by Eliza Knight
Blair cleared her throat and gave him a hard stare. He seemed to come back to himself and returned to his duties.
Undermining her father, and the safety of his people.
“Och, Blair, ye’re no fun,” Aurora murmured.
“He is not here to ogle, but to keep the castle guarded.”
“Life is not all about work. We have to have some fun,” Aurora said.
“There is a place and time for fun,” Blair retorted.
“And where would that be for ye, Cousin? Do ye ever have fun?”
Blair frowned, pursing her lips. She had fun. Certainly, she did…
Liam had not come by this castle by birth or inheritance, rather by siege. He needed his men to be on guard at all times, not distracted by baser desires. And if she could help with that, she would.
Though Liam had laid siege to Ross in the name of the king—and been rewarded with it by Robert the Bruce—to some people, he was not the rightful laird. And since her brother had taken his position, there had been a few instances of Ross men rebelling.
They were wrong, of course, to go against her brother, and anyone with half a brain would know that. They should see him as a savior.
No longer were Ross lands, and Scotland, to be tormented by Ina Ross and her Sassenach husband, Ughtred. Not that Blair had anything against English people in general. Her mother was English, as was her grandfather, her aunt and uncle, and even Cora. But she had much against the English who wished to oppress the Scots. And with good reason. They’d been oppressing her people, murdering them in cold blood for generations. Infiltrating Scottish ranks in order to undermine the kingdom and Robert the Bruce’s rule.
“I wish we could go down to the loch. It’s such a beautiful evening,” Aislinn whined in a way that Blair was certain was meant to be cute.
“Let’s go. For certain, the three of us can convince one of the ninnies on guard to open the gate or accompany us,” Aurora answered. “That is if Blair doesna try to spoil our fun.”
Blair let out an exaggerated yawn. Nay! Not on my life! “Not today. I’m tired. Perhaps on the morrow?”
“See, I told ye,” Aurora said to her sister.
“We’re going to hold ye to it, Blair. On the morrow.”
Blair nodded but said nothing, so that her words could not be held against her, for she would not agree, and it was just dark enough that she could tell them they’d confused her nod for a shake of her head.
As they walked back to the castle, Aislinn and Aurora murmured on about their various beaus, and how they expected to soon gain proposals of marriage. They couldn’t wait to be married. A surge of what could only be jealousy stirred in Blair’s belly. If one of them were to get married before her, when she’d spent her whole life thus far following rules in order to be the perfect wife and mother…
“How about ye, Blair?”
How was she supposed to answer? Blair was not ever one to confess her deepest desires to anyone. She placated everyone, went with what they wished, knowing that one day, all her good deeds would be rewarded. She didn’t want to say that her parents had yet to broach the topic of marriage with her, as it was clear nuptials were a large matter in the twins’ household—and they a year younger! She frowned, perhaps just a moment too long, because it was this very frown that drew her cousins’ attention.
They both stopped dead in their tracks, halting Blair with them, mouths agape. “What is it? Have Aunt and Uncle found ye a man to wed? One ye dinna like? Oh, do tell, Cousin. Ye can trust us to keep your secrets.”
Blair shook her head, fierce enough that a few locks fell from the tightly bound knot at the nape of her neck, causing them to brush against her cheeks. The hairs tickled her skin, and she itched to tuck them back in place.
What was this burning heat she felt in her chest? It was unsettling, and spread like fiery fingers outward, up her throat, and out her arms. Her feet stilled and couldn’t move. Not another inch. And her voice, it disappeared with her breath. She was…angry. Was that the right word? How could this be?
Blair was never angry. Aye, a little irritated sometimes, like right now, and for the past quarter of an hour. Mayhap a little longer. But for some reason, that irritation was quickly escalating. She swallowed, working to shove down these unpleasant feelings. Working to keep herself under control. She drew in a deep, ragged breath and let it out slowly.
Blair was always everything she was supposed to be—docile and happy and chipper.
She did not allow herself to be angry. Anger was for her siblings, for warriors and those who mattered. Not for the bairn of the family, who had to remain neutral in all things in order to keep the peace.
Aye, that was what she was, the peacemaker. A title she wholly embraced, else she make another blunder that tossed their clan into a war.
And peacemakers shouldn’t feel like raising hell, which was exactly what she felt like doing at the moment.
This burning feeling in her chest had to go away. Right this instant. She stomped her foot, dragged in a gasp of air at both her feelings and the unnatural stomp. Goodness… She needed to go to her chamber. To quiet down. Calm herself, so she’d not do something even more unladylike.
“I’m verra tired,” she said in a near growl and tried to rip away from her cousins’ grips that seemed to have grown tighter on her arms.
They wouldn’t let go, and she felt them crowding closer, looks of concern on their beautiful faces.
“Och, dearest Blair, ye must tell us what has ye so cross,” Aurora breathed out.
Aislinn made a clucking noise of concurrence. “I’ve never seen ye so.”
“I am not cross,” Blair said. “And I am not betrothed.” Nor do I have any beau. Or anyone even remotely interested. Biting the tip of her tongue, she held back any more words from spilling out. A lady did not share the secrets of her heart. Especially not with her busybody cousins, who couldn’t wait to tell the world all of her problems, because they were so much more interesting than their own.
