His Highland Rose

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His Highland Rose Page 7

by Willa Blair


  Cat’s shoulders slumped, too. “So there’s no point in an arrangement with Brodie for Kenneth and me?”

  “Only if ye truly wish it, and not because ye thought ye were saving either of us from a marriage we dinna want.” Mary squeezed her hand. “Though ’twas noble of ye.”

  “But what can we do?” Cat asked. “Ye dinna want Iain, and…”

  “And I might have been wrong about not wanting him,” Annie interjected. Even before the fairy pool, she’d begun noticing things she liked in Iain Brodie. If she could steel herself to bear the disappointment in his eyes when he first made love to her and saw her scar, perhaps he could learn to ignore it and they could have a happy life together.

  “Ye did kiss him at the fairy pool,” Mary reminded her with the first smile Annie had seen on her lips all day.

  “So what do we do?” Cat asked again.

  “Father might listen to ye if ye approach him again,” Annie stiffened her spine and told Mary, “especially if ye tell him I will agree to the match.” Her heart began galloping, fear of Iain’s disappointment making her anxious and afraid.

  “And I willna,” Mary answered, by way of agreement. “Aye, ’tis worth another try. I must speak to him today, before he draws up a contract for Iain to take back to Brodie.”

  “I should come with ye,” Annie said.

  “I, too,” Cat interjected.

  “Nay, let me speak to Da alone first. If that doesna work, we’ll go together. And if that fails, we’ll try something else.”

  “What?” Annie asked. If the three of them could not convince him, what could?

  Mary lifted and eyebrow and smiled. “I have an idea.”

  Chapter 7

  When Iain entered the Rose’s solar, he thought James would hand him a marriage contract with Mary Elizabeth’s name on it, one he would refuse. He was surprised to find her there, too. She didn’t look pleased with her father, or with Iain’s interruption, judging by the frown she gave him as he stepped into the room.

  “I expected this to be a private meeting,” Iain blurted, then kicked himself. He had no say in whom James Rose included, and making demands, when both he and Mary already appeared aggravated, invited disaster.

  “My daughter was just leaving,” Rose growled.

  “I think no’,” Mary snapped. “Now Iain Brodie is here, I’ll say to his face what I’ve been saying to ye…”

  “Daughter…”

  “Do not force this match. I dinna wish to marry him. He and Annie have an understanding. If ye care anything at all for either of us, ye will honor it and leave me out of any arrangement with Brodie.”

  Iain cleared his throat, but Rose gave him no chance to speak.

  “Ye and yer sister will do as yer laird commands.”

  “Perhaps I can help,” Iain interjected then forced himself to stand his ground as two pairs of angry eyes swung in his direction.

  “Please do,” Mary pleaded.

  James bided his time, and Iain had the distinct impression he was being given enough rope to hang himself. But this negotiation was too important to Brodie to leave to a squabble between father and daughter.

  “Since I arrived here, I’ve spent a great deal of time with your middle daughter and have grown quite fond of her. I’ve told ye her qualities suit me and the kind of wife I wish to have as the future lady of Brodie.” He paused for breath, then resumed when neither of the Roses jumped in to refute what he’d said. “If I may speak for ye, Mary, I’ve been told ye received unhappy news while ye were in Inverness. I understand yer need for time to reconcile yerself to the loss before being given to any man, especially a man ye dinna ken. And that ye would prefer to meet…and like…any man ye consider for marriage. I feel the same. I love Annie.”

  He turned his gaze back to James and continued. “I ken I am presuming much, but I have heard from many here how ye depend on and respect Mary. She is not in favor of this match. Nor am I. Your daughters and I would appreciate your consideration in this matter.”

  James’s face turned red and his eyes narrowed as he regarded Iain. Then he glanced at Mary and his expression softened for a moment, then hardened again as he turned to Iain. “Ye do presume much, Brodie. I decide what is best for Clan Rose, and for my daughters.”

  Iain inclined his head, accepting the reality of his statement. “I do not mean to decide for ye, merely to ask for your further consideration of the matter. Brodie will make a formal offer. Ye may accept it or refuse, as ye see fit.”

