Lord of the Isles

by Debbie Mazzuca

  But he had told her the truth. There would be no union with the MacLeans. Thrust into his world through no fault of her own, Aileanna was now his responsibility. He owed her his life, and would marry her to make up for al she had lost.

  "You might not want to say that too loud, Rory, or you'l have that priest after me again." Her throaty, contented laugh jerked him out of his unwelcome musings. Absently he kissed the tip of her nose. "Nay, I'l let no one harm you, Aileanna." Sliding his cock from her heated clasp, he ignored the sense of loss when he pul ed away from her. "'Tis time for you to rest."

  "Where are you going?" she murmured sleepily, reaching out to him when he rose from the bed.

  "'Tis best if yer no' found in my chambers come morn, at least until the betrothal is announced."

  Ali blinked. "What did you just say?" Her gaze focused on his face as she gathered the tangled sheets to her chest. He glanced up as he pul ed on his pants, addressing her as though she were a child. "The betrothal, Aileanna. Until'tis announced, it would be best if you slept in yer own room."

  Ali's heart thumped painful y against her rib cage. She clutched the sheets tighter. "Who . . . whose betrothal?"

  Rory quirked a brow. He gave her a puzzled look, then tossed her the crumpled shift from the floor. "Ours. Did you no'think I would marry you, after this?" He tipped his head toward the bed.

  "No, since you didn't ask and I didn't say yes," she sputtered, pul ing the nightgown over her head with jerky movements. Her chest constricted with the painful realiza tion that he only wanted to marry her because she'd slept with him. And he didn't even have the decency to propose, tel her he loved her, get down on his knee and offer her a ring. Oh no, his lordship simply assumed she would be thril ed to marry him. That she would bow to his commands like everyone else. Angry tears clogged her throat.

  "'Tis because of me you find yerself here, Aileanna. Yer my responsibility now, and I wil do right by you."

  "Oh, I see. You feel responsible for me because the fairies sent me to save your life, and because you refuse to send me back you've decided you have to marry me. Does that about cover it?" The suffocating tightness swirled higher in her chest. Beyond hurt, she was devastated. He would marry her, but not because he loved her. Ali couldn't bear to be just another responsibility to him, like everyone else in his clan. She wanted to be someone he could turn to in times of trouble, someone for him to lean on. She wanted al of him--heart, body, and soul.

  "Aye," he responded warily.

  She flung back the covers and swung her legs over the edge of the mattress. With a tight grip on the post, she awk wardly came to her feet.

  Rory stepped in front of her, his brow creased with concern. "What has gotten into you, Aileanna? You seem angry, lass."

  "Angry? You think I'm angry?" She tried to shove him out of her way, but the man was built like his damn moun tains and didn't budge.

  He crossed his arms over his bare chest, muscles rippling beneath his golden skin. "You wil tel me what has you in such a temper."

  "You." She poked the middle of his chest with her finger, blinking back tears. "I'm not marrying you, Rory MacLeod. Not now, not ever."

  He frowned. "I doona' understand you, Aileanna. Mayhap yer tired and we should talk aboot this on the morrow."

  "No, there's no need. I've made up my mind. I'm not marrying you."

  "Did you no' tel me you loved me? Did we no' just make love?"

  "What does that have to do with anything?" she ground out between clenched teeth. The pain in her foot was now as intense as the pain in her heart.

  "I doona' ken how things work in yer time, lass, but in mine, when a woman and a man make love, speak words of love, they wed."

  "Is that right? So the only person you ever made love to besides me was Brianna?" She'd heard al about his prowess with the ladies, whether she had wanted to or not. For some ridiculous reason his clansmen were as proud of their laird's reputation in the bedroom as on the battlefield.

  The man was a legend. Let's see him talk himself out of this one, she thought.

  "'Tis no' the point," he grumbled. "I bedded you, I'l wed you."

  Ali's hand clenched into a fist, itching to strike the arrogant look from his face. "In my time, it doesn't matter, so you're off the hook. Marry Moira MacLean. I know you, Rory MacLeod. It's kil ing you to give up on a union you think wil save your clan. Just do it. I don't have any thing to offer you."

