Taming the Scot by Eliza Knight

15

The house was quiet. Bronwen had gotten used to being the first to wake but was sometimes surprised by Euan while eating breakfast. Either he slept late, or he was out before dawn to work with his crofters. Rare was it they were able to meet by chance.

This morning, however, when she’d climbed from the bed, she knew exactly where he was. And she’d smiled into the dim dawn light at his sleeping form, which lay sprawled on her bed, the sheet over only the middle of his body. His arms wide; his legs too. The man slept as though he owned all the space on the bed, and she’d been perfectly content to roll up into his arms and stay there. But alas, a lifetime of waking early wasn’t about to change, even if she’d been up half the night, for they’d made love three glorious times.

Bronwen had been reluctant to leave the cocoon of their warmth. But she was also worried that her maid would come in search of her to help her get ready and find her lying there beside the naked captain. If she was already up and about, then hopefully the maid wouldn’t enter just yet. It was one thing to make love with him, quite another to be caught doing it, even if she had agreed to be his forever.

So, she’d hurried to get herself ready and had escaped her room before anyone deigned to knock on the door. Servants tiptoed about to get their work done but not wake anyone in the process. The dining room was empty, save for the bacon and eggs and toast which smelled heavenly.

Bronwen took in a deep breath and smiled. She was starving. Having been in the household nearly a month now, she’d gotten used to eating her fill without being sick, and this morning, she planned to fill her plate.

Even in this Edinburgh townhouse, Cook had been instructed to make every type of egg imaginable. And today, Bronwen chose to have what the footman called pie in a pan, which looked a lot like a combination of quiche and omelet. Eggs had been whipped together with asparagus and goat cheese, then fried in a pan and sliced into like a pie. Along with that, she took a scoop of mushrooms, two slices of bacon and two pieces of toast. Thank goodness no one was there to watch her gorge herself on what had quickly become her favorite meal of the day.

With her plate in hand, she sat at the table and poured herself a cup of tea.

A moment later, the heavy clomp of boots sounded. Oh, lucky morning. Euan had decided to wake and join her! She glanced up to smile at him, to tease him for sleeping later than her, only to find it wasn’t Euan entering the breakfast room but a total stranger.

The smile fell from her face.

The man standing in the entryway had similar features to Euan. The same color hair and eyes, but the grin on his face was not kind, nor was it pleasant. While Euan had a charming, devilishly handsome look about him, this man was more devil—not in the same way that sent faintish hearts skittering, but instead made her want to leave the room.

“I did no’ realize I’d have company,” he drawled, taking a few steps forward, toying with the button of his frockcoat.

Neither had she, and his intrusion felt most unwelcome. Bronwen wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin, and with her most imperial voice, said, “And ye are, sir?”

There was an almost imperceptible rise of his brows as though he’d expected her to react differently. “I’m surprised ye’ve no’ heard of me.” He gave a mocking pout. “I’m the cousin.”

The cousin. As if that was some sort of identifier. “I’ve several cousins myself, so I hardly think it prudent for ye to name yourself ‘the cousin,’ sir. I still know no’ who ye are.”

The stranger laughed, a grating sound that made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. He flashed her a sharp gaze before turning back to the eggs. She decided she didn’t need to know who he was, and setting down her napkin, prepared to rise until she heard his next words and sank back into her chair with a chill.

“Interesting. Well, given I know who ye are, Bronwen Holmes, it seems only fair that I should share my identity with ye. I’m Hector Irvine, and I am cousin to Euan and his brood of sisters. Heir to the baronies of Drum and Bonshaw.”

With years of practice at hiding her emotions and reaction, Bronwen was able to do so now when she wanted to gape. Why hadn’t any of them ever mentioned Hector or the fact that he was staying at the house? Or that he was also an heir to the very same barony as Euan? She recalled he’d mentioned at one point it was still being decided. Was that because this man was contesting it?

Bronwen found the entire situation to be odd. The family had been so open with her about everything else. Why keep this one thing a secret? Besides that, she couldn’t help but wonder what the man was doing here. No one had mentioned they had a visitor, let alone that it was him.

She felt extremely uneasy. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end in the same way it always did when she was in danger. But this man couldn’t possibly pose a threat to her safety, could he? Aye, he knew her name, but perhaps that was because one of the family members or servants had shared it. It wasn’t as if her identity within the house was top secret. If it were, then she wouldn’t have gone to the ball.

