Her Accidental Highlander Husband (MacKinlay Clan)

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Her Accidental Highlander Husband (MacKinlay Clan) Page 3

by Allison B Hanson


  “Mama,” one of the boys said while reaching for Kenna.

  Kenna was the mother of these children? And the one still in her belly. A familiar twinge of jealousy sparked in Mari’s chest and she quickly brushed it aside.

  She was happy for her sister. And it was clear Kenna was happy and loved here. Something Kenna hadn’t been at Fletcher Castle.

  The jealousy twisted into shame. How many times had she and her parents tried to force Kenna to conform rather than accept her as she was?

  “Stay with Papa, Roddy. I must see to Auntie Marian.” Kenna kissed the children and then her husband before looping her arm through Marian’s and tugging her toward the keep. “Come. We have much to catch up on.”

  That much was true, though Marian didn’t know where to begin.

  She was taken to a sparse room with a large bed taking up most of the space. Kenna settled on a chair and rubbed her belly as a tub was carried in and filled with hot water.

  How Marian longed to slip into the bath and allow the warmth to soothe her aching body. Perhaps this would be the last time she need call on the healing properties of a bath. She hoped to be safe here.

  Except she knew better than to think her past could be so easily washed away. Kenna was clearly excited for them to be alone so she could shower Marian with questions. When the last steaming bucket was dumped and the servants closed the door behind them, Kenna gazed at her expectantly.

  “Do you mind stepping out while I undress?” Marian asked, feeling her cheeks heat.

  Kenna laughed. “We’ve seen all our parts since we were wee lasses. You’re much skinnier than before, but I’m sure everything’s the same as I have.”

  Marian stared down at her dirty feet. It wasn’t the nudity that bothered her. It was that Kenna would see more of her story than most people knew. She had planned to tell her sister the hell that had been her life the last five years. But telling was different than seeing.

  “I’ll turn around if it suits you, but I don’t want to leave. I’m so excited you’re here, and I think it will take several days to catch up. I don’t want to delay.”

  Marian laughed at her sister’s eagerness and stripped off the filthy gown while Kenna faced the wall.

  She hadn’t been certain of her reception, since her sister had never reached out with so much as a note in the last years. But she couldn’t deny Kenna appeared happy she was here. Perhaps she’d been too busy with her life and children to write.

  “Just toss that dress over by the door to be burned. I’m afraid there’s no saving it.”

  Marian let out a sound of bliss as she slipped into the warm water and dunked her head. Picking up the soap, she lathered and began washing off a month’s worth of dirt and grime.

  “So, where should we begin?” Kenna asked as she turned around.

  Most of Marian’s scars were hidden beneath the surface of the water, so she allowed herself to smile and enjoy the start of her healing of body and soul.

  For the first time in years, she felt safe and cared for.

  Chapter Four

  When Mari had been dragged away by Kenna, it left Cam alone with Lach and the boys. Cam figured he was safe for the moment. Lach wouldn’t yell or draw his sword with the wee ones present.

  But it was only a moment before the nurse came for the boys and Cam’s cowardly grasp at protection was whisked away into the castle.

  “I didn’t expect such a thing from you.” Lach’s voice remained level. It may have been worse than yelling. He was disappointed in Cam.

  Cam knew well enough how much his laird had wanted this alliance. It had once been Lach’s plan to wed a McCurdy himself and seal their clans together so the MacKinlays would gain access to the sea. It had been Lach’s father’s wish, and now that the old man was gone, they’d all wanted to see it through to honor the former laird’s legacy.

  “In my defense, my laird, I didn’t expect such a thing, either. What would you have had me do? Let them take the lass back to England to be hanged for merely defending herself?”

