Still, this wasn’t the first time he’d been forced to complete a task through unconventional means.
A rueful smile tugged at his lips. So caught up in the chaos, an important point he’d overlooked. This was a hindrance, no more.
In regard to the mission, naught of importance had changed. This unfortunate pretense would last but days, and throughout he would leave thelass untouched.
The runner he would send to announce Lord Balfour’s death would give her freedom. At least until the Bruce seizedLatharn Castle.
Tension ebbed from his body, and he focused on the benefits of the situation. He could ask questions of the servants without raising suspicion, and view the castle and ledgers as he pleased. As for the lass, instead of dreading the upcoming hours, he’d use the time to nurture her trust.
Aiden turned.
Gwendolyn hadn’t moved, but watched him with suspicion from the opposite side of a table topped with candles, the shifting of light exposing the concern in her eyes.
And why wouldna she be unsettled? She was a virgin. God knew what tripe the women within the castle had told her about the marriage bed. Her believing him a hard, callous warrior wouldn’t ease her disquiet.
To calm her fears and play true to who she thought he was, he must know what she’d been told about Balfour. “What kind of man do you think I am?”Aiden demanded.
Gwendolyn’s brows drew together. “Why?”
He strode to the table and poured himself another cup of wine. Aiden took a sip and met her eyes over the rim of his goblet. “We know little of each other, except what we have been told, rumoror otherwise.”
“’Tis said you are a fair man.”
The stubborn admission tempted him to smile, which he smothered. “And…?”
She slid a finger along the goblet’s rim as if coming to a decision. “That yourmen trust you.”
“Anything else?” he asked, frustrated that each bit of information she gave him was like a battle won.
She shot a quick glance at the bed, and her expression darkened with dismay.
God’s sword, he would end her worry. A few drops of blood would appease the crowd outside when they inspected the sheets in the morning. Aiden stormed to the bed, unsheathed his blade. At the slide of steel in his wake, he whirled.
Gwendolyn stood before him, proud, defiant. Nerves darkened her eyes, but the grip on her dagger remained firm. “I know my marital duties and will yield to your touch, but I will have your promise that ’twill not be done witha brutal hand.”
However much he admired her spirit, he doubted Lord Balfour would have tolerated such defiance. “Sheath your blade,” he ordered.
On a hard swallow, she again slanted a wary look toward the bed before leveling her gaze on him.
Frustration chipped away at his calm. “Itoldyou to secure your weapon.”
Her fingers whitenedon the handle.
With predatory steps, he crossed the room, his ire building with each step. “Do you believe displaying yoursgian dubhwill scare me?” Before she had a chance to reply, he seized her wrist.
She twisted hardto break free.
Aiden reached out to catch her, but she turned her body, throwing him off balance. They started to fall. Keeping a firm hold of her arm, he shifted to place himself between her and the floor, grunted as he hit, her landing squareon top of him.
Outrage flashed in her eyes. “You bastard!” Her knee tookprecarious aim.
With an oath, he flipped and pinned her, securing her wrists. “Release the dagger.”
“You willna take me like an animal!” she hissed.
“Had I wanted to bed you,” he said, his voice icy, “the deed would have been done.”
Her breaths coming fast, she struggled against his hold.
