Her Reluctant Highlander Husband (Clan MacKinlay)

by Hanson, Allison B.

  Her older cousin, Desmond, and Rory were at her brother’s side in a second with their own daggers drawn.

  She swallowed and opened her mouth to say something, but before she had the chance the MacKinlay laird shouted that everyone was to put their weapons away.

  Her groom was the first to follow the order, slipping his knife in the sheath and putting up both hands in a non-threatening way.

  The other men backed away, glaring. “You better say your vows if you know what’s good for you. If we have to take ye back with us to Baehaven, you might not make the trip,” her brother whispered before stepping away.

  …

  Bryce didn’t hear what the McCurdy arse said to Dorie, but her already pale skin went a shade or two lighter, and fear clouded those clear blue eyes.

  He didn’t want a wife, but he couldn’t make this woman go back to her family. Not that they acted like family. These were her brother and cousins and they treated her like less than a worm. Even as mad as he was at Lach, he regarded his cousin with more respect than this.

  “There must be another way,” Bryce said. He looked around at the other people and spotted Cam and Mari, recalling the way they’d been wed by accident. “We can be handfasted.”

  “Handfasting still requires a verbal declaration of intent,” the unhelpful priest replied. It figured they would find the one priest in all the Highlands who was also fluent in the ways of the law.

  “Do you know what a promise is, lass?”

  Dorie nodded immediately, intelligence clear in her eyes.

  “Can ye do this when you want to promise something?” Using his index finger, he drew a cross over his heart.

  Another nod and she mimicked the motion.

  “Does that make her intent clear, Father?”

  The priest frowned and let out a huff before agreeing. “Aye. It will do.” He went on to murmur something about the bride having no shoes, but Bryce paid him no mind. Instead he took Dorie’s hand in his.

  “Go on then with the vows,” Bryce said, wanting it to be done.

  After dealing with the issue of his bride’s silence, things went rather quickly. In no time at all, the priest pronounced them wed. Bryce watched his new wife’s eyes go wide as Lach came forward with his dirk. He nicked Bryce’s skin first and then took her wrist.

  When she fought, Bryce reached out to place his hand on her shoulder. She steadied when he gave her a nod.

  For all she couldn’t speak, she definitely understood him. And he found he could understand her as well. Mayhap everything they needed to communicate in the short time they’d be together could be accomplished with their eyes.

  When her hand was open and seeping, Bryce placed his own to hers as their hands were bound. He said the words alone as she watched. When he gave her hand a squeeze, she tightened her grip in reply.

  “It’s done,” Lach said as he untied them. Bryce flexed his hand, feeling the sting from the binding ceremony.

  “Nay.” Wallace stepped forward. “The MacKinlays have weaseled out of the agreement too many times for me to leave without consummation. Once you’ve marked your sheets with her blood, I’ll take what’s owed and be on my way, our agreement secured.”

  Dorie’s eyes went wide at the mention of blood.

  “Don’t be skittish, girl. Go do your duty.” Her brother gave her a shove as Bryce held on to her hand.

  Skittish was the proper word. Bryce held on tighter to her hand in an effort to keep her from running off, but she panicked. One moment he was watching as her eyes darted in all directions, most likely looking for escape. The next, she had bitten his hand, causing him to let go.

  Once released, his wife tore out of the hall toward the bailey with her brother and cousin on her trail.

  “Christ almighty,” Bryce cursed, and followed behind them with blood seeping from both wounds.

  Dorie hadn’t made it far before Wallace gripped her hair and tugged her back to him. A sharp slap on her cheek would have knocked her down if he weren’t still holding her up by her hair.

  She whimpered as he yelled at her. “Where do you think you’re going, you stupid bitch? Get back in there and let him take you so I can be done with this place.”

  The lout raised his hand to strike her again. Bryce saw her wince in anticipation of a blow that didn’t come. Bryce grabbed the man’s arm and twisted it back, ready to break it if the arse gave him a reason to.

