by Wine, Mary
“Ye can have a mistress of yer choice.”
He shook his head. “No’ if I wish to keep me word. The wedding vows require faithfulness of both husband and wife.”
“They do,” she said slowly. “Although I’m surprised to see ye noting it.”
“It is nae the first time ye have noticed that I have no liking to play a villain.”
It was an admission. And there was no missing the seriousness in his tone. The sound struck something inside her. Something deep down where there was no arguing about any reasons. There was simply right and wrong.
“Ye are no’ a villain,” she whispered. Her words were like a fragile bubble floating through the air between them. While it held, everything she saw through it was magical.
“I am not,” Buchanan confirmed as he stepped closer. “And if I send ye home, Rolfe Munro will be back to try his hand at securing ye. I came up here tonight to see if ye want to make a choice between us…for yerself.”
It was a challenge.
One which heated her blood even more. Buchanan was the most surprising of creatures, for she’d never heard of a man who was willing to be faithful. His men surely wouldn’t fault him. But she would be expected to mind her tongue and suffer his husbandly needs without complaint.
With a quick tug to her arm, she fell against him.
“Buchanan.”
He clamped her against his body. “Shh. I have promised I will no act the villain. But I will no’ allow ye to go without a true test, lass. We will see if this union might be a good one.”
He was behind her now, his body hard and oddly pleasant to be held against.
Why had she never noticed how delightful it was to be embraced? His breath teased the top of her head, sending ripples of awareness across her skin. Beneath her clothing, gooseflesh rose up. She shifted, and he held her securely. Every little breath drew his scent into her head.
The result was intoxicating.
Her thoughts were scattering as the need for intimacy became undeniable. His chest rumbled with appreciation to the way her body reacted to his.
“Would ye ignore that, lass?” he asked. A moment later, he was turning her so he could lock gazes with her.
Her breath caught as she witnessed the look of longing in his eyes.
“Kiss me, Rhedyn.”
His tone was firm. He cupped the back of her head and pressed his mouth over hers to seal the demand. It was a kiss full of promise and intention.
But it didn’t hurt.
She suddenly couldn’t get close enough to him. She reached for him, stroking him as she mimicked the motions of his mouth. Their clothing frustrated her, separating her from what she craved. She slipped her hand into the open collar of his shirt, delighting at the sound which came from him.
A groan of pleasure.
He repaid her in kind. Stroking her nape below the collar of her dressing robe. She arched, muttering with enjoyment before he suddenly cupped her shoulders and set her away from him.
“What?” she questioned, feeling as though he’d been ripped from her arms.
“If we’re going,” he said, “now is the time to leave.”
She bit her lip. Everything she’d been raised to believe conflicted with what she felt.
“Ye must make a choice Rhedyn,” he persisted. “I’ll not have this matter between us.”
He’d take her home.
She witnessed the flash of determination in his eyes.
Marry him?
Christ, she’d never been so tempted to do something in her life!
And she suddenly held the choice in her own hands. A gift from a man who she’d be wise not to toss aside. Was it so simple?
Actually, Rhedyn decided that it was.
“Good night, Buchanan,” she said before she turned and headed back toward the bed. She looked back at him over her shoulder. “I will see ye in the morning.”
Chapter Five
Rhedyn didn’t fall asleep until late.
Which meant she was jerked awake by someone pounding on the door of the chamber. Enclosed in the bed with its heavy curtains, the daylight had failed to wake her.
“Morning to ye, mistress,” Shona declared with joy. There was the patter of steps on the wood floor as others entered the chamber along with her.
Someone took hold of the bed curtains and pulled them back. Rhedyn blinked, her eyes shocked by the bright light of midmorning.
“Since it’s yer wedding day, I thought it best to allow ye to sleep late,” Shona said.
The maids exchanged smirks. One of them sent Rhedyn a wink along with a look that made it plain the girl thought Rhedyn was a lucky girl to be getting the right to share a bed with Buchanan.
Rhedyn felt her belly knot. But there was also a flicker of heat at the top of her sex. It was by far the most carnal feeling she’d ever experienced.
“Up with ye, mistress!” Shona didn’t grant Rhedyn any time to ponder her thoughts.
Today, the tub was brought up the stairs to the chamber for her bath. Rhedyn attempted to protest, but there was little point, because there was a line of boys hauling water right behind the two men who sat the tub down.
Shona watched it all with a practiced eye. The maids knew their places as well. Rhedyn found herself stripped and washed in no time at all. And then, she was pulled from the tub so her hair might begin drying.
There was a skidding sound as the tub was pushed to the far side of the room. Shona nodded approvingly before she looked toward the maids.
“Wait at the bottom of the stairs,” Shona instructed them firmly.
The women looked at one another before Shona snapped her fingers, and they all dropped Rhedyn a curtsy before hurrying from the room.
“I brewed this for ye this morning,” Shona explained. “It will keep yer belly flat for as long as ye drink it every day without fail. The matter will remain between us.”
Such concoctions were whispered about, but they could so easily be connected with charges of witchery.
“I would not see ye trapped in a union with me brother, if ye truly cannot be content,” Shona continued.
