Page 53 of In Bed with a Highland Brute

Murdoch wriggled in his seat and folded his arms. Rather than looking at her or the book, he stared out across the garden.

Wait, is he embarrassed?

“A little but nae enough tae read freely,” he whispered softly, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I suppose ye think that is mad, dae ye nae?”

“Nae at all. Ye’re a soldier,” she reminded him. “Ye had nae cause tae learn.” He scratched the back of his head, still clearly uncomfortable. Determined to distract him, she sidled along the bench, so her side bumped into his. He snapped his gaze toward her now, his rather awkward movements stilling. “Now, pay attention. This is when our lesson begins.”

Eloise was pleasantly surprised at how well he listened to her now. She opened the book and taught him the letters, each in turn, before trying some of the simpler words. Murdoch worked hard, though he sat stiffly the whole time with his arms folded across his chest, as if trying to guard himself.

“Now, try this line.” Eloise pointed to a line in the book.

“I feel like a child,” Murdoch muttered with plain frustration in his tone.

Aye, there is a vulnerability tae him. One he doesnae want tae reveal tae anyone.

It made Eloise press her body to his side all the more, wanting to be closer to him and to let him know that he didn’t need to feel this way in front of her. She didn’t judge him for not knowing how to read.

“Try, please,” Eloise whispered, tapping the line again. Murdoch breathed deeply and turned his focus down to the book.

“‘The intent… intentions of God may be hard fer us to read.’” Apart from his one stumble, the words fell surprisingly easily from his tongue. “‘Yet I believe God has reasons fer every… thing that he chooses.’ This writer is a philosophical man,” Murdoch muttered, shaking his head.

“Look how well ye did that,” Eloise said, smiling in amazement. “Ye’re a quick learner, Murdoch.”

“I cannae tell if ye are genuinely complimenting me or being a little… patronizing.”

“Complimenting!” She laughed and elbowed him in the side. “Give it a few weeks and ye’ll gasp in awe at how easy it is fer ye tae read. Perhaps it’s down tae having a good teacher?” At her jest, he laughed warmly, looking out across the garden again.

“Aye, perhaps.” He nodded slowly. “A betrothed who can teach me tae read, eh? That’s something I wasnae expecting.” He laughed softly now.

Something in the words made Eloise stiffen. She thought before about what he had insinuated, that he was to marry another once.

Harper’s sister.

A pained feeling twisted Eloise’s gut. She realized with her hands tightening around the book in her grasp that it was jealousy, pure envy of the woman he was to marry.

Maybe he even asked this woman tae marry him, unlike me. He has only agreed tae marry me so my secret doesnae come out, and he can have a marriage of convenience.

“Would ye tell me about yer last betrothed?” she whispered, uncertain why she really asked the question.

Murdoch’s laughter abruptly died.

“What did ye say?” He jerked his head toward her. Slowly, she looked up from the book, fidgeting all the more now.

“Ye said ye were tae marry before once. What was she like? What happened tae her?” Eloise had many questions she wished to ask, but they all died on her tongue when she saw Murdoch’s expression.

His eyes narrowed to slits and he leaned away from her, so that there was no longer a part of their bodies that touched.

“Murdoch…” she whispered his name, disappointed at him pulling back from her.

“Why ask me these things?” he hissed, his anger plain.

“I wish tae ken about her, about ye. Is that so wrong?”

“Aye. Very wrong.” He snapped suddenly. There was a coldness to him now as he stood from the bench.

“Murdoch, please, dinnae run off. I can hardly run after ye so easily in my state.” She dropped the book on the bench beside them and moved forward, so she was perched on the very edge. “I just wish tae ken about her, about the betrothal ye had. There is nothing so wrong in that.”

“There is!” His voice was loud, booming as he spun back to face her. The anger in his eyes was so strong, the muscles in his neck pulled taut, that Eloise cowered back on the bench, shocked at the display. “I willnae speak of her. We willnae talk of her again.”