Isit possible for a man to be too handsome?
She thought so.Despite the vast number of balls she attended when she was in England, she’d never seen someone who lit a fire in her quite the way this man did. He was perhaps the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes on.
When he tooka step toward her, Margaret realized something else about him. He was dangerous, the kind of Highlander she’d been warned about over and over. His cool and calculating nature made him seem as though he wouldn’t grant mercy, no matter how hard someone begged for it.
“What do ye want?”he demanded, staring down at Margaret.
She swallowed hard,fortifying her resolve before she said, “I will only speak to the Laird of this castle.”
“Aye, is that so?”the man asked, smirking at her in a way that made a curious heat pool in her belly. “Then ye’re in luck, lassie. I am the Laird of this castle.”
Margaret feltherself flush all the way down below the collar of her newly sewn gown. Her tongue was heavy in her mouth, and the weight of the Laird’s gaze threatened to suffocate her. His guards were snickering, but he was so focused on her that he didn’t seem to care.
“Oh, um…”she stuttered out when she realized he was waiting for her to respond. “I would like to speak with you privately.”
The smirkon his face only deepened as he raised an eyebrow and motioned for her to follow him. Surprised, it took Margaret a moment to realize that her request was being granted. She recovered quickly and jumped slightly as she began to follow him.
She was ledthrough the winding halls of the castle. The Laird moved so quickly that she was nearly unable to keep up, trotting along behind him and only catching glimpses of the interior. With each turn she took, Margaret became more and more confident that she wouldn’t be able to run if things went sour.
Eventually,they came to an abrupt stop in front of a heavy wooden door. The Laird pulled a key from his leather-trimmedtrews. It swung open easily, and he waited for her to step over the threshold before joining her.
“Now that we’rein private, perhaps ye could start by tellin’ me who ye are,” he suggested as he closed the two of them in the room that seemed to be his study. He fixed his intimidating stare on her.
“I’m Margaret Sutton,”she said, taking a deep breath to steady herself.
I’m notsure I like being alone with a man like him.
“Margaret,”Laird McGhee said as if tasting her name. It sounded different with his accent, warmer in a way that made her want to squirm. “And why have ye shown up at me castle demandin’ to speak with me in private?”
“I believewe can help one another,” she explained, shaking her head when he gestured for her to take a seat in a plush-looking chair. “I’ve come to propose a deal.”
“A deal?”he replied, tilting his head, still smirking at her. “What is it that ye’ve come to offer me, Sassenach?”
Margaret ignored the term,assuming he didn’t mean it as an insult. She was no stranger to jokes that fell flat, and she forced herself to assume that was what he intended.
“I knowthat you need someone to act as your betrothed,” she said, her head held high. “I’ve heard your council has been hounding you, and I imagine you’d like to put a stop to that.”
“Ye do?”
“Yes,”Margaret confirmed then continued, “I need someone to shelter me. That’s a service I believe you could provide.”
The Laird considered her,his eyes sweeping over her form. The hint of amusement never left his features though his smirk melted into a thin line.
“Why isit that ye think I need someone to act as me betrothed rather than just bein’ me betrothed for real?”
The cornerof Margaret’s mouth quirked. It didn’t sound as though he were denying her. Still, it wasn’t an acceptance either.
“If you truly wanted a wife,you’d have gotten married already,” she explained. “Surely, you’ve plenty of potential wives. And I imagine your counselors have provided their suggestions.”
“Ye make many assumptions,do ye nae?” Laird McGhee replied, skirting her statement entirely. He rubbed his large, strong hand over the hard line of his jaw. “Why is it that ye need protection? And why come to me?”
“You ask a fair few questions yourself,”Margaret replied, anxiously adjusting her skirts. “But if you must know, the man that I rejected is chasing me. I fear for my well-being.”
She didn’t offerany other details and prayed he wouldn’t ask for more. Despite the fact that she was asking him for his help, she didn’t trust him. At his core, he was still a Highlander. The less he knew of her situation, the better.
The easier itwill be to leave if it’s ever safe for me to go back to England if Cunningham’s reign is stopped. Maybe I won’t even have to marry this man.
“So, a bonnie English lass is comin’to me to avoid the English bastard that willnae take nay for an answer,” he mused, sounding as if he found humor in her situation.