  “She’s my wife now. And I’ll thank you to not touch her again, or feel the wrath of my blade on your neck. Do ye ken?” Bryce’s words were deadly calm.

  The woman hadn’t been his wife for more than ten minutes and already he was being called on to protect her.

  “Aye. Just take her. I wish to leave before the stench of this place becomes permanent,” Wallace sneered.

  Wanting to get the man away from her, Bryce turned to lead the oaf back inside.

  “You can’t leave her. She’ll run,” her older cousin warned.

  “She’ll not run. Where will she go?” Bryce held out his hands.

  “She’s daft. She’ll run.”

  “You’ll wait here for me?” Bryce asked her.

  Dorie swallowed then nodded, swiping her finger over her heart in a promise.

  “Let’s go.” Bryce gave the man a shove back inside. Once he’d secured him with the rest of his likewise oafish kin, Bryce hurried to the kitchen to gather food and drink. Swiping a plaid from the hall, he went back to the bailey to find his new wife was gone. “Blast and damn.”

  …

  Dorie heard the puppy before she saw him. He was a matted mess of fur whining under an empty wagon.

  Moving slowly so not to frighten the animal, she reached under the wagon and scratched him on the head. A few moments later she had coaxed him out, and he crawled into her lap, licking her face and wagging his tail.

  It was then she heard a man curse and turned to see her new husband was standing where he’d left her. He was looking around unhappily.

  With a gasp, she ran across the courtyard to the place she’d promised to be. When she stood in front of him she cringed, bracing herself for his displeasure, but nothing happened.

  The snuffling at her leg caused her to open her eyes. She attempted to wave the dog away, but he wouldn’t go. Instead he thought she was playing a game and snagged a piece of her gown, ripping it.

  “It looks like you’ve made a new friend,” Bryce said drily.

  He reached for the dog, and she jumped in front of the animal, pushing him away so it wouldn’t be beaten. Once again she expected a punishment, but Bryce leaned around her to get to the dog. Picking him up, he scratched the dog affectionately behind the ears.

  When she summoned the courage to look at him, it was to see an amused smile on his face instead of the anger she expected.

  “Aren’t you a wee rascal?” her new husband said to the dog. “You need to be cleaned up, but you have a gentle spirit. Would you like him, Dorie?” he asked.

  Her eyes went wide and she nodded, though still wary it could be a trick.

  Two women who had been present at the wedding came out of the castle and headed in their direction. The taller redhead was the laird’s wife. While the women were different in coloring and stature, Dorie was sure they were related. It was there in their eyes.

  “Are you well, dear? Your brother is a beast,” the shorter blonde said in a cultured English accent as she rubbed her rounded belly. “Did he hurt you?”

  Dorie shook her head, but it was her husband who spoke. “I stopped him before he was able to cause any damage.”

  “He’s blustering about not leaving until he’s seen proof of the consummation,” Kenna said with a frown. “While I wouldn’t want ye to rush things, mayhap you can see to your duty so the bastard can leave my castle as quickly as possible.”

>   Dorie might have laughed for hearing the laird’s wife call her brother a bastard, but she was stuck on the first part. The consummation part, to be exact.

  In truth, she didn’t know what it entailed beyond what her mother had told her when she was a child. That a man lies with a woman and she has a baby. Surely that wasn’t all there was to it.

  “I planned to take her for a ride and have a bite to eat. Are you hungry?”

  Dorie nodded.

  “When we return, I’ll have the proof and they can be on their way.”

  He reached for her, and she stepped back. He didn’t move to grab her, and after a few seconds she realized he intended to take her hand. Allowing it, she let him lead her toward the stables.

  She turned to wave to the women as they went back inside. The dog followed Dorie into the dim stables. She loved the sweet smell of hay and the snuffling sounds the horses made.

  “Do you ride?” he asked.

  She shrugged. She’d ridden as a child, but she barely remembered that life.