“Yer brother?” Rhedyn gasped.
“Aye.” Shona lifted the cup higher. “Me mother learned to make this brew after discovering how difficult it would be to have her children branded with the stain of her choice to love a married man. Even if that man’s wife was happy to see her husband in anyone’s bed but her own.”
It was a common enough arrangement.
But being in control of when she conceived, well, there was an idea Rhedyn hadn’t ever thought of before. She reached for the cup, even before she realized her intention to do so.
“’Tis bitter,” Shona warned.
“So is a marriage without affection.” Rhedyn hesitated. “Barren is a harsh word. Buchanan could send me back to my father in disgrace.”
Shona let out a little huff. “Since he stole ye, yer father could call him a liar and pay off the midwife to testify ye are still a maiden before yer next wedding.”
“Ye would allow yer brother to be spoken of in such a way?” Rhedyn asked.
“Me brother stole ye,” Shona replied. “He has already ensured that the Lindseys have naught good to say about him.”
Shona pointed at the cup. “Escaping this castle will not grant ye freedom from getting married. That brew, though, will make it so ye can leave if ye find the arrangement with me brother unbearable.”
Many brides didn’t get such a blessing. There was a glitter of hope in Shona’s eyes. The sight made Rhedyn grin, for hope was infectious. So was freedom, for she suddenly had the ability to follow her impulses without regret.
She would just need the courage to make her own decision.
Rhedyn lifted the cup to her lips and drank it. The bitterness was sweet on her tongue.
Buchanan would be disappointed when she didn’t conceive.
The thought was unexpected and undermining to everything she thought she w
as so very certain of.
Such as going home.
When had she started to embrace the idea of making the Mackenzie castle her home?
Buchanan wasn’t a villain…
It was more than a thought now. Rhedyn realized it was growing deep down inside her heart. Forming a growing sense of trust. A contracted groom would have been bound to treat her kindly but not be faithful. Hence, Buchanan offered her something personal.
Do ye want it, though?
Rhedyn looked around the room. A gown was laid out on the foot of the made bed. There was a wreath of new spring greens twisted with ribbons for her head. The only thing missing was her father’s approval.
‘Ye kissed me back…’
She had, and the memory of it made her cheeks heat. Her father wouldn’t be blind to the alliance the union with Buchanan would bring. She moved toward the dress, reaching out to touch the fabric.
“The dress was made for Cora to meet her betrothed in this season,” Shona supplied the details. “She has no’ even tried it on.”
Shona’s tone made it clear she felt Cora was being difficult over the matter of her contracted marriage.
“Cora has set her mind against her match,” Rhedyn said.
“She has, indeed,” Shona agreed. “What I wonder is, which way are ye thinking to set yer own mind?”
Rhedyn lifted her gaze off the dress and looked at Shona. “I’m thinking ye are by far the best companion to have at me side, for ye speak plainly.”
“No’ worried I am twisting the facts in an effort to beguile ye?” Shona lifted a pair of stockings up from where they’d been left on the side of the bed.
Rhedyn sat down on a stool so she could put them on. “My consent isn’t necessary. Buchanan could simply have me delivered to the church doors.”
She reached for one of the stockings and worked her thumbs down the inside of one, until she reached the toe.
“Ye’re right,” Shona agreed. “He does no’ need yer compliance, yet he asks for it.”
Rhedyn put her foot into the stocking and pulled it up her leg. She secured it just below her knee with a leather garter before moving onto the second one.
If Shona was curious as to what Rhedyn was thinking, she didn’t ask.
What are ye thinking?
To form it into words seemed impossible. The only solid thought Rhedyn held onto as she got dressed was the memory of Buchanan holding her the night before. It had left her thinking of him in the wee hours of the night when there was nothing to shield herself from the blunt honesty of just who she was.
She had kissed him back.
And she’d enjoyed his touch.
Both were considered sins and reasons to avoid one another. But what had her lifting her arms so Shona might put the first skirt over her head was the fact that Rolfe Munro’s kiss had left her cold.
Her father approved of Rolfe Munro.
But his kiss left her feeling nothing.
“Ye seem to have thought it through,” Shona observed.
Rhedyn looked at her. “It’s a matter of courage really. I’ve been raised to think of the alliance my wedding would bring to me clan. Well, this union will accomplish a fine one.”
“Ye might hide behind that reasoning,” Shona agreed.
“I could,” Rhedyn responded. “The truth is, being locked above the kitchen gave me a taste of true loneliness. Perhaps before I might have believed I could wed at my father’s direction and never given into the need to find the warmth me union lacked.”
“Ye do have courage,” Shona said.
“Because I’ve admitted to me lack of obedience?”
“Because ye have been honest,” Shona said. “The pair of us have been neatly born into our places. As a legitimate daughter, ye should have admonished me for bringing ye that brew.”
“And ye should have lectured me on not longing for carnal desires.”
Shona nodded.
“So, I am getting married.” Rhedyn smiled. “For at least if I am a wanton, I will have the blessing of the Church.”
“Such will make yer life much simpler.” Shona picked up the stays laying on the foot of the bed and held them up for Rhedyn to put her hands through.
