Bound to the Highlander (The Highland Chiefs Series)

by Robbins, Kate

  Aileana’s breath hissed through her teeth. James MacIntosh? Her head throbbed as she absorbed the enormity of her uncle’s wishes.

  Uncle Iain wanted a union between her clan and those who backed the Stewart king and would encourage others to follow. How could he do this to her? She never imagined he would marry her to anyone but Gawain, and never considered he would contemplate a permanent link between the Chattans and another clan. And on whom did he settle? The most arrogant, insufferable, womanizer this side of the green. She had no time for him or his traitorous clan.

  Aileana re-read the letter again. There must be some mistake. Uncle would not force her to marry the chief of that clan.

  The MacIntosh had visited the estate over the years, since his lands bordered her uncle’s. During those times she would observe, with mortification, the castle’s female servants bending over backwards to gain even one brief glance from him. Well, she was not some gushing maid about to throw herself at his feet.

  “Lady Aileana?”

  She had not seen him in about three years.

  “It is my pleasure to reacquaint with you after so long.” His deep voice interrupted her inner rant. “I believe you’ve blossomed since our last meeting. I mean, it has been quite some time since we last met.”

  Her guts lurched as realization dawned. Her eyes snapped up to lock with his. When they’d met on the road, he was coming here. May a hole open up and swallow her now. She’d acted like a smitten kitchen maid. She dropped her chin to her chest, fighting the burning sensation behind her eyes. She would not cry in front of him, no matter how embarrassed.

  “I believe the letter you’re holding contains business we must discuss concerning your uncle’s wishes. I knew him well. He was an honourable man and I respected him. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  She tilted her head to look up at him. He appeared sincere. She should be gracious and thank the MacIntosh for his kindness toward her uncle, however, no words would come. How could the man expect her to forget what happened with her father? And who was responsible?

  “Lady Aileana, are you unwell? Shall I fetch a maid?”

  This was absurd. She wasn’t a child unable to control her emotions. Speak!

  “I am well, my lord, thank you,” she said, straightening her back.

  “I understand this is a shock. The reason for my visit today was to speak with you in private on the subject to avoid any discomfort which could be viewed by the servants.” His expression darkened. “I am aware this arrangement was not shared with you until now.”

  She had not recognized him earlier, no doubt because she had never given him much attention in the past. So annoyed was she by everyone else’s reaction to him, she always avoided him. Now for the first time, she saw him.

  Strong jaw, straight nose, firm lips and those damned eyes. Aye, the maids were right, he was handsome. Maybe too handsome, and she had no idea how to handle him or this confounding letter.

  Nothing made any sense. Uncle had always treated everyone from the grandest lord to the lowliest servant with respect and honour. He must have felt a powerful connection to this man to entrust him with his estate—and her!

  Gawain. He expected to inherit the estate. What would he think?

  Aileana cleared her throat. “Lord MacIntosh, I appreciate your consideration. Your thoughtfulness does you great justice, to be sure. I believe before we proceed further you must know another expects to gain these lands and my hand.”

  Aileana watched the muscle in his jaw flex.

  “Please allow me to explain,” she said. “My cousin Gawain is entitled to this estate since Uncle’s passing and, in truth, when I entered this room earlier expected him seated where you were. Just as I assumed he was next in line, I am certain he does as well.”

  “You are sure of this?” He leaned towards her. Too close.

  She couldn’t think straight.

  “I—I mean, who else knew of yours and Uncle’s arrangement?” How long had it been in place? Why had no one told her?

  “My brother Calum, your steward, and your priest knew of this agreement. If what you say is true, and while it is unfortunate, your uncle changed his mind at some point.”

  She gasped. He presumed to know her uncle’s mind? How dare he?

  “I will speak to your cousin,” he said.

  “No need, my lord. He’s my cousin and I will speak for my uncle’s wishes.” Her retort was a little harsher than intended, but no one would speak for Iain Chattan except her.

  “Very well then. How do you wish to proceed?”

  She didn’t know that or anything anymore. Still, he needed an answer.

