Page 6 of A Wife for the Highland Wolf
Murdoch took a closer look at his chosen bride. She was shorter than her sister, but well proportioned, with generous curves and clear, slightly tanned skin. Her face was surrounded by a carefully tamed silken mane of hair, dark as night. Her green eyes were bright, lively and sharp with a keen intelligence that added maturity and wisdom to her otherwise youthful face.
The girl, Lydia, he needed to remember her given name if he was to be courting her, folded her arms under her bosom, and Murdoch found his eyes drawn to the swell of her chest. She was well-endowed, and it had been a long time since he had paid much attention to a woman.
He jerked his gaze back to her face quickly, but saw by the gleam in her eyes that she hadn’t missed the momentary shift of his attention. Murdoch found himself appreciating her quick vigilance.
“Well, Laird Lochlann?” She raised an eyebrow at him, amusement almost covering the apprehension he’d witnessed earlier. She had boldness and sense both, and he liked that as much as he did her physical attributes.
“Murdoch.” He stepped closer to her. “Since we’re to be married, tis best ye get used to me given name.”
Her eyebrow rose higher, skepticism clear on her face. “I dinnae agree to marry ye, and ye’ve yet to convince me why I should.”
His admiration was joined by a spark of irritation. “Miss Knox, I ken I made meself clear. We’re to be wed, or there will be war between our clans. And make nay mistake lass…” He stepped closer, using his height to loom over her. “I’ve never lost a war and I’ll nae lose to yer kinfolk either.”
The small step she took back revealed that he’d made an impression. Nevertheless, she was quick to rally and respond. “I daenae ken whether tis blackmail or threats ye're after makin’,but neither’s a good way to win a bride. Did nay one ever teach ye that, me Laird?”
Murdoch’s respect for her grew at the impudent challenge. Even so, he wasn’t without a response of his own. He stepped closer and bent to whisper in her ear before she could back away. “Would ye prefer I try seduction then, Miss Knox? For I’d be more than willin' to do so if that’s the sort of convincin' ye’d rather have.”
He’d suspected she was a maiden, but when she blushed furiously at his words it was all the confirmation he needed that he was correct.
Lydia quickly found her words again, her eyes flashing with ire at being caught out by Murdoch; at least he thought that was what had sparked the heat in her eyes. “Are ye a rake then, and only playin' games with me? I daenae like being toyed with.”
His moment of amusement faded. His voice became deadly serious as he responded. “Ye're the one playin’ games, games I daenae have any time to indulge. I need a bride, and by the terms of the contract, ye're me choice. Ye will wed me by the end of the month.”
4
Laird Lochlann’s, no, Murdoch’s moods, if she was truly going to consider marrying him, seemed to shift from moment to moment. One minute she was certain he was amused, perhaps even teasing her, but in the next, he seemed indignant and impatient.
It was troublesome, and not solely because of the way that his brief whisper had affected her. She had no idea why his words had made her heart race, and her face heat. She didn’t understand why her skin tingled, as if she’d been in the sun too long.
She recovered her momentary loss of poise with a challenge, thinking to tease him a little. Instead, his mood changed again, - or so she thought, until she glimpsed the slight upward quirk at the corner of his mouth.
Perhaps he was only testing her mettle, the way she was testing his. Lydia supposed it was only fair.
Still, he kept saying the same things; that he’d create trouble for her clan if she refused to marry him. Aside from that one moment of teasing, he’d yet to offer anything other than to say there would be negative consequences for her refusal. She was growing tired of his intimidation tactics. Time to see if Laird Lochlann had anything better to offer than threats.
Lydia tossed her head and held his gaze. “Since ye’re so insistent, suppose ye tell me what yer offer is.”
Murdoch’s frown this time was more pronounced, and more frank. “What do ye mean? I thought I’d made meself perfectly clear.”
“Och, ye’ve made some bold statements, nay doubt of that, but aside from preventing a war, ye’ve scarcely given me an incentive to agree. Ye cannae bargain with just that. And ye’re hardly the only one to make an offer for me hand.”
Lydia squared her shoulders and raised her chin. It was true, she didn’t have many suitors, but she also wasn’t completely without offers either. She’d simply never met any man she’d felt was worth pursuing. Not that he needed to know either of those truths.
He still hadn’t said anything. Lydia pursed her lips in exasperation. “Ye ken, there’s other lairds who can make similar claims of alliance and threats of war. So convince me, why should I choose a man who’s kent to be a murderer, over one with a less dangerous past?”
She knew the second the words had left her mouth that she’d made a mistake. His expression twisted into genuine fury. Before she could think to step away, Murdoch’s hands were gripping her shoulders with bruising strength. “Who told ye such a thing? Who?”
The suddenness of his reaction was terrifying, and Lydia was grateful when Hector shoved his way between them, a low growl rumbling in his chest. Lydia stepped back and laid a hand on Hector’s neck, trying not to shiver at the violence of his response. “Good boy, Hector. Ye’re the best of dogs.”
She looked back up to see that Laird Lochlann, she couldn’t really think of him any other way in that moment, had once again composed himself, though his eyes remained dark with anger and his jaw was tense. “Who told ye that I was a murderer?”
“It hardly matters. It was somethin’ I’d heard, but I cannae remember where.” Her heart was once again thumping quickly, but this time with a fading fear, rather than excitement.
A look flashed across Murdoch’s eyes, too fast for her to decipher. His expression then smoothed out and resumed its usual impassive mask. He stepped back, deliberately giving her space, placing Hector’s furry bulk between them. “Very well then. Let us speak of terms and conditions, me lady Knox, that we may have a peaceful union between us.”
It was strange. One moment, he’d been furious, enraged that yet another person was judging him without ever listening to his side of the story. In the next moment, he met her gaze and the rage cooled.
He’d obviously frightened her, but Lydia stood her ground. Whoever had conveyed to her the rumors surrounding his wife’s death, it was someone she was willing to protect, even if it meant facing him down.
