Highlander Ever After

by Paula Quinn

  She could feel all their eyes on her, their ears straining to hear what she said in her small, soft voice that caused the chief to lower his jewel-like gaze.

  “I’m sorry ye were no’ given a choice in this,” he said with sincerity. “None of us were. I dinna force my bairns to wed strangers.”

  “But this time you did,” she pointed out boldly since he hadn’t ordered her to be taken away yet.

  “’Twas the queen’s order,” he defended. “’Tis a good union and will keep the clan safe.”

  “I know,” she conceded, sparing him one last look before she veiled her gaze again. There was nothing else to say. For now, at least.

  Chapter Three

  Adam opened his eyes with a groan and kinked his neck. He was a fool for not sleeping in his bed. A fool for not taking what was his. Hell, he’d wanted to kiss her, feel her soft curves against him again, but he wouldn’t do it while she hated him. He wasn’t a complete rogue.

  He reached for Goliath and touched the empty space around the chair. He frowned, remembering his wife’s terror at his beloved friend. Goliath didn’t like her. Not a good sign.

  He sat up and stretched and looked at the bed. She wasn’t in it. He hadn’t slept long. Where was she?

  Had she dared venture out without him, into the midst of the savages? If she only knew how women were cherished here.

  It would likely make her more unhappy to know she would never be cherished so. He wouldn’t open himself to her when she loved another. It wouldn’t be difficult to remain unaffected by her. In fact, he hadn’t met a lass yet who had had any impact on him.

  He hadn’t been married to any of them.

  Hell. Did he want to be miserable until death did them part?

  He rubbed his grumbling belly and rose from his chair to dress in fresh clothes. He’d think about it all later. He hurried, hoping his brothers Braigh and Tamhas hadn’t eaten all the food.

  Was Sina with them? Did he want her to be? The lads were rowdy, especially Braigh, who, if he wasn’t feeding his six-foot-four frame, was likely wrestling Goliath and Bronwyn on the floor. They’d convince her that what she thought about Highlanders was correct.

  It was, mostly. But there had always been extenuating circumstances to his clan’s merciless reputation. He doubted she’d ever be interested in hearing them.

  Donning doeskin breeches, boots, and a dark green tunic pleated at the waist with a belt, he left his chambers. He knew where everyone would be. He ran his fingers through his obsidian locks and then headed for the dining hall.

  Goliath pounded up the stairs and met him halfway.

  “I hope ye werena causin’ chaos fer my wife,” Adam told him, petting his head on the way down. “Hell, I know those words sound ridiculous. I know ye’re likely jealous, but ye canna bite her. Understand?”

  Goliath barked and, with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, followed Adam to the dining hall.

  Before Adam stepped over the threshold, Bronwyn, his mother’s loyal hound and one of Goliath’s sisters, hurried out to him.

  Adam stopped to give her a proper greeting, leaving the others inside waiting for him just a moment longer.

  “Nip him in the arse if he does anything foolish,” he told her about her brother and then stepped inside.

  His eyes settled on Sina immediately. He took in the sight of her in her wrinkled gown and tousled bun, sitting beside his empty chair. She looked like a princess, regal and fragile…and alone in a hall filled with people.

  She looked up from her cup, her large, luminous eyes lit by the flames and fear when she saw him.

  He frowned, thinking that she was afraid of him and that last night he’d given her reason to be. But he’d been patient on their wedding night, hadn’t he? He’d understood how all of this was affecting her, and he hadn’t touched her.

  She caught his scowl and lowered her cup, and her lashes. She was beauty incarnate, like a fine painting, halting his breath.

  Drawn to her by the sudden desire to comfort her, he moved closer.

  But she didn’t want his comfort. She didn’t want anything, and he didn’t want to have to give it. But now that he was a husband, he could no longer behave like a careless rogue. He took his seat beside her and apologized for being late.

  “Yer wife explained ye were up most of the night,” his father allowed and offered the server a smile for hurrying to his son’s plate.