  “We will receive you three days hence. I expect that will provide me with enough time to speak with Gawain and prepare.” Her mouth seemed separated from her mind.

  “For the betrothal ceremony?” His jaw slacked. Wasn’t that why he was here?

  “It shall occur at the same time,” Aileana said. Regret stabbed her as soon as the words were past her lips.

  “In three days then.”

  She raised her hand to him on instinct when he stood. He held her fingers and placed a warm kiss on the back of her hand sparking tiny sensations up her arm. A moment later he was gone.

  Someone, two people in fact, had a lot of explaining to do. But what if others knew as well. Gwen? That might explain her odd behaviour earlier. Gawain? That could explain his avoidance. Did everyone in the castle know about this except her?

  She’d probe them soon enough. For now, she had to wrap her head around the letter. Her uncle must have left an accompanying one just for her explaining his request. She placed the letter on the desk and rummaged through it. An hour later, her hands were as empty as when she started.

  * * *

  James threw Arion’s leather reins at the stable hand and strode toward Moy Hall, muttering curses all the way. When in hell had a woman ever gotten under his skin like that? He knew when, but at least then he could blame youth and inexperience. Now, he had no excuse.

  James was about to become attached in a very permanent way. He must be out of his wits to allow the situation to get this far. To say he had been surprised by her beauty was a gross understatement. Calum said she’d blossomed and he wasn’t mistaken. Far from it. Long flowing golden curls framed her flawless face offset by deep blue eyes and a pouty little mouth he wanted to taste. From his first vision of her, seated on the ground with dozens of wildflowers scattered about, he wanted her. He didn’t want to help her up, rather join her there and taste her sweetness.

  Standing above her, he was drawn to the deep cleavage her square neckline revealed. His loins had tightened at the sight. Oh aye, he would have taken her right there on the roadside had she not walked away from him. Had she actually dismissed him? He was unused to that kind of reaction from anyone, much less a woman. Woman or no, he was in it deep enough now and he had no idea what to do about her.

  Chapter Four

  Aileana drew in a deep breath and returned to the great hall to reason out this latest troubling development. What logical motive could her uncle have for this union? Money? Power? True, the MacIntosh was far wealthier than she, not to mention the most influential nobleman in the shire. Still, it was unlike her uncle to put much weight on such things regarding her happiness. Did he lack faith in Gawain’s ability to manage the estate and protect their tenants? If so, it made little sense. Her more immediate concern was how she’d break this news to him.

  “Gaw—Sir Gawain awaits you in the solar, my lady,” Gwen said from just inside the hall. Aileana hadn’t even heard her enter. Was there caution in Gwen’s tone? Or perhaps it was her own trepidation causing cold tentacles of dread to creep up her spine. As she approached the solar, she braced herself for the difficult task of explaining the latest development. She scarce understood it herself.

  As she reached for the latch, Gawain swung the door wide. He held a letter in his hand and his whole body seethed. His lips were drawn bac
k revealing uneven teeth and he sneered like a wild cat about to strike. Her throat dried.

  She had left the letter on her uncle’s desk. Cheeks burning from her mistake, she opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat.

  “What is this?” Gawain asked.

  Aileana straightened her shoulders. What was done was done. “’Tis a document the MacIntosh delivered earlier today. Gawain—”

  He stepped towards her so she had to tilt her head up to look into his stormy gray eyes flashing lightning at her.

  “How long did you wait after my cousin died to whore yourself to a rich man?”

  Her stomach dropped. “What? Gawain. Please. It’s not like that.” How could he think she’d arranged this?

  “Then tell me how it is. I’m surprised you’d cast me aside with so little regard. All this time, you waited to find an opportunity to be rid of me.” His fists were clenched at his sides and his jaw was rigid. “All your pleasant greetings and your fake smiles. You’re quite the little player, aren’t you?”

  Her breath came out in short pants while she wrung her hands. She has so little family left and she couldn’t bear his anger when she was not to blame.

  “Gawain, please let me explain.”

