Never Seduce a Scot (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #1)(18)

“ ’Tis the truth I have no idea what to do with you, Eveline Armstrong,” he admitted. “I had no plans for a wife yet. And when I did, I would of course have chosen a lass from my own clan. Someone who was well accustomed to life as a Montgomery and someone well versed in the running of a keep. My men …”

He broke off for a moment because she was cocking her head back and forth all the while her gaze was riveted … on his mouth. But there was such an expression of—pleasure?—on her face that it took him aback.

He cleared his throat again to continue, choosing to ignore her odd behavior. “My men and I train daily. I have other matters to attend to as chieftain. My clansmen come to me to settle disputes, to air grievances, to ask for guidance.”

Her look turned to one of impatience and she shook her head. She made a motion, a wide circling motion as if to encompass the entire keep and then gave him another impatient look as if to remind him that she was a chieftain’s daughter and well knew the duties of the laird.

Graeme sighed. So she didn’t want a rundown of his duties as laird. Not that he blamed her. It wasn’t scintillating conversation at best, but then he didn’t like lengthy conversations.

“What would you like to discuss, Eveline?”

Which sounded ridiculous, given that she couldn’t speak, but it was obvious she had no liking for the topics he’d broached.

Her smile returned and she leaned forward and directed one finger at him and then pressed it into his shoulder.

“Me?” he asked incredulously. “You want to talk about me?”

He couldn’t quite keep the horror from his tone or expression. What was he supposed to say? He felt as though he were on trial. Set before the king and court and a bevy of accusers, forced to give an accounting of himself before God.

How could she make him feel so bloody insecure?

She smiled hugely then, her entire face lighting up, and she nodded vigorously.

God’s teeth, he needed to have the lass gone from his bedchamber. This was madness. All of it.

But he couldn’t look at the sparkle in her eyes or her imploring gaze and keep the hardness that usually surrounded his heart and mind. What man in all of Scotland could sit before this beguiling beauty and possibly tell her no?

“What do you want to know?” he asked gruffly. Then realizing how stupid it was to question a woman who had no way of responding, he shook his head. “Never mind that. It was senseless on my part.”

Still, she stared at him expectantly, waiting for what he’d volunteer. And he had no idea what to tell her about himself. He didn’t sit around evaluating himself, his choices or his life. He just … was. He was chieftain to his people and with that came great responsibility. He didn’t have time to immerse himself in his thoughts or to ponder what manner of man he was.

Perhaps all she needed was reassuring. It occurred to Graeme that he’d assured her father and even her mother that his intentions toward Eveline were not dishonorable, but Eveline herself hadn’t been made aware of those same vows.

Aye, that was probably what she wanted to hear and it was something he could comfortably discuss.

“Eveline,” he began carefully, wanting to make sure he had her full attention. But he needn’t have worried because she was still staring avidly at his face. Indeed, her gaze had never left him. He’d never felt so scrutinized. “I want you to know that I do not hold you accountable for the sins of your family.”

She frowned—nay, she scowled—her face drawing into a ferocious expression that amused him for its cuteness.

“I understand you are innocent of wrongdoing and that you are a victim in this. I will treat you kindly and with the respect due your position as a chieftain’s daughter and now a chieftain’s wife. I’ll not ever punish the daughter for the sins of the father.”

She pushed up from the chair, and to his utter shock, she balled her fist and punched him right in the nose.

He reeled back, his hand going automatically to the place she’d struck. Not that she’d hit him hard enough to do any damage or cause any real pain. He was more flabbergasted by her reaction than anything.

She stomped past him, her feet making light sounds despite the exaggerated fashion in which she was trying to display her anger.

She threw open his door and he was on his feet immediately, knowing that if she succeeded in slamming it—which she seemed very intent on doing—that it would wake the others in adjacent chambers and then everyone would be in the hall to see her stomping out of his room.

And then? All hell would break loose.

He caught it just as she released it and swept into the hall. Then he stood there a long moment, breathing heavy breaths as he watched her disappear down the dimly lit corridor.

Daft or off she may be, but she clearly didn’t like for her family to be disparaged in any manner. He smiled ruefully. He admired loyalty. He demanded it. He could hardly respect the lass if she’d sat there stoically and accepted anything ill he said of her clan.

He quietly closed the door and then turned to start undressing for bed. Then he laughed.

The lass had been a complete and utter surprise and he still had no idea what on earth to make of her.

The only thing he could be assured of was that quite possibly he’d never be sure of her or what each day would bring from this day forward.

CHAPTER 9