Highland Lover

by Hannah Howell

  “A wedding? Right now?”

  Alana stared at Fiona in horror as she slowly sat up. When she had first opened her eyes, she had been greatly relieved that her brothers were not there. She had been a little disappointed to find Fiona at her bedside instead of Gregor, but then had decided that that was probably for the best. She had known she would need to prepare herself for any awkward questions asked concerning her faint. Then Fiona had told her that it was good she had had herself some rest, as she would be in need of all her strength for the wedding.

  “The wedding between ye and Gregor, of course.”

  “Och, nay, those brothers of mine havenae threatened Gregor into marrying me, have they?”

  “Weel, a few threats were tossed out, but that shouldnae surprise ye. Ye were most convincing in all of your arguments and may have e’en won the day if ye hadnae fainted. Weel, once your brothers realized ye were with child, there wasnae a single argument any of us could muster that would have changed their minds about fetching a priest and getting the two of ye married.”

  “They ken about the bairn?” Alana groaned when Fiona nodded. “Gregor does, too?” Fiona nodded again and Alana cursed. “Why did ye tell them?” she asked, but there was no accusation or anger behind her question.

  “I didnae tell any of them,” Fiona replied. “Didnae have to. Your brothers kenned it before Gregor did, but he wasnae slow to guess it, either.”

  Alana supposed that should not surprise her. For all they sometimes acted as if they did not have a brain between them, her brothers were not the idiots they sometimes pretended to be and they were very observant men. Their family was a large one and there always seemed to be some woman with child around them. One could not help but learn all the signs that told one when a woman was carrying. Considering how many brothers and nephews Gregor had, he would undoubtedly know all the signs as well. Alana was rather embarrassed that she had missed them up until she had been so ill in the morning.

  “I didnae want Gregor to be forced to marry me,” she said in a small voice, wondering how things could have gone so wrong when everything had just seemed to being going right.

  “The when of the marriage is all that is being forced upon the two of you. Gregor was intending to marry ye anyway.”

  “He has ne’er said so, Fiona.”

  “Wheesht, what do ye think this last fortnight was all about?”

  “Getting me back into his bed?” Alana had to smile over the thoroughly disgusted look Fiona gave her.

  “That goes without saying. E’en the best of men tends to think with the wrong head first when it comes to a woman he desires. Howbeit, a mon doesnae woo a lass as doggedly as Gregor has been wooing ye if he doesnae plan to marry ye. Nay, especially not when he has a horde of brothers teasing him about it at every turn. Aye, Gregor put up a wee bit of a fight e’en when he kenned that ye are carrying his child, but it was just because any mon would bristle when ordered to do so. Gregor also seemed inclined to argue with your brothers for no good reason at all except that, as he told your brother Artan, they irritated him.”

  Alana surprised herself by laughing. “Aye, my brothers irritate a lot of people. They are verra skilled at it. Sometimes I think ’tis but a game they play.”

  Fiona smiled. “Possibly. Nay, I would say definitely. Ewan’s cousin Sigimor is much the same.” She stood up, stretched a little, and idly rubbed at the small of her back. “Do ye think ye are rested enough to prepare for your wedding?”

  “Aye, but I dinnae like this,” Alana muttered as she cautiously stood up, waited a moment to see how she felt, and then sighed with relief when there was no hint of dizziness. “There are still so many things left unsettled between Gregor and me. We have only this day begun to return to what we were before I found out about Mavis.”

  “’Tis a beginning.” Fiona helped Alana undress and brush the wrinkles from the clean clothing she had set out while Alana had slept. “Ye can continue to sort out your troubles after ye are married.”

  Alana thought about that as Fiona helped her wash up and get dressed in a very fine dark blue gown that had obviously come from Fiona’s own supply. She and Gregor had cleared one hurdle in the garden—the one she had set around her badly bruised heart. Their passion had flared hot again, although she suspected it had never really cooled. Hers had simply been buried by her hurt and anger for a while. Soon they could feed that hunger again. She could not see how that could hurt her cause which was, once again, to win Gregor’s heart.

