Page 13 of In Bed with a Highland Brute

It had been a comfort for Eloise when she discovered she had a twin sister, Scarlett. When their mother had first revealed the truth to her in confidence, Eloise had been shocked. She had given birth to identical twins and was worried people would think of it as a sign of witchcraft. Desirous to protect both of her daughters, their mother had crept out of the castle one night to conceal one. She gave Scarlett to a man she thought would place her baby with a loving family. Unfortunately, her wishes were not adhered to.

When their mother was dying and told Eloise the truth, she resolved to find her twin sister. It was only through finding her again that Scarlett had found her own happiness and fallen in love with Laird Noah Chattan. Since then, Eloise and Scarlett were close indeed. The difference in their upbringing though was sometimes stark. Though Scarlett had suffered an unhappy upbringing, Eloise sometimes comforted herself that at least she hadn’t had to put up with their father. He was a curse that only she and Avery had had to suffer.

“Come, Eloise, this way.” Laird Gordon appeared beside her and offered his arm to her. She smiled at him and took his arm, admiring how gentlemanly the laird was as he escorted her toward the front steps that led to the castle keep. “What do you think then, eh? Such celebrations, such excitement.”

“I am marveling at it in truth, my Laird,” she whispered to him. “It is a wondrous place indeed. I didnae expect it tae be so big, nor so full of life.”

“Nay? Murdoch, what have ye been telling yer betrothed about yer home?” Laird Gordon looked behind them as they halted on the top step. Eloise glanced behind her too, finding Murdoch’s eyes were keenly on her. That look she could make no sense of, and she flinched, wondering what it meant.

“I have told her but little. I wished fer her tae see it herself.”

She looked to the heavens, showing him that she was pleading with God to have enough patience to put up with his mystifying ways.

Why did he never speak of this place? Why never talk of the fact he is the heir tae the Gordon lairdship?

The great entrance hall was no less busy than the courtyard. Servants hurried to and fro and other guests had clearly already arrived. Trunks and coffers were dropped at the bottom of the stairs as servants tried to gather them, ready to take to chambers. Ladies and gentlemen waved at Laird Gordon and bowed in greeting. He said many of their names in return and wished them a good stay, but he never once left Eloise’s side, with Murdoch following behind.

“Now then, here is our plan for the day.” He halted by the bottom of the stairs and turned to face his son. “There is a feast tae celebrate the return of ye and Clyde this evening. It shall be in the great hall. Until then, I trust ye can show yer betrothed what her future home will be like.” Laird Gordon chuckled deeply. “Dinnae spend too long in yer chamber, Murdoch. I ken how men at yer age think, but I dinnae want people talking even with ye two betrothed.”

Eloise’s eyebrows shot up as she retrieved her hand from Laird Gordon’s arm. Murdoch seemed very amused by her discomfort, clearly fighting a smile.

“I shall of course behave, Father.”

“Good lad.” He clapped Murdoch around the arm then nodded to a nearby maid. “Please, show them tae their chamber. Murdoch, it has been redecorated in yer absence. I hope ye will like the changes.”

“Thank ye, Father.” Murdoch went to walk up the stairs alone, but Eloise reached for him. She was after all here to play a part. There was something more she would have to do to complete the illusion. On the stairs she reached down and took his hand, entwining her fingers with his own. He was so shocked that he jerked his head toward her.

“Remember who we are now, Murdoch?” she whispered as they both glanced back down at Laird Gordon who was now greeting his other guests with arms open wide.

“Welcome, welcome indeed!” His voice boomed across the entrance hall.

“Aye. I remember,” Murdoch said with a startlingly deep voice. He pulled her up the stairs, leading the way with the maid in front of them. Eloise’s eyes traced the side of his face and the tightened muscles around his eyes. It was as if what she’d said had another meaning to him altogether.

What is going on?

They traipsed through the corridors, woodenly holding one another’s hand. The maid showed them to a chamber in one of the grey turrets, deep within the great towering heights of the building. She thrust open the door and Eloise at last released Murdoch’s hand, stepping inside.

The room was large, stretching across three different levels with a short step between each one. Upon the first was a round table with high-backed mahogany chairs. On the second were coffers and buffet cabinets, all neatly lined at the edge of the room, flanked by two thick glass windows made of stained glass. Their colored pains cast prisms of light on the wooden floorboards. On the final level was a broad bed, covered with wolf furs.

Eloise swallowed uncomfortably at the sight of it. With one bed, she knew what would be expected of her by the Laird of Gordon. Due to the tradition of sharing a bedchamber in this part of Scotland, she knew could not object in public, but she had every intention of complaining to Murdoch in private.

“Thank ye,” Murdoch said to the maid who placed down a jug of mead on a silver trencher. Two ornate goblets were placed beside it before she bobbed a curtsy and hastened from the room.

The moment the door closed behind her, Murdoch reached for the jug and filled one goblet to the very brim. He was still glugging from the cup as Eloise dropped the bag from her shoulder on the floor and rounded on him, with her hands on her hips.

“What in the name of the Lord are ye thinking of, Murdoch?” she demanded to know, hurrying toward him. He put down his goblet and poured out a second one, calmly and quietly passing it to her. When she frowned, he shrugged. “I am nae talking about nae giving me a drink. I’m asking what made ye change yer mind from the two of us parting tae me now pretending tae be yer betrothed in front of yer father and the whole of the Gordon clan?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Murdoch couldn’t answer. His eyes lingered on Eloise as he lifted the goblet to his lips and took another large gulp of the mead. The spiced honey drink slipped down his throat, quenching his thirst and the raging dry mouth he’d had ever since his father had stumbled upon him on the loch bank with Eloise beside him.

What am I thinking?

“Murdoch!” she raged, stepping toward him and planting her hands on the other side of the table.

“Never thought I’d hear ye lose yer temper, Eloise. Ye are always so calm,” he marveled, offering a wry smile.

“Well, the situation calls for it. I am nae so made of stone as ye seem tae think.”