“Harsh? I believe the word is arrogant. Or perhaps overbearing. Maybe even high-handed. Also pigheaded, bossy, and opinionated.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.
A sheepish look crossed his face, and he walked slowly to where she sat. As he got closer to the bed, he didn’t appear to be stopping, so she backed up against the headboard. He climbed onto the bed and joined her, taking her hand in his, linking their fingers.
Raising her hand to his lips, he kissed her softly on her knuckles and said, “Mistress Katie Stirling, will ye do me the great honor of becoming my wife?”
She should say nay. She should say she would like to think it over. She should say she wanted to talk about what would come next. She should climb off the bed and leave him sitting there. Instead, she left the bed but turned and stared at him.
“What about my clan. Am I to stay here as land steward when you leave and have a marriage in name only? Or am I to abandon my clan after I dragged them all here?”
He drew back, his brows raised. “Nay. Ye and yer brother will come with me and Alasdair back to Argyll. I need a wife to help run my household. Yer clan can take care of itself.”
She skipped over that last remark and jumped on the first. “Ah, so the only reason yer offering marriage is to gain a nonpaid employee.”
“Ach, lass. Ye ken that’s not the reason.”
“What is, then?”
He ran his palm down his face. “We get on verra well. Ye are bonnie, smart, funny, and have a great deal of loyalty in ye.”
“And?” Would he confess his feelings for her? Did he have the sort of feelings she had always wanted if she succumbed to marriage? On the other hand, what of her feelings for him?
“And I care for ye, lass. I willnae lie and say I love ye. We haven’t kenned each other long enough.”
“What about yer arrogance?” She rested her hands on her hips and tapped her foot.
The daft man actually looked confused. “What?”
She moved closer and poked him in the chest. “Ye have a way about ye that makes everything ye say sound like an order.”
“Aye. That’s because everything I say is an order.”
She threw up her hands and invoked the powers above to give her patience. “I will not be ordered about like a servant. I have managed my clan for years.”
Evan studied her for a minute. “Aye. I will not order ye about like a servant.” He took her hand in his. “Aye or nay, lass?”
Why would she say nay? Marrying Evan would be the perfect detriment to Richard pursuing his claim about their so-called betrothal. She knew in her heart that Evan would protect Gavin and be a wonderful father-figure for him.
When he wasn’t blustering about, Evan was a kind, considerate, man. He was intelligent, verra nice looking, and if last night was an example of what she could expect from the marriage bed, well, that would be just fine.
Although she still had her doubts, she said, “Aye.”
“’Twill be an interesting marriage we will have.” He pulled her back down to the bed and placed his knuckle under her chin. Her eyes slid closed as he touched his warm lips to hers.
Another knock on the door made them spring apart. Katie scooted off the bed and shook her skirts out. “Ye need to leave,” she whispered. “’Twill be a disgrace if yer found in my bedchamber.”
Before Evan swung his legs over the side of the mattress, the door opened and Gavin stuck his head in. “Where were you?” He rushed to Katie’s side, either ignoring or not seeing Evan, who stood and made a quick exit while the lad was busy hugging her.
“I’m sorry if ye were frightened. The laird and I made some calls yesterday to find cottages for all the families who have arrived.” She knelt down to look into his face. “We were forced to spend the night in one of the cottages because of the terrible storm that struck last night. Did you hear it?”
“Aye, I did.” Gavin reached out and touched Katie’s hair. “I ken ye are afraid of the storms. Did Laird MacNeil keep ye from being scared?”
Katie smiled. “Aye. He was verra distracting.” No need to tell the boy how Evan had kept her distracted. She stood and drew him forward. They both sat on the bed. “There is something I need to tell ye.”
“What?” He looked up at her with his childish innocence, convincing her even more how right it was that she marry Evan. He would take them far away, and Richard would never get his hands on her beloved brother.
“Laird MacNeil and I are to be married.”