  And there was the child to consider, she thought, smoothing her hand over her stomach even as Fiona pushed her down onto a stool and began to tidy her sleep-tangled hair. Gregor’s sons were good boys, handsome and strong, but they would always carry the stain of being bastards, unfair though that was. She did not want that for her child. It was not the best reason to marry, but it was as good as or better than many of the others that set a man and a woman before a priest.

  “Come, now, Alana, dinnae look so fretful,” urged Fiona. “Ye must see that Gregor wants ye as his wife. Aye, mayhap ye cannae be sure of much else, but there has to be something between the two of ye or ye wouldnae be carrying that child now, would ye?”

  “Lust, Fiona. It need be only lust on Gregor’s part, and we both ken how easily a mon can feel that for nearly any woman who isnae too ugly, too old, or too foul of smell.”

  Fiona chuckled as she helped Alana stand up again and idly brushed down the skirts of her gown. “True enough, but if lust were all that ailed Gregor, he would have had ye and still married Mavis for her fine dowry. He also wouldnae have played the monk all the while he did his best to woo ye back into his arms.”

  Alana stared at Fiona in surprise. “How verra odd and contrary of me. I thought I had lost all trust in him, yet I ne’er once thought that he might seek all I was denying him in the arms of another woman. Despite Mavis, despite those two bonnie lads of his born of his licentious past, I have ne’er thought Gregor would bed down with another whilst he was courting me.”

  “And that should tell ye that, despite all the hurt and anger that has clouded your thoughts of late, deep in your heart, ye do trust Gregor.”

  “I suppose I must.”

  “And so ye should. When he takes those vows, he will mean them. Aye, his father was a rutting pig, unfaithful to every wife and lover he had—until Mab. The old fool truly cares for her, as ye will see when they return from their travels and ye can finally meet him. It was a long time coming, but when he said those vows to Mab, he meant every one. His sons took heed of the turmoil their father’s faithlessness caused in this place and none of them mean to follow his lead. ’Tis probably why none of them are rushing to the altar, either. They need to be certain of the lass when they wed, for they ken that will be the end of all their roaming. My Ewan also made certain that they understood that such vows before God should be taken verra seriously. ’Struth, I dinnae think Gregor really needed to be taught that, for he had already accepted that. And now, he has made his choice.”

  “Och, weel, there really isnae much choice being offered here, is there?”

  “Of course there is. They arenae verra good ones, but they are there.”

  “The choices being get married or watch a fight develop between our clans. It may stop at violence, but it will still cause a great deal of trouble for all of you.” Alana sighed. “It doesnae matter. I may fret and bemoan my poor, miserable fate,” she briefly exchanged a grin with Fiona, “ but I want the fool.”

  “’Twill all turn out weel.”

  “I hope Gregor thinks so as weel.”

  Gregor grimaced as he tugged on the bottom of the ornately embroidered doublet he wore. It was surprising how quickly he had gotten used to wearing the more comfortable plaid and a shirt. He felt it was important to look his best for the wedding, however. After all, he had worn all his finery for Mavis. He owed Alana no less.

  “Are ye still certain this is what ye wish to do?” Ewan asked as he moved to sta
nd near Gregor.

  “Aye, as I have told ye before this complication. ’Struth, I kenned it long ago, but I was verra good at lying to myself,” Gregor murmured.

  Ewan nodded. “’Tis an easy thing for a mon to do. It isnae really a weakness, ye ken, but a strength,” he added softly.

  Gregor was surprised to see the faintest hint of a blush upon Ewan’s cheeks, and the man would not meet his gaze squarely. He knew Ewan was speaking of love, and Gregor felt a little uncomfortable himself. It was difficult for a man to accept that his happiness rested firmly in the soft, delicate hands of a woman. Gregor was still a little reluctant to face that truth. A man was, after all, supposed to be the strong one, the leader, the warrior, and the protector.