  “Enough. Your words are like poison.” He emphasized the word by spitting on the hem of her gown. “I hope you rot in hell choking on MacIntosh banners, you spoiled, deceitful little whore!”

  She gasped.

  His hate-filled eyes scanned her with a look of pure and unmistakable disgust before shoving the letter at her. He then stormed away from her uncle’s solar leaving her with an unspoken apology.

  Her blood ran cold. She slipped into the solar and secured the letter inside a hidden compartment in the desk. She had forgotten to put it away earlier and Gawain must think her insensitive enough to leave it lying about on purpose. A cowardice act indeed if it had been true. Her eyes burned. This was far from how she envisioned breaking the news to him.

  She should run after him and apologize for his discovery. She should tell him her uncle’s intent was as much a surprise to her as it was to him. If he would only listen, she could salvage some kind of relationship with Gawain. He was family after all. Wouldn’t he commiserate with her? She closed her eyes, spilling tears onto her cheeks.

  “M’lady, a visitor,” Colleen said. The maid stood in the doorway, face flushed and wearing a silly grin.

  From behind her, the MacIntosh stepped into view. The maid peeped up at him then disappeared around the corner.

  For a few heartbeats they stared at one another. She was distraught over what had just happened with Gawain and in no mood to exchange pleasantries with anyone—he of all people.

  “My lord, is there something you require?”

  “Who was the man I saw leaving just now?” His voice was deep; his words slow and deliberate.

  “That was Gawain Chattan,” she said, unable to stop a traitorous tear from spilling.

  He frowned. She had neither the strength nor the desire to pretend interest in what could be bothering him. Couldn’t he give her a moment to process?

  “My lord, to what do I owe the pleasure of this second visit today? May I offer you a seat or refreshments?” Her patience wore thin, yet he kept on staring at her. Her insides might soon scatter in all direction if he didn’t soon do something.

  “There is nothing I require, Lady Aileana,” he said. “Good day to you.”

  In the next instant, he too was gone, leaving her alone and too confused to see straight. Why would the MacIntosh return so soon after their previous meeting and then leave with such haste? She now didn’t have time to catch up with Gawain to offer an explanation. Frustration grew inside her like a pestilence.

  She paced the room to steady her inner turmoil and formed two conclusions. First, there was nothing she could do about Gawain tonight. Tomorrow, she would track him down and explain everything. She knew he was an early riser, and so was she. She’d await him outside his chamber if that’s what it took and make him listen to her explanation. Second, she would receive the MacIntosh in three days and she must prepare everyone. She could do neither if she did not pull herself together.

  How in heaven’s name had this impossible turn of events come about?

  She returned to the hall to find supper waiting. She picked at the warm bread and rabbit stew, but could not force herself to eat a morsel. Instead, she pushed the trencher away and sought refuge in her room to sort through the day’s events. One hand on her hip, she raised the other to her mouth and paced. Aileana longed for her uncle’s counsel.

  She stopped at the staircase leading to the tower. No one else ever used it so she could enjoy some much needed peace and quiet up there. As she contemplated the climb, she heard Gwen humming.

  The chamber was large enough for her wooden tub to remain in an inner dressing room. This pleased her since she had often felt a twinge of pity for the men who had to carry her uncle’s tub to and from his room. Gwen was there waiting with a bath drawn and a fire crackling. Aileana eyed the steaming rose scented water. Bath first, maybe then a climb to the tower.

  “Did you have a nice walk this morning?” Gwen asked.

  Heat rose to her cheeks as Gwen helped remove her clothing. “Yes, I did thank you, a very refreshing one at that.”

  Aileana had forgotten the walk with everything else which had happened since. She offered nothing else and hoped the subject would be dropped. Aileana slipped as she stepped over the tub’s edge and stumbled into it. Just thinking of the MacIntosh made her fluttery.

  “My dear Lady,” Gwen said, smiling. “I believe you returned from your walk more disturbed than refreshed. Did something happen?”

  “Of course not. I walked and I returned.” Why was Gwen concerned about her walk more than her meeting with Gawain?

  “You walked and you returned.” Gwen raised a single brow and crossed her arms. “Did you meet anyone on your walk?”

