He moved his lips soothingly against her temple as he calmed his raging passion. But instead of settling, she wrenched away, though the wall at her back stopped her retreat. She flattened against the rough stone, her breathing ragged, eyes sparking her fury. He placed his hands on the wall above her head and leaned his forehead against his arms. Admiring the way her breasts heaved against the constraints of her gown, he forced his gaze away from her ample charms and to her eyes.
He read mutiny in their cool blue depths. Mutiny and hatred. Puzzled, he wondered if he had gone too far, but he remembered how she had returned his kiss, for a moment at least. For one sweet moment she had felt like heaven in his arms. Now she fought to get away from him like a rabbit caught in the hunting path of a falcon.
“Explain why ye hate me so.” His voice sounded soft and low, both gentling and demanding at the same time.
She glanced past him, her gaze darting from side to side, judging the possibility of escape. There was none, and after a moment she lifted her chin a notch, refusing to answer him. He hid a grin at her courage and pride. And stubbornness.
“Have ye always disliked the idea of marriage, then?”
A disdainful breath escaped her. “I have been married once before. It dinnae interest me much then, either.”
“Yer previous husband was only a lad. Heir to a sizeable bit of land, but still just a lad.”
“And ye can do better,” she tossed at him, repeating his earlier boast to the king.
“Ye know I can.” He touched the backs of his fingers to her cheek and she gasped, her skin darkening beneath his touch. “I cannae get our love-making out of my mind.”
Brianna shrugged. “Och, there was nothing to recommend it to me. I have already put it from my mind.”
“I apologize for that, dearling. Ye willnae feel so bereft the next time, I promise ye.”
“Dinnae bother. All I want from ye is Morven’s protection for Wyndham.”
He met her steely stare. “Ye dinnae want me?”
“Nae,” she ground between clenched teeth, her nostrils flaring.
“Ye werenae married long enough to appreciate a man in yer bed. I bet ye still have yer dowry chest.” He teased her lightly, wanting to see a smile on her lips.
“I burned the wood to warm my cold bedroom,” she snarled in reply.
“Yer wedding dress?”
“Rags for the stable!”
He leaned closer, his voice a raw whisper in her ear. “I would settle for marrying ye the way I found ye.” Brianna eyed him in puzzlement, and he knew the instant she remembered he had pulled her from the burn as naked as the day she was born.
With a snarl of either rage or despair, she flung herself away from the wall. Before he could stop her, she darted beneath his arm and fled down the darkened hallway, her billowing silver hair the last thing to fade into the darkness.
Shite! Does the lass have no sense at all? He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, wincing as he encountered the tender stripe she’d laid down the side of his face. Why do I pursue her? She openly hates me and has scorned me before the king and his court. He shrugged, remembering how they’d come together when neither knew the other’s name. I could do a lot worse. His rueful smile creased the welt and he scowled at the sting.
Pivoting on his heel, he headed for the great hall where the feasting was taking place. Firelight burst across the walls, reflecting the flames dancing in the huge fireplace. Voices raised in cheer reached him and he slowed. They will wonder if I come to the table alone. Unable to control my bride. His footsteps halted. I dinnae want to marry, either. And I escaped to France. But now ’tis my duty to wed and provide my clan an heir. No matter some think I shirked my duty by running away, I willnae turn from it now.
Surely she hasnae gone far. Biting back another curse, he pushed himself from his indecision and headed down the hallway after her.
Chapter 11
Seated on a pile of hay in a corner of Maude’s stall, Brianna huddled in anger, arms wrapped around her waist against the night air. The mare showed mild interest, butting her with her soft nose as she begged a treat, but soon returned to her snooze, one hoof cocked lazily on its toe as she flicked her tail from time to time at a persistent horsefly.
Drained from the evening’s events, Brianna felt quite content to sit and feel sorry for herself. She was caught firmly by the king’s command, for no matter if she obeyed or not, she would soon find herself unable to call Wyndham home. Was there anything about this calamity she could derive happiness from?