  She’d spoken up for him? How did she know he was up most of the night? Had she been awake as well—all those hours still and quiet? He slipped his gaze to her and raised his brows. Poor, determined lass.

  She continued eating.

  He liked the adornments dangling from her ears. The pearls added brightness to her cheeks and softened her already delicate profile.

  “Adam,” Braigh said, thankfully sitting at the table. “Ye still comin’ raidin’ with us?”

  He wanted to. What would she do here while he was away? What did he care? She’d be doing the same thing whether he was here or not. Was she going to change his life the first day of their marriage? No. He wouldn’t let this change anything.

  “Aye, I’m comin’.”

  “What is it exactly that you’ll be raiding?” his wife asked, looking a bit pale.

  “Cattle,” he replied. “’Tis a common and honorable practice in the Highlands.”

  “Among outlaws,” she murmured.

  “Among Highlanders,” he corrected, cutting her a hard look. He didn’t usually take offense to his clan’s past. He knew the proscription was still in full effect. But no one was actively hunting them with dogs. In the Highlands, MacGregors gathered in numbers larger than four, and his kin defied the law and always carried weapons. Thanks to their kinship with the queen, as long as MacGregors obeyed the laws below the Highlands, they’d be left alone.

  By tying him to the future king’s daughter, illegitimate or not, Anne was ensuring his clan’s continued safety.

  Adam understood the importance of it for his kin. That was the only reason he’d agreed to it. But after a day and night of listening to her cries and prayers for deliverance from him, he was beginning to regret his decision—no matter the beauty of her frame.

  She offered him a forced, overly sweet smile.

  Sincere or not, the appearance of her dimple captivated him.

  “I don’t know anything about your way of life,” she said, sounding meek to his ears. He knew better. “How could I?” she continued. “I was given no time to prepare for it. You will have to forgive my ignorance.”

  “I will,” he agreed, lifting his cup to his mouth. “We’ll remedy it, of course, and teach ye our ways. Will we no’?” he put to his kin sitting around them.

  They all agreed, as he knew they would.

  “I…”

  He slipped his gaze back to Sina and her wide, reluctant eyes when she spoke. He waited for the rest.

  Her breath grew short, revealed in the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the slight cleavage of her breasts. Her eyes weren’t haughty or angry, but determined. “I don’t want to learn.”

  He pressed his lips together and quirked his mouth to one side, more amused than angry. “Then this will be the only time I fergive yer ignorance.”

  She stared at him for a moment. Adam couldn’t read her. He was too busy trying not to pity her too much…not to feel anything for her.

  “I don’t care,” she told him on a soft whisper, helping him find victory. “I want to go home.”

  “This is yer home now,” he said with a note of frustration tainting his voice.

  “My home…and everything else was taken from me.”

  Adam spread his gaze over his kin. He knew them all well, knew the subtlest nuances of their facial expressions, the language of their bodies. They weren’t enjoying breakfast. Even the twins fidgeted in their seats before leaving the table.

  “Sina,” Abby said after tossing him a sympathetic smile. “Please understand that this wasna
Adam’s choice either.”

  “I do,” his wife replied.

  Adam found his gaze fastened on her lips while she spoke. They were narrow and plump, shaped like a heart…

  “Do you think that makes it easier, or even more difficult?” she continued, breaking the spell her mouth had over him. “It gives no comfort to know he was forced, as I was.”

  “I’m glad to hear such a compassionate response from the woman who just became my daughter.”

  All eyes turned to Davina, wife of the chief, seated opposite her son. Adam smiled at her. He was happy his mother had been raised in an abbey, hidden from the world, free of her name and the weight that came with it. Everything about her was genuine, sincere, all bared in her wide, blue eyes.

  “I know ye’re unhappy, Sina,” she told her. “Ye have every reason to be angry and unsure. We will do everything we can to help make this easier fer ye. But this is yer fate, daughter. By the queen’s decree and yer father’s consent. Nothing can be done. I’m sorry.”

