Written in 50 minutes. I did a basic spell check, but as I was finishing up, I got the news about Ruth Bader Ginsburg, so my brain is just — I’m sure I missed stuff. I’m sorry guys.

---

After the priest blessed their marriage, and they had signed the registry to formalize it, Jason did not linger in the chapel. Elizabeth scarcely had a moment to look at the countenances of her father and siblings before he took her hand and led her out of the church.

Elizabeth blinked at the sunlight in the street of the Royal Mile—the sun had climbed higher in the sky.

“My laird,” a man called, following Jason and Elizabeth. “A moment—”

The men with her new husband—her mind nearly skittered over those words—turned, their faces fierce and ready to do battle.

“His Grace, the Duke of Albany has offered chambers at Holyrod for your wedding night,” the man said, flinching as the rough scowls of three Highlanders were leveled at him.

Jason tensed. “I have rooms at the Red Lion,” he said, “that will do just fine.”

“The Red Lion—” the man sputtered.

“Have her father send her things there. We leave in the morning.” Jason turned, his hand still grasping Elizabeth’s, and started down the stone streets.

Unused to the heavy velvet skirts or the weight of them draped around her, Elizabeth stumbled and nearly fell to the ground.

“Jason, she’s not dressed for a trek through the streets,” one of the men—a dark-haired man with suspicious eyes—said to him a low tone as her husband hauled her back to her feet.

“I just need to walk a bit more slowly,” Elizabeth said quickly. “I—’tis not my gown. I—” She fell silent as Jason’s eyes fell on her.

“Would it be better to take the rooms at the place?” the other man, with fair hair, suggested. “She might be more comfortable—”

“Oh, no—” Elizabeth shook her head, wincing as her husband’s face tightened. “Please. I do not wish to be any trouble.

“Are you not a Lowlander?” the fair-haired man asked, spitting out the term as if it were akin to Hell. “Silk sheets and goose feathers?”

“No,” Elizabeth said quietly. She drew her hand out of Jason’s grasp, her chest tightening. “I am from the Lowlands, but that is not my experience. A cot or even some padding on the floor will do fine. I ask for nothing special. You did—” She chanced a look at Jason’s blue eyes, finding them as frustratingly closed to her as she had the day before, as she had in the chapel.

It was not until she had taken his hand, until their skin had touched, that she’d been able to glimpse anything. He was a kind man, frustrated at the turn of events. He had not come to Edinburgh to wed and did not want this. He was prepared to do his duty, and she knew he would not hurt her.

“You did not expect to be looking after a female, I imagine,” she finished in a small voice. “I will endeavor not to be a burden.”

“Difficult,” the dark-haired man said. “You’re a female. It’s in the description.”

“Johnny—” Jason snapped. He took a deep breath. “Forgive me,” he said shortly. “These are my men. Johnny O’Brien and Francis Corelli.”

Elizabeth drew her brows together at the strange last names—Irish and Italian. Unusual to find in a Highland clan. “Hello,” she said uncertainly. She smoothed her hand down the skirts of her velvet gown, a bit dismayed to find the bottom of the skirts had been splashed with mud.

“We’ll go to the Red Lion,” Jason said finally. “I arranged another room last night,” he told her. “You will be comfortable.”

She blinked at that, but before she could discover more, he turned back to Johnny and Francis. “And have a care with how you speak to her. She’s your lady and deserves the respect you show my aunt.”

“Right,” Johnny said slowly, squinting at Jason. “Will she be dunking me in the loch like Lady Tracy? Because I can only take so much—”

Jason scowled, took Elizabeth’s hand, and the four of them continued down the Royal Mile again. This time, Jason tried harder to match the stride of her shorter legs and was more careful avoid the mud.

—

He did not know what to think of his new wife.

When the regent’s man had offered the comfort and luxury of the palace, Jason had been irritated. He could take care of his clan, and it was better for Elizabeth to learn now what kind of life she could expect as his wife. He expected her to pout and complain when he’d turnd down the offer—

Only for her to support him, back him up, even when Johnny had suggested Jason change his mind. And she’d barely flinched when Francis and Johnny had all but insulted her as a weak Lowlander.

When he’d seen her in that velvet gown, he’d been irritated. She was beautiful of course but it was completely unsuitable for a Highland woman. If her entire wardrobe was made up of garments like that —

But then he’d learned it was not her gown, but a gift given to her Albany—

His teeth clenched as he showed her inside the dark and dim entryway of the Red Lion. He did not care to be reminded that his new wife had done some service to the Crown that he had not been told.

She would tell him the truth, Jason decided. She would decide today where her loyalty was to lie — with him or with the Crown.

Elizabeth looked around the room, her eyes wide and Jason felt as though he was looking at the interior for the first time. It was dark, with low ceilings—he could smell something unpleasant from the public rooms.

He waited for her to complain, but she did not. Instead, she smiled at him, a slight curve of her lips as she looked at him expectantly, folding her hands in front of her. “Are we taking a meal down here?” she asked softly. “Is that why we’re waiting?”

