Never Seduce a Scot (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #1)(17)

And yet he couldn’t bring himself to show any temper toward the lass.

Unsure of what he should do, he continued into the room, closing the door behind him. After a moment he turned to look at her, and he could see a hint of color rise in her cheeks, reflected in the soft candlelight.

She looked angelic. Impossibly beautiful. He’d never seen anything her equal. It wasn’t that she was the most beautifully fashioned woman he’d ever seen, but she was easily the most …

He frowned. The most what?

There was something quite irresistible about her and he couldn’t even put his finger on it. She lacked the practiced graces of older, more mature women. But neither did she look like a maiden too young for a man to even look at.

She was … just right.

God’s teeth, was he lusting over his bride? Self-loathing filled him. He should be treating her gently and kindly. It was obvious there was something off about the lass, even if he didn’t know the extent, and here he was looking at her as a prospective wife with all the benefits entailed.

No matter that she was an Armstrong. It was clear she couldn’t be punished for or defined by the actions of her family when it was likely she was unaware of most things around her.

As much as he didn’t want to label any Armstrong a victim, he had enough intelligence to know she didn’t deserve this union any more than he deserved to be forced into it.

She would be taken from her home—the only safe haven she had. From everyone who protected and loved her—and it was obvious she was well loved by her family. She would be thrust into a hostile environment. Could any Armstrong ever find a place in the Montgomery clan? It was going to be a difficult matter, no matter how it was handled, and it was she who stood to lose the most, while all he gained was an unwanted wife and grudging truce with the Armstrongs.

As if she had grown impatient with him just standing and staring at her, she stood with a slight frown and then crossed the room to stand just before him. She reached for his face and his automatic reaction was to flinch away.

Hurt shadowed her eyes and she snatched her hand back, a frown turning her lips down.

Aggrieved that he’d somehow hurt her, he carefully reached down, took her hand and then raised it back to his chin where she’d nearly touched him before. He had no idea of her intention, but he would see how it played out.

She smiled and again he was struck by how such a smile transformed her entire face into a ray of sunshine. Her fingers slid delicately over his rough jaw and to his lips. His eyes widened when she touched his mouth and then pushed up and down at his lips.

When he didn’t immediately react, she frowned and pushed more forcefully. Then she removed her fingers and pressed her finger and thumb into his cheeks, squeezing so his lips puckered outward.

Frowning harder, she stared up at him as if to say, Do you not understand? It seemed clear the lass wanted him to speak.

He nearly laughed. Everyone treated her as somewhat of a simpleton, but here she was acting as if he were the dolt with no sense.

She wanted him to speak. Of what, he had no idea, but it was clear she wanted him to say something.

“You shouldn’t be here, Eveline,” he said kindly. “It’s not proper and if your father should find out, he’d almost certainly declare war, which would most assuredly displease our king.”

Her brow furrowed deeper and she gave him a fierce glare. Then she shook her head and raised her hands as if to say, Who is to know?

She put her finger back to his lips, but by now he knew what it was she wanted. With a sigh, he led her to a chair by the fire and motioned for her to sit. He dragged the bench by the window across the floor so he could sit near her.

They were side by side and before he could think of anything further to say, she stood and turned her chair, positioning it so she was facing him. Then she settled back down and leaned forward, her eyes focused intently on him.

He’d never felt so unsettled. His tongue felt tied and he had no idea what to say to the lass. It would be so much easier if she spoke, because then she could ask questions. Aye, he could answer questions easily enough, but to just come up with a topic?

He wasn’t someone who spoke overly much and was never one for casual conversations. He was more to the point. His brothers often teasingly said that dragging more than a few words from him was like trying to push a rope through the eye of a needle.

So … he’d talk about marriage. Since the wedding would take place tomorrow, he could only assume that was why she was here in his chamber. Perhaps to allay her fears? Find out if he was some horrible abuser of women? Who knew?

He cleared his throat, hating how unsure of this entire situation he was. Give him a sword and someone to kill. He could handle that nicely. But a woman sitting in front of him, staring avidly while waiting for him to speak? Not exactly the subject of any training he and his men had ever endured.

“You understand that tomorrow we will wed,” he began gruffly.

She smiled and nodded.

Smiling was good. At least she hadn’t run from his chamber like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heals. But that still didn’t tell him she fully understood the ramifications of their marriage.

“Do you also understand that as soon as the ceremony has been completed, we will leave your … this keep … and travel back to Montgomery lands?”

Her expression sobered, but she nodded again.