Saeran forgot all about the food as she raced to her room. Her heart was pounding, her face was burning, and her limbs were trembling.

What was wrong with her? Moreover, what was wrong with him?

She threw open the door and slammed it shut behind her, locking it. Wobbly legs carried her to the bed, and then she was spread-eagle.

When he’d first found her, she hadn’t known what to think. Escape. Escape and return to safety. Blaine. Blaine and her betrothal to the laird. Anything but let him manhandle her into his chair, his lap, his arms.

A shiver went through her at the memory of his arms around her. Thick, heavenly arms that were made for holding a woman. More than a tremble went through her—it was a burst of heat between her legs.

She moaned, partly from despair, and partly from her reaction to him.

He was meant for her sister, damnit. Not her! Not Saeran, who was meant to be a boy for all of this. Tears of frustration and fear burned her eyes. She could have been found out. She’d walked right into The Lion’s den without even knowing it.

None of the tears fell. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe deeply.

He’d almost kissed her.

He’d taken her by the chin and had been a breath away from pressing his lips to hers.

She nearly fainted at the mere memory. Then the anger set in.

“How dare he!” she raged, slapping the bed with a balled up fist—a fist she should have driven into his face when he’d pulled her onto his lap. It was wrong, scandalous, and unseemly! What kind of man would drag a servant onto his lap and hold her there as if she were a pet?

A barbarian, that’s who. And a barbarian was what he should be!

Except for the fact that he hadn’t done anything in the “I see, I take, I beast” manner. Aye, he’d forced her to sit on his lap, but if she were honest with herself, she would say that she hadn’t given up much of a fight. The shock and fear had kept her still, as well as the interest that had welled inside of her at the hard contact of their bodies meeting.

Never in her life had she experienced something like that. The only man to embrace her had been her father. The last time she sat on his lap was when she had been a toddler.

The way Shaw had held her in his arms had not been paternal. It had held the promise of bliss, as much as he tried to remain chaste with his hold on her.

That should have been Blaine in his arms. Her sister, the one meant for him, should have been the one on his lap with his gentle, commanding teasing. It should have been her sister hearing his chuckles and watching him smile.

Blaine. Not Saeran.

“No,” she whispered to herself, scrubbing a hand over her face. She closed her eyes, pushing her head into the bed. “No, I made it okay. He’ll dine with Blaine on the morrow’s eve. He’ll begin to notice my sister, and then Blaine will start to calm down, and then everything will be okay.”

Everything.

Except she had to endure more of The Lion tomorrow. Her stomach cramped at the thought, but it wasn’t purely from trepidation. It was more of a mixture of dread, excitement, and guilt. Always the guilt. Saeran rolled onto her stomach, groaning.

How had she gotten herself into this situation? How? Why was Saeran always the one thrown into the terrible situations? Why was Saeran making a fool of herself and ruining everything? He was more likely to find out now. After they spent time together, in the daylight, he’d recognize who she was. He had to. He’d note the similarities between the boy he knew as Saeran, and the woman he knew as Alice. The only hope she had at hiding her identity from him was the dirt and soot she spread over her face when she was a boy. The idea had been Blaine’s from the beginning, and truly, besides the short appearance of her hair, she wasn’t sure if it was a very convincing disguise.

Once he found out, Blaine would know. He’d mention it to her. Saeran knew it.

Bile rose in her throat.

If that were to happen, that would create an even thicker barrier between her and her sister. She’d already threatened her sister. Even though it had been empty, Blaine would take it to heart—it didn’t matter if the threats were made up or not.

As much as she disliked her sister right now, the thought of that happening was unbearable. Blaine was all she had left.

She sucked back her tears, maneuvering until she was cuddled under the covers. I could keep myself in the dark, she thought, rubbing her arms as a chill stole over her. She could hide her face in the shadows and use more soot as a boy. Plus, she thought desperately, The Lion wouldn’t notice right away, would he? He’d hardly ever seen Saeran as a boy. Definitely not enough to tell if she was one person pretending to be another. Aye, and Connor had already said he’d be too busy with his feuding to bother with anyone except work.