  Mary dropped into the seat behind her but said nothing.

  Iain held his breath, hoping she remained silent. Another push and her father might begin to feel cornered rather than persuaded. Iain did not want to force James to refuse Mary’s entreaties, or his. Given the time for calm reflection, he must see how forcing Mary would only make her miserable, as well as hurting Annie.

  The Rose looked from Iain to Mary and back again.

  “I will consider your words…and Mary’s. I do not promise to change my decision,” he added.

  Mary gasped and clenched her hands together in her lap, gaze on her father.

  He held up a hand. “But I will think on what both of ye have said.”

  Iain bowed to him, then to Mary and left the room. He’d done all he could without tendering the offer James, if he didn’t change his mind, would refuse. If that happened, Iain would be forced to start over with another clan to win a bride. He would not accept Mary as his bride, not only because he couldn’t hurt Annie that way, but because she did not want the match.

  He was running out of time.

  * * *

  “How did he react?” Kenneth asked Iain as they sat before the fire in the great hall a few hours later, ales in hand.

  Iain shrugged. “At first, I feared he would refuse outright, but eventually, he agreed to consider my and Mary’s requests. He did not change his mind at that moment. And he might not.”

  “What will ye do if he refuses?”

  Iain’s heart clenched and an image of Annie, riding hard, hair flying in the wind, filled his mind with longing. “Leave here and hope I have time to begin again elsewhere.”

  Kenneth frowned. “What if Annie agreed to go with ye, without her father’s blessing?”

  Iain shook his head. “Brodie wants an alliance, not a war with Clan Rose.”

  “Her father will ken she made the choice to go.”

  “It willna matter. He must agree. Anything less and the alliance will fail.” Iain studied the ale in his cup, but found no answers there.

  “Then I suggest ye speak again to Annie,” Kenneth told him. “Mary has tried to talk Rose out of putting her forward. Maybe now he’s agreed to think on it, the time has come for Annie to persuade him.” He shrugged one shoulder. “If she can. Ye could give her more incentive.”

  Iain cut his gaze to his friend. “What does that mean?”

  Kenneth dropped his gaze. “Make sure she wants ye enough to do something drastic, even if ye dinna want her to.”

  “Seduce her, ye mean?” Iain tensed.

  “It has been done before,” Kenneth replied in a droll tone most unlike him.

  “Nay, no’ to Annie, and no’ under James’s own roof. Ye’d be taking my body back to Brodie.”

  Kenneth looked up. “Perhaps. But then I’d keep my best horse.”

  At that moment, Iain saw Annie cross the other end of the Great Hall, going toward the kitchen. “I’ll talk to her again, at least,” he announced, standing.

  Kenneth saluted him by raising his cup.

  Iain left his behind and followed Annie through the kitchen out into the walled garden.

  She hadn’t seen him yet. Iain picked a rose and came up behind her with enough noise to keep from startling her as he said her name. “Annie.”

  She turned and a smile lifted the corners of her lips as he proffered the rose. She took it, but her smile failed to reach her eyes.

  “I ken what yer father is trying to do—he’s
a good man.”

  Annie gasped. “So ye agree?”

  “Nay. Ye ken I want only ye.”

  “Iain…I’m no’ perfect.”

  “I dinna care. No one is. I certainly am no’. What I am…well…”

  It was time to give her his other gift. He pulled his sketchbook from inside his shirt.

  “What is that?” Annie leaned forward to peer at it.

  “Just a moment, and ye will see,” Iain said and turned away. He found the page he wanted and tugged it from the binding, then closed the book and put the sketch face down on top. He turned back to Annie and took a breath. “I have something for ye. Something I hope ye will like. And something I hope will show ye how much I’ve come to care for ye. No matter what happens.”

  Annie frowned at the things in his hand. “I dinna understand.”

  “Then let me show ye.” Iain turned the drawing over and held it up so Annie could see it. Her gasp made his heart leap.

  “Iain, I…that’s…”

  “Belle. Aye. ’Tis only a charcoal sketch, as near as I could recall her racing through the woods that day.”

