onet chuckled.
“Oh, yer Faither is too busy competing with his brother to worry about what I’m doin’. As I said, ye should bring yer young man by whenever ye two have the chance.”
“Ma,” Jonet blushed. “He is nae me ‘young man’.”
“Aye, aye, whatever ye say.” Rinalda’s eyes twinkled knowingly, urging Jonet’s cheeks to warm.
She truly did not think this would happen. She had been so determined mere days ago to be rid of him that now these feelings were bombarding her, she could not handle them. Her beliefs had been clear as day. Her wishes to remain alone, free from the guilt from having another man’s death on her hands, set in stone.
Yet here came Matthew, tossing all that into the wind. Jonet was unsure if this was a good or bad thing, if she could truly believe that the death of her past betrothed had all been a terrible coincidence. Though with way she was feeling, the ghost of Matthew’s lips hovering over hers, she knew there was no more use fighting it.
Chapter 12
It had been three days since Matthew had begun living at MacLagain Castle and it had been the three most fun days he had experienced in a while. Jonet was not only beautiful and kind—even though she had tried to be the opposite when they had first met—but she was such a carefree soul that every second with her he enjoyed. She knew how to make anything entertaining, whether they were wandering aimlessly around the Castle, relaxing in the sitting rooms, or enjoying their time outdoors.
Matthew never thought he would enjoy himself this much when his plan had begun. It was not just Jonet either, but the Laird and his brother as well, not to mention Jonet’s charming mother, Rinalda. After he had watched a riveting match between the Laird and Dougal, which ended with the Laird as the victor, Jonet had taken him to see her mother.
Her frailness had paled in comparison to her vibrant personality. Matthew could not decide who Jonet got her spirited attitude from—her father or her mother.
He looked down at the paper in his hand, smelling the sweetcakes that were wrapped inside, and smiled. Early this morning, he had decided to take a trip out to the village to get Jonet sweet cakes. He had not forgotten when she told him that they were her favorite things to eat and he had suddenly possessed the urge to do something nice.
I cannae wait to see her face when she sees I’ve brought these for her.
The mere thought of it put a pep in his step—or rather, Temper’s. The past few days had solidified something for Matthew. This had all begun as a ploy to secure the Lairdship. He had been willing to deceive a woman, like he had done so many, to be rid of that life of a conman once and for all, butnow, he could not deny that he was falling for Jonet.
How could he not? Any man with a lick of sense would have fallen for her too. He couldn’t understand why she had no suitors, despite the rumor about her. It simply did not make sense, but he thanked his lucky stars that he had found her first.
Suddenly, Matthew heard a sharp twanging sound—the whip of an arrow leaving a bow. Half a second later, he caught sight of something shooting towards him and he swung his body to the side without thinking. Temper was not a fan of his sudden movement and he reared back onto his hind legs, throwing Matthew off his back. He fell with a thud, the air whooshing out of his lungs.
For a moment, he was dazed. The world spun around him, and he dug his fingers into the earth, trying to find the cakes that had escaped his hand. Temper was neighing in anger, kicking around Matthew’s body and it forced Matthew to come back to himself quickly, not wanting to be trampled.
“Easy, boy,” he murmured, sitting upright. He held a hand out, as if to steady the world that tilted in his vision.
With all the effort he could muster, he pulled himself to his feet. He patted Temper on his side, making low hums to calm the horse. Thankfully, after a few moments, it worked.
Matthew let out a breath. He looked around with a frown. An arrow? Where did that come from?
He saw the basket lying a short distance away, the wrapped cakes lying halfway out of it. He retrieved it slowly, his eyes darting around to ensure there was no one lying in wait.
He was nearing the Castle now, able to see it a short way ahead of him, but that was all he could see. The terrain that surrounded him was uneven enough to hide anyone that might be out there. Try as he did, he could not locate the shooter.
He patted Temper on his side as a quiet command to stay. Matthew scoured the area around him, straining his eyes to see further ahead just in case the shooter was out of his range. He found no one.
It must have been a hunter trying to find game. Perhaps he had misjudged Temper for another animal.
Even as he told himself these very thoughts while he returned to Temper, he could hardly believe it. But what other reason could it be? Why would anyone try to kill him so plainly in the open?
Matthew shook his head, trying to rid his mind of the incident yet it was to no avail. Though he repeated his reasoning in the back of his mind, the entire situation still struck him as odd.
When he arrived at the Castle, he tucked it all away. He returned Temper to the stables, Georgie of course, rushing to his side to ask him questions about what he had purchased for Jonet. Matthew did not mind the questioning. If anything, he quite liked Georgie’s untethered curiosity. However, as he would do with Jonet, Matthew only gave him little hints, which lead to Georgie leaving him alone to figure it out on his own.
Matthew entered the Castle and was told by one of the servants that Jonet was in the courtyard. He indeed found her there, talking with the maid he had learned was Freya.
Freya noticed him first and she went stiff. He nodded his greeting at her, knowing she was not much of a talker and she nodded back, taking her leave.
“Now look at what ye did,” Jonet drawled. “Ye scared away me maid.”
“It looked as if ye were boring her anyway,” Matthew shot back with a grin. Jonet laughed. He sat next to her, letting her flowery scent settle around him before he handed her the wrapped sweet cakes. “For ye,” eh said.