The Bride

by Julie Garwood

Alec was standing in the center of the courtyard next to his mount. His expression didn’t give her a guess as to what he was thinking, but Jamie didn’t believe he’d been patiently waiting for her arrival, as Beak had said. No, the Kincaid didn’t look like the patient sort at all.

  Alec was certain she was going to cause an uproar when they reached the Highlands. He held her gaze a long minute, wondering to himself just when he was going to get accustomed to her. Her eyes were the most vivid shade of violet he’d ever seen.

  There was blue and then there was blue. Beak had made that odd remark, Alec remembered. Now he understood what the stable master meant.

  He couldn’t allow her to captivate him this way. Her mouth was too damned appealing for his peace of mind. Yes, she was going to cause an upset all right, whether she realized it or not, Alec mused, for though he was certain none of his clansmen would dare to touch what belonged to him, their thoughts would certainly be strolling in that direction.

  The woman was simply too appealing for her own good. She was still frightened of him. Alec told himself that was a good beginning. A wife should always be a bit uncertain of her husband. Yet her fear irritated him, too. He would have ordered her to get on her mount and be quick about it if he hadn’t seen the apprehension in her gaze. She reminded him of a deer just picking up the scent of danger.

  It was high time he took control, he decided.

  Alec gained his stallion’s back in one fluid motion. The great black horse pranced a nervous sidestep into Wildfire’s flanks. Jamie’s horse was already in a prickly state, having been forced to stand next to a male whose scent she was unfamiliar with, and immediately tried to rear up. Alec reached over, grabbed the reins from the inattentive groom, and commanded the mare to settle down.

  Wildfire immediately obeyed.

  Beak heard Jamie’s in-drawn breath, noticed the way she stared at the Scottish warrior, and came to the conclusion she might be in jeopardy of fainting. He put his hand on her shoulder again.

  “Get your gumption back, girl. Ain’t going to make you feel any better if you disgrace yourself by swooning. I taught you better, didn’t I?”

  The grumbled words got her immediate attention. Jamie straightened away from the stable master. “There isn’t going to be any swooning,” she muttered. “You insult me by suggesting I have such a weakness.”

  Beak hid his smile. He wasn’t going to have to nudge her forward any longer. The fire was back in her eyes.

  With the grace befitting royalty, Jamie lifted the hem of her gown and walked over to her mount. Beak helped her get settled on Wildfire’s back, then reached up to pat her hand. “Now, give this old man your promise to get along with your husband,” he ordered. “It’s a sacred commandment, if you’ll remember,” he added with an outrageous wink.

  “It is not a commandment,” Jamie announced.

  “It is in the Highlands.”

  Alec had made that statement. He had sounded as though he meant what he said, too. Jamie gave him a disgruntled look before turning back to Beak.

  The stable master was smiling at her husband. “You’ll remember your promise to me, Laird Kincaid?”

  Alec nodded. He tossed Wildfire’s reins to Jamie, goaded his stallion forward, and left Jamie staring after him.

  He wasn’t going to wait for her. Jamie held Wildfire steady, determined to see just how far Alec would ride before he stopped to wait for her. When horse and rider disappeared across the drawbridge and out of sight, she came to the conclusion he wasn’t going to wait at all. The man hadn’t even bothered to glance back over his shoulder.

  “What did you mean when you asked him to remember his promise to you?” Jamie asked almost absentmindedly while she stared at the drawbridge.

  “Nothing to concern yourself with,” Beak said quickly.

  Jamie turned to look at him. “Out with it, Beak,” she commanded.

  “I just had a little talk with him, Jamie, about your . . . innocence.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Well, now, there’s going to have to be a wedding night, lass. Since I was the one who told you about the ways between a man and a woman, I thought I’d caution your husband—”

  “Oh, God, you talked about that?”

  “I did. He promised to be careful with you, Jamie. He’ll try not to hurt you much the first time.”

  Jamie knew her cheeks were flaming red with embarrassment. “I’m never going to let him touch me, Beak, so your gaining his promise was all for naught.”