Reluctantly, she admitted Conn not bad-looking. Undoubtedly many other young lasses had fallen victim to his imagined charm, but his looks were at least passable. Dare she trust his boast his love-making would be different in the future? Dare she hope to have anything approaching the respectful relationship she desired? From what I know of the man, ’tis doubtful.
She leaned her head against the wall of the stable. I dinnae want to marry a man proud of what is beneath his kilt. I dinnae want the distraction from running Wyndham. I especially dinnae want a man who was once in love with another. He is too well known for his dalliances before and since. Marry him? Ha! Murder him is more likely.
The door to Maude’s stall creaked open and Brianna glared at the intruder. To her surprise, Gavin stepped inside the stall, a worried look on his face.
“Are ye well, lass?”
She muttered under her breath, but nodded and motioned for him to join her. He stepped through the deep, sweet-smelling hay, pushing Maude gently on her rump to move her out of his way. The mare stomped a foot in irritation, flicking an ear as he passed.
Gavin settled on the mound of hay beside Brianna and plucked a long stem of dried grass from her tangled hair. With a smiling salute, he stuck the fragrant stem between his teeth. Leaning against the wooden planks behind him, he drew his legs up, hands dangling over his knees. Brianna eyed him curiously.
“How did ye find me?”
“Och, ye always seek the stable and Maude’s good company whenever ye are out of sorts.”
“I am out of sorts,” she admitted. “I begged the king’s mercy and received a life sentence.”
“The king did what he thought best. ’Twas yer da’s plan after all.”
“I am a woman grown and not subject to such interference in my life. I dinnae want to marry and leave Wyndham.”
“Things will work out. Ye must believe that.”
“Why could I not marry someone from Wyndham? So I wouldnae be required to move away, so I could help raise Jamie, keep Wyndham for him until he is grown?” She gave Gavin a frank stare. “Someone like ye?”
“Me? I am years older than ye. I wouldnae make ye a fit husband.”
Brianna waved aside his protest. “Ye are honorable, trustworthy, have some kinship and the desire to help our clans-people. And ye are always nice to me.”
Gavin shook his head and laughed. “’Tis true, though I care not for the lord’s position. And ye are an easy lass to love.”
“Ye love me?”
He returned her startled look with seriousness. “Aye. Since the day ye followed me out to the barn and demanded to be allowed to ride yer da’s stallion.”
“Ye dinnae let me ride him.”
“Nae. I couldnae see ye hurt. Ye have always had my heart, lass.”
“But ye have said nothing. It could have made a difference. We have so many of the same desires, hopes.”
He sighed. “No difference. Ye are betrothed to MacLaurey, and there isnae a man alive who would risk his wrath by touching ye.”
Brianna slid a thoughtful look from the corner of her eyes. “What if he agreed to break the contract?”
Gavin’s wan smile was tinged with sadness. “There is not a chance in hell he would give ye up, lass.”
“No chance at all.” Conn’s deep, forbidding voice rumbled from the doorway. His face was white with barely-leashed fury, and Brianna drew back in alarm. How much of their conversation had he
heard? Apparently too much, she realized as she met his angry gaze. After fleeing his embrace, he now found her in a most compromising position with one of her soldiers—who had just declared his love for her. Did Conn think she planned to run away with Gavin? Likely.
“Ye willnae blame the lass for this.” Gavin spoke over her musings, drawing Conn’s ire.
Conn snatched the stall door open, motioning for Gavin to leave with a jerk of his head. “The lass,” he bit out, stressing the word, “is about to become my wife. She is now under the protection of the MacLaureys.”
Gavin stood his ground. “Until she is married, her clansmen will protect her.”
“And let her get caught reiving again?” Conn taunted.
Gavin advanced a step, scowling. Conn relaxed his stance, flexing his hands in eager anticipation of a fight.