  “As am I,” Sina sighed mournfully, then rose from her seat. “If you will excuse me, I could use some air.”

  She didn’t wait for any consent but left the table. When she moved toward the entrance, Goliath perked up his ears. It was enough to cause her to squeak and hold her hands to her throat.

  She looked back at the faces watching her, then straightened her dainty shoulders and took a step toward the dogs.

  Knowing she was terrified of his canine friend, Adam wanted to smile at her courage but kept his warning gaze on Goliath as Sina tiptoed around him.

  She disappeared beyond the doors with Adam looking after her. He should go to her. There were likely to be more dogs outside by now—and more of his savage kin milling about.

  With a heavy sigh and a dark scowl, he rose, grabbed a handful of figs, and followed her out.

  So, he thought with disgust, this was what his life was going to be like from now on—always having to tend to someone else’s feelings. He hated it already.

  He pulled a plaid from a hook by the doors and left the castle with Goliath at his heel.

  There was no moat, bailey, or wall around the castle his grandfather had built long ago, save the wall of mountain behind it. Everything was spread out before him. Houses great and small were scattered throughout the vale, with most of the larger manor houses belonging to his uncles and their families.

  He greeted many of them as they set about their tasks for the morning.

  Chickens pecked at the ground around his boots. Sheep and cattle grazed on the heather-lined hills beyond. The sound of the rushing waves danced across his ears. He looked out at Trina and Alex’s ship docked in the bay. Camlochlin’s children always returned. He smiled, wondering what his new wife would think about having pirates in the family.

  His eyes found her trudging her way up to the crest of the vale, toward the cliffs. She didn’t know where she was going. Was she going to try to escape? Or jump?

  He spotted his uncle Tristan leaving his house with Ettarre, his loyal hound.

  “Did the night bring any knife wounds?” his uncle called out as Ettarre raced to greet her brother.

  “If it had, I would have let myself bleed to death,” Adam called back, hurrying by him.

  Aye, bleeding out on the floor of his chambers would be better than chasing down a stubborn, defiant lass with no other option than to surrender to her fate. As he must.

  He ground his jaw and let his long legs bring him swiftly up the hill.

  He watched her reach the crest and look toward Elgol while the wind beat against her.

  She looked so slight that he feared the wind might carry her away, closer to the cliffs. He came up behind her and rested his hand on her wrist. “Ye wouldna make it across alive, lass.”

  He thought she would pull away. She didn’t.

  “’Tis beautiful in a terrifyingly lonely sort of way.”

  He didn’t like the way her words pierced him. He didn’t want her to see Camlochlin as lonely—or him as a savage. She wouldn’t be lonely here, whether or not she ever claimed back her heart from Lord Standish in England. She wouldn’t be lonely with his kin.

  He nodded and handed her the plaid, then bit into a fig and bent his knees to sit in the grass. “Where did ye live before this?”

  “At the palace with the queen,” she replied numbly and let the plaid hang from her fingers. “I visited Kensington often as a child and finally resided there for the last two years as one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting.”

  “What do ladies-in-waitin’ do?”

  She glanced down at him with suspicious eyes and shook her head when he invited her to sit beside him. “We wait on the queen. I was one of her personal friends. Her companion. I thought I was important to her.”

  “And now ye think ye werena because she sent ye here?” He ate another fig and offered one to her.

  She accepted and finally sat down next to him. He tried not to think about how lovely she was so close. Her skin looked as soft as velvet. He was tempted to touch it.

  “What else am I to think?” she asked, setting her wide, wounded eyes on his. “I was traded away for your clan’s guaranteed protection.” She frowned as something occurred to her. “Just how do the MacGregors know the queen? Why does she protect your clan? Is it because of General Marlow? I know they were dear friends. Anne spoke of him often.”

  The queen hadn’t told her that Adam’s mother was the true firstborn daughter of James II. He breathed a sigh of relief. “Aye, their bond is strong.”

