Page 37 of In Bed with a Highland Brute

“Aye, I have. I am tae be married, am I nae? And Harper is a fine woman.”

Murdoch tilted his head to the side as he looked at his brother. He’d seen fondness on Clyde’s part during the celebrations, and had noted they often held hands, but now Murdoch saw something different in Clyde’s face.

It isnae love. Nae yet, at least.

“Is all well with her?” Murdoch asked.

“Aye, aye, how it is with a bride-tae-be, or so I think, anyway.” Another booming voice joined them. They both smiled and turned to face the doorway of the study.

At last, their father appeared. Fergus swept away the guard who followed him.

“I hardly need protection in my own study, dae I? Take yer pike and go and guard the keep door, for Lord almighty’s sake.” Fergus shut the door behind the guard and leaned against the door, huffing. “Dinnae ye two laugh. Someday ye’ll see the laird cannae go tae the privy without being followed. Be prepared, Murdoch.”

“I dinnae want tae think about it.” Murdoch shook his head.

As Fergus dropped down into a vast armchair by the fire, preferring this seat to the desk, he propped his feet up on the stool in front of him, so they were closer to the flames. Murdoch took the opportunity to move toward his father and ask a question that had been bothering him, ever since the feast the night before.

“Father,” Murdoch asked, crossing the room with Clyde at his side. “Why is it necessary tae have me wedding afore Clyde’s?”

“I’m sorry?” Fergus looked up distractedly, kicking off his boots and stretching out his feet by the flames.

“Clyde’s wedding has been planned fer years,” Murdoch said simply. Even if he and Eloise were now planning to get married, there was no rush.

I need time tae get control of this attraction first. Or what will happen on the wedding night?

He thought of Eloise and how he’d left her behind in the bed, sleeping peacefully with her hair wild and her night rail slipping down from her shoulder. The image was intoxicating, and he had to hurry to sit in another chair to make sure that if his body rose, no one else would see it.

“Aye, Harper is concerned that we’re rushing our wedding plans too,” Clyde said, standing behind Murdoch’s chair and leaning on the back. “She’s been acting strange recently. Spends more time with that maid of hers.”

Murdoch thought of the maid, Beatrice. The day before he’d managed to avoid her, though he’d heard from a guard once that she was looking for him. Murdoch resolved to avoid her as much as he possibly could from now on.

“Ah, that is just cold feet before the wedding.” Fergus waved a hand in the air in dismissal. “Ye ask me though why there is a need fer the weddings tae happen so fast, and I will tell ye.” Fergus leaned forward, looking between the two of them. “I fear war is imminent.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“What do ye mean?” Murdoch said, his hands stiffening around the arms of the armchairs as he stared at his father.

All signs of Fergus’ usual cheer slipped away. He grimaced, his face contorting to something of agony as he shook his head.

“I didnae want tae believe it, but I cannae avoid it anymore.” He sighed and sat back once more. “The feud with the Douglas clan has always been a tense one. The son has recently taken over as laird and the rumors are he is thirsty fer war, fer a chance tae prove himself.”

“The Douglas son? He must be only a child,” Murdoch muttered, remembering all the tales he’d heard of the Douglas clan over the years.

“Nae yet more than seventeen, surely,” Clyde agreed from behind him.

“And nothing more dangerous than a boy who thinks he is a man,” Fergus said with world weariness, wriggling his toes in front of the fire. Folding his arms, he stared at those flames. “I’ve prepared the soldiers fer battle, if it comes tae it, and in the meantime, I am strengthening every part of the clan I can. The council is strong, there are good men there who would advise ye, Murdoch, if something… well, if something were tae happen tae me.”

Murdoch sat forward, just as Clyde moved to stand at the side of the chair.

“Father, ye willnae die in war.” Murdoch insisted.

“Nae man can say that for certain.” Fergus smiled sadly. “Look at me, me boys. I am nae the great warrior I once was. I’m old, fat.” He laughed and patted his rounded stomach. “I hold a feast better than I can a sword these days. Nay, I ken I must prepare fer all eventualities. So, ye ask me why I hurry the marriages? This is the reason.” Calmly, he looked between Murdoch and Clyde. “Unity makes us stronger. Clyde, by marrying Harper, it unites us in alliance with her father. It will give us more men, if we need them. As for ye, Murdoch. Well, there is nothing that makes a clan stronger than the surety of the line. Once ye produce an heir, people will be more settled.”

An heir?

Murdoch imagined it. He saw a boy in his arms, a child to raise and care for. It delighted him, startling so, to think of being a father.

Yet his imagination shifted to how he would create that child. He pictured being in that bed with Eloise again, yet this time, there was nothing between them. Her hands trailed in his hair as his own hands went wandering, lifting one of her legs to reach for her center and listen to her gasp in his ear.