“Then what is wrong?”
When she said nothing, her cousins dragged her to the side of the keep, well out of earshot of anyone else. They stood in the shadows now, and Blair pressed her back to the cool stone wall, grateful for its solidness to hold her up.
“We willna tell anyone. Ye can trust us.”
Blair studied her cousins’ features, so similar to her mother. Golden locks and eyes the color of bluebells. They were beautiful. Flawless. Her sisters were much the same. Beauties. Bella took after their mother, and Greer’s hair was more ginger like their father’s. But Blair… Her tendrils were unnaturally dark, black as a raven, which set her apart from everyone in her immediate family. Perhaps so much so it was the reason no one had yet to offer marriage. She simply wasn’t that pretty. And her body… That was another thing altogether. She was a bit too rounded in her hips with a bottom that bounced too much when she walked, lacking completely in the lithe beauty of her siblings and mother.
Even her skin was different, prone to darkening with the slightest touch of the sun. The only thing that was the same were her eyes, an identical blue as her mother’s. At least by seeing her eyes reflected in the loch, she knew she belonged, that she wasn’t some changeling brought in by the fairies.
Her entire life had been about belonging. About doing the right thing in order to be accepted and valued, for she had no talent, no beauty, and no penchant for anything that might set her apart from anyone else. And her lack of standing out only made her stand out all the more.
Every once in a while, she’d try to step outside of her shell and join one of her siblings on an adventure, telling herself that to do so was to protect them. If she were there, she could make peace should they get into trouble.
But she couldn’t help knowing deep down that doing things she shouldn’t sometimes sparked a bit of joy inside her, even if she quashed it.
And then something would happen, to remind her of why she should remain as she’d s
et out—a rule follower.
“Blair…” Aurora called her back to the present, and she stared into her cousins’ eager expressions.
Blair felt that desire to cause mischief, for a moment of excitement, if only for a second, before the practical side of her shoved it aside.
“Ye can tell us anything, Blair,” Aislinn murmured, soothing and calm. A manner she must use quite a bit in order to get her way, for she seemed very good at it.
“Aye, anything. I’ll even tell ye a secret so ye know ye can trust us,” Aurora added.
Blair’s eyes widened. Did she want to know a secret? Nay, definitely not! Look what had happened the last time she knew a secret…
Aislinn’s grin widened, for she must already know what secret Aurora kept, and now Blair was certain she didn’t want to know.
“I kissed one of the stable hands today,” Aurora confessed. “The one with the long ginger hair.”
Blair’s mouth fell open.
“Didna even ask him. Just did it. And it was a lot of fun.” Aurora winked at her sister.
“That wasna even her first kiss,” Aislinn said with a roll of her eyes.
Not her first kiss?
Blair touched her own lips without thinking. What would it be like to kiss a man? She’d not even got that far in her fantasies. Nay, she thought mostly of sitting beside a fire, drinking a glass of warm spiced almond milk, and having a handsome man completely mesmerized by some fascinating thing she said. Although she had no idea what it would be because she never felt clever, but in her fantasy, she was incredibly witty. Her man would hang on her every word. Admire her. Tell her she was beautiful.
Blair sighed.
“Have ye kissed a man?” Aurora asked.
Blair shook her head.
“Do ye want to practice on the stable hand? I assure ye he was more than willing. I could bring ye to him right now.”
Blair’s stomach did a flop. She shook her head vigorously. “Nay, nay, I dinna want to do that.”
Aurora frowned with disappointment. “All right, well, then tell us what has ye so cross. Ye promised.”
Blair had given no such promise, but she supposed by listening to her cousin’s confession about the kiss, she had perhaps in some unspoken way given her word to share. Even if the confession had been thrust on her. She had no one else to talk to though, and from what she was guessing, Aurora wouldn’t want it spread around that she’d been kissing the stable hand. Perhaps there was a measure of trust Blair could find in that.
“I canna describe it,” Blair started, biting her lip and frowning. “But when ye started to talk about your beau, I was reminded that I dinna have one.”
“And ye want one.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Aye, I do.”
The twins glanced at each other, and Blair could practically hear their minds turning. “We can help with that,” they said at the same time.
A little niggling feeling inside her gut told her that perhaps now would be a good time to say “nay, thank ye,” and to be on her way. To say, “never mind, I’ll handle this on my own.”
But she didn’t.
In fact, she opened her mouth and started to share with her cousins one of her longest-held fantasies, the one about the hearth and husband. How her husband would come riding upon the castle, confess his undying love, and rescue her from the doldrums of a sheltered life. Their eyes widened until they were so large, Blair feared they would pop out of their heads.
“I never would have thought ye had it in ye, Blair,” Aislinn said.
“Aye, I thought ye were destined for the church,” Aurora added.
“Aye, I think everyone did,” Aislinn agreed.
Aurora pressed her hands to Blair’s shoulders. “We must do this.”
“We must make this happen.”