  He helped her onto his horse and slid up behind her, his body pressed against hers. They headed for the gate and the dog followed along. Occasionally she would twist back to check.

  “He’ll not lose sight of you, lass,” Bryce assured. “He’s well smitten.”

  He said nothing else as they traveled. She didn’t mind the silence. It gave her time to enjoy the beauty that was the MacKinlay lands. The leaves were still green, though she could smell a hint of autumn in the air.

  She was certain the lands at Baehaven were just as lovely, but she’d rarely seen them. When they’d left to come to Dunardry for her wedding, it had been dark, so she hadn’t had the chance on her exit, either. It didn’t bother her much. Everything that had made it a home was long gone. As a child, she’d loved Baehaven Castle. But then her mother had been there to give it light and happiness. What little she’d seen of it since that time was dark and daunting.

  Bryce stopped by a stream and dismounted before helping her down. The dog came over as soon as she was on her feet. Her still bare feet. Fortunately it was warm. As best she could tell, it was probably early September. Being barefoot in the cool grass by the stream was a lovely experience.

  She smiled and spun in a circle while looking up at the trees above her. It felt wonderful to be free of her small, dark room. The warmth of the sunshine as they’d ridden had warmed her through.

  Bryce set out a blanket and settled on the edge of it. She was quick to join him so he wouldn’t be frustrated by her delay.

  “Under normal circumstances, we would get to know each other,” he said as he handed her a piece of bread and a hunk of cheese. “But I don’t see the point in it.”

  She thought maybe he meant that it would be one-sided since she didn’t talk. She almost opened her mouth to ask him a question, to prompt the discussion he was so quick to brush away, but she remained silent. He seemed nice enough, but she wasn’t certain of him yet.

  “The only thing ye really need to know is that I’ll not hurt you. I’ll give you a home and food. I’ll get you some bloody shoes. You’ll be provided for. As war chief, I earn decent pay. I have a cottage. It’s not overly fancy, but you’ll have what you need within reason. That’s what I can offer you.”

  He opened his mouth as if to say something else but tossed in a bite of food instead.

  “It’s a nice enough day,” he said, and she nodded.

  “I’m not a man of many words. It’s odd having to carry on the conversation by myself. I’m happy to have others do the talking. You’re probably tired of hearing me rambling.”

  She shook her head and reached out to touch him, so he’d know how much she enjoyed hearing his voice. He hissed in pain and drew his hand away. She looked down to see her teeth marks in his skin. Wincing, she tried to convey her regret and apology with her expression.

  “Don’t worry, lass. I’m not angry at you for defending yourself. Only a person with no hope left allows themselves to be mistreated without fighting back.”

  She was grateful he understood, but still wished she’d not lashed out and injured him. She knew him better now. Trusted him.

  “Have you always been mute?”

  She shook her head.

  “I’ve heard of people losing their ability to speak after a tragic event. Is that what happened?”

  She nodded slowly. Her words had gotten her mother killed. She’d vowed to herself never to be so reckless again. Staying silent ensured she wouldn’t say anything wrong. Not that many people had bothered to speak to her over the years…

  Bryce looked out over the stream as the pup came up to be petted.

  “Och. You need a bath, you wee beast.” He turned to her, still wincing. “Will ye help me clean him so he can come home with you?”

  A smile pulled up on her lips. It felt strange, having not done it for so long. Maybe it would be the first of many to come.

  Perhaps she could be happy here, with this man.

  Chapter Three

  When Bryce’s new wife smiled, she was beautiful. She was fairly pretty when not smiling, but he’d not noticed until the moment Dorie showed her pleasure at being able to keep her new four-legged friend.

  It didn’t matter if he found her lovely or not; nothing would come of it. He’d already had a lovely, beautiful wife and lost her. He would not allow himself to get close to another woman. Even one he was now wed to. There was only one woman whose memory he kept in his broken heart.