Brianna leapt to her feet, planting her fists on her hips in outrage. “Stop it, the both of ye!”
The two men ignored her, their challenging stares locked together, each waiting for the other to make the first move. She turned to Gavin, admonishment on her lips, and Conn’s black gaze snapped to her. She froze, realizing that to openly side with Gavin, a man who had declared his love for her in front of her betrothed, albeit unknowingly, would indeed be the spark to set the fire ablaze.
Amadans. Men. Schooling her face to a more tolerant mien, she addressed them both. “There is no reason for the two of ye to act like paukie lads. I willnae have it.”
Conn sent her a chilling look. “Ye willnae? Then, lady, have a care who ye tumble in the hay with. After our discussion a short time ago, I would be inclined to think him the reason ye told me nae.”
“I have told ye my reasons.”
“Ye will have to find better ones. The king has already conceded ye much.”
“Leave her be.” Gavin’s voice lost its hostility, his gaze no longer challenging.
Tension arced between the two men, then drained away. But the look that passed between them assured Brianna the matter was far from settled. Conn stepped away from the door, allowing Gavin passage. As the man drew abreast, Conn spoke. “I wouldnae harm her.”
Gavin nodded as he strode through the doorway. “That is a good thing.”
Brianna watched Gavin’s receding back, then met Conn’s mocking gaze.
“Ye started collecting admirers somewhat quickly for a lass with no prospects less than an hour ago.”
“Still none who would dare challenge ye,” she retorted bitterly, musing over Gavin’s words and actions.
“Nae, a smart man willnae. I may revise my opinion of the Douglases yet.”
“Dinnae insult these men. They have risked much to do what I asked of them.”
“Their goal was the same as yers.”
“Mayhap, but they swore their lives to me.”
“All of Morven will be yers.”
Brianna’s eyes lit with anger. “Nae.”
Conn ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Why do ye not accept this marriage?”
“I have told ye. I dinnae wish to marry. My place is at Wyndham.”
“I want ye back in my arms where ye were three nights ago.”
Brianna lifted her chin, her eyes glittering with warning. “That night was a mistake. If ye persist in this, I will make yer life a living hell.”
Chapter 12
Dundonald Castle, a sennight later
Brianna tugged the girth strap on Maude’s saddle, fitting it tight around the mare’s belly. A low whine caught her attention. In the doorway to the stall, a young collie sat, his tail sweeping the straw. Brianna crossed to the pup and squatted before him. She patted his shiny black head and got a lick from his broad pink tongue in return.
“Ye are a right pest, aye, lad?” She ruffled his ears affectionately. “I dinnae bring ye a treat today. My mind was elsewhere.”
His tail beat faster and he whimpered as he wiggled against Brianna.
“I wish I could take ye with me. I am in need of a fine herding dog such as ye.”
“He likes ye, m’lady.”
Brianna looked up, recognizing the kennel master’s voice. “He has followed me around the stable the past few days. He seems to be a good lad.”
The man rubbed his whiskery chin. “I wondered where he’d been. Of all his littermates, he is the trouble-maker. Not destructive, mind ye, just smart as a whip and always off doing things on his own.”
Brianna rose, giving the pup a last pat. He leapt to his feet and slid around her, peering at his master from behind her skirts.
“He is a collie, aye?”
The kennel master grinned, warming to his subject. “Aye, m’lady. From a very noble and hard-working line. His dam can gather up a flock of sheep quicker than a virgin—er, before I can give the signals. And his sire is tireless herding cattle. Doesnae back down from even the toughest auld besom, yet nearly lost his life keeping a newborn warm out in a winter storm two years ago.”
“I could use a dog like that. Mine died suddenly several weeks ago. Do ye know if the pup is for sale?”
“Tam, here? Och, ye dinnae want him. He is too independent and willnae listen. Ask the king’s man about one of his littermates. At nearly eight months old, they are already well ahead on their training. They will make excellent herders.”