  “Now, Jamie, don’t sound so stubborn. I was afeard for you. ’Tis the truth I didn’t tell you much about the actual mating ways. I explained to Kincaid that you didn’t understand much about—”

  “I don’t want to hear any more of this talk. He’ll never touch me and that’s that.”

  Beak let out a loud sigh. “You’re in for a surprise, then, me girl. The way he looks at you tells me he’ll be taking you at first chance. Might as well accept that in your stubborn mind, Jamie. Just do what he tells you and you’ll come out all right.”

  “Do what he tells me?”

  “Now, lass, don’t raise your voice to me. You’d best be moving on, Jamie,” he urged.

  Jamie shook her head. “I’ll go in a minute, Beak. First I must gain your promise you’ll come after me if there’s trouble here.”

  “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

  She couldn’t quite took him in the eye when she whispered her explanation. “It seems that Papa took some gold coins from Andrew. It was a loan, Beak, and not a dowry, but I’m still worried. I don’t know how Papa will be able to pay Andrew back.”

  She dared a quick look up, to judge Beak’s reaction. She needn’t have bothered. His bellow of outrage nearly pushed her off her mount. “He took gold for you, Jamie? He sold you to Baron Andrew?”

  “No, no, you misunderstand,” Jamie said quickly. “It was just a loan, Beak. There isn’t time to argue about this. Just give me your word you’ll come for me if Papa needs help.”

  “Aye, lass,” Beak said. His sigh sounded angry. “I give you my pledge. Any other worries I should know about?”

  “I pray not.”

  “Then off with you. If your husband—”

  “One last matter, and then I’ll leave.”

  “You’re deliberately stalling, aren’t you, girl? You want to poke his temper. He’ll guess the truth about you then,” Beak predicted with a grin. “And after all the trouble I had telling him my lies.”

  “What lies?”

  “Told him you were a sweet, gentle maiden, I did.”

  “I am a sweet, gentle maiden,” Jamie countered.

  Beak snorted. “As sweet as the taste of soap when your temper’s riled.”

  “What else did you tell him?” Jamie asked, looking suspicious. “I’d better know the full of it, Beak, so I can defend myself.”

  “I told him you were timid.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “Said you were weak, used to be being coddled.”

  “No,”

  “And that you liked to spend your days sewing and churchgoing.”

  Jamie started to laugh. “Why would you tell such stories?”

  “Because I wanted to give you a little advantage,” Beak explained. His words fairly tripped over one another in his haste to hurry through the explanation. “I didn’t tell him you could speak Gaelic, either.”

  “Neither did I.”

  The two confidants exchanged a grin. Then Jamie asked, “You’re not sorry about all the skills you taught me, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Beak answered. “But if your husband thinks you’re puny, I figure he’ll be on his guard to see to your safety, lass. He’ll have more patience with you, to my way of thinking.”

  “I don’t care what he thinks about me,” Jamie returned. “My pride’s pricked because you made me out to be so inferior, though.”

  “Most women are inferior,” he countered.

  �
��Do most women hunt for their family’s supper? Do most ride their horses better than a warrior? Do most—”

  “Don’t turn hellion on me now,” Beak pleaded. “Just keep your talents to yourself for a while, Jamie. And don’t go testing him just yet. It’s best not to grab a wild dog by his tail unless you want the consequences, I always say.”

  “You’ve never said that before.”

  “Always meant to,” Beak answered. He gave another worried glance toward the drawbridge. “Get along now, Jamie.”

  “I’ve been storing this up for a long while, Beak, and I won’t be rushed.”

  “Well?” Beak demanded in a near shout.

  “I love you. I’ve never told you before, but I love you with all my heart. You’ve been a good father to me, Beak.”

  The bluster went out of the old man. His eyes misted with tears and his voice was strained when he whispered, “And I love you, Jamie. You’ve been a fine daughter to me. I’ve always considered you mine.”

  “Promise me you won’t forget me.”

  There was a frantic edge in her voice. Beak squeezed her hand. “I won’t forget.”

  Jamie nodded. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She brushed the wetness away, straightened her shoulders, and then nudged Wildfire into motion.

