by Nora Roberts
Bride.
The word scraped across Lachlan’s nerves. He tried to imagine the lovely Arianna Douglas in the arms of Duncan MacLean. Sitting always beside him at his table.
Lying in his bed.
Lachlan’s chest rose and fell, and he cursed when his horse stumbled on the rocky trail. He quickly pulled his thoughts back to the task at hand. He had no business letting his imagination play such tricks on him. But as he reined in his mount and watched the trail of horsemen move ahead, his gaze fell on Arianna again. He could see why his uncle had offered for her. Duncan MacLean may have lived a long life, but he was still a strong, virile warrior. No man in his right mind could resist such a treasure.
When at last the gathering shadows signaled an end to daylight, Lachlan sent a band of warriors into the forest to hunt their supper. He gave the command to the others to make camp beside a rushing stream.
One of his men helped Arianna down from the saddle, and he saw her press her hands to the small of her back. A simple gesture, but it caused a twinge of guilt. He’d been so busy with his own thoughts, he’d given not a care to her comfort.
He hurried forward. “Forgive me, my lady. I’ll have my men prepare a shelter for you and your nursemaid. Because we’ve yet to cross into our own borders, we’ll have to remain close, for your own protection. But know that my men and I respect your privacy and will see to your every need.”
His demeanor was so formal, she seemed to consider a moment before replying, “I thank you. But Nola and I will be quite comfortable in the back of the wagon.”
He bowed. “As you wish.”
His warriors returned bearing a stag, and soon the fragrance of roasted meat filled the night air. While Arianna and Nola sat on a nest of furs in the wagon, eating their fill of venison and drinking ale to warm them, the Highlanders sat in a circle around the fire, talking in low tones.
Arianna noted that warriors stood on the various hilltops around the camp, keeping watch. Though they were merely looking out for her safety, they served another purpose as well. If she were inclined to attempt an escape, they would surely spot her.
Not that she intended to sneak away like a thief in the night. Where would she go? If she were to return to her home, her father would simply send her away again, this time no doubt to be dragged to the Highlands, bound hand and foot like a prisoner.
Nay, she had no intention of running away. But neither did she have any intention of becoming the bride of a tired old Highland laird. She understood her father’s need for protection. That was why she was so determined to find a way to escape her fate without bringing shame to her family.
“Ye’re quiet tonight, lass.” Nola touched a hand to Arianna’s forehead. “Are ye feeling a bit feverish?”
“I’m fine.” Arianna turned away, composing her features. The last thing she needed was her old nursemaid hovering over her through the night. She forced a yawn. “Just weary after so many hours on the trail.”
“And why not?” The old woman’s brow wrinkled with disdain. “’Twas a hard day. We’ll both be glad when we reach the Highlands.”
Arianna blocked out Nola’s words as she studied the men around the campfire. She needed to choose her target well. Someone young and brash and fair of face. Someone foolish enough, or arrogant enough, to be considered irresistible to maidens.
As if in answer to her thoughts, Pembroke Drummond turned from the fire and caught sight of her.
At once he hurried over. “Is there something you need, my lady?”
“Nay, I…” She brought a hand to her throat, unsure how to broach the subject. “Do you…” She swallowed. “…have a wife?”
“Not yet.” His smile was quick and warm. “But soon, I hope. There’s a lass in our village. Lana is her name. I’ve decided that when I return to the Highlands, I’ll speak with her father.”
“I see.” Her heart fell. He seemed the youngest man here, and certainly fair of face. “Are all the men wed, then?”
He shrugged, glancing at his comrades. “Not all. There’s Vinson, whose wife died in childbirth.” He pointed to a young man, extremely wide of girth, who was busily stuffing venison into his mouth. “His grief is so deep, he scarcely speaks of her at all. His only consolation is in food.”
His smile returned as he caught sight of his friend returning from the river. “And there’s Lachlan, of course. Though there are many maidens in our village who sigh over him, he swears the woman hasn’t been born who will claim his heart.”
Arianna followed the direction of his gaze. The giant leader of their group had obviously just come from a bath in the river. His dark hair was plastered to his neck and beaded with droplets of water. The plaid had been scrubbed clean of dirt and blood, and left to dry while he bathed. It was now draped across his chest and wound around his hips, leaving his arms and legs bare. He was carrying two buckets of water, one in each hand. Though they were filled to the brim, he carried them with ease as if they weighed nothing at all.
“And why is that? Does he dislike women?”
“Nay, my lady. He enjoys them well enough. But he made a vow to his dying father to dedicate himself to becoming the strongest, bravest warrior in all of Scotland. And to that end, he must avoid losing his heart. For to do so would be a distraction he could ill afford.”
Arianna crossed her arms and tapped her foot, deep in thought.
Oh, the warrior wouldn’t do at all. He was too strong. Too dedicated to the task of war. What if her plan went awry and he overpowered her?
She lifted her head and studied him through a fringe of lashes. There was something dangerously attractive about him. Perhaps it was the darkness, the hint of quiet strength, that had her heart beating so erratically.
Still, he would be a fearsome foe.
Without giving herself time to change her mind she gave the young warrior a smile. “Perhaps you could ask your leader to bring me a drink of water from that bucket.”
