Never Seduce a Scot (The Montgomerys and Armstrongs #1)(29)

Teague scowled and then shot Graeme a disgusted look.

“And what was this wager?” Graeme demanded.

“Teague wagered that you’d toss Eveline from your chamber come morn. I knew you wouldn’t,” she said smugly.

He sent them both dark looks. “I’m so happy to have provided you both with entertainment.”

“ ’Tis your bed to lie in now that you’ve made it,” Teague said.

“ ’Tis none of your concern,” Graeme said in an icy voice.

Teague rose, irritation etched on his face. “I’ll be in the courtyard sparring if you decide to find your missing cods and come join us.”

Graeme decided on the spot that his first session would be with Teague and he’d teach his younger brother a lesson about respect.

Eveline woke and for a moment had no recollection of where she was. She wasn’t in her own chamber in her own bed. None of the smells were familiar. It took her a moment to clear the cobwebs from her mind and remember that she was married and was lying in her new husband’s bed in his chamber—a room she’d invaded without gaining his permission.

But he hadn’t awakened her to throw her out, so perhaps he wasn’t angry over it.

The fact of the matter was, she’d felt desperately alone and isolated in the chamber he’d given her. And while he might be her clan’s enemy, he’d been kind to her—the only Montgomery who’d been remotely gentle with her.

She frowned. That wasn’t entirely true. Rorie had been helpful, though Eveline wasn’t certain what Graeme’s sister’s motives had been. There’d been mischief in her eyes when she’d agreed to help Eveline move her belongings.

As she shoved the covers aside, a cool draft fell over her and she shivered. But as she turned, warmth greeted her and she realized that a fire had been started in the hearth.

Judging by the height and blaze of the flames, the fire hadn’t been started very long ago. Graeme must have had someone light it for her so she wouldn’t be cold when she rose.

A man who’d show that kind of consideration to his enemy’s daughter couldn’t be all bad, could he?

Nothing she’d seen thus far told her that she was in any danger with Graeme Montgomery. He wasn’t happy about the arrangement—who could blame him? But he hadn’t misused her or shown her ill treatment. Not yet.

Never before would she have considered that a Montgomery could be noble and just, but Graeme seemed destined to change her opinion on that matter.

She wandered closer to the hearth and stuck out her hands to warm her cold fingertips. Once sufficiently baked, she turned to find suitable clothing for the day.

At home, she wouldn’t have given the matter much thought. Here, she was suddenly fretting over whether she should leave her hair down or braid it and whether she should wear her plain, simple dress or one prettier. What would Graeme expect of his wife?

She frowned when she realized she had no idea what his expectations were. He didn’t seem to have any, other than to put her away and perhaps go on with his normal activities. Perhaps that was why he’d arranged for her to have a separate chamber.

She opted for something plain. The last thing she wanted was for the Montgomery clansmen to think she was uppity and putting on airs. She’d noted the dress of the other women of the keep, and most wore very basic work apparel.

After dressing, she began brushing her hair. It was a chore because the long ride to the Montgomery holding had resulted in having windblown hair and she hadn’t brushed it before going to sleep the night before.

She worked the knots from the strands and then began to braid it by pulling it over her shoulder. She perched on the bench closest to the fire as she worked on her hair, but a moment later, she felt the presence of someone else.

Her skin prickled in awareness and she hastily glanced up to see Rorie in the doorway. She smiled, not knowing if Rorie had already said anything to her. Then she motioned her forward.

In that moment, she was intensely glad to see the other lass. The isolation of Graeme’s chamber was overwhelming and yet she lacked the courage to go below stairs on her own. The looks from Graeme’s kin were still fresh in her mind.

“Good morn, Eveline,” Rorie said.

She smiled hesitantly at Eveline as she spoke, and Eveline smiled back, wanting to encourage any conversation Rorie might strike up.

“So, are you planning to stay above stairs all day?” Rorie asked.

Eveline frowned, uncertain of the point of the question.

“Graeme thought you might be hungry. You had little to eat yesterday.”

Eveline gave a slight nod.

Rorie’s eyes gleamed as she seated herself in the chair opposite the bench Eveline was perched on.

“The women are wagering whether or not you’ll be brave enough to show your face outside of your chamber.”

Eveline blinked in surprise, and then her brows came together as she stared back at Rorie. What was Rorie’s purpose? Was she trying to anger Eveline? Upset her? Remind her of her tenuous position in her new clan?

“I’m sure they wouldn’t expect you to boldly march down and demand something to eat,” Rorie continued on, seemingly unbothered by Eveline’s reaction. “It might be amusing to see the expressions of their faces were you to do so.”

Eveline’s lips twitched, and then they rose upward in a smile. Rorie was obviously a mischievous sort. It was likely why she’d aided Eveline yesterday in moving her belongings to Graeme’s chamber.