Page 10 of When the Laird Conquers

“It isnae, and I certainly didnae,” the Laird replied without looking at her as he pushed back his chair.

“I daenae think there’ll be bloodshed,” Keith said, a smirk quirking his lips. “Unless ye’re inclined to make a mornin’ example of the English who wander too close to our territory.”

A chill ran down Agnes’s spine. She was an Englishwoman who had not just wandered too close, but had marched right into their territory.

“English?” The Laird’s eyes narrowed.

The other man nodded. “Aye, that’s what the villagers said. Strange men, askin’ questions. Strange enough that the village sent a rider and is askin’ for yer help.”

A sudden realization smacked Agnes’s brain, that chill becoming a tremor of panic. She held Lizzy tighter to her, as if those unknown English trespassers might be about to barge right through the door.

She got up and walked straight to the windows, pulling back the curtain just an inch to peek out at the sunlit world. It took her eyes a second to adjust to the glare, her gaze flitting this way and that, terrified that she would see a mane of bright red hair and the very last face she wanted to see. It didn’t help that there were several redheaded people down in the courtyard, tricking her eyes, ramping up her terror that, for all of that riding and determination, she had already been caught.

Lizzy began to fuss, as if sensing her concern, or perhaps sensing the potential proximity of her wretched father.

“It is all right, dearest one,” Agnes whispered against the baby’s fluffy red hair. “It is all right. It cannot be him. It simply cannot. It⁠—”

A stifled scream of fright escaped her lips as two strong hands came to rest on her shoulders. She whipped around, her stressed mind convinced that she was about to stare up into the nasty brown eyes of Edwin.

Instead, grey eyes, narrowed in something like concern, searched her face with a breathtaking intensity.

“Lass, I asked ye this last night, and I’ll ask ye again. Do I need to ki—” The Laird paused, frowning down at the fussing baby. A moment later, he rolled his eyes and mumbled, “Do I need to kiss them?”

As sweet as the gesture was, she couldn’t bring herself to smile. All thoughts of Edwin catching up to her had robbed her of any amusement. To kill the man would remove the problem; there was no mistaking that, but she didn’t want any blood on her hands. Or on the Laird’s.

She would not stoop to Edwin’s wickedness.

“I just… I cannot let them find me,” she rasped. “I cannot let them get near Lizzy, or I will lose her. And… I cannot lose her, my Laird. She is mine to protect. I promised I would.”

It was, in fact, the last thing she had ever said to her sister. A solemn vow that Lizzy would be taken care of, would know only love, and would never, ever come to any harm.

The Laird watched her as if he was reading her, studying the pages and chapters of her face, the secret stories in her eyes.

Agnes hugged Lizzy and kissed the baby’s head, so she would have a reason to look away from that searching, intense gaze, feeling suddenly very vulnerable, very exposed.

“Fine,” the Laird said gruffly.

“Fine?” She swallowed.

He puffed out a breath. “Ye’re stayin’ here. Ye protect that bairn, I’ll protect ye.”

“What?” she gasped. “You… Truly? You mean it?”

“Aye.”

“So, you will marry me?” Her demeanor brightened, a hopeful smile spreading across her face.

She had known she would have to marry one day, but this was surely the best reason to marry: to keep Lizzy safe and to keep the promise she had made to Christine. Few gentlemen would accept another man’s child as their own, much less one that hadn’t even been born to their brides, but⁠—

“Och nay, lass,” the Laird snorted.

“Then how⁠—”

He interrupted her with a sharp look. “But they’ll hear that ye’re me betrothed until they lose yer tracks, and I promise ye that they will.” He paused, slowly removing his hands from her shoulders, the accidental caress sending a faint tingle to the nape of her neck. “Lass, no one will dare to touch the Mad Laird’s bride.”

4

This is a mistake.