The Highlander’s Stolen Bride_Book Two_The Sutherland Legacy

by Eliza Knight

  “The story of how ye met,” Lorna filled in.

  “Ah, aye, ’tis.” He winked at her.

  “Why don’t you tell it?” Eva challenged him.

  Strath’s eyes sparkled with mirth as if to say, I deserve that. “All right then, I shall share it.”

  “Please, do.” Eva poured him a cup of wine and they all served themselves from the trenchers.

  “The long and complicated part of the story is that the Bruce sent me to England. The interesting part is that while there, I came across a lass in need of saving.”

  “Oh, that’s so romantic,” Isobel said, pressing her hands to her heart and glancing over at Eva with fascination.

  Is that how he saw it? That he was saving her? Because that is exactly how it felt. And heaven help her, she’d let him save her every day for the rest of her life, even if he laughed at the idea of marrying her. That was how she knew for certain she was in trouble of falling hard.

  “Why was she in need of saving?” Jamie asked.

  Eva sat just as captivated but also a little scared. Was he going to tell them she’d been about to wed Belfinch?

  “An evil bastard had dragged her to the aisle and was preparing to force his will upon her by claiming her as his bride.” He glanced at her, his grin widening. “And she begged me to take her away from the land of heathens. So here we are.”

  Eva nearly choked on a bite of cheese at that last part. The land of heathens? That’s what she’d called Scotland, and now he’d turned it around and called England thusly. Oh, the rascal…

  “Well, ’tis good to see ye’ve been able to find love once more,” Lorna said to Strath.

  Now it was Strath’s turn to choke. Tomaidh gave him a hard slap on his back and winked at Eva.

  Love… Nay, it wasn’t that. Not quite… Was it?

  Isobel leaned close. “Ye’re much better than his last betrothed.” There was a murmur of agreement among those at the table.

  “We’re not betrothed,” Eva tried to explain, her voice sounding breathy at even the thought of love and marriage all mixed up with her name and his.

  “Not officially,” Isobel said.

  “Nay, not at all,” she insisted.

  At that, the table went quiet as everyone stared at Strath.

  “Ye canna be serious,” Jamie said, hard eyes on his nephew. “Ye’d best not be taking advantage of Lady Eva, lad.”

  “I promise ye, on the contrary,” Strath said. “I’ve made it verra clear that she’s not to take advantage of me.”

  Chapter Nine

  Strath was in trouble.

  He knew it the moment he watched his uncle kiss Eva’s hand when they’d entered the castle. Perhaps he’d known it before then, too, when he’d nearly kissed her in the bailey. The feel of her warm body against his, the look of passion and courage in her eyes, the little flick of her tempting tongue as she tried to regain her sense.

  The stable master interrupting had been irritating but necessary, and when she’d disappeared in the kitchens, he’d hoped the time away would give him a chance to cool down, a chance to get his head back in the right place.

  But it hadn’t been enough. In fact, the separation had only heightened his awareness of her. Everybody that ducked beneath the kitchen doorway had his anticipation perking to see if it was her, and then plummeting when he realized it wasn’t.

  There had never been another woman that had captivated him the way Eva did. Which made his interest in her dangerous. He’d learned the hard way with Jean what it meant to completely trust a woman. But this wasn’t just simple desire. This was something compounded and infinitely more complicated.

  And so he’d devised a test, one he was certain she would fail.

  When he’d recklessly tapped his foot against hers under the table, he’d expected her to pull away. If not for propriety’s sake, but because she thought it was an accident. But she’d not. Their feet had remained touching for the entire meal. Their gazes had met over the table, and the sensual tension between the two of them could not have been severed even with the sharpest of swords. His entire body was on fire.

  And when she’d played along with his jest about not taking advantage of him, he’d wanted to swipe the table of its contents, reach across, and kiss her. The desire to do so had been swift and intense, and it had taken every ounce of willpower he had to finish their meal and not do just that. Not lay claim to her. Not crush her to him and ravish her.