  He shuttered the emotion in his eyes, and Ali's stomach lurched. She was right. He'd marry her, but at what cost? He'd resent her. She would be the reason there could be no al iance between the MacLeans and the MacLeods.

  "There wil be no union with the MacLeans. You and I wil wed. 'Tis the end of the discussion." He lifted her easily into his arms and strode to the door, jaw set. Ali wanted to fight him, to leap from his arms, but he was too strong, and she was too sore, too tired, too devastated by the turn of events.

  Once they were inside her chambers and Rory had placed her careful y on the bed, he looked down at her, running his fingers through his hair. "I doona' understand you, Aileanna, but I tel you we wil wed." She could hear the steel in his voice.

  "No . . . we won't." Ali thumped her pil ow and turned her back to him.

  "Yer bloody stubborn, lass," he grumbled. She heard his frustrated sigh as he padded across the floor. There was a clunk, like he threw something, and then the sound of the fire roaring to life. The smoky smel of peat perme ated the room.

  The bed dipped when he sat at her side. He stroked her back and she was barely able to contain her shiver at his gentle touch. "Wil you no' tel me why yer fashed, Aileanna?"

  She shook her head, misery twisting her insides. Rory blew out a ragged breath. He leaned over her to kiss her forehead. "We'l talk on the morrow, Aileanna, but mark my words. You wil be my wife." Chapter 18

  Arms crossed, Ali watched from the bed while Mrs. Mac flitted about her room, doing her best to ignore her. Unable to bear the frigid silence any longer, Ali asked, "Are you never going to speak to me again?"

  Mrs. Mac avoided meeting her eyes. Hands on her wel rounded hips, she surveyed the room. "Och, now, I'm busy is al ."

  "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings, Mrs. Mac. I didn't know what else to do," she offered quietly. The older woman nodded. "I ken how you felt, but 'twas hard you tryin' to leave without a good-bye. I . . . we thought you cared for us a wee bit, you ken."

  "I do, and I don't think any of you understand how hard it was for me to think of leaving you al ." Ali blinked back tears at the memory of just how difficult it had been. None of them knew how much they'd come to mean to her.

  "Och, wel , yer here for good now. Al wil be as it should be," Mrs. Mac stated succinctly. Ali narrowed her gaze on her. "What's that supposed to mean?" If Mrs. Mac thought she was marrying Rory any time soon, Ali planned on setting her straight.

  "'Tis like I said. The fairies meant you fer our laird, and'tis how it wil be. He'l no' marry Moira MacLean now."

  "He's no' marrying me either. I mean not . . . I'm not marrying him--no matter what he thinks."

  A wide grin split Mrs. Mac's lined face. "Ah, so he came to his senses and asked, did he?"

  "No." Ali scowled. "He didn't ask--he told me. But I won't marry him, Mrs. Mac, so you can wipe that sil y grin off your face." She flung back the covers in an attempt to get out of bed.

  "Och, no you don't. Yer to stay in bed. You need yer rest.

  'Tis what the laird has ordered."

  "He's the bossiest, most aggravating man I've ever met,"

  Ali said, flopping onto the pil ows.

  "Aye, he is, but he'l make you a good husband, of that I'm certain."

  "Yes, if al you want is someone to protect and take care of you."

  Mrs. Mac frowned, making herself comfortable on the side of the bed. "You doona' want someone to look out fer you?"

  "Of course I do, but he only wants to marry me because of those damn fairies. He feels responsible for me, guilt
y about what happened. But in the end he'l resent me, Mrs. Mac, for his not being able to marry Moira. The welfare of the clan is more important to him than anything else."

  "Ah, I see the way of it. You want his love, to hold his heart."

  "Aye--oh for God's sake, yes, that's what I want."

  Mrs. Mac stood and gave a reassuring pat to Ali's leg.

  "Take it from a woman who kens the lad wel --he loves you, Lady Aileanna, of that I'm certain. I ken what yer sayin', but you'l see, everythin' has a way of workin' itself out."

  Ali wanted to believe Mrs. Mac, she real y did. She knew Rory loved her, but not enough. He only wanted to marry her out of a sense of obligation, and for her that was no reason.

  "If yer wantin' a bath, I'l have Connor get started on it. Och, I almost forgot to tel you--Mari and Connor ken about the fairies and who you'd be."