Mayhap that applied to not only Saeran, but Alice as well. If he were gone so much that he didn’t notice, and she was hiding and doing the accounts, everything could work out. She would go to him as a woman on the morrow as a favor to Blaine. Then he would realize what he was missing and he’d forget all about ‘Alice’.

Problem solved.

She settled into the bed, nodding to herself. The problem was most definitely solved.

Saeran gradually fell asleep, and her dreams were the exact opposite of what she’d concluded.

The problem wasn’t solved in her dreams. The only thing she saw behind her closed lids was a large, burly man, with a small, blonde woman cradled in his arms, her face lifted to his...ready for a kiss that most certainly happened.

* * *

Waking up was painful, to say the least. Her body was sore, her mind was drained, and she was dreading the entire day. To add to that, her body wasn’t only sore. It was throbbing with the dreams she’d had of a man she couldn’t bring herself to name, not when she was about to face him.

She dressed in her boyish garb and headed downstairs, stealing an apple. Blaine was never up this early, so she hoped she could ask the laird about the accounts before her sister came down. Her face flamed at the first sight of him coming in from the kitchen doors.

His chest was bare, sweat dotting his heavily muscled body. Her mouth went dry.

She hadn’t thought of how daunting it would be to approach him as another person. As she came up to him in the kitchen, she had to repeat herself several times to make her voice loud enough for him to hear.

“What was that?” he asked sharply, shoving an apple into his mouth. He grabbed a cloth off the counter, swiping it over his face and neck, then tossed it aside. The apple crunched as he bit into it.

“Connor told me that you needed someone to work the accounts for you,” she said loudly.

He gave her an arch look, taking another bite. “Ye’ ken numbers?”

She nodded. “Aye. Ever since I was a lad. I know I was taken off the training so—”

“Start on them tomorrow. Brodrick will review your work. If yer proficient enough, I’ll let ye’ do them.” He took one more bite of the apple, then set it on the counter.

“Och, where do ye’ think yer going?” a familiar voice called from behind her. She moved out of the way as Brodrick walked in, followed by several redheaded men—the McGregors. Saeran pressed herself so far into the wall that she nearly blended in.

Just like The Lion, the McGregors had an equally renowned name. The McGregor had been the one to train Kane Shaw in battle after his father had died, and together, they’d dominated the Highlands. Besides the Campbells, the Shaws and McGregors were the two most powerful clans in the Highlands, and Saeran was not foolish enough to ignore that.

She’d been lucky so far. Not a single McGregor had spared her a glance.

“Fields,” the laird grunted. “Need to work off this...this problem.”

Brodrick burst into laughter. The McGregor, the laird of the clan, chuckled. “What kind o’ problem are ye’ having, lad? Ye’ look like someone set fire to yer best plaid.”

“She might as well have,” he growled, glaring at Brodrick when he tossed the unfinished apple to him.

“‘She’?” The McGregor asked, raising a brow. “Have ye’ finally spoken to Blaine then?”

Saeran looked between the laird and the redheaded man. He knew of Blaine? She wanted to slap herself at the question. Of course he did. There wasn’t a single person at this keep who didn’t know of Blaine.

“If it’d been Blaine, I wouldn’t be working off a night of no sleep. Nay, it was a bonny lass,” he said, shaking his head. He took a chunk out of the apple, biting right to the core. Saeran flinched pressed as far into the wall as she could.

He was talking about her.

Then she frowned.

What had he meant by that? Saeran had half a mind to ask him, but the McGregor was too busy laughing. Brodrick waved his brows suggestively while taking a loaf of bread. He leaned against the counter, tearing off chunks and tossing them to the other McGregors.