  Aileana blinked at her. Was the woman a seer as well as a healer? “I have nothing interesting to report on that count.”

  “No chance encounter?”

  “Chance encounter? Gwen, what makes you think that?”

  “You were blushing when you returned. I don’t think it was from over-exertion, at least not from walking.”

  Aileana gasped. Gwen thought she had a tryst with someone? How could she make such a leap? As a lady, Aileana was expected to bring all aspects of virginity to the marriage bed. Gwen, on the other hand, often boasted her experience would be welcomed by her future husband and thus had a fine list of conquests herself. Did the woman think of nothing else?

  “You’re mistaken, I have nothing of the sort to share with you,” Aileana said. She was still coming to grips with her first encounter with the MacIntosh and had other, more pressing, matters requiring her attention than his damned looks and how she’d reacted to him.

  “Do tell, who was he? The blacksmith’s son? Oooh, he’s ripe that one.” Gwen grinned from ear to ear.

  “It is you who enjoys such affairs, not I,” Aileana said, the corner of her mouth pulling a little.

  “Oh wait, I know, the new ferrier in the stable! I hear he’s very good with his hands and I don’t mean for shoeing horses either. No wonder you were flushed when you returned. Tell me, did he show you the new stallion?”

  Aileana gasped again. “You’re incorrigible! I did not have an encounter with any boy!”

  She picked up her washcloth and lathered soap onto it with vigor as she glanced at Gwen from the corner of her eye. Gwen’s eyes showed all the signs of teasing. Aileana sighed and faced her.

  “Well, if you must know, I did meet someone on my walk this morning. It was the MacIntosh. He caught me off guard and I almost fell. I didn’t know it was him until he arrived later with Uncle Iain’s letter. He was on his way to stake his claim for Uncle’s assets.”

  Gwen gasped. “He was coming here to do what?”

  “Aye, I
’m to be paired with the MacIntosh, Gwen. Don’t ask me for any details because at this point I don’t wish to discuss it.”

  Her eyes lit as though this was the best news she’d ever heard. “This is surprising, but that doesn’t explain why you were flushed when you returned earlier.” Gwen’s smile stretched across her face.

  Aileana didn’t reply. She held her breath as Gwen searched her expression. The woman was far too calculating and far too pleased at the moment.

  Gwen raised her eyebrows. “He’s very handsome, isn’t he?” Her hazel eyes sparkled with mischief.

  “I have to admit, his looks escaped my notice. He was very proper and quite gentlemanlike in his address considering the delicate nature of our encounter.” Aileana lied. As she spoke, she rubbed her arms.

  “And you didn’t happen to notice his eyes? His lips? Those powerful legs of his?”

  With each question, Aileana blushed deeper and said nothing. She slipped further into the tub and continued to wash herself. Gwen didn’t ask any more questions, but maintained a hint of her previous grin.

  She tried to relax in the luxurious water, but just couldn’t remain still. Her skin tingled everywhere she touched it, so she washed, rinsed then stepped out of the tub to be wrapped into linen sheets and guided to the fire to dry. Gwen beckoned two maids who removed all the bathwater, threw it out the window and wiped the tub down. They helped Aileana into her linen night shift and left the room.

  Gwen brushed Aileana’s hair until it was almost dry. The effect was soothing and eased some of her tension.

  When she was finished, Gwen paused at the door. “I wish you pleasant dreams tonight, my lady. You deserve them.” With that, she smiled and closed the door behind her.

  A climb to the tower required energy she didn’t have. Aileana crawled beneath the thick layers of quilts on her bed, curled on her side, and awaited sleep; but it would not come. Instead, she considered the ceremony that would take place three days hence.

  A great number of visitors would arrive once the celebrations began. Every nobleman and his Lady within a day’s ride, not to mention their tenants, would grace the doors of Chattan Castle and the feasting would continue for three days. That was the tradition. Some would be dear old friends she’d be very happy to see, but most would be curiosity seekers wanting to see how she and the great Laird MacIntosh appear together.