A Laird and a Gentleman (All the King's Men #4) - Gerri Russell Page 0,5

lay in bed each night. Had her mother left of her own volition? Or had her father pushed her away? Those two questions had haunted Mariam throughout her childhood. It wasn’t until years later that she’d heard rumors about her father’s role in her mother’s disappearance—that he had pushed her from the cliff near their home and onto the rocks below.

Mariam had always assumed she had been the source of conflict between her parents, and that ultimately, she had been the one who had caused her mother’s death. And that she was more like her father than she cared to admit. Cameron had seen that side of her as well, over the past year, and in the tribunal chamber.

Suddenly fearful of what was to come, Mariam clutched her palms and turned away from the crowd, heading for the open gates. Perhaps it was best if she ran away from the coming confrontation, at least for a little while.

“Mariam.” Cameron’s voice rose above the crowd.

She froze, then slowly turned to face her guardian. Would he force her to leave here and now in front of everyone? Mariam shivered at the thought.

“You will see to our guests.” His words were spoken politely, but they were a command not a request.

Grateful he had not spurned her in front of the entire castle, and knowing she could not refuse, Mariam headed for the men who had dismounted. “Of course.” She forced the response past the lump of fear in her throat. “This way, gentlemen, if you would like refreshments before supper.”

“I’ll see to the horses then join you.” She heard Cameron’s voice over the chitter of excited voices in the courtyard. “And, Mariam, we will discuss your future very soon.” At the words, those who remained in the courtyard turned to stare at her with suspicion before once again looking away.

Mariam tucked her head into her shoulder as she hurried inside, giving herself no time to react. And still, her mind wandered to the man who held her life in his hands as she led their guests into the great hall. She waved them toward a table on the right side of the chamber. “Help yourselves to a light repast prepared by our cook. Laird Sinclair will join you shortly.”

Over the past year, Cameron had treated her as no one else in her life ever had. He did not look at her with fear or suspicion, nor did he appraise her with a lurid eye, gauging what he could take from her. Nay, his eyes were watchful, but always kind. He had treated her with consideration, despite her own poor behavior. And when he spoke to her, he did not speak around her, or over her. Conversations with him were a give and take. He asked her what she thought, and replied to her questions with honest and thoughtful answers such that she had never been given before.

Slowly her fear faded as she gazed about the busy chamber at the men who drank and talked among themselves. She’d enjoyed being the lady of the castle for the year she’d been here. Would all that come to an end now that she had acted against Cameron’s wishes? Sweet heavens, why had she kept silent when she could have cleared Lachlan Douglas with a simple statement of truth?

A chill slithered down her spine. Because she was the daughter of an evil man. Evil blood ran in her veins. Mariam’s knees weakened and she staggered, stumbled, then felt a hand grasp her arm to steady her.

She knew that touch, and the soft scent of the wind and the sea that accompanied it. Cameron. “You should be repulsed by the very sight of me.”

When their eyes met, he did not look at her with cordiality as he had in the past. Nay, this time his gaze brought a flush to her cheeks and sent that evil blood of hers racing through her limbs as it never had before. She swallowed and drew a shaky breath, then stepped back, forcing him to release her arm.

“Nothing about you repulses me, Mariam. It never has,” he said with an odd intensity to his voice and a strange look in his eyes—one she’d never seen before. As laird of the castle, the man before her held enormous power, and she suddenly couldn’t guess at his feelings.

Nervously, she clutched the shell necklace around her neck for support. The shell warmed in her hand as she stared at the man before her. She knew