Courage.
She discovered she liked the feeling of knowing she was making her own choice.
She liked it quite a bit.
Buchanan would just have to live with the fact that he’d encouraged her to make her own choice, for Rhedyn was certain it would not be her last one.
*
She might refuse him.
Buchanan was up at first light, doubts plaguing him.
Men do nae follow a laird who is nae bold.
His father had given him many lessons about the need for confidence. No one followed a man who didn’t keep his chin held high. But he couldn’t deny the fact that he wanted Rhedyn to choose him.
He pulled a cloth off a polished mirror. He couldn’t recall the last time he used it. Today, he carefully cut away his facial hair. Shaving was a vanity he didn’t often indulge in. There were far too many tasks needing his attention during the day to worry about something which grew naturally on his face.
But he wanted Rhedyn to like him.
There was a feeling deep in his chest that made him edgy. Whatever it was, he couldn’t recall feeling it before. He leaned over and peered closer in the mirror, turning his head to make sure he’d gotten every last whisker.
Would she be pleased?
He was finished before anyone came to get him. It afforded him time to contemplate just how likely it was that Rhedyn would refuse to wed him of her own free will.
His belly knotted in response to that idea.
He didn’t want to force her. Plenty of his own men would likely wonder what his problem was for even thinking such a thing.
Aye, that much was true. However, marriage was a business first when it came to the laird.
Rhedyn had been raised knowing men would come for her dowry and connection with her father. She was only a key to unlock those goods. Something to be used.
Would she appear at their wedding because she saw it as a duty? Or because Rolfe Munro’s kiss hadn’t moved her?
Buchanan wanted it to be because she saw him as more than her captor.
Well lad, ye’ll likely have to temper yer desire to bed her…
Buchanan grinned at his reflection in the mirror, turning side to side so he could see his face. Was he frightening?
Well, to a lass, perhaps.
Rhedyn’s head only came to his shoulder. He could close his fingers on one hand around her wrist. That sensation inside his chest intensified as he thought about the way he could hold her against his body and tuck her head beneath his chin. The reason he liked it mystified him.
Lust?
For certain, many of his men would use that word. And he’d be a liar if he didn’t admit his cock was hardening in reaction to his thoughts. But the feeling was more than simple lust. He wasn’t a lad who didn’t understand the difference. Whatever the sensations brewing inside him, it made him worry that Rhedyn wouldn’t walk to the Church doors with him. He wanted to see a shy smile on her face and feel her fingers clasping his as they crossed the yard.
Foolish?
Perhaps.
But even acknowledging it didn’t seem to be enough to stop the yearning growing within him. Would he have her anyway? There was no one to stop him and yet, a bitter taste filled his mouth as he realized that without a doubt, he wouldn’t force her to wed him.
But if she does appear, lad?
Buchanan was turning for the door as he felt his anticipation growing. Standing still was impossible because he had to know if she was going to accept him. His years of experience seemed to matter little as he stood there. It made him grin, for he’d stood by his friends’ sides as they waited for their brides and witnessed the way they’d tried to conceal their own doubts.
That was the thing he truly craved. He wanted to
be a groom. One whose bride chose him. Not for his position but for who he was.
She didn’t let ye take her home…
The look Rhedyn gave him the night before rose from his memory. He closed his eyes so he could give himself over to it completely.
“Good Night Buchanan.” She spoke clearly before she turned and headed toward the bed. She stopped and looked back at him. “I will see ye in the morning.”
Buchanan felt his confidence flare.
She’d promised.
And if he wanted her to trust him, he’d have to return the favor. So, he drew a deep breath and went to greet his bride.
She’d be there.
Because she’d chosen to stay.
Because she’d chosen him.
*
The Mackenzies had turned out in large numbers to see the wedding of their laird.
The yard was packed full, and a quick look up showed Rhedyn that there wasn’t a spare spot along the walls, either. Everywhere she looked, there were gazes upon her, waiting to see just what she’d do.
But Rhedyn wasn’t very interested in what others thought. She hesitated in the doorway of the north tower. The wreath of greens on her head smelled wet. Shona had brushed out her hair so that it hung in a curtain behind her. There was a ripple of approval from those waiting to get a peek at her when she appeared. It was a wedding day any girl would have dreamed of.
But her father wasn’t there.
She felt his loss deeply, but only for a moment before Buchanan stepped into view. It was her turn to let out a little sound of delight, for he’d cleaned up rather well.
He was a handsome brute. There was simply no denying it. With his chin smooth and his hair combed and washed, he was everything any bride could have wished for.
And he was looking to see if she was there.
Oh, it was only a brief moment. But she caught a glimpse of him searching for her. As he spied her, his expression relaxed, his lips curving into a grin which lit his eyes.
“Mistress?” he asked with his hand extended.
“Laird Mackenzie,” Rhedyn answered in kind with a small curtsy.
He closed his fingers around hers. She felt the connection deep inside. Something flickered in his eyes that made her think he felt the same. But there wasn’t really time to ponder her thoughts, for the assembled people all began to part, making a path toward the church.