Chapter 3

CHAPTER THREE

" T his has tae be some jest." Murdoch jumped down off the rock and moved toward Eloise. She moved back a step, still holding onto that dagger, with such strength now that her knuckles turned white.

"Me jesting? Murdoch… ye are the man who has asked for an escort?" she asked.

"Well, thank ye for confirming why ye are here. Nae just riding through Clan Gordon then and stumbling upon me?" He folded his arms as he stopped in front of her.

Those cheeks blushed almost as crimson red as her hair.

"I didnae mean –" She broke off sharply, planting a hand over her lips and turning in a small circle. "Nay, nay, this cannae be happening."

"Ye and I are in agreement there." He grimaced. What a mess this was! He needed someone who could play the part connivingly of being his betrothed. How was the incredibly proper and polite Eloise, who was always so reserved, supposed to accomplish that? "Ye are an escort?"

"I…"

"Yer denial right now would be mad," he reminded her, his eyes wide.

"Oh, in the name of the wee man!" It was the largest outburst he'd ever heard from her. He actually managed to smile as she released her grasp of the dirk and turned in another of those mad circles, rubbing her temple with her gloved fingers.

"Hurrah, the woman as still as stone can curse."

"I'll say something worse in a minute now I am in yer company, I'm sure."

"Ah, ye wound me." He shook his head and glanced over his shoulder at the castle. He didn't have time for this, but he couldn't leave now. He was baffled, angry.

Why am I angry?

"Eloise?" He stepped toward her, and she leapt back. "Why are ye doing this? God's blood, what are ye thinking?"

"That is nae yer business."

"Nae me business?" he repeated and gestured to their position. "In case ye havenae noticed, it is my business when I am the man who has supposedly hired ye. I wrote tae a girl by the name of Victoria."

"Aye, she was busy. She sent me in her place." Eloise explained in a rush, shaking her head as she turned back to face him. "Murdoch, ye cannae tell anyone ye saw me here today. Please, nae one can ken what I dae." She stepped toward him, so close that Murdoch felt a tightening in his stomach.

Eloise had always had this distracting power of a fair face. He'd admired it many times, though it was usually easy to keep his distance. That changed now she was standing before him as a lass on a call.

"Ye're an escort?"

"How many times are ye going tae repeat it in bafflement!?"

"I fear another fifty times isnae enough." He shook his head. "I couldnae be more shocked if a kelpie leapt out of the loch behind us and greeted us both by shaking our hands with its hoof."

She sighed dramatically and stepped back.

"Nay, nay. Oh, how I wish time could turn back."

"It cannae." He followed her as she retreated to the horses. "Where are ye going?"

"Away from ye."

"What?" He hurried after her. He couldn't let her go now, or he'd have to walk into that castle alone. Placing a hand to the saddle of her black steed, he stood before her, his superior height dominating over hers. She froze, the two of them so close that her eyes widened, and he could see that blue hue all the more. "I cannae believe this," he muttered, staring at her. "After all yer high ways, how often ye lift that chin of yers and offer haughty looks–"

"So kind, Murdoch," she said with a false smile. "I am nae haughty."

"Ye think nae?" He wanted to laugh but couldn't manage it at that moment. "After all yer pride, ye are nothing but an escort."

"Murdoch! I should slap ye fer that." She raised a hand, but he reached out fast and caught her wrist, holding it back from him.

"I'd like tae see ye try," he whispered to her. They ended up tussling, with her falling into him. Her other hand went to his stomach to steady herself. She blushed a deeper shade of red than before and stepped back, wrenching her hand out of his.

"Dinnae insult me," she said darkly, reaching for the saddle once more. "Ye ken nothing of me life." Her voice broke in the middle. It was barely noticeable, but Murdoch had heard it. After all, he was so used to her performing everything perfectly, with that voice never shuddering for a single second, so that the barest hesitation was very noticeable indeed. "Wait…" She paused, not quite climbing into the saddle as she turned on her heel and faced Castle Gordon. "Clearly, I am nae the only one with secrets."