  He tried to look at his love for Alana as a strength, but it was not an easy thing to see. “I am nay so verra sure of that. It certainly doesnae feel that way.” He realized that he had just confessed to the fact that he loved Alana even if he had not used the word itself.

  “Ye will be as soon as ye feel certain that ye arenae alone in it all. ’Tis the uncertainty that makes it all so verra hard. I ken ye willnae heed what I think on it, not deep in your heart, but I dinnae think ye have aught to worry about.”

  “There are times when hope nudges close to certainty, but it doesnae matter. It will all sort itself out in the end. There really isnae any choice for me.” Gregor smiled faintly. “And who can say, mayhap that is one of the things that troubles me the most.”

  There was no answer from Ewan, for Fiona and Alana arrived. Gregor fixed his full attention on his bride as she walked toward him. It had both relieved him and worried him to leave telling Alana about the marriage to Fiona, yet he saw no sign of anger upon Alana’s face. She looked nervous, uncertain, and a little afraid. That he could understand. He was feeling much the same.

  She looked lovely in the dark blue gown she wore. He had to wonder yet again how she could have been left unwooed and untouched for two-and-twenty years. Glancing toward where the Murray twins stood with their legs braced and their arms crossed over their broad chests, it was easy for Gregor to think that they had had something to do with that. It would really gall him beyond words if he discovered that he owed them anything.

  Alana felt torn between the urge to crow triumphantly over the husband she was about to gain and one to flee into the wilderness. Gregor looked so handsome in his black and red finery that he made her feel a little breathless. She had to be mad to think she could make a man like him love her or that she could keep him content for years. All too readily she thought of all her faults, from being too thin to being afraid of the dark.

  “Steady, Alana,” whispered Fiona, who walked at her side. “’Tis usually the mon who flees when faced with marriage, and Gregor doesnae look like he has any intention of doing so before that knot is tied and tied tightly.”

  “Trapping him,” Alana whispered back.

  “Idiot. If ye must think such foolish things, ye might try to recall that ye didnae breed that bairn all by yourself and that it has ensnared ye as weel.”

  That was true, Alana thought as she stopped in front of Gregor. Fiona slipped around her and went to stand next to Ewan. Alana watched them exchange an intimate smile and nearly sighed with envy. That was what she wanted but was suddenly afraid she would never have. There was little she could do about it, however, she mused as Gregor bowed elegantly over her hand. The warmth left behind by the brush of his lips flowed through her body and she suddenly did not care what woes and doubts plagued her.

  This man was her mate, and fate had pushed her into his path. She had to have faith that she was not wrong in all she felt for him. He felt something more than desire for her, and she was sure of that in her more confident moments. It was there in the way he spoke to her and always seemed to have to touch her in some way. There had to be some depth of feeling in his heart for her or he would not have spent so much time courting her and enduring the teasing of his family even though she had remained cool to his efforts for so long. He had also planned to turn aside Mavis despite the land and coin she would have given him and that, too, had to be considered.

  Now was not the time to do all that, however. The priest was waiting and, from the disgruntled look he wore, she suspected her brothers had dragged him away from something. They were not known for their patience. In fact, Alana suspected they would soon begin growling over the way she was dawdling and, with the great hall filled with Gregor’s brothers and half brothers, nephews, and sons, she did not think it would be wise to test the limits of her brothers’s patience.

  “’Twill be fine, lass,” Gregor whispered as he kissed her cheek.

  “They shouldnae have threatened ye,” she murmured, eyeing her brothers with displeasure.

  “Aye, they should have. Many a mon would have done far worse than threaten me. One question ere we stand before that highly irritated priest—why didnae ye tell me about the bairn?”

  Alana blushed and shrugged. “I really wasnae aware of it until today. Aye, I had the occasional suspicion for the last week, but I didnae really consider it all until I had my head in a bucket this morning.”

  “Och, poor wee lass. Mayhap Fiona has a potion that can ease that.”

