turn.
It took him a moment to control the slow smile tugging at his lips. Did she imagine he’d allow her to ignore him? He’d have to make sure she was fully aware of him, always.
He eyed the leaf-green woollen gown encasing Kenzie’s slender form. ‘You’ve done well, Ailsa.’
‘Oh, thank you, sir,’ the young maid said, bending to retrieve the brush. ‘It will take but a moment to fix my lady’s … to fix Kenzie’s hair.’
‘Leave it,’ he said, his attention resting on his wife’s set profile. ‘I like it down.’ Kenzie’s delicate jaw angled higher, exposing the slender column of creamy skin that rippled as she swallowed. Ah, his bride wasn’t as immune to his presence as she wanted him to believe. ‘You may go and find a place among the hungry horde below, lass.’
‘Thank you for your assistance, Ailsa,’ his wife said, her fondness for the maid evident in her tone.
With a bobbed curtsey, Ailsa left.
Kenzie stood and finally turned to face him.
Lachlan was relieved to see the smudges beneath her eyes had all but disappeared. Her direct look and the determination in the dark depths warned him any fondness she felt didn’t extend to him. Something he needed to change if she was to share his bed.
‘Did you sleep well?’
‘You’d know better than I.’
He liked her blunt manner. ‘Aye, I would.’ He smiled. ‘Aye, you did.’
She arched a fine brow, as if to say, ‘Why bother asking then?’
Suppressing a grin, Lachlan returned her stare. He liked a challenge and was beginning to believe marriage to Kenzie would be his greatest one yet. But could she take as good as she gave?
‘Are you ready to be officially welcomed as an Elliot?’ he said, offering her his arm.
‘As ready as any woman forced to marry a complete stranger can be.’ She plucked something from the table before ignoring his proffered arm and heading toward the door.
He grasped her elbow. She spun to face him, defiance sparking in her eyes.
‘We don’t have to remain strangers, Kenzie. The choice is yours.’
‘Choice,’ she scoffed, twisting out of his grasp. ‘I’ve had little choice since I met you.’
Lachlan clenched his jaw. ‘A meeting destined to take place when you made the choice to steal my horse?’
Unable to deny what she’d done, she held his gaze, but said nothing. Her determination to remain strong when confronted by a harsh truth bespoke an inner strength he recognised and admired.
‘Why did you steal my horse?’
Dark lashes flickered momentarily, suggesting his question surprised her. ‘I had my reasons. Reasons that don’t concern you.’
Secrets more’s the like. He folded his arms and looked at Kenzie. Her unwillingness to account for her thieving confirmed his beliefs. A coldness trickled down his spine. He’d married her, but he couldn’t trust her. After all, she was a thief with secrets, and she was a woman.
But worse, she was his wife.
***
Shoulders braced, Kenzie began to work her hair into a single braid as she waited for Lachlan Elliot to demand she tell him why she stole his horse.
He didn’t. Instead, his strong forearms crossed over his wide chest and he stared at her through narrowed eyes.
With almost steady fingers she tied off the end of her hair with a strip of leather. Only then did he speak.
‘From now on, any “reasons” you have will be of concern to me. Come, the horde grows restless to meet you.’ He ushered her out of the chamber. ‘We Elliots haven’t feasted and kicked up our heels in dance for too long.’
Dance! Her heart leaped at the mention of her childhood dream. But she did not dance. She didn’t know how. There’d been no one to teach her, so she’d never learned, only watched from the shadows, where she’d quashed burgeoning wisps of envy. Over the years she’d convinced herself that dancing was a frivolous luxury, as were pretty satin gowns, sparkling jewels and looking glasses, too often peered into instead of
It took him a moment to control the slow smile tugging at his lips. Did she imagine he’d allow her to ignore him? He’d have to make sure she was fully aware of him, always.
He eyed the leaf-green woollen gown encasing Kenzie’s slender form. ‘You’ve done well, Ailsa.’
‘Oh, thank you, sir,’ the young maid said, bending to retrieve the brush. ‘It will take but a moment to fix my lady’s … to fix Kenzie’s hair.’
‘Leave it,’ he said, his attention resting on his wife’s set profile. ‘I like it down.’ Kenzie’s delicate jaw angled higher, exposing the slender column of creamy skin that rippled as she swallowed. Ah, his bride wasn’t as immune to his presence as she wanted him to believe. ‘You may go and find a place among the hungry horde below, lass.’
‘Thank you for your assistance, Ailsa,’ his wife said, her fondness for the maid evident in her tone.
With a bobbed curtsey, Ailsa left.
Kenzie stood and finally turned to face him.
Lachlan was relieved to see the smudges beneath her eyes had all but disappeared. Her direct look and the determination in the dark depths warned him any fondness she felt didn’t extend to him. Something he needed to change if she was to share his bed.
‘Did you sleep well?’
‘You’d know better than I.’
He liked her blunt manner. ‘Aye, I would.’ He smiled. ‘Aye, you did.’
She arched a fine brow, as if to say, ‘Why bother asking then?’
Suppressing a grin, Lachlan returned her stare. He liked a challenge and was beginning to believe marriage to Kenzie would be his greatest one yet. But could she take as good as she gave?
‘Are you ready to be officially welcomed as an Elliot?’ he said, offering her his arm.
‘As ready as any woman forced to marry a complete stranger can be.’ She plucked something from the table before ignoring his proffered arm and heading toward the door.
He grasped her elbow. She spun to face him, defiance sparking in her eyes.
‘We don’t have to remain strangers, Kenzie. The choice is yours.’
‘Choice,’ she scoffed, twisting out of his grasp. ‘I’ve had little choice since I met you.’
Lachlan clenched his jaw. ‘A meeting destined to take place when you made the choice to steal my horse?’
Unable to deny what she’d done, she held his gaze, but said nothing. Her determination to remain strong when confronted by a harsh truth bespoke an inner strength he recognised and admired.
‘Why did you steal my horse?’
Dark lashes flickered momentarily, suggesting his question surprised her. ‘I had my reasons. Reasons that don’t concern you.’
Secrets more’s the like. He folded his arms and looked at Kenzie. Her unwillingness to account for her thieving confirmed his beliefs. A coldness trickled down his spine. He’d married her, but he couldn’t trust her. After all, she was a thief with secrets, and she was a woman.
But worse, she was his wife.
***
Shoulders braced, Kenzie began to work her hair into a single braid as she waited for Lachlan Elliot to demand she tell him why she stole his horse.
He didn’t. Instead, his strong forearms crossed over his wide chest and he stared at her through narrowed eyes.
With almost steady fingers she tied off the end of her hair with a strip of leather. Only then did he speak.
‘From now on, any “reasons” you have will be of concern to me. Come, the horde grows restless to meet you.’ He ushered her out of the chamber. ‘We Elliots haven’t feasted and kicked up our heels in dance for too long.’
Dance! Her heart leaped at the mention of her childhood dream. But she did not dance. She didn’t know how. There’d been no one to teach her, so she’d never learned, only watched from the shadows, where she’d quashed burgeoning wisps of envy. Over the years she’d convinced herself that dancing was a frivolous luxury, as were pretty satin gowns, sparkling jewels and looking glasses, too often peered into instead of
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