Murdoch sighed and folded his arms, falling still and quiet. It was what he usually did. Somehow, Eloise had managed to make him talk more recently.

"This is yer home?" She gestured to the castle. "But the letter tae Victoria said ye needed a lass tae play yer betrothed." Her eyes darted over his clothes.

Murdoch still wore his soldier's garb, but on his chest was the Gordon clan brooch, along with a strip of the clan tartan across his shoulder. She pointed between them now, her head cocking to the side. The strength of that blue gaze as it appraised him tempted him to fidget, but he resisted.

She looks at me as nae other has looked at me.

"Ye are the Laird of Gordon's son!?" she spluttered, stepping toward him again.

"Shh," he pleaded with her. "Aye, I am."

"Why did ye never say anything?"

"It was easier that way."

"Easier?" She laughed at the idea, shaking her head. "Does Noah ken?"

"He does by now I expect. Ian would have told him."

"What in the wee man's name is going on?"

"Ah, two curses in as many minutes. Ye are changing before me eyes, Eloise." He gestured to her, quite struck by how different she was. So flushed and with her voice high-pitched, she was no longer that perfect image of a lady, unmovable, proud and fine. She was real and human.

"As are ye before mine." She held his gaze. "This is madness. Ye wished fer me tae be yer betrothed?"

"I needed a woman tae act the part, but this isnae going tae work." He realized with a darkness settling on his mind. Eloise was too proper to pretend to be in love with him, and he couldn't pretend to be in love with her. This was Avery's and Scarlett's sister. His friendship to Avery meant he couldn't possibly even pretend to be Eloise's lover, let alone be the man that paid her as an escort. "Ye should go home," he said, keeping his voice level. "This willnae work."

"I agree." She moved past him and reached for the saddle once more.

He followed her back to the horse. She put her foot in the stirrup and easily pulled herself up, sweeping the skirt of her gown to the side as she did so. The dark blue silk drew Murdoch's eyes downward, and he caught a flash of her bare milky skin. That leg was long, well sculpted, showing she was a fine rider indeed, experienced.

Ah, what is she doing tae me?

"Adjust yer skirt, Eloise."

She pulled the skirt sharply back across her leg, blushing, for she plainly had not noticed.

"Ye are right," he went on. "This plan would fail. Ye think so ill of me that pretending tae be my betrothed would be laughable."

"Me? Do ye even ken yer own mind? Between the two of us ye are the one with hatred in yer heart." She turned to face him in the saddle. "Are ye nae the one who has just accused me of being proud and haughty, when in fact, ye ken me so little at all? Imagine ye pretending tae be in love with me. That is a much more difficult task."

"I am a fairer player than ye think."

"Oh? Ye think so?"

"I struggle tae imagine ye taking on such skills, Eloise. The statuesque woman. I cannae believe ye're an escort at all." He shook his head firmly.

"Ye doubt my capability?" This seemed to offend her just as much as his insinuation that it was an awful occupation, her jaw slackening.

"Aye," he said, his voice deep. He didn't know how they'd ended down this rabbit warren of conversation, but there they were, unable to part from it.

Abruptly, she slid down the saddle again, sweeping her skirt to the side as she stepped toward him.

"Ye think me a statue, Murdoch? A woman nae capable of showing affection?"

"And here I thought I was being too subtle," he muttered wryly. Her gaze darkened on him even more, then she reached for him. He was so unprepared for it that he didn't respond. Her hands rested on his arms folded across her chest and she raised herself up toward him on her toes, her face softening into a sudden smile. She whispered in his ear. Her lips came so near to his skin that a sudden shudder passed down his spine. Her hands gripped his arm in a way that made his imagination run wild, imagining her holding onto him in other ways.

"I am a lass capable of more than ye ken," she whispered, her voice suddenly deep and hooded.

Dinnae make me desire ye now, Eloise.

Yet it was there. That husky voice, that touch, that whisper, all of it. As she released him and stepped back, she swept her arms outward, victoriously.

Aye, very well. She can act the part.

"Ye can act the part momentarily then." He grunted in acknowledgement. "I wonder what Avery would make of that?"