…
Evan spent almost the entire morning convincing the local minister to marry them the next day. The man had met them both when they had attended services since their arrival but didn’t know them very well. The minister attempted to persuade Evan to have the banns called for three weeks rather than a rushed wedding the next day.
Reverend MacDuff argued that since Evan and Katie had known each other such a short time, perhaps they would be better served by having a month or so to think it over. His reluctance had abruptly ended when Evan hinted that they had already anticipated the vows.
The rest of the day was taken up with making inquiries on a replacement for Katie as land steward when they left. It was his intention to hire someone quickly, get the rest of Katie’s clan settled, and then he, Katie, Gavin, and Alasdair would be on their way to Argyll. Winter loomed on the horizon, and he did not want to be in Fife—or on the way home—when it hit.
He interviewed two men who seemed bright enough to handle the job, and one of them was married, so Evan decided to hire Ian MacDuff. His wife could deal with the castle while he tended to the estate. Evan was confident they would do well. They had lived on the lands since birth and were kin to just about everyone for miles around.
It was nearing the supper hour when the couple he had hired departed the library, chatting excitedly about the job and their opportunity to reside in the castle. Evan tidied up the desk, quite pleased with his day’s work. So far, things were moving along reasonably well.
Until Katie knocked on the library door.
He was halfway across the room to find his brother so they could go over a few details about their departure while they ate their supper. He reached the door and opened it to find a surprised Katie on the other side, her fist still raised. “Oh.”
Her plump lips formed a perfect circle, bringing to mind what she could do with that lovely mouth of hers. He immediately considered pulling her into the library and locking the door so he could have his way with her. He grinned to himself. He would indulge one appetite before assuaging another.
He pulled her to him and was quite surprised when she placed her wee hands on his chest and pushed him away. Not that she could move him—he was much too large—but he let her go anyway. “What is it, lass?”
Katie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smoothed the front of her skirts, and looked up at him, her eyes snapping, her wee chin raised in the air. “I would have a word with ye, my laird.”
Evan didn’t know whether to groan or laugh. Deciding it would be in his best interest to do neither, he merely smiled. “And what would those words be?”
She swept past him like the queen and walked to the large wooden desk in the center of the room. She turned and regarded him with her arms crossed under her breasts. When she noticed his grin at where his eyes had landed, she huffed and dropped her arms to her side. “I just came from the kitchen.”
Since that was not a question, Evan felt no need to respond, but he did grant her the courtesy of raising his eyes up to her face.
“Cook tells me she is preparing a wedding breakfast for tomorrow morning.” Her foot began to tap a cadence on the floor.
“Aye.” Was the lass annoyed because he had taken it upon himself to instruct Mrs. MacDuff to begin her preparations? Perhaps he should have consulted with Katie first, allowing her to
choose the menu. He had been passing through the kitchen on his way out the back door and thought it wise to take care of that matter. He had not seen Katie since he’d left her bedchamber that morning.
He had assumed she was speaking with her brother and doing whatever it was lasses did when they were about to be married. Weren’t there matters to tend to, like choosing a gown, rustling up some flowers, and chattering with the other women who would be verra interested in a wedding?
“I would like to ken who is being married that we require a wedding breakfast.” She stopped, and her eyes narrowed to slits. “Tomorrow.”
Evan ran his hand down his face. It appeared the lass was upset, and he didn’t have time to deal with female hysteria. On the other hand, if he wanted all to run without problems or difficulties so he could depart from Fife as quickly as possible, ’twould be wise for him to smooth her ruffled feathers.
“Now, Katie, darlin’, ye ken ’tis ye and I getting married. I was able to get the minister to perform the ceremony tomorrow.”
“Is that so? How verra interesting. And why would ye think I want to get married tomorrow?”
Evan stifled the laughter that was trying so hard to escape. Among his clansmen, he was known as a fair but powerful laird. No one had ever bested him in a fight, and he was renowned for his prowess. Grown men were known to shake in their boots in a confrontation with their laird. Yet this wee slip of a lass stood up to him as if she were twice his size.