  “Nay. I am glad you claimed her and brought her home. I’m just angry with the situation. You know how much I’ve wanted this alliance. I was so close to making that happen, and now…”

  “I ken you’re disappointed, but a marriage doesn’t have to be the only way. I can train the men to take the castle before they’ve even seen us. I’ve drawn up plans of their hold, and I know how we—”

  “It’s too risky. If we fail, not only would we lose the chance of an alliance, but we could very well lose Dunardry and our clan.”

  Cam wanted to fight him on this, but it was no use. Lach had the weight of his people holding him back from such an aggressive tactic.

  Lach nodded as if coming to some conclusion. “We’ll just have to get the marriage annulled so ye can marry Dorie McCurdy.”

  “What?” Cam hadn’t expected this. “The hell, you say. I’m not getting an annulment.” He had no idea why he was so adamantly against such a thing. He grasped for reasons. “She would be ruined.”

  Lach laughed. “She’s a murderess who’s been traveling alone for over a month. She’ll not grace a London sitting room ever again.”

  “She’s my wife.” Cam stated the fact firmly. Defending it with a glare.

  “You said yourself, you don’t even know the lass. What do you care if it’s Marian Fletcher or Dorian McCurdy? A wife is a wife to ye.”

  “It’s Marian Fletcher MacKinlay, and it will stay that way. I’ll sign no annulment.”

  Lach’s eyes went wide with surprise. He looked toward the gate in confusion. “She’s bonny enough, but have you become besotted with the lass on the trip back to the castle?”

  “Of course not. I’m the war chief.” War chiefs didn’t become besotted—at least successful ones didn’t. They needed to be focused. There was no time for the dealings of a wife when there were men to be trained and plans to be laid.

  Lach sniffed. “You think a war chief canna be besotted with a lass? I remember your da looking googly-eyed at your ma.”

  “Aye. And it made him weak.”

  “You think me weak for loving my wife and children?” Lach asked.

  “Nay.” Cameron looked away. He hadn’t meant to offend his cousin. It had been the opposite for Lach. He’d gained many things with his union to Kenna. “It’s different for me. A war chief is expected to take risks and make decisions to protect this clan. I can’t do the duty justice if I’m worried over getting myself skewered and bringing sadness to a wife.”

  “I see.” Lach frowned.

  He didn’t see. He couldn’t. He hadn’t witnessed the grief and melancholy that took over a wife when she’d lost her love.

  “It appears the duty of being war chief is in truth a curse. If you never allow yourself to love anyone within these walls, what drives you to protect it with your life?” Lach asked, his head cocked to one side. For once in the bloody conversation, Cam didn’t feel his laird was mocking him.

  It was easy to speak his answer. “Honor.”

  Cam hadn’t wanted to marry, but now he was wed and he would honor his vows, spoken purposefully or no. The best he could do was make sure he and Mari didn’t fall in love. He wasn’t at risk for such things, and Mari had been wed to a monster. It was clear she wanted no part of a true marriage.

  This union would be perfect for both of them. They would protect each other from the things they didn’t want. And have all the freedoms they desired.

  “I’ll not have an annulment,” Cam repeated and walked away.

  …

  Marian chastised herself for spilling everything to Kenna in one sitting. Her pregnant sister was still pale from hearing the tale of how Marian came to be sitting in a tub in Dunardry Castle.

  The water had long gone cold when she’d finally finished her story.


  Kenna dashed a tear from her cheek and offered a watery smile. “Your poor skin must be wrinkled. Let’s get ye out of there before you become chilled.”

  Forgetting herself in the comfort of their reunion, Marian had stood. It wasn’t until Kenna gasped that she realized what she’d revealed.

  Fresh tears filled Kenna’s eyes. It wasn’t normal for her sister to cry, and Marian accounted it to the emotions brought on by pregnancy.

  Pressing her lips together as if to steel herself, Kenna handed over a linen so Marian could dry her scarred skin. “You are safe now, sister. No harm will ever come to you as long as you are here.”

  Marian trembled at her sister’s vehemence and allowed herself to relax.