“No,” Jason muttered, wishing she would just do what he expected her to. He did not care for surprises. He looked to Johnny and Francis. “You are both to go to her family’s inn. Get her things. If you need to arrange a pack horse—”

“Oh, that won’t be necessary.” Elizabeth flinched when Jason turned, scowling at the interruption. “My apologies, sir. I only have a few things. They’re—they’re in the vestibule at the church. I—I did not bring much to Edinburgh.”

“What is much?” Johnny asked suspiciously. “Jason’s sister told me that once, and she had an entire trunk—”

“There should be a sack in the room where I met with His Grace,” Elizabeth said. “That is all I had with me.”

“A sack.” Francis cleared her throat. “Well, then, Johnny, we ought to track it down for milady, and take our leave.”

“You’ll have to send for your things from—” Jason hesitated. “Where are you from?”

“Annan, in Dumfrieshire,” Elizabeth said, “but ‘tis not necessary—”

“Why?”

“Well, ‘tis just clothing,” Elizabeth said lightly. “And I’m told the weather is harsher in the North, is it not? It won’t be appropriate. Why go to the trouble if most of it will not be wearable?”

He had no answer to that perfectly logical statement. Instead, he took her hand and led her up the cramped staircase. The Red Lion had perhaps not been the best choice for his wife, he realized, as her skirts brushed the sides of the narrow hallway. He pushed open the second room he had arranged for her and allowed her to walk in ahead of him.

Elizabeth walked into the center of the room, and he studied her reaction to the small room, with its double bed, thin mattress, and night table. Near the window, there was another stand with a bowl for washing up, but the room was spare and not nearly as comfortable as rooms in the palace would have been.

She stared at the bed for a long moment, then swallowed hard, looking at him. “I understand that this was not your choice,” she said softly. “And I meant what I said earlier. I will try very hard not to be a burden. I cannot say you will not even notice me, but—”

Jason closed the door behind him, then faced her, crossing his arms. He waited for her to meet his eyes, her own shadowed in the dim light of the room. Little sunlight reached this area of the building and he hadn’t lit any of the candles.

“What service did you do for the Crown?”

—

It had been too much to hope, Elizabeth thought with a sinking sigh, that her new husband would be impressed with her lack of complaints thus far and not inquire about the reasons the regent had wanted to arrange a marriage for her.

In truth, she was bewildered by the turn of events as well — why had the regent not simply thanked her and sent her home with a caution to her father to keep her hidden?

Why arrange a marriage to a man that Albany respected and, she sensed, feared, if he did not have some sort of reason? And what excuse could she given her new husband if it could not be truth?

It could never be the truth. Jason Morgan was not a man to countenance such a curse, she surmised. He might not cast her out or beat her for what she could do, what she could see—

But neither would she ever be a true wife. He would never allow her to be a part of his family. There might never be children.

“His Grace told me I was not to speak of it,” Elizabeth said. Her throat tightened as his jaw clenched. “He swore me to secrecy.”

“Secrecy,” Jason repeated. “And you would keep this oath?”

“I—I would,” she said in a halting voice even as she broke their eye contact, cast her eyes as the uneven wooden planks beneath their feat. “All I have is my word,” she continued. “Where I come from, a man lives and dies by the strength of his word. If he says something will be done, it must be done. Is it not the same in the Highlands?”

“Aye, keeping your word is an important thing,” Jason said slowly. He walked towards her, stopping just short. “But it is not as important as loyalty.”

“I—I am loyal—I will be loyal—” Elizabeth promised. She raised her eyes. “I promise you, Laird, I will try very hard—”

“You cannot be loyal to me and hold a secret that endangers my clan,” Jason told her, bluntly.

“It doesn’t—” But tears stung her eyes. It could, and she knew that. She would never mean it, but it always brought her misfortune.

“This service you’ve done to the Crown—the Duke has not discharged is debt by marrying you to me,” Jason said. “This was not repayment. I am not important enough for that—”

“I—”

“This was protection,” he continued. “You have been placed under my protection. And you will not tell me why.”

“I—I—” Elizabeth pressed her lips together, nodded. “Yes. I believe that must explain it. But I gave my word to His Grace. You cannot ask me to break my word.”

“No, I cannot ask it. Nor can I command it.” Jason returned to the door, opened it slightly, then looked back at her. “But if you will not tell me, then I cannot trust that you are loyal. And I will not have a wife who is not loyal.”

“I—” All her hopes and dreams extinguished in an instant. Elizabeth stared at him. “You will set me aside already?” she asked, shaking. Her father would be furious—

“I have been asked to give you the protect of my name and my clan,” Jason said. He opened the door fully, then stood on the threshold. “I swore to the duke that I would see you safe. I never promised anything else.”

“B-But—”

“It will be up to you,” Jason told her. “What life we are to live. I will send your things to you when they arrive. Good day, Elizabeth.”

Then he closed the door.

Elizabeth stared blindly at it long after he left. If she told him the truth, he would never take her to his bed. Never give her his children.

But neither would he do those things if she held her tongue.

What was she supposed to do?

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