They were making themselves comfortable right in the kitchen. She mentally slapped herself. Unless Saeran wanted all attention drawn to her, she wouldn’t be able to move from her spot. The men would focus on a rat if it scurried by, and Saeran definitely felt like one.

“Ye’ ken ye’ got to be focusing on Blaine,” Brodrick muttered around a piece of bread. “Although, none of us blame ye’. The woman is a right dragon. Does no’ hurt to have a bit o’ fun before it’s too late.”

Kane rolled his eyes.

The McGregor spoke up before he could continue his banter with Brodrick. “We’ve all discussed yer proposition and found it the most logical. Quick, easy, painful. It’ll hit them hard when they are no’ prepared for it.”

Kane nodded, obviously pleased. He finished off the apple while she frowned. What were they talking about?

“I donna want this bloody. I want it to be a lesson for them.”

“Aye. Ye’ do realize that by doing this, the Campbells will be drawn into it.”

“Do I have yer backing?” Kane asked, sounding like he already knew the answer.

The McGregor grunted. “Ye’ ken ye' do, Kane. I’d no’ leave my favorite Shaw to go against those sorry bastards, although I’m sure ye’ could take them by yerself.”

Kane laughed. The sound was low and deadly. Chilling. Not close to the man she’d met the night before. Saeran wrapped her arms around her chest, watching him intently.

“If this gets too out of hand, I may just take it upon myself to show him how a battle is actually fought.”

“Aye, well, I want to be there for it,” The McGregor said, nodding his head. “Our men are packed, and the ride will take us a sennight. We are heading off now. If anything happens, ye’ ken to send for me.”

Kane raised a brow. “Are ye’ doubting my skills, brother?”

The McGregor chuckled ruefully. “I trained ye’, didn’t I? To doubt ye’ would be to doubt myself, and I’m much too arrogant for that.”

“Not so much arrogant as old,” Kane said, laughing when The McGregor slapped him on the back with extra force.

“Keep yer jabs to yerself, lad. I’m no’ too old that I canna kick yer ass to Sunday and back.”

They said their goodbyes, with more jokes from Kane, and then the McGregors were gone.

“Going to miss ye’ in the mornings,” Brodrick said, jerking her back to reality. She froze, staring at him.

“Me?” she asked, pointing at herself.

He laughed, nodding. “Yer so amusing to watch, lad. The way you throw things about. It’s like watching a—”

“Saeran!”

All three of them made a sound of displeasure as Blaine’s furious voice echoed through the halls.

“Saeran, where are you!”

“I think yer on yer own,” Brodrick said, nodding his head to Kane. “I have men to train.” He was out the door before he’d finished his sentence.

“I do not enjoy searching for you, Saeran!” her sister continued loudly. Saeran’s lips pressed. Obviously her outburst hadn’t done a single thing.

“If she’s looking for ye’, I think I left my horse on fire,” Kane said, completely serious. She stared at him with a dropped jaw.

“You cannot just run away from her,” she hissed as her sister’s steps came closer.

“If my horse is on fire, I sure as hell can run away. Who else will water it?” he growled, pushing away from the counter. He stalked to the door, just as Blaine stepped into the kitchen.

She stopped, then stared. Kane froze in his tracks, like he knew he’d been caught. Which he had. Saeran felt a small moment of triumph when Blaine’s eyes zeroed in on him.

“My lord!” Blaine said brightly, running up to him. The dirty look she cast Saeran only lasted a moment. “How did your morning fare?”

Saeran watched as her sister curtsied. Kane only stared—at the space beside Blaine’s head. She frowned. How utterly rude! And he thought that “Alice” was going to show up for a conversation with him when he couldn’t carry out on his part of the bargain? No way, no how. She crossed her arms over her chest.

“It fared quite well, my lady.” He looked at the door, not a single ounce of interest in his voice for Blaine.

“The cook will be preparing mutton for supper.” Blaine was trying to draw his attention back to her, and it obviously wasn’t working. Saeran was getting angrier by the second. He’d lied to her! He thought “Alice” wouldn’t know he wasn’t doing his part of the deal, so he could get away with it. “Would you sit with me tonight?”