“Katie, we’ve been over this. We need to marry. I have compromised ye. Ye could be carrying my bairn right now.” He walked slowly toward her, speaking softly, as if calming a skittish horse. “With the Armstrong mon still lurking about, ’tis best to get it over with as quickly as possible so we can be on our way.”
She drew herself up and looked him in the eye. “I’ve been thinking it over. I dinnae want to be a ‘no other choice’ bride nor have a ‘get it over with’ wedding. I dinnae remember agreeing to a wedding so soon.”
She was hurt. It was right there in her eyes. He’d made a mess of things by being his usual take-charge self. Of course she wanted to be made to feel as though this was something he wanted and was not forced to do. She wanted soft words, romance, and other things he had no idea how to do.
On the other hand, time was of the essence. He’d had reports that Armstrong had remained in the area, bad weather would soon be upon them, and bloody hell, he wanted Katie in his bed.
Now.
But he wanted a happy bride. A contented wife. A woman who felt cared for and was pleased with the marriage she’d made. And even, perhaps, loved, although he’d already stated he wasn’t promising that.
Evan offered her a soft smile and took her hand. “Ye ken I want ye for my wife. Not because ’tis something I must do but because it’s something I want to do. Truthfully, I thought about that verra thing before we were even caught in the downpour that stranded us at the cottage.”
He took both of her hands in his. “But, lass, yer brother is in danger, the weather is going to change verra soon, and I must get back to my clan. Surely ye can understand the need for a quick wedding?”
She studied him for so long, he thought she would say nay, but finally she nodded. “Aye.”
He tugged her hand, pulling her to join him on the comfortable chair near the fireplace. She landed in his lap, and he lowered his head.
Right before he placed his lips on her warm ones, he said, “Tomorrow.”
Chapter Twenty-One
My wedding day.
Katie stared in the mirror, surprised that she looked like a bride, since she didn’t feel like one. But her reflection proved it to be true. The lovely pale blue gown that clung to her figure had been borrowed from one of the MacDuff lasses who’d been wed in it the past year. She tried not to think about the poor lass who’d died two months ago, giving birth to her first child. Her husband had cried as he’d handed her the gown.
Her hair was braided and wound about her head, with blue ribbons woven throughout. The ribbons had been a gift from the cook, Mrs. MacDuff, whose granddaughter had run off with the butcher’s son on the eve of her wedding to another man. She’d cried as she handed over the ribbons.
Her shoes did not match her gown, but ’twas better than her work boots, which was all she had since there had never been a reason to dress up fancy. The pale green satin slippers with stones on the front had come from Mrs. Stirling with the eleven children. The woman had patted the corners of her eyes and wished her a long, happy, and fruitful marriage.
Katie was almost afraid to wear them.
A wedding day was not something she had dreamed about, as most young girls did. From the time her mum had died and Katie had taken over the care of her brother and the entire Stirling keep, she’d shoved thoughts of love and marriage to the back of her mind. The only man who had shown any interest in her had been Richard Armstrong, and she kenned precisely why he wanted to marry her. And it had nothing to do with her and everything to do with her sweet brother. She shuddered.
But here she was, ready to marry a man she’d only known for a few weeks. Of course, everything she’d learned about him only strengthened her opinion of him as a man, a laird, and, most likely, a husband.
Except he was a bit—ach, truthfully, more than a bit—arrogant. But he seemed to care for her and would be a wonderful example for Gavin. The poor lad needed a strong man in his life. Even though she would not change anything she’d done as his only parent, she was fair enough to allow that he needed a bit of toughening up.
A light tap at her door drew her from her musings. “Mistress, everyone is gathered and waiting for ye.” Meggie walked into the room, her eyes bright. “Ye look like a bride.”
