Page 11 of The Highland Laird’s Hellion Bride

Right. Alright. This is going to go well.

The horse was enormous. It stood at the foot of the stone steps, resembling something otherworldly. Dark and broad-chested, it was clearly a horse bred for war, same as his keeper. Magnus moved toward it without pausing his stride.

Elspeth looked around the dark courtyard for the carriage. There were carriages. Several of them. Her father’s among them.

She turned to Magnus, keeping her voice even. “Ye’ll ride alongside, aye? In the carriage.”

He stopped and turned to look down at her. “Carriage?” he asked flatly.

“Aye. The carriage. For traveling.”

He looked at her for a long moment. Then: “There is no carriage.”

She heard her own voice repeat, small and stunned, “No carriage?”

“Ye and I, we ride together.”

Before the words had fully registered, before her thoughts could assemble them into their full, terrifying meaning, he bent and lifted her clear off the stone steps. She made a small, startled sound as the world lurched sideways and she was suddenly airborne.

The gravel courtyard was a wrong, dizzying distance below her. One of his massive arms was clamped beneath her knees, and the other was wrapped tight around her waist.

At this proximity, the first thing she noticed was his scent. It reminded her of rain that had just fallen, cured leather, cold northern air, and something deeper beneath it. Something uniquely him. Α warm, dark, masculine note that had no name she could reach for because her heart was racing in her chest.

Oh Lord.

She looked up at the steps.

Katherine stood frozen in the doorway in her good green dress, an expression of pure, unadulterated horror on her face that she was making absolutely no effort to conceal. Their eyes met, and her mouth opened, but no sound came out.

Ye sold me to this man, who cares more about his sheep than building a home. Ye will answer for this.

Magnus lowered her into the heavy leather saddle and then mounted up behind her.

There was approximately no space between them. His broad chest was pressed flush against her back. His massive arms bracketed her on either side to take the leather reins, pinning her in place.

The horse shifted its great weight, and Elspeth gripped the pommel so tightly that her knuckles turned white. He did not seem to notice that tension, which was somehow far worse than if he had remarked on it.

“Daenae move,” he said, his deep baritone rumbling near her ear, his breath warm against her chilled skin.

She had not intended to move. In fact, she intended to remain rigidly still for the entire duration of whatever this madness was, and then have quite a lot of feelings about it later, privately, at a safe distance.

The horse began to walk.

The glittering lights of Bickerson Hall fell away behind them, disappearing into the mist. The road ahead was dark and cold and terribly long.

She could not shake the fact that she knew absolutely nothing about the man whose heart was beating steadily against her spine. Nothing, except that he knew exactly what to do with a lamb that wouldn’t feed, and that his lands were colder, and that he had come to the auction with a contract already drawn.

I have no idea what I am supposed to do next.

The horse trotted on, and she resigned herself to the fact that she could do nothing but obey the beast. For now.

Chapter Five

It is a sensible decision.

Magnus turned the thought over in his head during the long ride. By the time Ben Cruachan rose against the night sky, he had satisfied himself that the logic was sound.

The woman could manage livestock. She understood feed ratios, stubborn animals, and the difference between treating a symptom and finding its cause. She had answered every question without flinching and without performing, which was rarer than it should have been.