Saeran fully expected Kane to either shrug or walk away. But he didn’t.

“Well?” Blaine asked, peering up at him. She looked lovely today. The sanguine red of her gown set off the deep, black-as-night color of her hair. Coal lined her eyes, and her lips were as red as her dress.

Saeran waited with baited breath. If he said no, she’d be off the hook. She wouldn’t have to see him as Alice. If he said yes, she would, and then Blaine would have her time with the laird. She wanted him to say no—for more reasons than she was willing to admit.

“Aye,” he said after a moment. “Tonight.”

Without another word, he nodded. He strode out of the door, into the blinding light of the morning sun. Blaine rounded on her with a wide, happy grin.

Saeran didn’t return it.

She was still angry over last night and what had happened between the two of them. She’d helped her sister with the laird only because that was what needed to happen, not because Blaine was back in her good graces.

Saeran turned away from Blaine, walking out of the same door the laird had. She only had a little bit of time before midday. The stables needed cleaning, as well as the horses.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Blaine asked from behind her. Saeran sighed, ignoring her sister. “I asked you a question, Saeran! Where are you going?”

Blaine ran in front of the doorway. Saeran stared at her, lips pressed.

Her sister frowned. “What is your problem?”

“Are you serious?” Saeran asked quietly, angrily.

“Yes,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “I am. You didn’t even say good morning to me before you came down for breakfast.” Her eyes narrowed into slits. “Are you truly still upset from last night?”

Saeran shook her head, laughing ruefully. “I have duties to attend to, Blaine.”

“You cannot just walk away from me like this!” Blaine exclaimed.

Saeran did exactly that.

“Aye,” she said emotionlessly, striding away from her. The stables were her haven. Blaine was too proper to come to the dirty grounds. When she was close enough to smell the telltale scent that clung to the stables, she knew her sister would leave her alone, at least for a little while.

She set to work, her chest hurting and her head pounding. There was too much for her to worry about, she thought as she brushed down the horses. When her mare moved uneasily under her hands, she realized her movements were angry and rushed. She slowed, leaning her forehead against the mare’s neck.

“Why is everything so complicated?” she whispered. “Everything is falling down around me.”

The horse neighed as if it felt her pain.

“Did you know,” she said softly, “that I have an ally now? Connor, the laird’s squire. It is strange, isn’t it, after how angry he was with me. It’s like God is trying to balance my life. Now that Connor knows, Blaine and I are not getting along at all. Though I fear it’s entirely my fault.”

“How is that?”

She whirled around at the sound of Connor’s voice, putting a hand over her heart.

“You scared me,” she whispered fiercely, rubbing her mare’s nose before moving to the next one.

He laughed, grabbing a brush. “You scared me, my lady. This is the second time I’ve walked upon you talking to yourself.”

She sniffed indignantly, gesturing to the mare with a wave of her brush. “I was not talking to myself. She happens to be a very good listener, which is more than I can say for my sister.”

Connor grimaced sympathetically, taking the horse adjacent to her. “Do you mind if I ask what happened between the two of you? All you’ve done is serve her every need. I can’t imagine what would make her angry with you,” he said, the bitterness barely veiled. She wrinkled her nose.

“It wasn’t something she did,” she admitted. “You see how she is.”

“Everyone here does. Did you finally stick up for yourself?”

“What might you mean by that?”

He gave her a point-blank stare. Saeran sighed, dropping her gaze. She knew what he was talking about. Blaine had everyone she knew wrapped around her finger, whether they hated or loved her. She had the kind of personality that wouldn’t be denied. As her younger sister, Saeran had simply accepted that.

If Blaine wanted something, she’d take it or use other people to get it. Saeran had been one of her main scapegoats throughout life. She hated herself for only realizing it now. Blaine was her sister, her blood. It wasn’t fair that Saeran was always the one put out.