Brianna considered the man’s words carefully. “I thank ye. I will speak to the king’s man about this.”
Ducking his head in a respectful gesture, the man took a step toward her, opening the noose on the end of a narrow rope. He pulled up short, puzzled. “Now, where has the beast run off to this time?”
Leaving him scratching his head in bewilderment, Brianna mounted her horse and set about their daily routine. Careful to keep close to the castle wall, she put Maude through her paces, bleeding off some of the energy the mare collected each day with nothing to do but stand in her stall and munch the king’s hay.
* * *
Two days later, she tied her bags behind her saddle, distracted as she listened for the soft footfalls of the pup who had become her companion around the stable. He had been absent the day before, and the king’s man had nothing new to tell her about selling the dog, though he assured her he’d brought it to the king’s attention. Today, however, she was leaving Dundonald, and she regretted not asking the king herself.
She patted the bags, taking a mental inventory of their contents. She’d arrived with almost nothing, and was leaving with more than she’d imagined. The traveling dress she wore was a gift, her maid told her, as was the heavy woolen plaide she would sleep on each night. She also carried a water skin and oatcakes should she grow hungry along the way. In the second bag was an ewer of beaten gold, inlaid with silver chasing and precious stones, given to her by the king as a wedding gift at the banquet two nights earlier.
She’d received a second gift as well. Wrapped in gauze and placed in a soft leather pouch was a sapphire pendant, the stone bound in silver filigree, a gift from her husband-to-be. The pendant, as beautiful as it was, had been pushed to the bottom of the bag. She’d no desire to wear jewelry marking her as the man’s possession. Its worth was in the coin it would bring when she sold it. The money, which would buy her people a goodly supply of grain this winter, was of far greater value to her. Conn might or might not agree, but she would worry about that later.
There was nothing left to delay her. It was time to leave Dundonald and the king’s protection. Time to look to her new future and make something good of it. She stepped into the saddle and rode from the stable, ducking her head as she passed beneath the portal. Outside, the others were already mounted, waiting for her. The kennel master stood to the side, a black and white puppy at his side.
She nudged Maude over to him. “What is the word on the pup?”
A half-grin pulled the man’s mouth to one side. “The steward bade me gift ye with the pup of yer choice. Do ye still want young Tam, or would another suit ye better?”
“This is the lad
I want.”
“Then St. Francis smile upon ye. He will make a fine dog—once he outgrows his mischievous ways.”
He handed the leather lead to Brianna with a small salute. She thanked him and looped the soft leather about the pommel of her saddle. The young dog rose to his feet, tail pluming gently.
“Are ye ready, milady?” Conn asked.
She met his gaze. “Aye.”
* * *
Brianna stiffened as Conn dropped beside her on the log she used as a seat, his trencher full of oatcakes and roasted rabbit. Her own plate still held most of her own meager meal. Since facing the prospect of marriage to Laird MacLaurey, her appetite had declined noticeably. She set her supper on the ground beside her and nudged it back. Tam, lying behind her, made short work of it.
Tonight they were miles away from Troon and she no longer had the people of Dundonald Castle as a buffer between herself and Conn. And right now he sat entirely too close for her comfort, their truce before the king far from resolved. She scooted once away from his bulk and eyed him warily as he casually licked his fingers. “What are ye doing?” she asked.
Conn glanced at her, his eyes overly wide in feigned surprise. “Why, enjoying yer company, of course.”
“Why?” Her tone was blunt, challenging. Why are ye so persistent? Do ye not understand I dinnae like what ye have done to my life?
Conn sighed. “Because the king distinctly told us to do so.”
Brianna’s eyes widened in alarm and she shook her head. “He said no such thing.” She racked her memory in an effort to recall King Robert’s words. It had been more than a week since he had surprised her with his response to her petition and subsequent reinstatement of her betrothal. She came up empty.
The Highlander's Outlaw Bride Page 7