  Annie tucked the rose behind her ear and reached for the drawing, her fingers trembling.

  Iain placed it in her hand. He felt like he was handing her his heart.

  Annie studied the drawing. “Her mane…her tail…she looks like she’s flying. She looks…free.” She lifted gleaming eyes to his.

  Iain found he could breathe again. Annie’s reaction was all he’d hoped for. “’Tis how I think of her. And of ye. Ye both have such a longing to be free. To be one with the wind and the sun. I tried to put that in her portrait.”

  “Oh, Iain,” Annie said and reached for him with her other hand. “When ye said ye wanted to draw the fairy glen…when ye wanted to draw me…I…I didna ken ye could do something like this…”

  He took her in his arms, pleased by the care she took to hold his drawing away from their bodies, keeping it safe.

  “I do like it. I…this means so much to me. I thought ye cared about me because of what ye stood to gain, but this…”

  “…is meant to show ye how much ye mean to me, Mary Anne Rose.”

  She studied Belle’s picture again. “Ye could not have done anything more perfect, Iain Brodie.”

  He plucked the rose from her hair and traced it down her cheek as he released her. “I yet hope for yer father’s blessing to marry ye, if marrying me is truly what ye want.”

  “And if ye dinna get it?”

  “I willna wed yer sister against her will. Or at all. I want ye. If yer father willna agree, I will leave, and ye will never see me again.”

  Annie’s hand flew to her mouth and covered a soft cry.

  Moved, Iain stepped forward and took her in his arms, tucking her head against his shoulder. She felt so good there, so right.

  “I must do as my laird bids,” she whispered. “And ye must do as yers orders ye to. Our wishes dinna matter.”

  “They do. Our wishes matter most of all.” He lifted her chin so he could see her eyes. “I love ye, Annie Rose. I want ye by my side.”

  “Ach, Iain!”

  The feel of her in his arms, the desire in her eyes, made him reckless. He didn’t care who might see them as he lowered his head and took her lips. She kissed him back as she had by the spring, with longing in every caress of her mouth on his. She might not be able to say she wanted to marry him, but she would fight for them. He was sure of it now. Belle had shown him the way into her heart.

  Elated, his heart filled with gratitude that he’d found this woman. Somehow, it would work out. Her kiss told him she wanted him as much as he wanted her. Clutching his shoulders, she held him as if she couldn’t bear to be parted from him. He pulled her more tightly against his body, pressing the evidence of his desire against her. He could never have imagined needing anyone so much. But he needed Annie. He plundered her mouth, and she welcomed his invasion, caressing his face as her tongue dueled with his. He nuzzled her finely curved ear and nibbled his way down her throat. She gasped and moaned his name. Pink, like the rose he’d given her, washed up her throat to her cheeks.

  “We will be together, lass,” he told her as he returned his kisses to her sweet lips. “Ye will be my wife, and I yer husband. And we will be as happy as it is possible to be.”

  Suddenly, she broke free of his arms. “’Tis a lovely dream,” she told him, glanced from the drawing in her hand back to his face, then ran into the kitchen, tears filming her eyes.

  * * *

  Mary pulled Annie into her room after supper and told her, “He fought for ye.”

  Annie’s heart fluttered in her chest, excitement and anxiety stirring her emotions all at once. “But it didna work.”

  “He came close. I think he made Da see the happiness of three people rest on his decision, two of them his daughters. And if Brodie leaves unhappy, the alliance he wants will be at risk. Iain didna force his back against a wall…”

  “Never a good idea with our father.”

  “He told him Brodie would tender an offer, and Rose could accept or reject it. I think he said just enough, then backed off so Da would not dig in his heels. I stayed and did my best to look pitiful and unhappy…”

  “Ye? Did he believe ye?”

  “Ye ken how he is when we cry. I showed him tears. But Iain did a masterful job of getting him to reconsider. I hope it worked.”

  Annie hugged her arms around her middle. “For something I thought when he first arrived that I wasna ready to do. I’m not sure, even now, I’m ready. But Iain…”

  “Iain is a good man. A better man than many ye would find. He’s had opportunities to ruin ye—even with our father’s blessing, it appears—and has no’ done so. He wants this marriage to be your choice.”