Even now, with what she was doing with the laird, it was for Blaine. So Blaine could have the romance. So Blaine could have the power. So Blaine could have the opportunity Saeran would never have.

A husband. Love. Children.

Blaine was going to get all of it, and even though Saeran realized that and hated it out of pure jealousy, she was helping her sister.

She guessed that it made up for her nasty thoughts toward her sister. She shouldn’t be jealous of Blaine for something she had no part in. Saeran’s barrenness was God’s way of telling her that she wasn’t suited for married life or children.

“I suppose I finally said ‘no’,” she murmured. Her anger drained completely. She had no reason to be angry with Blaine. She couldn’t help that her sister had led a pampered life, that she was who she was. Blaine couldn’t help herself any more than Saeran could make herself hate books. Change in a person wasn’t as simple as it appeared.

“You do not sound too happy about that,” Connor said, finishing the horse he’d been on and moving to the next. She shrugged, following suit.

“I think I was wrong in—”

Connor came to her stall and grabbed her by the shoulders so quickly, she didn’t realize what was happening until it was over.

“Don’t you dare say that,” he warned, shaking her gently. His voice was fiercer than his hold. “We’ve all seen the way she treats you. It is good that you took a stand for yourself—so do not think otherwise. She has to get it through her thick, pampered skull that you aren’t built for her pleasure. You are a human with feelings, just like the rest of us. How can you justify the way she treats you?”

She pulled back from the vehemence of his conviction.

“She’s my sister,” Saeran said quietly. “My first loyalty is to her.”

“No,” he snapped, pulling away from her and pushing a hand through his hair. “Your first loyalty is to yourself. My lady, I am the youngest of seven older brothers and five older sisters. Do you think I survived them because I did everything they asked of me? Listened to them berate me on every single thing I did?”

She stared at him.

“I put them in their place as much as they put me in mine,” he told her, point a finger in her face. “I never—not once—let my siblings walk on me as much as you’ve let Blaine. When was the last time the two of you spoke about you?”

Saeran worried her lip.

“I do not see how that—”

“Answer the question, my lady,” he snapped.

She looked at her lap, sighing. “If I must be honest...I cannot remember.”

“Exactly. Blaine is not a true sister if she can’t get out of her own head long enough to talk about your day, or how much it pains you to be beat on in the training field, or how much it hurts your back to clean out the stalls. You never had to do any of this before, correct?”

She nodded slightly.

Connor sighed and shook his head angrily. “Does she not think this hasn’t been hard on you, as well? God, I could take a pitchfork and shove it up her—”

“Connor,” she said quickly, putting a comforting hand on his elbow. “It’s fine. Truly—”

“How can you say that?!” He pulled away from her angrily. “She has you so brainwashed that you don’t even realize how much of a problem this is! Does she ever compliment you? Ever?”

“Now that does not have anything to do with what we are discussing—”

“Tell me, Saeran,” he demanded. The hard edge he put to her name made her eyes close with acceptance. Connor was dead set on proving whatever point he felt he had to make.

“There is not much to compliment me about,” she said, sighing. “If you did not notice, I am dressed in trews and covered in horse manure.”

He gave her a flat glare.

“When you are dressed as a proper lady. What does she say to you?”

“Well…” She frowned, hands wringing. Blaine never complimented her, she realized. Whenever Blaine wanted attention and compliments, she got them.

Saeran could recall the one time she’d been excited about a gown their father had gotten her for her birthday. A beautiful sky-blue piece. It had only enhanced the blue of her eyes and the gold locks of her hair—at least, that’s what her mother had told her.

She’d ran to her sister’s room, excited to show off the new gown. Instead, she was greeted with a pitiful sneer. “You’re too thin for such a dress, dear sister. Mother only said you looked beautiful to make you feel better,” she’d said. When Saeran had only stared at her, too stunned to speak, Blaine had smiled. “Gray is a color more suited to you, and it should be baggy. It’ll add some girth to you!”

