Page 10 of Under the Laird’s Promise

Even if that word might get him killed.

CHAPTER FOUR

The combined party made camp as twilight deepened, Sinclair green and black mingling uneasily with MacBain blue and white around fires that crackled in the damp air. Tavish had negotiated tense alliances before, had shared meals with men he didn't trust. But he'd never done it while pretending to be betrothed to a woman he'd met hours before—a woman whose life now depended on how well he could lie. None of that compared to sitting across a campfire from Keir Sinclair while pretending to be betrothed to a lass he'd just met.

The combined party had made camp in a clearing ringed by ancient pines. Sinclair's men outnumbered his two to one, their green and black visible even in the dying light. They'd set watches, distributed oatcakes and dried meat, built fires that crackled and spat in the damp air. Now they sat in uneasy clusters, eyeing each other like dogs circling before a fight.

Greg caught Tavish's gaze from across the flames again.

Maighread sat beside him, close enough that her shoulder nearly touched his. She'd been silent since they'd dismounted, her face drawn tight. Exhaustion, probably. Fear, certainly. The lass had been attacked, chased, covered in mud, and then had claimed a complete stranger as her betrothed.

A typical Tuesday in the Highlands, really.

"We need tae talk." He kept his voice low, pitched only for her. "Privately."

She turned to him, grey eyes shadowed. "Is that wise? With Sinclair watching?"

"He's already suspicious. Better we get our story straight now than fumble it later." Tavish stood, offering his hand. "Come. We'll walk intae the trees where we cannae be overheard."

Maighread hesitated only a moment before taking his hand. Her fingers were cold, trembling slightly. He pulled her tae her feet and kept hold of her hand as they walked away from the fire.

Behind them, conversation quieted. Every man in that clearing was watching. Tavish could feel their gazes like blades between his shoulder bones.

They moved intae the darkness beyond the firelight, far enough that voices wouldnae carry. The forest pressed close, full of night sounds and hidden threats. Tavish guided her tae a large pine, its trunk broad enough tae shield them from view of the camp.

"All right." Tavish released her hand. "Start talking. How long have we supposedly been betrothed?"

"Recent." She wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. "Very recent. We kept it quiet because of the political situation. Me faither's illness."

"And how did we meet?"

"Through our faithers' friendship, obviously."

"Obviously." He studied her face in the dim light. "They were friends and allies long before we met. And what exactly daes yer faither ken about me?"

"That ye're honorable. Trustworthy." Her chin lifted. "That ye owe him a debt."

He shouldn't have mentioned that. The words had slipped out in the heat of the moment, and now she was throwing them back at him like a weapon.

"That's between yer faither and me," he said quietly. "It daesnae concern ye."

"It daes if it's the only reason ye agreed tae this madness."

Tavish looked away, jaw clenching. The debt was significant. Life-changing. Soul-crushing. And none of her concern.

He studied her face, noting the intelligence behind those storm-grey eyes.

"Ye're clever. But clever only gets ye so far when ye're lying tae a man like Keir Sinclair."

"Then help me lie better."

"I'm trying." His voice came out rougher than intended. "But ye've put us both in danger with this scheme."

Wind picked up, cold and sharp. Maighread shuddered, teeth starting tae chatter. The temperature had plummeted with nightfall, frost forming on the pine needles overhead.

Tavish swore under his breath. She was still wearing that mud-stained cloak, soaked through from earlier. No wonder she was freezing.

He stepped closer, positioning himself between her and the worst of the wind. Close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating from him, but not touching. The tree trunk pressed against her back, and he braced one hand against the bark beside her head.