  Kenna helped her with her hair, pausing briefly upon seeing the scar across Marian’s face. She frowned and continued brushing. “I can’t help but become furious every time I see your scars. I wish the man was alive so I could kill him with my bare hands for what he did to ye.”

  Marian smiled. “I thank you for your allegiance; however, I would not see you anywhere near that man.”

  “Why didn’t you write to tell me? I would have sent a dozen warriors to retrieve you.”

  Coming from another’s lips, it might have sounded like an empty promise. But Marian could tell her sister wasn’t wasting her words.

  “I did write to you, but you never wrote back.” Marian somehow managed to keep the accusation and hurt out of her voice. Kenna froze and looked at Marian in the mirror. “I understand. You have a busy life here as the laird’s wife.” Marian glanced away.

  Kenna dropped onto the bench beside her and took her hand. “Marian, I wrote to you nearly every week for years. And only finally gave up when the boys were born and I was truly too busy. You never answered my letters, but still I kept writing, hoping you’d tell me how you fared. I thought ye hated me still.”

  “Hated you? Never have I hated you.”

  “When I ruined your dress.”

  “Oh, Kenna. I was angry with your recklessness, but I have always loved you. You are my sister. It’s natural to pester one another, but under that is love, always.” Marian cleared her throat. “I must apologize, for it seems my husband did us both a disservice by interrupting our correspondence. For I wrote to you, begging you to answer. I was alone in London, and despite all the training, I was an outcast. A barbaric heathen from the north. And when dinner or tea was over and my rudimentary upbringing disgraced my husband, he made his displeasure at my existence quite clear.”

  Kenna wrapped her arms around Marian and squeezed tight. At the odd angle, they were able to cling to each other closely.

  “We shall have time now to share all the words in those letters. That bloody cod might have stolen a few years from us, but we will not let him destroy our bond. He canna.”

  Marian smiled at Kenna’s intensity. “I will like that very much.”

  Kenna stood and took up fixing Marian’s hair again. “You’ll be happy here. I know it. The clan is filled with good people. I have a lot of friends here. I’ll introduce you to them. And your husband is second in command of the clan. You’ll not be a duchess, but you’ll hold a place of respect as his wife.”

  Marian caught a smile on Kenna’s lips.

  “Do you know him well? What is he like? He’s so…large.”

  “He’s one of my best friends. He’s protected me many times.”

  Marian nodded. His sheer size proved him a formidable warrior and one prepared for providing protection.

  She blurted out the thing she most needed to know. “Do you find he is quick to anger?”

  Kenna gripped Marian’s shoulder, then softened her hold when Marian jumped at the contact.

  “You couldn’t have married a more gentle man than Cameron MacKinlay. From what I hear, he’s a beast in battle, as expected from a war chief. But he’s able to leave that behind when he steps back inside the castle walls. I trust him with my wee boys. You can be assured he’ll never touch ye in anger.”

  Marian must have looked skeptical, because Kenna pushed on.

  “I’ve seen Cam come into the hall, still dripping with loch water where he’d washed the blood from his skin and clothes, pick up one of my boys, and sing them to sleep. He’d not hurt a soul unless it was his duty to do so.”

  Marian nodded. “I’m glad it was him out in that field.”

  “Aye. Now, let’s get you into a dress so you can get to know him better yourself.”

  When Marian glanced up at her hair, she saw Kenna had finished and it had all been pulled back away from her face.

  “I like to have curls at the side.” Her hand fluttered near the scar on her cheek.

  “You are a beautiful woman. You’ve no need to hide behind curls.”

  “But—”

  “This is your home now. You do not need to hide.”

  Kenna helped her into a dress that would have been lovely if she’d had her sister’s assets to fill it out. How things had changed. It used to be Kenna who lacked the curves necessary for certain fashions.