Saeran had run out of the room in tears.

“I’m too thin,” she said, frowning at him. “Too thin, too big in the chest, and too...blonde.”

“Are you serious?”

She blushed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I can’t help the way I—”

“No, Saeran. Do you truly believe what she said to you? That’s the biggest load of shite I’ve ever heard—excuse my language.” He continued to watch Saeran, his eyes blazing, and then he turned away sharply, once again shaking his head.

A thought occurred to her.

“Do you think... Do you think the laird will think I’m repulsive if I came to him as a woman and not a man?”

He turned around sharply, eyes wide with hope. “Why do you ask? Are you going to reveal yourself to him?”

“No, no. I was simply...curious.”

Connor slumped against the stall, obviously disappointed. “If you aren’t going to tell him the truth, why are you thinking on it?” he muttered petulantly. “There isn’t any use in it.”

Saeran blushed, feeling like a fool. There had to be something about her that the laird liked, or he wouldn’t have made such a silly deal with her. What kind of man would go as far as to ask a woman he’d never met to share her company? It was only an exchange for what they both knew would be an unpleasant encounter with Blaine. Aye, there had to be something about her that was likeable. She did, after all, have Connor as a friend.

Connor, who was friends with the laird, and who knew what the man liked.

She gave him a look, then smiled, ignoring the guilt that rose inside of her. She shouldn’t try to impress the laird, as he was meant for her sister. But in that moment, she didn’t care.

“Connor, I do not want you to get the wrong idea in your head,” she warned, already groaning mentally when his face perked up. He straightened from the wall. “But... The laird and I are meeting at midday.”

“You’re meeting,” he repeated. “Didn’t you just say that you weren’t going to—?”

“He thinks I am someone else,” she told him, waving his concern away. “Alice, though I didn’t tell him that was my name directly.”

“How does that make sense?” he asked. “Actually, how on earth did this come about? Is your sister aware of this? Has she already given you trouble over it?” His eyes widened, and his hands began flapping in the air excitedly. “Oh, you need a beautiful gown for this. He’ll fall at your feet, I just know it!”

Saeran blushed.

“Mayhap, but... I do not wish to go overboard on the matter, Connor. This is the only time I’ll be meeting with the laird.”

“How did this even happen?”

Her blush worsened. “I...last night, I had a bit of a lapse in judgment. He came upon me in the kitchen. To shorten the story, he promised me that if I met with him today, he would eat with my sister tonight. Blaine has been getting awfully angry over his negligence,” she explained, wincing when his eyes darkened.

“You agreed to help your sister? Even after everything she’s put you through?” He threw up his hands. She ran forward, calmly patting his arm.

“I did not start the night off with that intention,” she said wearily. “It just...happened. The laird can be quite adamant when he wants something.”

Connor’s eyes locked on hers, widening. “He wants you.”

Saeran burst into laughter.

“No, my lady. He does! He’s had no time for women of late, including Gwen. He wants to spend time with you,” Connor said, his voice dropping to a sigh of happiness. She looked at him strangely. “That is so romantic! You’re going to look beautiful.”

“I am?” She backed away from him uneasily, not trusting the determination that had settled over his face.

“Yes. You are. So enchanting that the laird will lose all thoughts of Blaine and ask for your hand.”

Her jaw dropped.

“Connor, do not say such things! That cannot happen. Kane Shaw is meant for Blaine, and that’s that.”

He waggled his brows at her.

“The heart wants what the heart wants, love. Come! We must get you ready for your lover’s tryst.”

“This is in no way a lover’s tryst! Not of any kind,” she insisted, resisting when he took her by the hand, dragging her out of the stables. “What about my duties? Brodrick will have my hide if he finds that I didn’t complete them.”

“You would rather wade through horse shite than turn into a beauty for the laird? My lady, we need to discuss your priorities.”