  “I suspicion she does and I will be sure to ask her.”

  “Are ye ready then, love?”

  She looked from the darkening scowls upon her brothers’s faces to the equally frowning priest. “Aye, let us go and be done with it.” She blushed. “Oh, I didnae mean—”

  “I ken exactly what ye mean and take no offense. ’Tis galling to have those two lord it o’er you.”

  “Verra galling.”

  With Gregor holding her hand in his, they moved to kneel before the priest. As he began to read the words that would bind her and Gregor together for as long as they lived, Alana had one cheering thought. In a few moments her brothers would no longer have the rule of her and she could tell them to go away.

  Chapter 22

  “’Tis my wedding night,” Alana said as she paced her room, Charlemagne at her side. “Do ye happen to notice that something is a wee bit strange, Charlemagne? Weel, I will tell ye exactly what is wrong. ’Tis my wedding night and I am all alone, pacing the floor and talking to a cat.” She stopped pacing, put her hands on her hips, and glared at the door. “Where is my new and much-anticipated husband?”

  Charlemagne sprawled on his back at her feet, silently begging to have his belly scratched.

  “The many trials and tribulations of us poor mortals simply dinnae interest ye at all, do they?” she asked as she crouched down and began to scratch his belly.

  Alana felt both angry and terrified. Everything had seemed well enough at the wedding. Gregor had acted not only accepting of his fate, but even a little pleased. He had spoken his vows clearly, without any hesitation. The kiss he had given her to seal their vows had shocked the priest and left her reeling. She had not even had the wit left to blush beneath the hoots and bawdy suggestions flung at them by his kinsmen. Then he had walked off with her brothers while she had come to the bedchamber they would now share. And disappeared.

  She stood up and glared at the door again. If her brothers had done anything to hurt Gregor she would see that they paid dearly for it. Yet she could not think why they would do anything to him now that they had gotten all they had demanded. Neither did she think all three men were sitting in Gregor’s bedchamber, drinking and becoming close friends. Alana hoped that they would become friends, but it was far too early for that to happen. Nevertheless, now her anxiety and her curiosity were roused.

  Biting her lip, she reached for the door latch and then quickly snatched her hand back. He was supposed to come to her. She was freshly bathed, softly perfumed, and dressed in a night rail so thin it was useless as a shield for her modesty. She was all that a new bride should be, but the groom seemed to have forgotten about her.

  Anger quickly overcame her fears and doubts. She grabbed a blanket from the bed,
wrapped it around herself, and went to find Gregor. All during the wedding celebration he had been making her promises of a night filled with passion with every kiss and every subtle caress of his hand. As her newly wedded husband it was past time he set about fulfilling those promises that had made her so eager she had been counting the minutes left before she could go to their bedchamber and get ready for their wedding night. It was time he stopped whatever else he was doing and joined her there.

  Gregor stared into the tankard of ale he held and wondered what he should do. He had been feeling quite smug, even a little self-righteous, for marrying Alana without a thought or care to what her dowry might be. Finding out that she had a dowry that made Mavis’s look paltry in comparison was like a hard blow to the stomach. Since Keira had gained all her husband owned, she had given her dowry to Alana, adding enough to Alana’s already generous dowry to make her a very rich bride indeed. A bride far too rich for a man like him.

  Why had she never mentioned that she had a dowry so large it was absolutely astounding that there was not a man behind every tree and shrub ready to leap out and grab her and force her to marry him? Men snatched brides with far less for a dowry. No one would believe that he had married Alana for anything else but the lure of her fortune. Seeking a bride with a dowry the size of Mavis’s would have been seen by most people as the act of a smart man. Taking a bride with a dowry the size of Alana’s made him look greedy.

  The hard truth was that she was far too good for him in all ways. She deserved so much better. For a woman like Alana to marry a man like him was much akin to a princess marrying a blacksmith. Now, just when he finally held her firmly in his grasp, he knew he had to let her go. That was the truly honorable thing to do.