Striving to keep her eyes averted, she pouted and raised her chin, feigning a careless manner, even as her heart was pounding so loudly, she was afraid he could hear it. She licked her suddenly-dry lips.
“Of course, I’ve nae looked upon a naked lad. Ye’re a barbarian tae walk around like that before a lady and shame me in such a wicked manner.”
He was still chuckling in a most infuriating way as he pleated the fabric and belted it around his waist, tossing the tail of the kilt over his shoulder and fastening it with his gold brooch.
He pulled on his knee-length leather boots and shrugged into a black woolen jacket.
Then he turned and stood before her. It would be dreadfully bad manners not to study him in his Highland finery.
“There, lass.” He raised himself to his full height and straightened his shoulders, holding his head high. “Is this nay a bonnie tartan?”
There was no possibility of tearing away her gaze. He was utterly magnificent to look upon, but,God’s hooks,she’d not allow him to see how he impressed her and how her heart fluttered and her knees weakened at the sight of him.
“Aye,” she said, favoring him with a wry grin. “Ye’ll maybe pass fer a fine nobleman. But yer hair needs the comb through it.And ye’d best be quick before the ravens discover a new place to nest.”
He laughed and ran the comb through his length of dark hair and tied it at his nape with the leather strip.
She gave him a grudging nod. “Better. That is a slight improvement on yer appearance.” She made a show of studying him. “The way ye looked earlier I could well have mistaken ye fer some sort of blackguard – a bandit, or a pirate or, at the very least a ne’er dae well.”
He bowed mockingly from the waist. “’Twould ne’er dae fer me tae offend yer delicate sensibilities, wife. I thought ye had a fondness fer the rough-and-ready Highland lads?”
She pondered this, her finger under her chin, her eyes dancing with mischief.
“Mayhap I dae have a preference fer a bold, wicked, Highlander, over a bony, old English lord.”
He laughed. “’Tis glad I am tae hear that lass, as I’m neither bony nor English.”
“Why yes,” her lips quirked in a grin. “I see ye’re neither of those…”
Looking far too pleased with himself, he turned to go. “Well, wee wifey, dinnae take too long tae don yer finery. I shall await ye in the study so that ye may enter the hall on me arm.”
She frowned, and he added hastily. “Nay making love, merely acting the part of a proper husband escorting his goodwife tae supper.”
Before she could make any further comment, he had opened the door and was gone.
CHAPTER NINE
Once Annora was alone, she rang the bell to request an ewer of warm water to be brought so she could rinse, given she had already had a bath and washed her hair. Although Edmund had said nothing, she was aware her appearance would be scrutinized by everyone present. Comments would be made about the possible future laird’s wife and whether she would be accepted by the clan.
She pushed away the vexatious thought that she was planning to depart for the Continent as soon as two weeks had elapsed. At least, for tonight, she would be Edmund’s lady and not cause any heartache for him.
Once she had thoroughly sponged herself, she called for a chambermaid to help don the petticoat and chemise Tyra had so kindly provided. It was, again, a perfect fit.
She took a seat by the fire for the lass to comb out the tangles in her thick braid. Then, taking a length on each side, framing her face, the girl made two long braids which she fastened togetherwith ribbons behind her head and left the remaining tresses flowing freely in golden waves down her back. After the chamber maid had left with a curtsy, Annora looked around for her little purse, where she had stashed her gold coins before she had left Castle Tioram.
Inside, she found a pair of fringed-gold ear bobs and fastened them to her ears.
Studying herself in the looking glass, she turned this way and that adjusting her skirt, her sleeves and the annoyingly low neckline. At last, satisfied she was looking her best, she made her way out of the chamber and along the passageway.
As she neared the study, her palms went suddenly damp and her mouth dry. Would she be able to maintain the charade that she was married to Edmund?
What if curious clan members should question her about him, as Tyra had done that morning. She licked her parched lips, wishing she’d thought to ask Edmund to tell her more about his life at Dùn Ara and the Laird Tòrr MacKinnon, his boyhood friend.
She made her way to the study, her mind going over every little scrap she knew about her so-called husband.
Edmund was at the table with Lionel, the two of them poring over the numerous parchments spread before them. They both got to their feet as she walked in.
As she made her way across the room she caught the sound of Edmund’s sharply indrawn breath. He stepped over, took her hand and pressed it to his lips, his eyes never leaving her face.