  Ali's eyes widened. "How? Who told them?"

  "'Twas no' that someone told them exactly. When the laird brought you to his room they fol owed us in, worryin'aboot you, they were. They overheard Iain tryin' to explain to the laird what happened. No one realized they were there until it was too late. But doona' fash yerself, they'l no' be tel in' anyone. They ken it would be dangerous fer you if word got out."

  Mrs. Mac, Connor, and Mari stared at her in openmouthed astonishment. Face flushed, Ali blew out an exas perated breath. So maybe she'd let her temper get the better of her, but she couldn't stand being in bed any longer. Or to listen to the three of them insist she had to fol ow the laird's orders. She wasn't dying, she had a sprained ankle for God's sake, and it felt much better, at least good enough for her to go out and get a breath of fresh air.

  "The laird wil be none too pleased with you, Lady Aileanna," Mrs. Mac warned as Ali hobbled toward her chamber door.

  "I'm sure I'l hear about it." If Ali was honest, she'd admit at least some of her anger was due to the fact Rory hadn't bothered to check on her himself. It was late afternoon and the man hadn't come near her. Yesterday he'd made love to her, told her they would marry, and yet today he couldn't spare her a single minute of his time. Just thinking about it made her mad.

  "He's a wee bit busy, so mayhap you'l be lucky and he'l no' ken what yer aboot."

  Ali harrumphed. "Busy playing his war games, is he?"

  "'Tis no game, or won't be. Laird Aidan arrived back early this morn from escortin' the MacLeans home. He brought word the MacDonalds are on the move. The laird's been shut in his study most of the morn, and the men are gatherin' in the hal ." At this point Mrs. Mac avoided her eyes, and Ali's heart pinched.

  "They're going to pressure him to marry Moira, aren't they?" She wasn't prepared for the wave of utter despair that washed over her. No matter that she had told him to go through with the betrothal herself, she didn't think she could bear it if he did.

  "Aye, some do, but he wil na' do it. He's promised himself to you, and he'd no' go back on his word."

  "And when men die in the battle, I'l be the one they blame." There was no way around it; she lost either way. The three of them looked at one another, obviously unable to dispute the truth of what she said. When she opened the door, Ali was met by the sound of men's voices raised in anger. Taking a steadying breath, she limped from the room.

  "If you have yer mind set, my lady, Connor wil accompany you. Mari, we must see to Laird Aidan's room. He'l be here for a wee while I'm thinkin'."

  Ali closed her hand over the smooth wood of the banister and Connor took a light hold of her arm as they slowly made their way down the stairs.

  "Why wil ye no' just wed Lady MacLean?" yel ed a man in the hal .

  Ali cringed, and Connor tightened his grip on her elbow.

  "Aye . . . Aye." The words repeated over and over again until Ali thought it would never end. She heard Rory's deep voice rumble over the gathered crowd. "I canna' do it. I'm marryin' Lady Aileanna."

  Ali closed her eyes and slowly released the breathshe hadn't realized she held. Aside from the fact he'd just announced they would marry, and didn't seem too con cerned she had told him they wouldn't, she was relieved. Happy he hadn't al owed his men to force him into a union with Moira MacLean.

  Silence met his announcement until someone shouted in disgust, "Ye risk our lives to wed a thief."

  Grumbles of discontent fol owed.

  Trembling with anger, Ali stepped careful y off the bottom stair. How dare they question him after al he'd done for them? The man spent every waking hour seeing to their needs, their wel -being. She caught a glimpse of Rory in his plaid, towering above them on the dais. The man took her breath away. He was magnificent, and she couldn't help but wonder if it was true that highlanders wore nothing beneath their kilts. Watching him standing there, powerful and in command, she knew she wanted to find out. Aidan, Fergus, and Iain stood with him. Rory laid a hand on his brother's arm to stop him from the protest he appeared ready to deliver. With a brief shake of his head, Rory looked down at the crowd. "Lady Aileanna is no thief. She thought to protect the flag from the MacLeans is al . Misguided she may have been, but nothing more. You condemn her, Donald, but I seem to recal you'd no'have yer leg if no' fer her."

  "Aye, and 'tis on account of the magik she wields as a witch that she heals as she does," someone shouted from the back of the hal . Several more chimed in, their ayes re verberating off the stone wal s.