“I ken, but I dinnae feel like a bride.” She sighed and picked up the pretty bouquet made from the flowers one of the Stirling lasses had gathered.
“I dinnae ken why yer so glum, mistress. Yer husband is a braw, handsome mon. He is laird of one of the strongest clans left in Scotland. He is flush with coin and even has a liking for yer brother.”
“Aye, I agree with ye on all those points. But the mon is also full of his own importance. Not that a laird is not important, but I dinnae want to enter into a marriage where I will be silenced on every opinion I offer.” She shook her head. “’Tis also that I feel rushed. I barely set my feet down in MacDuff castle, and now I’m to drag myself and my poor brother to Argyll, leaving behind all my clansmen who I’ve kenned since birth.”
“Ye have me,” Meggie snapped.
Katie reached out and touched her maid and friend on the arm, then pulled her in for a hug. “Aye. I apologize. Of course I’m thrilled that ye are coming with me.” She leaned back and smiled. “Shall we get this wedding thing over with?”
As they passed through the bedchamber door, Meggie lowered her voice. “The best part of this wedding is the wedding night.” She winked and added. “But I believe ye have already sampled that.”
Katie ordered the flush that had risen on her face to perdition.
Evan waited for her at the front of the Great Hall with the minister, another MacDuff (what else?), and Alasdair, acting as his witness, standing alongside him. The minister’s beaming smile made her grin, since Evan had told her what he had to confess to get him to marry them posthaste.
Her breath caught as she approached the three men, but she had eyes only for Evan. He was dressed in full regalia, surprising her, since she had no idea he would have traveled from Argyll with his formal clothes.
His hair was still damp from his bath, but what caught her breath more than the clothes and damp hair were his eyes. Two crystal clear green eyes the color of the Scottish hills bore into her as if he could see right to her soul. She shivered at the intensity of his focus on her. The slight tilt of his lips made her feel as though she walked toward him without her clothes. Another flush began in her m
iddle and spread to her face. Good heavens, she must regain her composure. This was not the time nor place to let her mind wander in that direction.
“Ye look beautiful, lass.” Evan took her free hand and kissed her knuckles.
Despite her misgivings about being hurried into this marriage, she was forced to admit that she could have done a lot worse. All the things Meggie had pointed out about her husband-to-be were true. She was sure there were many a lass who would gladly trade places with her right now.
Evan’s strong hand gripping hers, they both turned toward the minister, and he began the ceremony.
For all her worries and fearmongering, the ceremony was over in a flash, and it seemed within minutes she was no longer Mistress Katie Stirling but Lady MacNeil. They turned toward the crowd of MacDuffs and Stirlings and grinned at the explosion of cheers. Roars of “Kiss the bride!” echoed throughout the Great Hall.
“Aye!” Evan shouted and pulled her to his warm, hard body and kissed her in such a way that Father MacDuff began to clear his throat in a rather loud manner. Luckily, her new husband had the presence of mind to pull back, because she’d forgotten everything once his lips covered hers. She was also grateful for his strong arm wrapped snugly, and possessively, around her waist to keep her upright, since surely all her bones had melted.
They made their way to the dais, which was to be used for the first time since she had arrived. There were six places set. She, Evan, the minister, Alasdair, Gavin, and Meggie took their seats, and serving lasses immediately entered the room, carrying large platters of food and pitchers of ale. The rest of the guests—more than a hundred—quickly sat and began pouring ale and digging into the offerings from the kitchen.
She looked over at Evan, who had just turned from speaking with Alasdair. Gavin, sitting on his other side, rose from his seat and tapped Evan on the arm. Gavin spoke to him, a very earnest expression on his face. Whatever he said, Evan took seriously, because he bent his head to the lad and, placing his hand on his shoulder, must have reassured him about whatever it was that had troubled him, because the boy’s wee face relaxed, and he broke into a bright smile. Practically skipping back to his seat, Gavin settled in and dug into his food.
A Scot to Wed (Scottish Hearts) Page 15