Never Seduce a Scot: The Montgomerys and Armstrongs (12 page)

He knocked softly and waited, not wanting to intrude on her privacy even though he had every right as her husband to do as he wished. It wasn’t his intention to set her against him or to make her fear him. In fact, the thought was repugnant to him.

After a moment, he frowned when she didn’t respond to the summons. He pushed open the door only to find
the room completely dark. He took one of the candles from the wall sconce and walked into Eveline’s room and to his further surprise, the room was bare.

No trunks. None of her things. It was as pristine as it had been before he’d delivered her to the chamber just hours before.

For a moment he wondered if he’d given her the wrong room, but even he wasn’t that absentminded. He retreated quickly and then strode down the hall, throwing open doors left and right.

When he got to his own, he nearly didn’t go in, but then thought better of it and opened his door. If he was to find her, he needed to cover every inch of the keep. He certainly would have known if she’d made an appearance below stairs.

This wasn’t what he had in mind for his first day of wedded bliss. A missing wife who may or may not be in full control of her faculties.

He almost missed her when he pushed inside his chamber and hastily scanned the room. But he certainly didn’t miss the fact that his chamber now housed all the trunks that had accompanied her to Montgomery Keep. They were also unpacked and her things covered most of the available surfaces in his chamber.

Most notably, she was curled into a small ball on the far side of his bed, the side closest to the wall, and from all appearances she was fast asleep.

He blew out his breath, raised his hands and then let them fall to his sides in exasperation. She was everywhere in his chamber. Her belongings. Even her smell. Trunks. Clothing. And then there was the fact that she was in his bed. Where he had to sleep.

She hadn’t even eaten, and she had to be starving. He’d yanked her from her home the moment the vows were recited, and she hadn’t eaten when they’d arrived
here. The lass was slight enough as it was. She certainly didn’t need to be missing any meals.

And yet he didn’t want to disturb her sleep. She hadn’t so much as stirred, and he hadn’t been quiet when he’d come into the chamber. The day had likely exhausted her.

Still he crept closer to the bed and leaned over to peer down at her. It was ridiculous that he was tiptoeing around his own chamber out of deference to a wife who’d taken it upon herself to move herself into his private quarters.

She looked angelic in sleep, dark lashes resting against pale cheeks. Her blond hair was tousled and in disarray and spread out. Over his pillow. He frowned. She’d even stolen his pillow.

She was dressed in a white linen plain shift that modestly covered all the necessary parts. All that he could see was her face and one bare arm that rested down her side. The other was tucked beneath her as she faced the wall.

If he woke her, she’d have to dress to come below stairs and by the time she made an appearance, the meal would be over with anyway. He’d just make certain that there would be food available to her as soon as she woke in the morning.

He lingered for another long moment, staring down at the soft rise and fall of her chest. And then he glanced around once more at all the things that now occupied his chamber. Or rather
their
chamber, since it appeared she’d laid claim to his.

He turned away, gripping his nape and rubbing it as he quietly retreated. He had no idea what to do in this matter. He couldn’t very well pursue a normal marriage with her. Their marriage couldn’t even be consummated.

And yet there she was in his bed, on his pillow, sound asleep as if she fully expected she should be there.

He walked down the stairs and into the hall where the serving women were busy putting food out on the tables. He took a seat at the end where he always sat, Teague on his left and Bowen on his right. Rorie sat on Bowen’s other side, and suspiciously, she wouldn’t look up to greet him as he sat.

“Know you anything about how Eveline was able to move all her trunks into my chamber?” he asked mildly as he stared down at Rorie. “Or for that matter, how she knew which chamber was mine?”

Rorie’s face colored and she stared down, suddenly very fascinated with her food.

“What do you speak of?” Bowen demanded. “The lass moved into your chamber?”

Teague’s eyebrows went up. “What’s her intention?”

“As she was asleep when I went up, I could hardly ask her,” Graeme said dryly. “I’m more interested in how she wound up there.”

Rorie huffed. “I helped her.”

Graeme’s eyes narrowed. “Was it her idea or yours? Is this some trick you’re playing?”

“You asked me to be nice to her,” she said pointedly. “I went up to her chamber and was met at the door by her pulling—or rather
trying
to pull—her trunks into the hall. She then dragged me down the hall, wanting to know which room was yours.”

Graeme held up his hand. “Wait a minute. She asked you this? How do you know this is what she wanted?”

“Of course not. She doesn’t speak. You told me as much, and she never uttered a single word. But she certainly has a way of making her point understood.”

Graeme couldn’t deny that.

“So she just dragged you down the hallway and you surmised that she wanted to know the way to Graeme’s chamber?” Teague asked incredulously.

Rorie glared at her brother. “I don’t expect you to understand,
but trust me, if you’d been there, you would have known what she wanted. And the moment I showed her which chamber was Graeme’s, she dragged me back down the hall to her chamber and wanted my help in moving all of her belongings.”

Graeme let out a deep sigh. “Who knows what was going on in the lass’s head.”

“She didn’t seem happy with your choice of rooms,” Rorie said, her lips twitching as she glanced up at Graeme. “In fact, I think she took insult that you didn’t install her in your chamber from the beginning.”

Bowen shook his head. “The poor lass is …” He broke off and tapped his temple with his finger several times to signify his thoughts of her mental capacity.

Graeme scowled in his direction. “I have yet to determine just how off she is. I have a suspicion that all is not as it seems. Regardless of how touched she is or isn’t, I expect you all to treat her with respect and kindness. She is no threat to us. She cannot help her parentage. None of us wanted this alliance, but here we are anyway. We should make the best of a bad situation.”