“Nay,” Blair protested, removing her cousin’s hands from her shoulders. “’Tis silly. We canna. And there is no way about it.”
“I know a way.” Aurora grinned. “A message in a bottle.”
“Nay!” Blair shook her head. “I canna.”
“Oh, but ye can. Tomorrow. Be ready at dawn.”
Blair swallowed hard and considered telling her parents they must leave before dawn the following morning in order to avoid this blunder. Or if she might be able to run away and escape the fate her cousins had planned for her.
“My parents would be terribly upset if I did something so reckless.” Blair shook her head. “I canna.”
Aurora shrugged. “They will never know. Trust us.”
There was that word again—trust. Blair was fairly certain her cousins had no earthly idea how much they were asking of her, nor that they were likely the last people she would ever trust so deeply with her future.
“Let’s go inside before anyone worries about us. Best not cause a riot tonight when we’ve plans to make Blair’s dreams come true tomorrow.” Aislinn giggled and rubbed her elbow into Blair’s ribs.
While the twins chortled over their ridiculous plan, Blair felt very much like losing the contents of her dinner. She allowed herself to be dragged back into the castle, up the steep, winding stairs to her chamber, where her cousins rummaged through her writing desk until they produced ink, quill and parchment.
They tapped the parchment, their eyes gleaming with delight. “Write. Write something glorious.”
“I’m no writer,” Blair said feebly, wishing she’d spent more time paying attention to her sister Bella, who was well-known for her story-telling capabilities.
Blair could barely string two words together, and if she did, they rarely made sense. She knew the basics of giving direction. Of writing a missive that got across the important parts—all is well, weather is good, I still hate mutton, and cheese is my favorite dish.
All very mundane and boring.
Just like her life up to this point. Again, that little spark of want, of desire to do something beyond the rules lit in her belly. Nay! She pushed it aside. Dinna be stupid.
She nodded to her cousins, already knowing that on the morrow, she was going to disappoint them when she burned whatever letter she’d pen right now to get them out of her room.
Och, what a mess she’d gotten herself into. Blair took the quill and scribbled hastily on the parchment. Aurora squealed with delight as Aislinn sprinkled sand over the ink to dry it.
As soon as they were gone, she tossed the parchment into the fire, watching it crinkle and seize in the heat, the edges turning black before shifting into ash. A moment later, her maid arrived to undress her for the night. She sat quietly as her hair was brushed out and replaited, and then she was tucked safely into bed like the bairn everyone considered her to be.
Within seconds, her mother slipped into the room, as though she’d been waiting on the other side of the door. Did she know that Blair’s cousins had been there? Did she know their plans? Without a word about it, her mother gave her a kiss on the forehead and wished her a good night’s sleep.
Blair stared after her mother’s retreating figure, wondering if she’d ever done a wrong thing in her life. Lady Arbella Sutherland was kind, beautiful, smart and cared for everyone. She always had a smile, a soft word, but she could be strong and take anyone who went against her to task.
Lady Arbella was perfect.
Even her sister Greer, with her penchant for troublemaking, was perfect. Bella was of course untouchable, a goddess among women. And Blair…she was just…not.
That burning sensation came into Blair’s chest again. Was she jealous?
She rolled toward the window covered in thick fur to keep out the night’s chill. As much as the fur tried to do its job, her chamber was still quite cold, and a subtle draft blew over her skin.
“I’m like the fur,” she murmured to no one. Trying so hard all the time to do what was expected, and for all intents and purposes, succeeding enough that everyone kept on using her. But when it came down to it, she just wasn’t perfect or really that great at wha
t she was supposed to be doing, evidenced plainly by the blunders she’d managed to keep secret for so long.
The letter she’d penned and burned came to mind. A blunder averted. Thank the heavens.
But what had it hurt to play at making her fantasy, her dream husband, come to life? It wasn’t like it would have actually worked if she went through with it—which she wouldn’t. She would never toss the message into the loch, unless it was simply the ash from the hearth. Oh, this was all silly nonsense that her cousins and she would laugh about until they were old ladies.
However, for a few moments, it had made Blair smile.
A true, genuine smile, because she had been doing something just for her, and for the pure goal of enjoyment. When did she ever let go just to have a little fun?
The sad truth of not knowing the answer to that sank in quite deeply.
Chapter 2
Kilravock Castle
Scottish Highlands
* * *
Edan Rose had not been home in a long time.
And the last thing he’d expected to come home for was to help solve his brother’s murder.
Well over a year had passed since last he’d traversed this road, and then, his brother had been full of life and soon to be married.
Now, Edan was laird and hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye to Connor before his brother’s life was swiftly stolen. Gone were any imagined days of them as older men, telling war stories before a hearth to younger generations. Gone was the idea of ever getting to know the brother he’d missed.
Guilt ate at Edan’s gut. If he’d been there… If he’d come home… He might have been able to put a stop to whatever plan had been put in place to end his brother’s death. Tell the murdered to take him instead, at least, the one trained to fight in battles, who regularly put his life on the line. Let his brother, the one who was wed, and duty bound to produce the next heir to the Rose Clan, live.
