asked no questions.
They walked down a broad passage, and every servant whom they passed bowed to them—or rather to Duncan, Eliza thought. They looked at her with complete disdain. Had they heard she was English? She had not said a word since she entered; they must have heard her talking to Duncan.
Presently, they entered a huge room where several men were seated at a long table.
Eliza thought the door would leave its hinges by the force Duncan used on it.
Many of the men rose to greet Duncan, shaking his hand and wishing him well.
They looked questioningly at Eliza, but waited for an introduction from Duncan.
“I have had a long and tiring journey today,” Duncan announced, frowning and wiping his forehead. “So I am adjourning this meeting until next week.”
“But, my Laird!” A tall, dark bearded man stood up. “You have not yet set the terms of your marriage to Lady Drummond. Laird Drummond will be furious.”
“Aye,” one of the younger men agreed. “Laird Drummond is going to be here soon, and he is not going to be thrilled to be kept waiting.”
Duncan glared at him and the young man looked away. “Who is the Laird of this castle?” he asked. “Because when I last looked, it was I. Laird Drummond calls when I say so, not the other way round.”
He swept his gaze around the men at the table and said, “There will be no marriage to Lady Drummond. This—” He pulled Eliza to his side. “This is Lady Eliza Tewsbury, daughter of the Earl of Harwick, and I have chosen her to be my bride.”
“Wait!” one of the other men protested. “Harwick? She is English?”
“Aye, she is.” Duncan looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Remember, we have made peace with them now. Some other Lairds of my acquaintance have married English women, and they are, by all accounts, very happily wed. Sassenachs are not all evil.”
“You mean to pollute our clan’s almost pure Scottish blood with tainted English stuff?” The man’s voice was incredulous and indignant. “The clan will not stand for that, My Laird!”
There was a murmur of agreement, but Duncan moved towards him and looked down at him threateningly.
“The clan will stand for whatever I wish!” he growled. “If anyone wants to dispute this, I am quite willing to fight them over it with a sword or musket.”
Again, he looked around the assembly, his gaze challenging.
Eliza had been watching and listening with terror and trepidation, and now she actively feared for her life. There were at least thirty men in the room, more than enough to overcome Duncan, despite his bravado. What would he do if they tried to challenge him?
She stepped back, not quite sure what she was going to do. She only knew that she had to escape, but she had reckoned without Duncan, who reached back and grabbed her by the wrist.
A moment later, he pulled Eliza into his arms, but not in the tender way he had before.
This time he pulled her close and kissed her; however, it was not a gentle kiss, but a punishing, brutal one that flattened her lips against her teeth and hurt her so that she moaned aloud in pain.
Then, without thinking, she took his lower lip between her teeth and bit it, tasting his blood in her mouth.
At once, Duncan let her go, then wiped his bloody lip with his thumb, glaring at her. Eliza felt a wave of satisfaction sweep over her; he had embarrassed her, but she had had her revenge.
One of the oldest men in the room stood up and marched up to where Duncan stood, then cried, “Duncan Sinclair! Your father would be so angry with you. You should be marrying Lady Drummond—a lady of pure Scottish heritage, not this—” He waved a hand at Eliza and raked her from head to foot with a scathing glance. “Sassenach! Shame on you!”
Duncan took a step towards the old man and glared down at him. He had one advantage over every man in the clan. His height and build made him truly fearsome, especially when he was angry, and at this moment he was absolutely livid with rage.
The elder stared at him fearfully, but to his credit he did not back down.
“I am the Laird of this clan,” Duncan growled, thumbing his chest to emphasise his point.
“And I don’t take kindly to my authority being challenged.
I have made my wishes clear. The contract with the Drummonds has not been signed.
There will be no marriage between me and Lady Drummond.
Now, this meeting is adjourned. Goodbye. ”
The men filed out, muttering amongst themselves.
Several of them cast venomous glances at Eliza over their shoulders, and she began to tremble with fear.
She touched her lips, which still bore the imprint of Duncan’s on them.
She had been frightened, yes, but there was something else; that kiss, though it had been painful and utterly embarrassing, had contained a strange perverse pleasure.
It was like nothing she had ever felt before, and as she looked at Duncan’s rampantly masculine body, she realised that she wanted to feel it again—quite desperately.
Eliza was afraid of him, but not because she thought he would harm her; no, he had already proved that he would not, but because she found herself so attracted to his powerful maleness.
Duncan watched the last of the elders leaving the hall, then turned to her with a fierce frown, which gradually faded as he took in her expression of fear and apprehension.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
Eliza shook her head. “I-I did not expect them to be quite so hostile,” she replied.
The frown came back, and for a second Eliza was frozen with fear, suddenly wondering what kind of man she had been bound to.
“Come,” he said, grabbing her wrist in a fierce grip.