  Beak stood in the center of the courtyard, watching his mistress leave. He prayed she wouldn’t turn around. He didn’t want her to see him in such an undisciplined state.

  Heaven take mercy, he was weeping just like a man who’d lost his only child. In his heart he knew the truth: he was never going to see his baby again.

  Chapter Five

  Alec Kincaid was in a fine mood. He kept his smile and his pace restrained until his wife finally caught up with him. He wanted to laugh, for it was obvious to him that his naive bride had just tried to goad him into losing his temper. She took her own sweet time following after him. Jamie didn’t realize what a patient man he was, especially when the matter was as insignificant as a woman. He found humor in the very idea that a mere woman would dare to challenge him at all.

  As soon as he heard her approach, Alec increased his speed until both mounts were cantering. Jamie stayed right behind him, valiantly trying to ignore the dust flying up in her face. She was determined to keep up the inhuman, neck-breaking pace without uttering a word of protest. She also waited for her new husband to look back over his shoulder so he could see how well she was faring. She was going to give him a most serene expression, even if it killed her.

  Alec Kincaid never bothered to look back.

  Although Jamie was skilled, she wasn’t used to riding in the stiff new saddle. She was more comfortable riding bareback.

  Her backside and thighs were taking quite a pounding. The rocky, ill-tended north road made the beating all the more painful. Bushes barred the way and she had to dodge low-hanging branches while keeping firm control of her mount. She let her grimace show once she became convinced Alec wasn’t even aware she was behind him, then began to bargain with her Maker that she’d give him twenty daily masses in a row without daydreaming once if he’d only make her demon husband slow down a little.

  God wasn’t in a bargaining mood. Jamie came to that conclusion when they caught up with Daniel and Mary. Alec immediately took the lead, never once breaking stride. Jamie stayed behind her husband. Mary, looking as worn out as an old boot, trailed behind, with Daniel taking up the rear.

  Jamie knew it was for safety’s sake they rode at such a grueling pace. She’d heard the stories about the bands of roving misfits who preyed on unsuspecting victims. She guessed that one warrior protected the women from the front in the event of a surprise attack, while the other blocked the rear for just the same reason. If bandits did try to breach the foursome, they’d have to get through Alec or Daniel in order to reach their brides.

  Oh, she understood the reasons all right, but she was soon too worried about Mary to care.

  They’d ridden for almost two full hours before her sister finally broke down. Jamie was immensely proud of Mary because she’d been able to last so long without complaining. Mary wasn’t one to suffer discomfort of any sort.

  “Jamie? I want to stop for a few minutes,” Mary called out.

  “Nay, lass.”

  Daniel shouted the denial. Jamie couldn’t believe his callous attitude. She turned around just in time to see Mary’s husband emphasize his denial by shaking his head.

  The pained look on Mary’s face upset Jamie. She had turned to shout her own demand to Alec for a brief respite when she heard the shrill scream.

  When Jamie turned around again, she found Mary’s mount right behind her. Mary, however, was missing.

  Everyone stopped, even Alec Kincaid.

  Daniel reached his bride as Jamie and Alec had dismounted. Poor Mary was sprawled on her backside in the middle of a fat leafy bush. While Jamie dismounted, Daniel gently lifted Mary to her feet.

  “Are you hurt, lass?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.

  Mary brushed the hair out of her eyes before answering. “Only a little, milord,” she said.

  There were several leaves clinging to Mary’s hair. Daniel took his time pulling them free. Jamie saw the tender way he treated Mary and decided he had a few redeeming qualities, after all.

  “What the hell happened?” Alec asked from behind Jamie’s back.

  She jumped at the sound of his voice, then turned around to face him.

  “Mary fell off her horse.”

  “She what?”

  “She fell off her horse.”

  Alec looked as if he didn’t believe her. “She’s English, Alec, or have you forgotten?” Daniel called out.

  “What does that have to do with anything?” Jamie asked. She looked from one warrior to the other, then realized they were both trying not to smile.

  “She could have broken her neck,” Jamie muttered.

  “But she didn’t,” Alec answered.

  “She could have,” Jamie argued, infuriated by his cold attitude.

