Page 22 of Captured By the Cruel Highlander
“Ye ken he doesnae like bein’ around them. He prefers that ye or I care for him.”
Adam rolled his eyes.
Freya pampered that horse mercilessly. The poor thing thought it was living on a farm, not in a castle. She even insisted on an expensive feed that Adam had to have shipped in from Ireland.
“I couldnae take William,” he said, referring to his own horse. “His leg is still bad.”
“Aye, because ye overworked him and he fell on the hills.”
“I did nay such thing. Buck is quite comfortable.”
Freya scoffed irritably but then remembered herself and looked back at Emily apologetically. “Sorry, Lady Emily, me braither keeps stealin’ me horse.”
“He is a fine beast,” Emily said, crossing the room toward them.
She had to hike up her skirt to stop herself from tripping over the endless fabric. It fitted her waist very well—tight and pleasing to the eye. Her tiny legs were another matter.
“I was injured on the marshes today,” she continued, “and Laird MacNiall used one of yer ribbons to wrap me wound. Buck was most helpful and a steady steed to travel back on.”
Freya spun back to face Adam again, and he groaned inwardly. “Ye werebothon his back at once? All the way to the castle? Nay wonder he is so tired. I shallnae let ye use him again if this is how ye treat him.”
“Calm down, woman,” Adam said irritably. “He will get plenty of rest tonight. With this storm, he must be hunkered down in his stall and willnae stir until mornin’.”
His heart was beating fast in his chest. He didn’t want Emily to think he was ruled by the women in his life. His mother had already talked down to him in front of her, and now his sister. Perhaps he had given them too much leeway.
“I’ll take any horse I like, seein’ as they all belong to me,” he finished forcefully.
But Freya was not cowed by his tone. She simply scowled at him, but as she turned to Emily, she gave her a pretty smile. “Let us all have some dinner, at least—ye must be starvin’ too after the day ye have had. ”
She gave Adam another stern look before leaving the room and walking swiftly down the corridor.
Adam sighed heavily, finally offering his hand to Emily. As her palm came to rest on his, he felt a spark where they touched.
Her fingers were slim and delicate, and as she passed him by, a delicious scent wafted up in her wake. It smelled like the clean air in the Highlands or the first buds of spring.
He inhaled deeply as they left the room and he led her toward the stairs.
“I will introduce ye as me betrothed tonight,” he insisted. “Everyone must believe that ye are really me bride if the rumors are to reach Orkney in time.”
She seemed nervous at the prospect but nodded. “Alright, but I wanted to ask ye somethin’ first,” she said hesitantly.
“Aye?”
“Me poor faither will be beside himself with worry. He willnae be able to bear it if he believes I am bein’ forced to marry someone else against me will. I wish to tell him what has happened to put his mind at ease.”
Adam’s heart clenched as his instincts kicked in. He wanted to agree to anything she asked for so that the look of sadness would be wiped off her face, but he could not agree tothat.
“Nay, lass, I cannae let ye do it.”
Her eyes flashed with anger as she looked back at him. “And why nae?” she demanded.
“Because Orkney will be expectin’ ye to contact them. What if he were to intercept the letter and learn the truth?”
“But I must make sure that me braither is safe. Ye are the one who stabbed him! Besides, yewantJames to ken about our weddin’, so what difference does it make?”
“I need him to be driven mad by the lack of news. We cannae give him a hint that this is a trap. He has to believe it—body and soul.”
Her brow was furrowed in irritation, and her grip on his hand was growing tighter by the second.