“Aye, my lady. ’Twould be my pleasure.”
Pembroke hurried away.
Moments later Lachlan approached the wagon, holding a dipper. “Your water, my lady.”
“Thank you.” Arianna was dismayed when, instead of handing the dipper to her, he merely held it to her lips. As she drank she was uncomfortably aware of the way he studied her.
The hand holding the dipper was big and rough and calloused. A warrior’s hand. The eyes watching her were shuttered, though she thought she detected curiosity. His skin smelled clean and fresh, and the plaid wrapped around him held the hint of evergreen. She’d been right to think he was all wrong for her plan. Up close he was simply too overpowering.
Every sip was an effort. What she really wanted was to turn away and forget her silly plan. But unless she saw it through tonight, all would be lost. She would find herself in the Highlands, wed to Duncan MacLean. That thought, and that alone, kept her from bolting.
“Your friend tells me you are unwed.”
“Aye, my lady.”
His deep voice seemed to warm with unspoken laughter. That caused her to back up a step. Yet she could read nothing disrespectful in his demeanor.
“Is there not some village lass awaiting your return?”
“None that I know of.”
“Your friend…”
“His name is Pembroke.”
She nodded, and almost lost her nerve. She took a deep breath. “Aye. Pembroke tells me there are many maidens who smile at you.”
He shrugged. “A maiden’s smile can mean many things. Take yours, my lady.”
She felt her smile slipping and forced herself to meet his eyes. “What do you read in my smile?”
“I would hope it means that once you are wed to my laird, you and I can be friends.”
“Friends.” Out of the corner of her eye she could see the men going about their evening chores. Tending the horses. Slipping away to the loch to bathe. Though none were staring, they had to be aware that Lachlan MacLean was speaking i
n low tones to the laird’s betrothed.
It was too late to change her mind. Her plans were already being put into motion.
“Aye, Lachlan MacLean, I would like us to be friends.” Arianna took a step back and gave him a hesitant smile. “I’ll bid you good night now.”
He inclined his head. “And you, my lady. Rest in the knowledge that my men and I will keep watch through the night.”
Keep watch through the night.
His words rang ominously in her ears as he walked away. Arianna leaned weakly against the side of the wagon. If she thought that first part had been difficult, it was nothing compared with what she planned to do when the others had fallen asleep.
3
IN THE BACK of the wagon Arianna lay in the nest of furs, listening to the sound of Nola’s breathing beside her. It had seemed an eternity before her nurse had drifted into sleep. And even now the young woman dared not move, for fear of disturbing the old dear.
She peered cautiously over the edge of the wagon bed. The fire had burned to embers. In the glow she could make out the shapes of the sleeping men. A short time ago she had watched as Lachlan MacLean had chosen a spot a little away from the others, beside a tall boulder. It was so perfect, it had to be fate.
After a glance at her old nurse to assure herself that she was sound asleep, Arianna eased herself up and over the side of the wagon, all the while holding her breath. One misstep now and she would have the entire encampment awake too soon. Oh, she intended to wake them. But only after she’d positioned herself beside their leader, in a provocative and incriminating pose. Then she would let out a bloodcurdling scream loud enough to wake even the dead.
Nola would be shocked. Scandalized that one of the laird’s own men would compromise the woman Duncan MacLean had chosen for his mate. Arianna would, of course, assure her old nursemaid that it had not gone beyond a touch, or perhaps an attempted kiss. In that way, her honor would not be violated. But even this hint of scandal would force that righteous old woman to return Arianna to her father. Duncan MacLean would have to find another maiden to wed. Arianna’s reputation would remain intact. And her life would go on much as it had before.
Oh, it was so simple.
She flattened herself against a rock and peered around, first at the men asleep around the fire, then at the men standing guard on the distant hillsides. When she saw the sentries turn away to study the forest, she covered the space that separated her from Lachlan’s bedroll.
Moving quietly, she knelt beside him and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. All she need do now was snuggle in beside him, and the deed would be accomplished.
In the manner of all warriors, Lachlan slept lightly. His years of training had taught him to identify the distinct sounds of the forest. Even with a mind numbed by sleep, he was able to chart the soft footfall of a deer, the rustle of a fox’s tail, the barely perceptible slither of a snake.
Someone was standing over him. Not one of his men. The footsteps were too light. He felt the grass ripple as the figure knelt. Curious, he opened his eyes and watched as Arianna Douglas unfastened her cloak and began to settle herself beside him.
Once he’d assured himself that he wasn’t dreaming, his hand snaked out, capturing her wrist. “What game is this you play, my lady?”
He saw her eyes widen. As she opened her mouth, he clapped a hand over it, stilling her cry. When she brought her hands to his chest to push away, he caught them, pinning her against him.
She’d expected strength. But she’d never before known anyone to be this powerful. With absolutely no effort on his part he had her restrained and helpless.
“I ask again.” His words, whispered against her ear, sent icy splinters down her spine and brought a strange curling deep inside. “What game do you play?”
She moaned in frustration, but he kept his hand firmly over her mouth as he began to work his way toward answering his own question.