  Connor tugged on her arm. "Mayhap it would be best if ye went back to yer room, my lady."

  Ali shook her head. It was difficult to hear what they said, but she needed to know how the clan felt about her. She edged closer to the entrance of the hal . Rory must have sensed her presence and their eyes met across the room. He held her gaze with his and said, "I wil na' have Lady Aileanna's name besmirched. She wil soon be the lady of Dunvegan, and wil be treated as such, or you'l answer to me."

  "But . . . but what does she bring to us?"

  She saw the glint in his eyes and the slight curve of his sensual lips. "'Tis no' what she brings to the clan, but what she brings to me that I'm thinkin' on."

  Ribald laughter greeted his remark and some of the tension in the hal dissipated. Ali rol ed her eyes and he winked at her, causing a heated flutter in her bel y. Then he drew his gaze from hers and returned his attention to his men. A part of her wanted to believe what they shared would one day take precedence over al else, but she knew with a man like Rory, it would never happen.

  "Connor, if you don't mind I'd like to go down by the loch." She kept her voice low so no one would realize she'd been there, but she needn't have bothered. Already talk of the upcoming battle drew their attention.

  "Aye, we can try to manage it if ye'd like, my lady."

  Rory swung his legs over the ledge of boulders onto the stone beach of the loch, fighting a smile when he spotted Aileanna. Like a sea nymph washed up on shore, the sunbeams danced in the waves of her long hair. She leaned against a rock with her gown hiked to her knees, her feet in the water.

  "I'm certain I told Mrs. Mac to keep you in yer bed fer the day," he grumbled as he came to stand over her. Her eyes fluttered open and a slight smile curved her lips. "You did, but you should know by now I don't fol ow orders very wel ."

  "Aye, I see that." Rory crouched beside her and took her injured foot in his hand. "It doesna' look as bad as it did."

  With a light touch, he traced the bruises.

  "The water's cold. It helps with the swel ing." She squirmed when he trailed his fingers farther up her long leg, and a soft sound of pleasure escaped her parted lips. Lowering her foot, he came to sit at her side and bent his head to claim her mouth. She curled her fingers around his neck, deepening their kiss. The scent of her sun-warmed skin and the feel of her lush curves enveloped him. Cupping her face with his hand, he tilted her head and delved deeper with his tongue, tasting her sweetness. He wanted to devour her, to take her away and never let her go, just the two of them--no battle looming over their heads, no clan who depended on him for their every need. But just the thought
of those demands was enough to make him pul away from her.

  He rested his forehead against hers. "If yer no' careful I'l have you on yer back down here by the loch."

  Her long fingers stroked him beneath his plaid. His cock, as stiff and hard as the rock at her back, jerked at her delicate touch.

  "Grass . . . in the grass would be better," she said in a husky voice.

  "Aye, and to be sure it would give the clan somethin'more to talk aboot."

  "Right . . . I . . . uh . . . forgot."

  He groaned as she released him, then nibbled at her neck. "Why doona' I take you to yer room and we can con tinue this there?"

  "Is that your subtle way of getting me to stay in bed?"

  "Aye, would it work?" He brushed the hair from her beautiful, flushed face.

  "It would," she said, running the pad of her thumb over his mouth. "But could we stay here for a little while longer? It seems a shame to miss out on such a beautiful day."

  "Aye. The loch brings out the best in you, lass. Yer in a much better mood. Mayhap we should set you up down here."

  Aileanna pul ed a face. "Very funny. Almost as funny as what you did in the hal ."

  Rory grinned. "What did I do in the hal ?"

  She rol ed her eyes. "Oh, I don't know--maybe your little announcement that we were getting married, even though I told you we weren't." She tapped his chest. Laughing, Rory brought her finger to his lips. "You ken you want to marry me, mo chridhe, yer just too stubborn to admit it."

  "Stubborn? This has nothing to do with me being stubborn. I won't marry you, Rory. I don't want a husband who married me because he felt he had no choice, who felt he was responsible for me." She shook her head. "What kind of marriage would that be?"

  "Better than most," he commented dryly. Rory looked out over the shimmering waters of the loch before he turned to her. "You want me to wed Moira then, is that what yer tel in' me?"