Her face fell. Her cheeks grew pale, that pleasant blush slipping away. As the wind whipped off the lake and bristled the loose curls of her hair, she shivered. He wasn't sure if it was a shiver of fear from his words or the wind.

"Please, dinnae tell him. He… He would never understand."

"Why dae ye dae it?" Murdoch didn't get an answer though. Eloise turned away and hurried back to the saddle.

"I should go."

"Aye, I agree. This will never work."

"We have already both agreed that."

"Aye."

"Fine."

A strange silence descended between them as Murdoch watched Eloise hurry into her saddle. He'd been so caught up in their argument that in the silence, he was abruptly aware of other sounds. There were more horses' hooves on the path nearby, and voices, of three men talking to each other.

Nay, nay, this cannae be happening.

"Murdoch? Is that ye?"

He'd know that voice anywhere. He saw the horses first, three of them, sweeping toward him off the path. His father led the way on his tall brown steed. He brushed aside a branch then turned to Murdoch.

He stared up at the dark eyes of Fergus Gordon, the same eyes as his own. The hair that had once been dark black was now firmly grey. It hung loose around his ears, just noticeable beneath the silk and embroidered hat he wore. His vast doublet and cloak were doing well to hide his rounded belly these days. Around his chin was a thicker beard than Murdoch remembered, but the great smile was just the same. It was how Fergus had always been, constantly smiling.

"Murdoch!" he declared with a booming voice and jumped down from his horse, thrusting the reins into the hands of the guards. "Me boy, it has been too long since I have seen ye." He strode toward Murdoch across the loch bank.

"Father." A happiness swelled inside of Murdoch, despite his fear of this moment. He embraced his father, the warmth in his arms comforting.

"Too long, me boy. Too long indeed," Fergus whispered in his ear, so only he could hear.

"Aye, it is." Murdoch stepped back as Fergus took his hand next, shaking.

"Ye are broader still." Fergus laughed and clapped his shoulder. "Nae doubt yer fighting has made ye this way."

A horse neighed and the two of them turned to look at Eloise. She struggled to control the beast for a second, who seemed eager to make their presence noticeable. Murdoch saw the fear in Eloise's blue eyes as she looked toward them.

Ah… what happens now?

"A lass?" Fergus instantly laughed. "Well, well, Murdoch, ye have been keeping secrets." He clapped Murdoch on the shoulder one more time and moved toward Eloise on the loch bank, reaching up toward her. He tenderly offered to take her hand and she gave him her gloved palm. "It is a pleasure tae meet ye. I was planning on introducing Murdoch tae many lasses during his stay. It is high time he was wed, but perhaps I am too late."

Murdoch felt sick. Bile rose in his throat, and he swallowed it down. Even talking of marriage felt wrong when he knew what had happened to the last woman he was to wed. The idea of meeting women over these next few days made that nausea worse. He cleared his throat, praying to be rid of that sensation.

"Ah, well, it is nae as ye quite think." Eloise hurried to speak, offering another one of those typically demure smiles that Murdoch so associated with her. He tried not to groan at that look.

Wait. If she stays, then at least I can avoid marriage for a little longer.

"Oh? What is it I should ken, Murdoch?" Fergus said, turning his head.

"There is something ye should ken." Murdoch crossed the distance. He took Eloise's hand from his father and tried to urge her off the saddle. Her eyes widened questioningly, but he was much stronger than her, thus she had no choice but to slide off the saddle. She conveniently landed on his foot, and he covered up the pain, wondering if she had done it on purpose. "Allow me tae introduce me betrothed, Father. This is Eloise McLaren."

"Betrothed? Ah! This is wonderful news, wonderful indeed!" Fergus declared, his voice booming and echoing off the loch bank as Eloise stood woodenly beside him. She let Fergus take her hand again as he kissed the gloved back and she forced a smile. As Fergus looked down at her hand, she turned an accusing glare on Murdoch, with so much hatred there, he actually felt quelled by it.

Och, she will despise me fer this now. What on earth was I thinking?