  “She’s all right now,” Daniel stated, drawing Jamie’s attention back to him. “Aren’t you, Mary?”

  “I’m fine,” Mary said, blushing at all the attention she was getting.

  “She is not fine,” Jamie announced. She turned back to Alec. He’d moved indecently close to her when she wasn’t noticing and she almost bumped into him. Jamie took a quick step back, yet still had to tilt her head all the way back just to look into his eyes.

  “Mary fell because . . .” Her voice trailed off. She’d just noticed the sprinkle of gold in his dark brown eyes. They were very appealing. She turned her gaze to his chest so she could regain her thoughts.

  “Because . . . ?” Alec asked.

  “Mary’s too exhausted to go on, milord. She must rest. She isn’t at all accustomed to riding such long distances.”

  “And you, English? Are you accustomed to riding such long distances?”

  Jamie shrugged. “My wants aren’t at issue here. Mary is more important. Surely you can see how tired she is. A few minutes won’t matter much to you.”

  She glanced up then, took in his expression, and wondered what she’d said to cause such a fierce frown.

  “Mary’s a gentle lady,” Jamie explained to his chest.

  “And you’re not?”

  “Yes, of course I am,” Jamie stammered. He was deliberately twisting her words around. “’Tis most unkind of you to suggest otherwise.”

  She glanced up at his face again just in time to catch his smile.

  She suddenly realized he wasn’t trying to be insulting. And he really was smiling at her, a sincere, tender smile that made her stomach feel as if it were full of sugar. She felt flooded with contentment.

  She didn’t know how to react.

  “Are you always so serious, wife?”

  The question sounded like a caress to her and had much the same effect as if he’d just brushed his hand across her heart.

  God’s truth, she w
as having an unusual reaction to this barbarian. Jamie decided she was just as exhausted as Mary was. Surely that was the reason Alec Kincaid was beginning to appeal to her. He was almost handsome now, in a raw, primitive way, of course. A lock of his hair had fallen on his forehead, giving him a rascal’s appearance. That was unfortunate, a worry as well, for Jamie always did have a liking for glib-tongued carefree rascals.

  Without a thought to the consequences, she reached up and brushed the errant lock back where it belonged. She didn’t want him to look like a rascal; she wanted him to stay mean-looking. Then her heart would surely quit pounding so loud in her ears and she’d be able to catch her breath, wouldn’t she?

  Alec didn’t move when she touched him, but he liked the feel of her hand on his forehead. The gentle ministration surprised him. He wanted her to touch him again. “Why did you do that?” he asked, his tone mild.

  “Your hair is too long,” Jamie answered, not daring to give him the truth.

  “It isn’t.”

  “You’ll have to cut it.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t trust a man whose hair is almost as long as mine,” she muttered.

  Her explanation sounded ridiculous to her. She blushed and frowned to cover her embarrassment.

  “I asked you if you were always so serious,” Alec reminded her with a grin.

  “You did?”

  Heaven help her, she couldn’t seem to keep her mind on the conversation. It was all his fault, of course, for smiling her thoughts right out of her mind.

  “I did.”

  Alec kept his amusement contained, for he guessed his bride would think he was laughing at her. For some reason he couldn’t explain, he didn’t want to harm her tender feelings. An odd reaction, he told himself, as he’d never been one to care overmuch for any woman’s feelings.

  He certainly cared now, he realized, even as he excused his behavior by reminding himself that she was English bred, after all, and therefore apt to be more skittish than a strong Highland lass.

  Jamie was wringing her hands. Alec doubted she was aware of that telling action. It was a sign of fear, yet she contradicted the weakness by valiantly meeting his gaze now. Her high cheekbones were tinged pink with embarrassment. He knew she had to be as exhausted as her sister was. Neither woman seemed to have much stamina. The pace he’d set had been rigorous but necessary, because as long as they were on English soil, they were in danger. Yet his new bride hadn’t complained or begged to stop, and that fact pleased him considerably. Gavin, Alec’s second-in-command, would say she had grit. It was a high compliment for a Highlander to give a woman, and one Jamie had already earned just by standing up to him.