Page 5 of A Laird and a Gentleman

She had always been a ravishing creature, but one he’d always kept at a distance. Yet, the difficulties of the last week had somehow refined her otherworldly features even more—her high cheekbones, the angular jut of her jaw, her smooth and fair skin with a smattering of freckles across her nose, her luminous, green eyes. Her mouth was full and soft, and her glorious red hair fell unrestrained, against all dictates, across her shoulders and down her back.

Had the burden placed upon her during Lachlan’s trial transformed her, like a precious gem, from one state to another? He ran his thumb over the edge of her jaw. It would be so easy to lose himself in her eyes.

A shudder trembled through her.

He abruptly released Mariam’s chin. Mercy’s sake, what was wrong with him? Mariam was his ward. She’d been placed in his care . . . for him to protect. Over the past year he’d had to work at keeping his attraction to her in check, and for the most part he had succeeded. But in this moment, all of his willpower seemed to vanish. Protecting her was the last thing on his mind. He wanted to throttle her. He wanted to kiss her. And so much more. “I apologize. I did not mean to—”

“You didn’t,” she broke in. “What would you have me do with your guests? Entertain them with a song?”

He frowned. “Nothing so flamboyant as that. These are simple men. I would ask that you help Mistress MacInnes set out the evening meal and then make certain there is plenty of bedding for the sailors in the great hall after their meal.”

A flash of temper flared in her eyes before she turned abruptly away to do as he’d asked. He watched her go—something he found himself doing far more frequently in the past few months than was advisable, or so his conscience warned him. He had pondered the question about what to do with her for the past week. He did not want to send her back to her father. That much he knew. But having her near every day was starting to wear his resistance down. And marrying her off to someone else brought a knot to his gut. He pursed his lips in thought as she moved across the chamber to Mistress MacInnes’s side.

Mariam looked back at him then, and in her expression, Cameron saw a flash of something that looked like sadness—or uncertainty—and then it was gone. She turned back around, twisting her fingers together.

Her submissive pose struck a chord in him. She appeared unsettled, and that surprised him. Mariam was always the one unsettling everyone else. He could honestly say Mariam seemed more vulnerable and alone than she had before the trial. He frowned. She was the most intriguing woman he’d ever met and the most frustrating.

Cameron pressed his lips together as a hunched and heavily veiled Mistress MacInnes approached, the keys at her waist jingling with every step. The lines around the older woman’s green eyes had deepened, hinting at her worry.

“M’laird, the sailors are growing restless. Might I serve supper so they can settle for the night? We simply need you to give the word.”

Cameron looked about the chamber, strewn with men in rough-cut clothing, chattering with excitement about their voyage ahead. Cameron had promised them twice the usual pay, and their hurry to leave the castle and get underway vibrated in the air.

“Go ahead and serve. I shall see to the men.” Cameron made his way to the head table and took a long sip of wine from the goblet before him. Captain Alwyn took the seat beside him. “Your ward, Mariam Swinton, is a fine-looking woman. Is she yours?” The captain’s weathered features filled with a mixture of longing and jealousy.

Cameron’s gaze sought out Mariam as she made her way down the long tables, pouring wine into each of the sailor’s goblets, making pleasant conversation as she went. “Aye. She’s mine.” It didn’t matter that his words were a lie. As long as he remembered that lie in the morning.

Chapter Two

The next morning, Cameron waited impatiently for Mariam to appear. He’d asked Mistress MacInnes to escort the young woman to the great hall after she had failed to show up at the morning meal. He sat before the hearth with his brother-in-arms, Alexander, staring at the gray and white ashes from last night’s fire.

“Am I doing the right thing?” Cameron asked. “Mariam is a woman of some status. If I force humility on her, does that make me any better than her father who tortures others for his own pleasure?”

Alexander scoffed. “The fact you are contemplating your actions reveals a drastic difference to the man in question. Otherwise, you are doing what needs to be done. Mariam deserves a hard lesson after what she put Lachlan through. As her guardian, you are the one who must provide her with that learning and hopefully resulting growth.”

Their conversation ceased when the door opened and Mariam stepped into the chamber, followed closely by Mistress MacInnes. The older woman had arrived at the castle to replace the prior chatelaine who had left Cameron’s service abruptly after Mariam came to live there. Cameron had never fully understood the previous chatelaine’s reason for leaving, but he hadn’t given it much thought since Mistress MacInnes had stepped into the role with ease, even going so far as to have some sort of calming influence over his ward. Mariam had not come down at his command, but had easily complied when Mistress MacInnes had been sent to retrieve her. Curious.

Cameron stood as Mariam approached the hearth. She had dressed in a velvet gown in a rich shade of brown. The line of the gown was straight and graceful from its tight sleeves, tight waist and plunging neckline. The effect was more striking than he cared to admit, bringing out the golden glow in her skin and highlighting the richness of her red hair.

She walked slowly toward where he and Alexander stood. Her every movement was filled with grace, yet there was a hint of distress in her eyes.

Cameron was all too aware of her vulnerability at the moment and its effect on him physically. He longed to pull her into his arms and reassure her that as long as she stayed with him, no one would ever harm her. Only once before had he felt so strong a need to protect someone, but that time he had failed. Since then, he had gone to extraordinary efforts to keep his men and those in his care out of harm’s way. Even so, it was his greatest fear that he would fail again—and this time with Mariam.

Mariam stopped before him. Her pulse fluttered wildly at the base of her throat, revealing her nervousness. “I am here at your request. What is my punishment to be?” She cast a quick, nervous glance at Alexander before she swallowed, avoiding Cameron’s gaze.

“Sit down, Mariam,” Cameron said, signaling to the chair he had just vacated, hoping to put her more at ease. He would teach his ward a lesson, but he had no intention of tormenting her.

Mariam sat and her hands convulsively tightened on her velvet gown. She kept her eyes downcast as if she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She knew something serious was going to happen here. And that prospect obviously filled her with dread.

“As I mentioned yesterday, you had many opportunities to speak the truth about Laird Douglas’s innocence before and during his trial, yet you kept quiet. You’ve left me with no other option than to force you to learn something about self-sacrifice.”

“What does that mean? What will you do to me?” She knotted her hands.

“It is more about what you will do for others,” he replied, keeping his voice firm, but not harsh. “A full day of cleaning the castle on your knees will not only give you time to think about how you wronged Lachlan, it will also provide a sense of accomplishment I feel you lack in your daily routine here.” Her eyes when they met his were not filled with vulnerability, nor were they sad, or remorseful. They were simply empty—as though she refused to let him see any emotion that might linger there.

“Since I am not to be given a choice in the matter, I suggest we get started.”

“Would you like to change into something more appropriate for cleaning?”