  The meal lasted another tortuous hour or so, and it was now well and truly the middle of the night. Thankfully, Lorna and Isobel showed Eva upstairs to a chamber, his aunt pausing to give him the eye when he automatically followed. What was he about to do? Tuck the lass into bed? He’d grown so accustomed to sleeping beside her he’d followed without a thought. Dammit!

  Instead, he whirled around and followed his uncle to his study. Despite being exhausted, it was imperative they speak before he sank into a mattress. And Lord knew, he needed the distraction.

  “Whisky?” Uncle Jamie asked.

  “Aye.”

  He poured them each a dram while Strath went to the window and peeled back a corner of the skin that covered it to peer outside. Nothing seemed amiss. Men walked the wall, the roads were still deserted. There were no unusual sounds. Even the weather appeared to be cooperating.

  Jamie handed him the cup, and they clinked them together, each saying, “Sláinte,” before they swallowed the contents.

  Strath relished the burn of spirits sliding down his throat. But one dram didn’t dull the buzzing in his veins, nor the restless energy he felt.

  “Another?” his uncle asked.

  Hell aye, he wanted another. But drinking himself into oblivion wouldn’t help. In fact, it might make it worse. It might make the idea of finding out where Eva’s bedchamber was make sense. And if he made it that far, kissing her was a definite. So in spite of his desire for another, he declined. “Nay, I thank ye.”

  Jamie raised a brow but said nothing. He took Strath’s empty cup and set them both on the sideboard, then leaned against it and crossed his arms over his chest. “Tell me, lad, what has brought ye to Montgomery lands?”

  “We’ve been traveling over a week from the north of England, Northwyck.” He told his uncle of the Bruce’s order for him to find and contain Belfinch and what had happened when he’d arrived. How the lady had offered herself up in her father’s place. But kept to himself the king’s directive to find out about her. He showed his uncle the key he’d taken from Belfinch and they both speculated on what it could be for, each of them determining it had to be for some sort of treasury.

  “Belfinch is the bastard who was forcing Lady Eva to wed?”

  “Aye.” Strath shook his head. This was going to be the hard part. “Turns out her father has been funding Belfinch’s dealings. I’m not certain of their arrangement, but from what I gather, it appears that Northwyck may have been coerced somehow.”

  Jamie gritted his teeth. “Even still, ye’ve no proof of that for certain. Can she be trusted?”

  Strath rubbed at the tension in the back of his neck. “Aye. She’s a good lass with a big heart, and when I told her some of what Belfinch had been up to with her father’s coin, she was devastated.”

  “She does seem to be a sweet lass. And I’d never have guessed that she was at all connected to anyone such as Belfinch. She reminds me of your aunt.” A nostalgic smile crossed his face.

  “Which part? Her willfulness?”

  Jamie chuckled. “The sweetness, too.”

  An image of Eva flashed before Strath’s mind. God, how he wanted to protect her. “Aye. She would have been crushed under that whoreson’s boot. And I think part of her nature was already stifled by her father’s dealings.”

  “How much of it did she know?”

  “Not much. Nothing more than what I’ve told ye. I am under the impression her father was keeping a lot from her.”

  “That wouldna be unusual. Isobel doesna kno
w much of what I deal with behind closed doors.”

  “Aye. And from what I gather, she wouldna have approved.”

  “Explain.”

  “The lass was overwhelmed, brought to tears when I made her see one of the burned out villages. She may be English, but she cares for all people. She also mentioned she used to take great care of those in her own village, even when they started to distance themselves from her.”

  “Aye. So what are ye going to do?”

  “Belfinch should be traveling north by now, to Dornoch. And I intend to meet him there with my army.”

  “We’ll keep an eye out for him here as he crosses. But what if he doesna make it all the way?”

  “Ye mean, what if he’s attacked on the road?”

  “Aye. We can arrange that to happen, if ye like. Happens to bastards all the time.” Jamie winked.