  Dorie wasn’t smiling as they packed mud on the flea-ridden mutt. Bryce wasn’t sure what kind of dog he was. Maybe a mixture of many kinds. His feet and ears were of a size. It made him look lanky and clumsy.

  “Shall we name him Rags?” he asked.

  Dorie was quick to shake her head. She pointed toward the castle and then to him. He didn’t understand. Apparently their ability to communicate had been short lived.

  Just then the dog shook the mud and water all over them, spattering them with filth. “Be still, you wee rascal,” he commanded and, amazingly, the dog obeyed. At least for the moment.

  Dorie grabbed his arm and nodded.

  “What is it, lass?” he asked, as if she could explain herself.

  In answer she pointed to his lips. Then tapped her own. For a moment he thought she was requesting he kiss her, but then she pointed to the dog.

  Hmm. Something he’d just said? “Wee rascal?” he repeated, thinking that must be what she meant.

  She nodded enthusiastically and pointed to the dog again. He finally understood, though how he did, he wasn’t sure.

  “You want to call the dog Rascal?”

  Another nod and another blasted smile that stirred something he’d thought had died years ago. He cleared his throat, trying to force down the lump that had formed there, then looked away from her.

  “Very well, Rascal he is. At least until he flings mud all over us again. Then he’ll be called the late Rascal.”

  At Dorie’s gasp, he tempered his words with a grin so she’d know he didn’t mean the dog any real harm. As if on cue, Rascal shook, spraying them again with mud and water. Bryce let out a curse and looked up at Dorie when she laughed.

  She pointed at his face, no doubt spattered with mud, and laughed again. The sound made him smile, something he’d not done in so long it felt tight and unnatural on his lips.

  When she covered her mouth to hide her laughter, she smeared mud across her face, which had him laughing and pointing at her. She splashed him with water, probably to clean the mud from his face. He splashed her back, his only intention to get her wet and make her squeal in protest.

  She was quick to oblige and used both hands to throw water at him.

  Before long they were both soaked, water dripping from the ends of her hair.

  He’d been having fun, and when he realized
it, the smile slid from his lips. His temporary giddiness faded back into solemnity. Nodding toward the blanket in the sun, he let out a breath.

  “Enough. Let’s dry off. We’ll need to get back soon.” She gave a nod and he was sad to see the smile die from her face. Like the sun setting on a perfect day you didn’t want to end.

  He’d had many perfect days in his life, but the sun had set, never to rise again.

  …

  When Rascal was bathed and they’d dried from the ordeal, Bryce looked up at the sky and let out a sigh. Dorie knew what he was going to say next and wished she could keep him from voicing their need to return. Here in their quiet piece of the world, it was easy to pretend things would be fine.

  Bryce’s smile had faded and he was the serious man she’d married, but she trusted him already. Seeing the kindness he’d shown an animal told her the type of man he was. She was safe with him. She couldn’t be sure of the rest of the MacKinlays waiting back at the castle.

  “It’s time we get home,” he said, sealing her fate.

  She stiffened, knowing what awaited them. The McCurdys wouldn’t leave until the marriage was consummated with her blood. It was clear by the frown on her husband’s face that it wouldn’t be as fun as bathing the dog.

  “I feel like maybe we’ve made some ground between us. I hope you can trust me. What I have to do now will not be pleasant, but it must be done.”

  She remembered her brother’s words. Bloodying his sheets. She had no idea what he’d meant by that, but it sounded painful. She stood, ready to run if needed.

  “I’ll not hurt you. You have my word.”

  She settled, even when he pulled his dirk. He lifted his kilt enough to reveal a muscled thigh. He drew his blade across the flesh and hissed as blood welled along the line of the cut.

  She gasped and stepped closer to stop him, but he’d already wiped the blade clean and sheathed it. Using a wet cloth, he smeared the blood around and wiped it on the blanket.

  He looked at her. “Forgive me, but I need to mark you with blood. Your devil of a brother will probably check.”