So why did she feel so strange?

When she said nothing, he looked at her over his shoulder. “Ah, so my name does no’ ring a bell,” he said, a smile curling his lips that made her feel unsafe.

“I’m afraid no’, sir.” She kept her voice as neutral as possible.

He heaped his plate with just about everything while Bronwen suppressed a shudder. There was something so sinister in the line of his shoulders. She couldn’t quite decipher what about him made her skin crawl—besides the entire package. She watched him move slowly toward the table, eyes on her, daring her to move. When he sat down opposite her at the table, she lost her appetite. How could she eat with the way he was looking at her, as though he’d make a meal of her?

“Well, I suppose I can make sense of ye no’ knowing.” He shrugged and scooped some of the scrambled eggs, shoveling them into his mouth, chewing around a smile as he watched her. “Are ye no’ going to eat? Your eggs will get cold.”

Dutifully, Bronwen forked a bite of egg and shoved it into her mouth, which had gone dry. He smiled as if to say, “That’s a good lass,” and she wished she could spit it out.

The man mused to himself, eyebrows wiggling as he smeared butter on his toast, “My dear cousins would no’ want to spoil all the fun and tell ye their big secret.”

Secret.

Bronwen swallowed, the food she’d eaten thus far forming what felt like a lead ball in her belly. A sip of tea did not help. Not only was she now contending with this creepy stranger, but her mind was whirling about his mention of a secret. She’d told Euan so much about herself. And after last night… Euan had confessed his love to her and she to him. He’d asked her to marry him, and she’d agreed—albeit it had taken a commotion in the alleyway with the brutes who were after her, but still. They’d agreed to wed. They’d made love all night. She’d curled up in his arms and fell comfortably asleep. He’d told her she could trust him, confide in him. Yet, he’d not afforded her the same deference.

Not if there was a secret.

This man held it and was here in this house. Had he been here last night? Longer? Was he somehow the secret they were keeping hidden? Bronwen couldn’t understand why they would hide him and what he meant to them. Did he know what happened between her and Euan? There were so many questions, and no one here to answer them. Bronwen flicked her gaze toward the door, willing Euan or one of his sisters to come in. But alas, the entrance remained empty.

And she most definitely wasn’t going to ask this man. From what she gathered of him, he’d take pleasure in revealing whatever it was they’d kept hidden. The way he stared her down, he was practically willing her to ask.

When she remained silent, he put down his fork and leaned back in his chair. He gazed about the room, assessing.

“Well, ’tis too bad they’ll lose all this.” Hector spread his arms wide, indicating the room and perhaps even everything that Euan and his sisters held dear.

Despite the turmoil in her stomach, Bronwen attempted another bite of food, if only to appear that she wasn’t truly concerned about what he was saying. “Lose all of it?” The food was tasteless and rubbery in her mouth.

“Aye.” Hector lifted his teacup and stared at her over the rim, searching her face for any hint she might know what he was saying. “There’s a race to the finish between him and me.”

“A race?” She shook her head with a little laugh, dipping her fork into the eggs. “I’m afraid ye’re speaking in riddles, sir, and I was at a ball until quite late into the evening.”

“I am shocked, I tell ye.” Hector slapped the table, and though she tried hard not to react, she was certain he caught her wince. “I thought ye were part of the scheme. The way the two of ye looked at each other, I would have thought ye were in love. Or at least pretending it. I confess I thought it was the latter. Euan’s no’ really the one-woman type, which is what was going to make this so much fun.” He laughed and scooped up a massive bite of eggs and shoved them in his mouth.

But then she realized what he’d said, and her blood chilled in her veins. The way they’d looked at each other…When had he seen them? The man had been spying, watching. A cold knot of fear thudded in her belly as she imagined him slinking around the gardens at the ball or outside the corridor to her bedroom. Worse still, sitting in the wardrobe and peeking through the crack.

He pointed his fork at her. “Ye have to be in on the ruse. Ye’re lying. I must say it’s been well done. I was worried for a minute, but now, ye’ve shown me I have nothing to be concerned about.”

She didn’t like the accusation about whatever it was he thought she was part of. This ruse he kept talking about. She was more caught up in the fact that he’d been watching her, and she felt extremely violated by that.