  “While ordinarily I’d join ye in seeing his blood run into the earth, I dinna know how many men he’ll be traveling with. Additionally, his fighting tactics will not be fair. Best if your scouts can send word north when he passes. I’d not want ye to be involved should it turn ugly.”

  “Have no doubt, lad, it will be ugly. Ye want him to go that far north? Are ye not worried about any damage he might cause on the way?”

  “I am hoping he will stick to our bargain. That her father will reason with the man and keep him in line.”

  Jamie shook his head. “I think counting on a man as vile as ye say he is will prove to be a problem. As of yet, her father has done nothing.”

  Strath nodded, irritated, even though he knew his uncle was right. This mission had been risky from the beginning. Changing tactics midway had not been the best idea, though he had the best of intentions. It reminded him of another time altogether.

  Negative thoughts came crashing into him swiftly. This was the second time in less than a year that he’d led danger to his family’s doorstep, albeit unknowingly the first time.

  Both times a woman had been involved.

  “I canna ask ye to join in my mission, uncle. To endanger yourself and your men.” He gritted his teeth. “But ye are right. I canna allow him to go farther north. Will ye keep the lass safe while I take my men to meet Belfinch on the road?”

  Jamie shook his head. “Strath, ye’re like a son to me. Lorna would have my head if I agreed.”

  Disappointment flooded Strath’s veins. “I see. I’ll send Eva with an escort north to my castle in Dornoch and leave at once with my men. Forgive me for bringing danger here.”

  Jamie narrowed his eyes. “Ye misunderstand. I canna allow ye to go off and find this bastard, and most certainly not alone. I invite ye to stay here. To give him time to come to us. We’ll send out scouts. Maybe even leave him clues to come this way. Either way, the bastard will not be a problem long. And then when it is over, ye can take the lass north to Dornoch yourself.”

  Take Eva north after dealing with Belfinch? Was that even possible? But he wasn’t going to argue with his uncle about it now. When the time came, he’d explain that despite what it appeared, Eva was not going to remain in Scotland. She had to go home to her own family, her people. Rebuild the life that her father had nearly destroyed and find a man stronger than himself to marry. But even the thought of her marrying someone else sent a hot wave of jealousy through his gut.

  He cleared his throat. “Thank ye. I will owe ye much.”

  Jamie clasped his hand on Strath’s shoulder. “Ye will owe me nothing. But ye will owe the lass your honor.”

  “What?”

  “Marry her.”

  Strath shook his head. “I’m nae certain she’ll have me.”

  Jamie chuckled. “Dinna be blind to what’s in front of ye. Or to the truth.”

  “Mayhap there is a better man out there for her than me.” Strath shrugged, uncertain how to explain to his uncle that he couldn’t very well marry the woman when she might be an enemy to Scotland.

  “Aye, ’haps. But ye know what? What could be better than a man who will love her as much as ye will? One who will protect her with their life? Can ye say there is another man out there who would be more willing to spend the rest of his days proving that to her as much as ye would? If ye can answer aye, then ye’re right, she is not the one. The love of a good woman is a special gift. One worth fighting for.”

  Strath ran a hand through his hair. If he were so lucky as to be connected to a woman like her, he would indeed show her every day for the rest of their lives that he was deserving of her. And nay, he didn’t believe there was anyone else out there good enough for her, not even himself, but he’d be damned if he would ever let her down.

  “Ye know who told me that?” Jamie asked, refilling their cups with whisky.

  “Who?”

  He chuckled. “Your da.”

  Strath drank to that. “He’s a wise man.”

  “Aye. And he believes in ye. Dinna forget it.”

  “I have disappointed him much lately.”

  “Only in your own eyes. If ye’re speaking about your betrothal, and the eh…incident…dinna fash. He never blamed ye.”

  “I could have stopped the attack from even happening, or at least been there to help fight off the men.”

  Strath thought back on all that had happened. The clues he’d just been too stubborn or too stupid to see. Or perhaps he had and that was why he’d insisted on the one year handfast before pledging themselves fully in matrimony. The lack of emotion in Jean’s eyes whenever he lay with her had been a sign. The overly friendly way she behaved with her personal guard. Luckily, the incident hadn’t caused his people at Dornoch to lose respect, nor his father’s men at Sutherland.