“You have no weapon. Therefore, you meant me no harm. Or did you? There are other ways to harm a man besides a dirk or sword.” He suddenly understood. “You little vixen. You thought to use me to gain your freedom.”
He saw the truth of his words in her eyes.
His own narrowed in fury. “Did you not think beyond the moment? What this would mean to my laird? Did you not realize he could have me flogged or worse, hanged, for sullying his betrothed?”
If he weren’t so furious he might have noted the look of consternation that clouded her face, followed by the dawning of truth and pain. But all he could see was a sly female out to entrap him in her own little web of deceit.
Anger had his blood running so furiously, he could feel sense and reason begin to slip behind a veil of red-hot mist. “I see. You thought only of your own fate and gave not a care to mine. I was simply to be a pawn in this little game of yours. So be it. If I’m to pay the price, then at least let me enjoy the crime.”
As he lowered his head Arianna felt her heart stop. Felt the breath back up in her throat. Sweet heaven, he was going to kiss her. And she was helpless to stop him.
She’d never expected it to come to this. She’d intended to cry out, wake the entire company of warriors, and flee to the safety of her nursemaid’s arms.
Fool, she thought, as his mouth hovered inches from hers. She was nothing more than a fool.
And then, before she could put together another coherent thought, his lips were on hers in a kiss meant to punish. A kiss that unleashed the storm swirling inside him. All heat and flash and fury.
If she’d been struck by lightning, Arianna couldn’t have been more stunned. The moment his lips covered hers, there was an explosion of color behind her eyes, as if the stars had collided in the heavens and were sending off millions of fiery sparks.
A cry escaped her throat. He swallowed the sound until it was little more than a sigh. But that was enough to have him lifting his head.
He looked down into eyes that had gone wide with absolute terror. He experienced a moment of vindication. But that was almost immediately followed by a rush of remorse. Arianna Douglas was a maiden. An innocent. And from the looks of her, one who’d never before tasted a man’s lips. That knowledge was both humbling and deeply arousing.
He was her first. Her only. It was the sort of thing that filled a man with not only an odd sense of pride but a deep sense of responsibility.
Without even realizing what he was doing, he nuzzled her lips, teasing, tasting, until they softened and opened to him.
“Oh, my lady.” He breathed the words inside her mouth as he nibbled the corner of her lips.
“Please.” She tried to turn her head away. “You mustn’t. We mustn’t…”
“Too late.” With his hands framing her face, he stared into her eyes and took the kiss deeper.
He saw the way her eyes widened before the lashes fluttered closed. Felt the way her skin flushed and heated at his touch.
It was the sweetest of torture to lie with her here, feeling that slender body beneath his, chest heaving, hands trembling as they found their way around his waist. And clung.
He thought he could remain just this way, with her hands touching him, her sighs filling him, until the morning sun burned away the mists of the forest.
He could feel the imprint of her body on his. The soft curve of breast. The flare of hip. Despite her innocence, there was no denying her reaction to his kiss. He could taste her passion. Was well aware of her first stirrings of desire. It wasn’t something she had learned to hide, the way a more experienced woman might.
He took the kiss deeper and heard the soft, guttural moan that seemed to come from deep in her heart. That only inflamed him more, until he was lost in her.
Lachlan thought of himself as a worldly man. The battles had taken him to many villages. There were always females willing to offer comfort to weary warriors. He’d kissed more women than he could remember. But none of them had ever tempted him to forget his vow as warrior. He was a man who took w
hat he wanted and gave nothing of himself in the bargain. His heart was never in danger of being bruised.
Never had he tasted a woman like this. Here was sweetness. Here was rare beauty. Not just the beauty that came from a perfect body and a flawless face. There was an inner beauty in this woman. A goodness that set her apart from every other woman he’d ever met.
This was a woman he could love, with all his heart and soul. A woman a man would be proud to call his own. As that thought flashed through his mind, he wondered that the heavens didn’t open up and swallow them both.
Was he so weak that one small woman could make him forget the promise he’d made to his father?
He was fully into the kiss, and completely aroused, when he felt her tears.
Tears?
On a wave of self-revulsion he drew a little away and touched a finger to her lashes. “Please don’t weep, my lady. I never meant for this to happen.”
“Nor I.” The tears came harder now. Faster. “But I cannot allow what has happened between us to change what I must do.” She pushed away, dragging air into her starving lungs. “I’ll tell you this now, Lachlan MacLean, so that you will understand. I’m truly sorry for what I’m about to do. I didn’t realize how it might affect you. Still, I must do whatever necessary to escape my fate so that I may return to my home and my sisters.”
Before he could stop her she let out a sharp cry that had the warriors around the campfire sitting up and reaching for their weapons.
While he watched in consternation, Arianna leaped to her feet, clutching her cloak around her. Her nursemaid was out of the wagon and across the clearing within seconds, demanding to know what had happened.
“The Highlander, Lachlan MacLean, tried to…” Arianna burst into tears.
Lachlan got to his feet and watched in silence as the old woman gathered her young charge into her arms.
“Here now, child. Ye must tell me what has happened.”
When there was no reply, the old woman murmured words meant to soothe.