Irritation swept through Bronwen, and that ire was overshadowing any confusion she might have had before. The facts about the secret and what had been kept from her paled in comparison to what he was saying to her now. This man was talking in circles, and she had no idea what in the blazes he meant. “Sir, I still do no’ know what ye’re talking about, and I’ll ask ye to be clear. Are ye saying ye’ve been spying on me?” Her voice came out a bit tarter than she had intended, but she didn’t feel guilty about it in the slightest.

“So forthright.” He grinned, pieces of egg stuck between his teeth. “I like that. And so I’ll tell ye exactly what ye want to know.” He slurped at his tea and then said, “There’s been a race between Euan and me to see who can catch a bride first, make her fall in love with us, and then have our bairns. Whoever wins gets all this.” He held up his hands, indicating the room, and on a grander scale, everything that Euan held dear. “And more. Drum Castle is on the table, as well as Bonshaw Tower.”

The last few words sounded as though they were coming at her through a bubble as blood rushed through her skull. So this was the secret. And why he must have thought she was in on it. Pretending to be in love with Euan. My God, she was a fool.

“Like a bet?” she managed to ask, though her voice sounded very far away. Bets she knew well. Bronwen despised gambling—that was behind the demise of her parents. She took a sip of tea in hopes it would ease the lump in her belly that was slowly swelling and spreading itself through her limbs.

Was everything a lie? The way Euan had charmed her, toyed with her since the moment she’d entered his house. The confession of love…begging her to be his wife. The taking of her virginity to trap her. Had he actually meant it when he asked her to marry him, or was that all part of his massive scheme to win a bet and his inheritance? And to think that Maggie and the rest were in on it. Bronwen’s chest felt as if it were going to explode, and every breath became painful. Before, her face had felt cold and bloodless. Now heat rushed there as her anger and disappointment rose. She’d known it was too good to be true.

How stupid could she have been? To think that man of noble blood, a man as handsome and well off and wonderful as Euan, would love her. That his sisters would want to be her friend.

She was going to be sick.

“Aye, exactly like a bet. And I’m going to win.” Hector flashed a grin that said as much and also promised not to be pleasant about it.

Despite her vision blurring and her body going numb, she could still utter words, however weakly. “How so?”

Hector’s grin widened, taking on the look of a demented wolf. “Because ye’re going to marry me.”

Bronwen dropped her fork with a clatter on her plate and sat back, her spine flattening to the chair. Had she heard correctly? This man was insane if he thought she was going to marry him. That was a mad scheme and never going to happen. Now that she knew the truth about Euan, she’d be remedying their false engagement. “I beg your pardon, sir? I will no’ marry ye, nor anyone else.”

He looked a little surprised to hear that, as if he’d been expecting her to announce her engagement to Euan was off, and she’d gladly take up with him instead. Thirty minutes ago, she might have proudly boasted her betrothal, but now she knew too much.

“As I said, lass, I know who ye are.” Hector’s gaze darkened ominously, and all the smiles were gone from him now, however sinister they’d been. No more laughter. All the cruelty she’d seen lurking beneath the surface laid itself out for her to see. “When I found out about ye, I looked into your past. No’ too many Bronwen Holmes in Edinburgh, especially matching your description.”

His gaze fell to ogle her breasts in a way that made her feel undressed and unclean. Not at all the way Euan had appreciated her. God, but she’d been so stupid. Last night, she’d thought she was special. In love. Going to be cherished for the rest of her life. But Euan had said as much when he first met her, and so had his sisters—he could charm the stockings off of any woman he wanted. And she just so happened to be the closest and easiest target. From the beginning, he’d not taken their lessons seriously, had made only noncommittal noises about finding a bride, but had worked hard to court her.

But Euan’s treachery was not the point right now. Currently, she needed to deal with this man who knew too much about her.

“Seems as though ye’ve got a few men on your tail that want something from ye. I’ll pay them off.” Hector’s voice drew her back. Was he the reason they’d found her at the ball?

She pressed her spine so hard into the spindles of the chair that she was doubtless going to have bruises to mark the occasion. The lead lump in her belly was now a ball of fire, and she kept having to swallow to keep herself from casting up her accounts. Euan had lied to her. A lot. Confessed his love to her, heard her confession to him in turn. And it was all a lie. A ruse to get money, property. A way to get things. And this man knew about her, her parents, the brutes that were after her.

She’d been a pawn, again. And now this man would make her one too.

