Page 39 of In Bed with a Highland Beast

“Aye,” said Alaric with a nod. “She is deceptively strong. But she only saved me because she needed me help. Her… well, the Ravencloaks, they killed her brother an’ she wanted revenge, but she said she needed me tae infiltrate them an’…”

Alaric’s voice trailed off, knowing how it all must have sounded to Evan. His eyes were wide and though he was not saying anything, the shock Alaric’s words had caused was palpable.

“An’ ye infiltrated them?” Evan asked.

Alaric hesitated for a moment. “We did,” he said. “That’s why I had tae attack that poor man, it was a test. But I couldnae let him leave with naethin’, so I gave him me ring an’ told him tae seek ye out. An’ then we stayed with the Ravencloaks an’ we foundevidence that their leader, Callum, is workin’ with the king. Letters between them that speak o’ destabilizing’ the clans.”

It was then that Evan froze, slowly lowering his cup to the table. He steepled his fingers together as he looked at Alaric, his dark eyes narrowing. “That is very concernin’.”

“It is,” Alaric agreed. “An’ we must dae everythin’ we can tae stop them. I dinnae ken what it is they are plannin’ but it cannae be good.”

Nodding solemnly, Evan took a sip from his cup and at that moment, the door burst open and Isabeau, their sister, and Bonnie, Evan’s wife, ran into the room with matching expressions of relief. The moment Alaric stood from his chair, Isabeau fell into his arms and clung onto him so tightly that Alaric almost feared she would tear his tunic to shreds.

“Where have ye been?” Isabeau asked, still holding onto him. “I’ve been so worried about ye! Why would ye nae send a proper letter?”

Alaric couldn’t help but chuckle softly, shaking his head. “Forgive me,” he told Isabeau. “I didnae wish tae make ye fear but I had nae choice. Where I was, I couldnae send ye anythin’. But I’m here now. I’m safe.”

For a few more moments, Isabeau held Alaric tightly and then she pulled back just enough for him to see the pout on her face.

“Never dae that again,” she said. “We thought ye were dead! And look at ye, full o’ bruises and cuts. I shall be taking care of those!” Isabeau added. She had always wanted to become a healer and spent many an hour in the healer’s hut and reading books about herbs and remedies. She had a good hand and was certainly not lacking the empathy required for the job.

“I promise,” said Alaric. “I promise.”

“It’s good tae have ye back, Alaric,” said Bonnie as she laid a hand on his shoulder, smiling. But then, her smile turned into a small frown as she regarded him. “I heard there was a lass with ye.”

Alaric froze under the scrutiny of his entire family, his throat suddenly going dry. Bonnie would find out the truth either way, as there was nothing Evan could keep from her. If Evan knew, then Bonnie did as well.

“She is… helpin’ me,” Alaric said. “An’ I am helpin’ her.”

He didn’t miss the way Bonnie glanced at Evan from the corner of her eye, and he knew the two of them would be having a discussion about this later, but he didn’t care to elaborate. As long as he wasn’t present to endure the embarrassment of the two of them discussing this, then they could do as they pleased.

“I see,” said Bonnie, a little too cheerfully. “Well, I have given her some clothes. Why have ye been travellin’ like this? Did ye see that poor lass’ cloak?”

“Trust me, Lucia is fine,” Alaric said with a firm nod. “She isnae the kind o’ lass tae be bothered by a cloak.”

“What kind o’ lass is she?” Isabeau asked, and though the question was entirely innocent, Alaric didn’t know how to respond to it.

How could he explain Lucia to them? Could he tell them the truth about her—or at least as much of the truth as he himself knew? Could he tell them about her upbringing, her brother, her past at all?

Could he reveal her plan to Evan?

“She is … different,” is what Alaric settled on in the end.

Different an’ infuriatin’ an’ wonderful.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Everything about Castle MacGregor was warm. The rooms were warm, the fires were warm, the atmosphere was warm—even the people, from those with titles to the servants. They were friendly and happy to help Lucia with any question she had.

Within moments, it was clear to her that she didn’t belong there.

Ever since she donned the clothes brought to her by one of the maids, she had felt as though she was playing a strange role. Though she had bathed and dressed and no fewer than three maids had helped her with her hair, combing and oiling it until they could tame it into an intricate updo of the like Lucia had never even seen before, she felt as though she looked too odd—as though everything she wore was a disguise, like a child trying to look more grown up or an infiltrator failing to blend in.

And now that she was sitting at the dinner table with the entirety of the MacGregor family around her, it was clearer than ever toher that she would never manage to even appear as though she belonged in such a place.

Everything was foreign to her, from the surroundings to the clothes and the gems adorning the women’s throats. Everyone around her picked delicately at their food, so unlike the ravenous, unstoppable way in which Lucia was used to eating. In her world, especially when she was a child, one didn’t take too long to eat simply because one couldn’t. Either she was compelled by her empty stomach to finish her food as fast as possible or she was compelled by the presence of someone just as hungry as her—if she were unlucky enough, a bigger child who could take it from her.

But now everyone ate leisurely, taking the time to savor the food and to talk to each other. That was the one thing Lucia had noticed from the moment she had sat down; they were all constantly talking.

---