  “I ken it. But he willna want me when he sees…”

  Mary shook her head. “Nay, Annie. It willna matter.”

  “It will to him. He draws—better than I’d imagined. He looks for beauty in everything. I am flawed. Ye and Cat are no’.”

  “After the gift he gave ye, how can ye think that? He knew what would mean the most to ye, and he made it real. For ye. Yer scar willna matter to him.”

  “And if it does? My heart will break.”

  “Ye ken Iain must wed—and soon. Cat won’t suit, and not just because she has her eye on Kenneth. She’s too young for Iain. He needs a steadier lass at his side. He needs ye.”

  “Or ye.” Annie choked out the words. After what Iain had said, what he’d given her, how could she stand by and see him wed Mary?

  “It comes down to the two of us.” Mary took Annie’s hands in hers. “I willna stand in yer way, no matter what Father decides. I thought I’d found true love, and perhaps I did, but it didna work out. ’Tis yer turn to take a chance.”

  “I fear being hurt as ye were. As ye are.” Annie could feel unwelcome tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She blinked them away.

  “’Tis part of finding love. I hope this pain will make the pleasure of finding the right man all the better. Learn from me and fight for what ye want—what ye have—with Iain.”

  “If ye believe in him so strongly, ’tis a risk I’m willing to take. The three of us must confront father.”

  “Ye must believe in Iain, too, Annie. I think ye already do. Ye’re having trouble believing in yerself. But trust me, it will be well. In the morning, after Da’s had a chance to sleep on it, I’ll talk to him. If he is still reluctant, then the three of us together may be able to nudge him into doing the right thing. But we must do as Iain did, and exercise restraint. Though we have weapons Iain lacks.”

  Annie managed to chuckle. “Feminine wiles. Aye. Yet, if he’s still determined?”

  “Then we’ll cry. All of us. Catherine, too. Let him try to stand against us!”

  Later, Annie made her way down the dark hallway toward her chamber, deep in thought, considering Mary’s words. When she reached the door, a man stepped out of the
shadows. Iain!

  “I’ve waited for ye,” he told her. “I couldna leave letting ye believe I would stop fighting for us.”

  “Ye are leaving?” Nay! Nothing had been settled. She couldn’t let him go, not yet.

  “Tomorrow. Brodie will offer for ye, no’ for Mary, no matter what yer father decides.” He gripped her shoulders and gave her a slight shake. “If it means I lose ye, even if it means I am no’ married when my father dies and I lose Brodie, I want only ye, Mary Anne Rose.”

  Annie swallowed, humbled by the intensity of the vow Iain had just made to her. “Oh, Iain. Ye mustna give up yer clan.”

  “Can we talk in yer room, out of the hall?”

  Annie froze. Of course, they could. Iain had said he would not force her into marriage by ruining her—against her will. But what if she made it happen? Her father would have to agree if Iain took her tonight. She opened the door and led Iain in, not caring where this might lead or who might hear their voices through the heavy oak door.

  Iain closed it behind them and gathered her into his arms. Annie pulled his head down to hers and kissed him. “There’s something ye must see,” she said, pushing away from him and gathering the fabric of her skirt in her hands.

  Iain frowned. “What are ye doing, love?”

  She continued to pull the fabric up, little by little, knowing Iain’s gaze would rivet to the skin slowly revealed. “I didna tell ye everything about what happened when Belle pulled me from the river. I was swept along so quickly, my leg was…impaled…on a broken branch under the water. The cold slowed the bleeding, even after Belle pulled me off of it.” By now, the lower edge of the scar had to be visible. “Da had been called to Court. Mary and the healer took care of me. Cleaned the wound, kept me from developing a fever. The wound healed, but ’tis…ugly.” By now, she’d lifted the skirt high enough to reveal the whole of her thigh. The star-shaped scar, puckered and, still bright pink, marred the white expanse. She couldn’t look at Iain. She knew what she would see.

 

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