The family she sought, a future where she wouldn’t be used, had all been a big fat lie. A challenge in a long string of conquests for Euan. And now for his cousin. The pain in her chest was unbearable, as if she’d been stabbed repeatedly in the heart. Almost as excruciating was that his sisters, whom she’d let in and loved in turn, had also lied to her.

She wanted to run. To excuse herself from the table. Slip out of the house and back to her cousins, asking for help one final time. But this man knew too much. If he knew who she was, he would know her cousins, and the way evil dripped on him like water in the rain, she was certain he would make her pay through them.

More so, though she’d thought those brutes wouldn’t find her in this imposter’s guise, they had—and likely at this foul man’s behest. What happened to her last night in the alley had likely been Hector’s doing. But why? Was he trying to ruin Euan’s chances? If he were willing to have her attacked in the streets, there was no telling the lengths he’d go to.

But Euan had saved her, Bronwen’s heart lamented. There had to be some feeling inside him if he was willing to put his own life in harm’s way for her. Perhaps he’d only done that because she was already his mark. And he didn’t want to lose a bet.

Then why make love to me? To trap her further, she supposed.

“I can see your mind whirling, lass, and ye need no’ trouble yourself so much. What I offer is genuine and true.” His face was serious now and a little kind. Well, not kind. Pity was what she saw. “I will offer ye a safe home, and ye’ll be well cared for. After all, ye’ll be the reason I get what I want, what I deserve. How could I no’ cherish ye?”

Cherish her… Bile rose in her throat at the idea of him touching her. Doing anything to her. This was not what she wanted. Hector would make her his broodmare. This was a nightmare.

He picked at something between his two front teeth. “There is one stipulation that we’ll have to work on.”

“What stipulations?” She frowned.

“Love is a tricky thing, is it no’?” he said, ignoring her question. “I will love that ye helped me, and ye will love that I helped ye. Thus, we will be loving each other. I think it works.”

This was preposterous, what he was suggesting. She had visions of herself lying in bed while he pawed at her, of him locking all the doors so she could never escape. Never, ever, ever would she let that become her fate. “Nay, sir.” Her voice was quiet at first, but standing up for herself, she gathered some steam, and her next words were filled with more conviction. “I do no’ think this works at all. I will no’ be going with ye.”

Hector let out a long-suffering sigh and shook his head at her as if she were a wayward child who’d said she wouldn’t eat her peas and not a grown woman who’d refused him marriage and breeding. “I thought that might be what ye said about it.” He snapped his fingers.

The two criminals who’d attacked her in the alleyway—the very same bastards who had chipped her tooth—came through the doorway, large grins on their faces. The shock made her gasp, and her hand went to her throat. Both men bore the marks of Euan’s handling.

How in Hades had Hector gotten these ruffians to come with him?

“I think ye’ve met my friends before,” Hector was saying, but his words sounded as though they were far away.

The two men smiled at her, the Ts in their beards bending. Bronwen’s gaze snapped back to Hector. Was he somehow involved Prince and The Trojan?

She was too paralyzed by fear to move. The worst of her nightmares seemed to be coming true.

The men took up the space behind Hector, and she tried hard to swallow around the eggs threatening to rise in her throat.

“If ye know what’s good for ye, and for that of the six lasses upstairs, ye’ll come with me willingly,” Hector said, his fingers steepled in front of him as he stared her down.

Bronwen didn’t say a word, stunned into silence. Her mind whirled about what could happen to the Irvine sisters if she didn’t agree to go with Hector. Maybe if they waited for a little longer, somebody would wake up and come into the dining room. Save her. Euan had taken on the two men before; he could do so again. And one of the footmen could pounce on Hector.

But like every morning that she arose early, breakfast was laid out for her with not a servant in sight. Just as she liked it.

“Ye’re hesitating,” Hector mused. “Must say I’m surprised. If ye had no interest in saving your own skin, I thought their lives precious enough for ye.”

Bronwen tossed her head, pretending she didn’t care for the sisters at all. But she was resolved. She’d go with him and then figure out a way to escape. That way, the lying Irvines were safe, at least. They might have deceived her, but that didn’t mean she was going to betray them. “But if what ye said was true, they lied to me.”

“Or they did no’ know.” Giving an inkling that maybe Euan’s sisters were in the dark, Hector pushed back in his chair and stood. Lord, but she’d much rather believe that about them than the opposite. “The time to decide is over. And let’s be honest. I was no’ going to let ye decide anyhow. Get up.”