Page 69 of The Laird's Masked Passion

He could guard, provide, command and desire. He could even give Elspeth a feast, let her stand beside him, let his people begin to look at her as something more than a purchased bride.

But he would not love her. He would not become a man who confused tenderness with ownership. He would not become the portrait in the hall.

“The feast happens in two days,” he said. “Small, guarded, and useful. Breac, speak with Mairi about food. Murdoch, double men around the village and the castle both.”

Murdoch studied him for a moment, then nodded. “Aye.”

“And Lachlan?” Breac asked.

Colin’s expression emptied.

“Tonight he sleeps with his silence,” he told them. “Tomorrow, we see how loyal fear has made him.”

Breac and Murdoch exchanged one look too quickly to accuse and too clear to miss. Colin ignored it.

They left soon after, though not before Murdoch muttered. “A feast fer his wife, but nae romantic.”

“Entirely practical,” Breac answered.

Colin did not throw the whisky cup at them. That, he decided, was proof of uncommon restraint.

When the door closed, he remained alone in the study, looking down at maps that had become blurred by thoughts of green eyes, soot-marked gloves, and a woman who looked at him as if he might be better than he believed.

Desire is safer, he reminded himself.

So he would desire her, and nothing more.

Elspeth had never arranged a feast before, but she discovered quickly that commanding food, music, and merriment into existence required nearly as much strategy as surviving marriage.

“It willnae be grand,” she said, pacing before the bed while Skye sat with a basket of ribbons in her lap. “If it is grand, people will think we are pretending naething happened. It must be warmand familiar, with enough food tae comfort, but nae enough tae insult those who lost stores.”

Skye nodded very solemnly. “Aye. Comfort without insult. Music?”

“Fiddles and naething mournful. Also games for the children, races and tossing things intae baskets, whatever children dae when nae asking terrible questions.”

“They ask terrible questions while doing all of that, too.”

“Then stronger drink for the adults.”

Skye laughed, and Elspeth almost joined her. But her thoughts had a wicked habit of slipping away whenever they pleased, and tonight they slipped from feast tables and music to Colin’s hand at her waist on the ride, Colin’s mouth in the garden, and Colin’s voice saying things no respectable woman should remember so clearly.

If I touched ye beneath yer dress, I would find ye ready fer me.

Her face went hot. Skye noticed at once, because Skye was a terrible friend and therefore saw everything.

“What is it, me lady?”

“Naething.”

“That was a very red naething.”

“It is warm in here.”

“It isnae.”

Elspeth turned away and pretended to inspect a folded cloth upon the chair. “I was thinking of the feast.”

“Daes the feast have broad shoulders?”