Teague’s lip curled. “Blood agreement or not, I do not consider any Armstrong an alliance. ’Tis just words on parchment that have no meaning. Saying I will not attack is not the same as saying they are a trusted ally.”

“Agreed,” Graeme said through his teeth. “I don’t think anyone has suggested such. What I need and want from the three of you is understanding and patience. It won’t cause you great harm to be kind to the lass. She doesn’t deserve to be treated as a leper by our clan.”

“You cannot control what the clan thinks,” Bowen said.

Graeme’s patience was thinning. “Nay, I can’t, but you can lead by example. Our clan’s acceptance of her won’t happen overnight, but you can aid me by not treating her with the same disdain as the rest of our kin.
In time, perhaps she can make a place for herself here. Think of how she must feel. She’s been taken from the sanctuary of her home where she’s surrounded by people who love and protect her, and she’s been thrust into a hostile world where she likely fears for her life, especially given how she is viewed by others.”

He swept his gaze from Bowen to Teague and then back to Bowen. “Imagine if it was Rorie taken from us, as I tried to make you see when we were at the Armstrong Keep. Would you not want her to be treated decently and kindly when we were not there to see to her protection?”

“I won’t be taken away, will I?” Rorie asked sharply.

Graeme cursed under his breath at the sudden fear in her eyes.

“Damn it, Graeme,” Teague snarled. “ ’Twas a stupid thing for you to say.”

“Nay, sweeting,” Graeme said. “ ’Twas just an example. Your place is here with us and that won’t change.”

“But it could,” Rorie persisted. “I’m sure Eveline’s family told her the exact same things you’re telling me. They likely offered her the same reassurances, but who’s to say that our king won’t be offering me up on the sacrificial plate?”

“If he was going to do so, he would have already done it,” Bowen said in a soothing voice. “The king has already asked us for too much. Even he won’t press us this far.”

Graeme wasn’t as certain, and he didn’t think Bowen and Teague were either, but they wouldn’t say anything otherwise in front of Rorie.

“I’d prefer to discuss your attitudes toward Eveline,” Graeme said, directing the conversation back to the matter at hand. “I want your promise that you’ll ease her transition and show her a friendly face among many hostile ones.”

“Very well,” Teague said grudgingly.

“I like her,” Rorie piped up.

All three of her brothers turned to her in surprise. She’d said nothing until now about her judgment of Eveline. She’d only given an account as to what had happened earlier.

Rorie shrugged. “There’s just something about her. She seems … determined. I expected to find her cowering in a corner or facedown on her bed in tears. Instead, I found her dragging trunks into the hall and demanding I tell her where Graeme’s chamber was. I found it all rather amusing.”

Then she turned her gaze on Graeme. “I know not whether she’s afflicted or daft or whatever it is that’s said about her. I only know that she’s courageous. And whether she speaks or doesn’t has little to do with the fact that she can communicate because she made it very clear what she wanted—nay, demanded—from me.”

“And if she’s not daft, then what the hell is she?” Graeme murmured.

C
HAPTER
14

Graeme awoke to a female body snuggled up tight against his side. Eveline’s arm was draped over his chest and she was tucked securely underneath his shoulder.

For a moment he didn’t even breathe. God’s teeth, but this was awkward. The night before, he’d eased onto his bed after warring with himself about whether to even sleep in his own chamber. He’d positioned himself on the very edge so there was plenty of space between him and Eveline, who at the time was scooted all the way over against the wall.

But now? She’d gravitated across the bed and was flush against him. Perhaps she’d grown cold during the night and sought out his heat.

He ground his teeth when his morning erection went more rigid than was normal. Guilt plagued him, no matter that it was a normal male response to having a woman’s body pressed against his. He had no business thinking of her in that way. Surely it was a sin.

The dilemma that presented itself was how was he to extricate himself from her hold without waking her and causing even more awkwardness? The last thing he wanted was for her to come to sudden awareness and be terrified.

After pondering the matter for another long moment, he slowly inched his way toward the edge of the bed, lifting her arm just enough that he could move away.

He held his breath when she stirred, but then she rolled to her other side. Sighing in relief, he rose and dressed hurriedly so she wouldn’t awaken while he was still here.

Just as he was about to leave, he turned suddenly, staring at the bare hearth. She’d moved against him during the night, likely because she was cold. There was a distinct chill to the morning and she’d awaken to chattering teeth.

He maneuvered his way across the chamber, shoving aside one of her trunks and being mindful not to knock her things from where they were draped across his chair and one of the benches. Gathering wood from the floor where it was stacked next to the hearth, he laid a fire and used one of the half burned candles to put flame to wood.

Soon a healthy fire licked over the logs and warmth began emanating from the hearth. At least she could dress by the fire without turning blue.

Satisfied that he’d done his duty, he left the chamber to go in search of Rorie. He checked her chamber first, but knew she was likely already below stairs either breaking her fast or in their father’s accounting room trying to teach herself to read.

He shook his head. Not a pursuit he’d normally encourage, but it seemed to mean a lot to her, though he wasn’t certain why. He didn’t see the harm in having Father Drummond instruct her if it was what would make her truly happy. And he wasn’t above using it as a measure to keep her agreeable to his demands when it came to Eveline.

As it was, she was at the table bickering with Teague—a normal event on any day.

Graeme took his seat and rolled his eyes when his siblings didn’t even pause long enough in their argument to acknowledge his presence. He cleared his throat and when that got no response, he banged his fist down on the table.

Teague and Rorie jerked their heads in Graeme’s direction.

“Where is Bowen?” he asked calmly.

Rorie shrugged. “He’s already broken his fast. He said he’d be out with the men.”