Page 54 of The Highlander’s Dangerous Desire

She didn’t sound fatigued. Nor did she look it as she swept from the room, her head held high and her back straight as a hunting arrow. She looked and sounded angry - and unless he was missing something, the focus of her vexation seemed to be himself. But Ewan had no idea why.

“Ye’d best go after her, if ye ever want tae get tae the heart o’ what’s upsettin’ her.” Catriona’s husband, Evan, spoke up. “There’s only two ways tae ken what angers a woman - ask her, or be prepared tae duck the crockery when she decides ‘tis time fer ye tae ken whether ye want tae or nae.”

“Och, I have never thrown crockery!” Catriona protested. “Nor has Niamh!”

“Ye threw pillows. And once a rock.” Her husband countered. He caught Ewan’s eye again. “Better tae ask, an’ spare yerself the grief ye’ll face if she has time tae worry over the matter in her mind.”

“He’s right. Niamh didnae throw things, but she tried tae get me dumped from my saddle once or twice when she was vexed with me.” Alistair stated. Beside him, Niamh blushed.

Ewan nodded and rose from the table. “Ye’re right.”

He wasn’t sure why Grace was angered by their discussion, or if there was something else on her mind, but they’d only just begun to mend their strained relationship. He wasn’t going to allow his pride to cause it to fray a second time. It was best to get to the heart of the matter.

He left the room and followed Grace.

She wasn’t in the hall when he emerged, but a quick query to one of the servants revealed that she’d returned to her rooms. Ewan followed, and knocked lightly on the closed door. He heard her speak, and took it as an invitation to enter.

Grace was pacing by the fire, her expression pensive. When she saw him, her jaw tightened. “I do not wish to speak to you.”

Ewan raised an eyebrow at the heat in her voice. “Ye let me in.”

“I thought you were Niamh. Or Catriona.”

“Well, I’m nae. An’ ye can talk tae me as well as either.” Ewan folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Especially as ye seem tae be fair vexed with me, and I dinnae ken what I’ve done tae earn it.”

“Perhaps I did not care for the conversation.” Grace tossed her head.

“An’ what o’ it?” Ewan frowned. “’Twas only Alistair suggesting ways tae find me a spouse.”

Grace’s jaw clenched. “Do you know how often I have heard such talk? Do you think I enjoy listening to people arrange potential marriages for young women who are likely to be given little say in the matter?”

Ewan huffed. “Ye cannae think that I’d tak’ a woman against her will. I wouldnae wed a lass who didnae choose tae wed me.”

“Making a choice to wed is not the same as thing as having a desire to do so. We both know that Niamh had little desire when your brother claimed her as his bride.” Grace snapped.

Ewan did his best to stifle his own irritation. “’Tis nae the same. And me braither wouldnae have married her if she’d truly refused.”

“But he carried her from her home. And claimed her as his betrothed before they knew each other.”

“’Twas an emergency, and time was o’ the essence. I’d nae…” Ewan’s words stumbled to a stop as Grace cut him off.

“Is time not of the essence for you as well? Is that not why you asked that I pretend to be your betrothed?” Grace’s eyes flashed, anger snapping across her features. “And since the ruse cannot be continued forever - what then? Will you simply marry yourself off to the first woman your brother chooses for you? Or the first who seems ‘acceptable’ and willing?” The last word was laced with venom.

“’Tis nae an uncommon practice, in Scotland or England, lass. And I say it again… I’d nae wed a lass who didnae choose tae wed me. Ye ought tae ken that I’m nae so desperate as tae treat a lass dishonorably. Why are ye so…” Ewan trailed off as a possible explanation dawned. “Are ye jealous?”

Grace’s cheeks went red. “Why should I be?”

Ewan found himself relaxing, almost amused by her attempt. “Askin’ that’s nae the same as telling me yer nae.”

“I have no reason to be…”

“Still nae a denial.” Ewan stepped closer. “Are ye jealous that I might marry another?”

“Of course, I am not. It is not as if you have given me any reason, when you have already made it clear that you have no interest in me.”

Ewan stopped, torn between amusement and anger. “Ye cannae be serious?”

“You were quick to pull away from me, after that night.” Grace’s cheeks were dark crimson in the firelight, the flush creeping over her collarbone in a manner Ewan would have been enticed by at any other time.