  He set his eyes toward the castle and all the houses nestled around it. “Ye could do worse.”

  “I suppose that’s true. But I hadn’t done worse. I was betrothed to a good man, a man I love.”

  He tossed his head back and groaned at the heavens. Truly, he didn’t want this. Why was he fighting it? He’d done what was asked of him and took her as his wife. That was enough. He had better things to do, and nothing ever stopped him from doing them before. Nothing would stop him now.

  She shivered beside him and wrestled with the tangled plaid in her lap.

  Muttering an oath, he sprang to his feet and took the wool from her inept fingers. He flapped it open in the wind and folded it like a shawl. “If ye’re foolish enough to try to cross the cliffs,” he told her while he covered her head and shoulders with the plaid and placed the edges in her hands between her breasts, “stay close to the wall, face to the stone, arse to the wind. Keep yer eyes open if ye can, and look fer crevices to hold on to. Weight on yer feet though, aye?” He patted her shoulders and stepped back. “If ye return, ye’re free to do as ye wish. This is yer home now.” He smiled and turned back for the hill. “I’m goin’ raidin’.”

  Chapter Four

  Ye dinna eat meat, d’ye?”

  Sina turned and took a startled step back at the small, slightly hunched-over old woman who suddenly appeared at her side behind an old barn. Her hair was gray and swirled into a braided bun at her nape. She looked up at Sina with narrowed eyes.

  “Well?”

  What kind of question was that? Why wasn’t she asking Sina what she was doing hiding behind the barn? Was this the village madwoman? A witch hunkering down, breathing out odd questions that mixed with the howling wind?

  “What kind of meat?” Sina asked, afraid of the answer. Just how savage were Highlanders?

  “What does that matter?” the old woman demanded, stepping around to face her. Her tanned face was weathered with age and distinction. She was still quite pretty, with a small nose and a fierce spark in her large blue eyes. “Meat is meat!”

  “Not if ’tis…” Oh, it was too unbearable to think about, but who knew what these people were capable of in winter months when food was low? William had told her once about some people eating— “Human meat.”

  The woman gasped and snatched Sina’s arm. “Do yer people eat human meat?” she asked, horrified.

  “No!” Sina quickly told her. “Do yo
urs?”

  “Nae!” The woman slapped Sina’s hand away, though she was the one who’d grabbed it in the first place. “Of course we dinna. We’re no’ altogether savage.”

  “Altogether?” Sina’s heart pounded in her ears.

  “Well,” the woman confessed, bristling in her plaid shawl. “The folks here do eat animals.”

  “Oh.” Sina breathed a little sigh of relief and set her gaze back on the group of mounted men…and a few women, preparing to leave to go steal someone else’s cattle.

  From her hiding place, where she had been watching Adam MacGregor without his knowledge, her eyes found him again. He wasn’t difficult to miss among the riders. He sat tall in the saddle, controlling his great black steed with the same command he held over his shadowy hellhound beside him. To keep his obsidian locks out of his eyes, he’d tied them back from his forehead and let the rest fall freely to his shoulders. He looked dangerous—masculine and barbaric with his long sword dangling from his hip. Beneath his dark brows, his eyes, the same color as the clouds, found and settled on her.

  His full, bow-shaped mouth may have curled up at the corners. She couldn’t be sure.

  “Is he treatin’ ye kindly?”

  Sina had forgotten the woman was still there with her. She’d been caught watching him, admiring him. She wouldn’t back down now.

  “He hasn’t been unkind,” she replied truthfully. “Save for when he gave me instructions on how to get across the cliffs.” She looked toward him again as he rode off with the others. “I don’t think he cared at all if I stayed or left.”

  “If ye want him to care, then give him something to care aboot.”

  “I don’t want him to care,” Sina was quick to assure her. What good would it do once she was back home? But there was a part of her that doubted anyone would come and she would live out the rest of her days here. What if she did? Could Adam come to care for her, then? Could she care for him?