  Marian had not been allowed large meals. The duke often embarrassed her publicly when she ate, so she picked at her food. At home, she was given a very small portion per the duke’s orders. This practice had left Marian quite spindly. And being on the run had been hard, so she was even thinner than before. The result was disappointing. The gown drooped and sagged, making it clear it was not made for her.

  “We’ll get the ladies working tomorrow to make you proper clothing. Until then, let’s eat. I’m starved,” Kenna said exuberantly.

  With one hand on her belly and the other clutching Marian’s, Kenna led them into the great hall. The hum of conversation quieted only briefly as the seated clan members took her in. She was granted a few nods and smiles as she made her way to the front where Cameron was sitting and speaking to Lachlan.

  Marian reached for curls that weren’t there. It was a habit. Her way of hiding what happened in her home.

  But this was her home now. She dropped her hand and stepped forward to greet her husband.

  Chapter Five

  Cam sat at the head table next to the laird and did his best to ignore the jests regarding his accidental marriage.

  “Aye, I’m surprised after he stumbled into the marriage, he didn’t also trip and end up with his cock in her, too. He might have come back to the castle with a wife and child.” Angus laughed at his joke while Cam scowled at the old coot.

  The other men at the table chuckled and Cam decided this was how it would be for some time. He might have thought the situation funny, as well, had it happened to someone else.

  He was about to come back with some comment that would no doubt get tangled and make him look more the fool when he looked up and saw Kenna approach the head table with an angel at her side.

  “Dear lord,” young Liam said solemnly from the end of the table. The other men fell silent.

  Cam thought Liam’s words were well chosen. He stood and bumped into Lach when he rose as well. They walked side by side to meet their wives.

  Lach bowed to Mari and then held out his arm for Kenna. Cam did the same, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Mari. She was stunning.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered and noticed her smile waver. He remembered then that her beauty had turned out to be a curse. Perhaps it was a compliment she no longer enjoyed hearing. “That is to say, you look much better cleaned up.”

  Her smile picked up slightly, and she leaned closer to him. “I could say the same of you. You surely smell better.”

  He laughed. “As I recall, no one would have confused ye with a rose when you stuck your bosom in my face.”

  When her smile fell, he realized he’d gone too far with the jest. He was such a dolt around women when conversation was involved. It was why he only ever took them to bed. He did
n’t talk to them first.

  Kenna was the only exception, and mostly because she didn’t act all that much like a woman. But Mari was completely feminine. He’d need to do much better.

  “Pardon.” He coughed. “Your fragrance was not as off-putting as I made it seem.”

  She merely blinked at him for a moment.

  “That was no better than what you said the first time,” he muttered to himself as she blinked. Unable to help himself, he tried once more. “Having your breasts in my face was a pleasurable experience no matter—”

  “Thank you,” she interrupted. God bless her for stopping him before he made it even worse. But when the silence grew on, he fell victim to discomfort.

  “I didn’t hate it, is all I’m saying.” Not at all. He helped her to her seat, allowing his gaze to linger on the curve of her breasts. He noticed how dainty she was. A few inches shorter than Kenna, and smaller too. The gown she wore hung loose on her tiny frame.

  He’d heard that thin women were the thing in London. However, in the Highlands, a frail woman wouldn’t survive the harsh winter without putting some meat on her bones. He’d work on feeding her until she was healthy.

  He noticed a thin red scar on the cheek facing him. It traveled from the corner of her left eye down to her jawline. He swallowed and let out a steady breath. The scar could have been a result of an injury or accident, but he could see how perfectly shaped it was as it mirrored the line of her face and doubted it had been made without intention.

  The bloody duke.

  Cam clenched his fork too tightly. The monster was dead and no longer able to hurt Marian.

  He smiled at his wife, wondering what other horrors she’d experienced and how he’d ever be able to sit quietly and listen if she chose to tell him. She’d been forced to kill in defense of her own life. Her stories would be unsettling for sure. He’d have to remain calm if ever she shared her past with him.

 

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