  Jamie shrugged. “Mayhap. Mayhap not. No one would have believed the Guinn capable of attacking your father, and he did, proving their alliance was not a strong one. The truth came out, showed your father who he could trust.”

  His uncle had a point there. “’Haps.”

  “In any case, there is no use in worrying over it. Ye’re a great warrior. A great man. And worthy of respect. Your people trust ye, and so does your da. Your whole family. Mistakes happen. But I tell ye what, King Robert would not have sent ye on a mission if he didna trust that ye could complete it.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Believe it.”

  Strath nodded. “I will.”

  “Good. Now, let us prepare for Belfinch’s arrival. The sooner we deal with this bastard, the sooner ye can tell the lass ye love her.”

  “I dinna…” His voice trailed off, because even as he was denying it, Strath knew it for a fact—he did love her.

  Holy shite.

  He loved her.

  If there’d been time to lose his mind over that realization, he would have, but instead, he had to concentrate. And so thoughts of Eva and love had to be put aside.

  They worked into the night, rousing the steward, Tomaidh, and Jamie’s master of the gate to make lists and plans. When the sun rose on the horizon, they slept for a few hours, but only after sending out scouts to spot Belfinch and leave clues as to where he should head. This had involved convincing a maid to go into Eva’s room while she slept to take out her gown, which was then torn into pieces to be left scattered along the road. A trail of fine wool would lead straight to Glasgow Castle.

  The trap was set, now Belfinch just needed to fall into it.

  A banging on his door had Strath sitting upright in bed, the cobwebs of sleep instantly clear. Having slept fully dressed in case this happened, he rushed to the door and tugged it open, prepared to hear the battle was soon to begin.

  But instead, he was met by an incensed Eva, arms crossed over her breasts, made more visible by the impossibly ill-fitting gown she wore that looked to be that of a servant’s. “What have you done with my gown?”

  “What?” He raked his gaze over her form and his body instantly hardened. With an arm overhead on the doorframe, he leaned against it casually, trying hard not to grin too much like fool.
/>   “Don’t play dumb with me, you heathen. The maid told me you stole it. Was your purpose to have me parade around in my chemise all day, or to keep me locked in my chamber?” Her hands flew to her hips, and she pursed her lips as though she were preparing to give him a tongue lashing—and not the kind he preferred.

  A night of sleep had not lessened his desire for her. Strath perused her form, wishing she were indeed wearing only a chemise. A well-worn one that allowed him to see just the faintest outline of what he was certain were flawless, creamy curves. Dark curls at the apex of her thighs—or nay, they’d be light. Golden as the hair on her head and just as fine.

  Ballocks—he was growing hard as stone.

  Trying to distract his growing desire, he cleared his throat and asked, “Where did ye get that getup?”

  She opened her mouth and then shut it again, looking perplexed, as though she’d not been prepared for his question. “My maid. In her distress at having allowed you to steal my own, she let me borrow it.”

  “It fits ye…well.”

  That was an exaggeration. The fabric clung to her breasts, which were bigger than the maid’s, but pooled around her feet, as she was obviously much shorter than the original wearer.

  “Oh, please do not try to distract me with flatteries. It will not work. I’m irritated with you, and I don’t find your jest to have been funny. Give me back my gown.”

  “I canna, and it was no jest, lass.”

  “What? Why? Explain.”

  “I dinna have it.” He shrugged. That was the simple truth.

  “Where is it?”

  “Likely strewn about the Lowlands.”

  Indignation rippled across her features. “Strewn about the Lowlands? What the devil does that mean? Is this some form of torture?”

  “Nay, nay.” He wanted to reach for her, to pull her into his arms, and say he wasn’t torturing her the way she was torturing him. Instead, he forced his arms to remain where they were and gave her a truthful explanation. “We tore it up, and I sent scouts about the land to leave it in specific places.”