Her Accidental Highlander Husband (MacKinlay Clan)

by Allison B Hanson

  …

  Cam wasn’t sure what to expect when he got to his chamber that night. Would Mari allow him to sleep next to her as she had the night before, or would he be consigned to the floor again?

  He hated to give up the ground he’d gained but knew he had to move at her pace or risk being put out altogether. His wife had been seriously wounded, and unlike those injuries of the physical nature, her inner scars would take far longer to heal. If ever. He couldn’t risk reopening them and causing her more pain.

  He found Mari in bed on the side she’d slept on the night before. The big space where he’d slept spread out in welcome with the blanket turned down. Dropping his kilt, he watched as she stared at the ceiling, her hands clenching the covers by her chin until her knuckles were white with the effort.

  “May I?” he asked, just to be sure. He was getting mixed messages. The bed said she was waiting for him, while her reactions stated otherwise.

  She nodded but didn’t meet his eyes. He found that was common for her. She spared him quick glances but otherwise kept her gaze elsewhere.

  “Did you have a pleasant day?” she asked as soon as he’d shifted into a comfortable position.

  “Aye. It was good enough. Liam is coming along well with his blade. He’ll make a fine warrior.”

  “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with their names. Which is Liam?”

  “He’s a tall, thin lad. Only ten and six, but filling out now since he’s been working with us daily.” He heard the pride in his own voice. “He might even make a good war chief someday.”

  “You would give up your duties?” his wife asked innocently.

  She clearly wasn’t familiar with this life. Even though she’d grown up in the Highlands, her father would most likely have protected her from the reality of battle between clans.

  “I would not give them up. But if the worst happened…” He let his words sit there in the darkness. It was important that she understand the risks of his position. That she know what she had unintentionally signed up for.

  “I see.” Those two words spoken with a slight shudder told more than their weight. She had only known him a few days, and already she did not want him to leave her. Even if only because she needed his protection.

  It was the thing he’d most worried about, remembering his mother and the way she fretted when his father went off to battle. How could Cam do that to a woman? How could he put her aside to jump on his horse when she wailed and begged him not to go?

  This was exactly what he did not want in his life. Survival was at the top of his goals when fighting, but would his mind be distracted with thoughts of Mari worrying about him?

  Maybe his warning would push her away. Now that she realized his life could be gone with the echo of a war cry, she would protect her heart.

  And he would find a way to protect his.

  “It’s why I don’t think it wise for a war chief to take a wife. The job leaves widows behind. I ken it well enough having lived so when my da went to fight and dinna come home.”

  “But you were promised to marry another,” Marian pointed out. He was glad to change the subject. He didn’t want to discuss such somber topics. He’d wanted her to know the truth, but knowing it and dwelling on it were two different things.

  “I’d not say promised, but planned for certain. A McCurdy lass.”

  “You didn’t find her to be…compatible?”

  He heard what she was really asking and hid his smile. She wanted to know if he was interested in someone else. He thought of toying with her to see if she’d break out in jealousy but feared he might end up disappointed.

  “I’ve never met her. In truth, none of us even knew the McCurdy had a daughter, so no one knows much about her.” He shrugged. “It doesna matter now. I’m married to you.” When she remained silent, he went on. “Besides, I have been telling Lach we don’t need to marry into an alliance with the bloody McCurdys, whose word isn’t worth a piss in the wind.” He cleared his throat. “Pardon my language.” The lass had been married to a bloody duke, and here he was speaking coarse in front of her.

  She laughed and shook her head. “It’s fine. It’s been a while since I’ve heard such talk, but I assure you, I shall not swoon.”

  He smiled and went on.

  “I’m training my men so we’ll be ready to take over the McCurdy clan whenever an opportunity presents itself.”

  “A war?” she said with wide eyes.

  “Aye. I think it’s the only way to assure our access to the sea. I think the McCurdy will marry off his daughter to get what he wants from us—coin—and then he’ll find some way to turn his back on the agreement. It’s always been his way to cheat.”

  “But you said Lachlan doesn’t agree?”

  “Nay. He wants a peaceful agreement.”

  It was clear Marian agreed with the laird. Most women he’d met preferred peace to war. Even Kenna, who was generally bloodthirsty, didn’t want to go that route.

  “I’m not daft,” Cam said. “I know we would lose men. But I think, if we’re clever, we could bring down the McCurdy laird and his sons. Once they no longer hold power, I believe the rest of the clan will easily swear allegiance to Clan MacKinlay. It’s a simple matter of which laird can keep their bellies full. McCurdy is notoriously miserly with his people.”

  “Still. It seems an extreme measure just to avoid a marriage you didn’t want. Especially since you ended up shackled anyway.” She frowned, and he reached out to squeeze her hand.

  “Aye. We’re in a marriage neither of us wanted, but that doesn’t mean we canna use it to our advantage. You will keep me from having to marry someone who might expect more of me. And you have the protection of my clan.”

  “You’re suggesting this is a good thing?”

  “I’m suggesting it can be a good thing, so long as we both understand what can and canna be between us.”

  She pinched her bottom lip in an enticing way as she took a few moments to think it through. He was proud of her for deliberating her future so thoroughly.

  “I think you’re right,” she finally said. “So long as we agree it will never be a real marriage, I don’t see the harm in being legally bound to you.”

  “Good,” he said, though something didn’t sit quite right.

  Wasn’t this what he’d wanted? A way to stay clear of marriage to a woman who might make demands of love? Mari didn’t want that any more than he did.

  And that was a good thing.

  A very good thing.

  Chapter Nine

  Marian spent the night tossing and turning. At the first hint of light, she was out of bed and off to find something to keep her mind busy.

  The night before, she and Cameron had come to an agreement. A marriage in name only. Except, they were sharing a room, a bed, and a life.

  While she agreed they couldn’t expect love from their accidental marriage, she had to admit—to herself at least—that she was interested in what might eventually happen between them…physically.

  And that shocked her to no end. After the physical nightmare she’d endured with the duke, how could she possibly be open to willingly share her body with a man? It made no sense, even to her.

  And yet, she could not deny it—she’d felt something warm and pleasant flare within her when Cameron MacKinlay lay next her in the dark.

  The idea of lying with him as a wife intrigued Marian in some deep, long-hidden part of her. But the risk remained too great. Her husband, as large and imposing as he was, could break her far more easily than Blackley ever had. Maybe violence didn’t simmer on the surface with Cameron, but at some point she would displease him, and his patience would snap.

  What then?

  Slipping into the kitchen, she found the women busy with preparations for the morning meal. Kenna wasn’t there. She must have given in t
o Lachlan’s pleading that she rest until after the babe was born.

  The other women—older than Marian and Kenna—offered her a smile as she hovered near the door, unsure of how to help. As a duchess, she’d never stepped foot in the kitchen, much less helped the staff.

  Even as a girl she’d never been allowed to linger in the kitchens as Kenna had. Marian had been confined to her training and lessons, forgoing fun in order to secure a future with a nobleman.

  She could only imagine what her father would say to find out she’d been handfasted to a Scot. And not even a laird. The thought gave her a flicker of happiness.

  She was free to be who she wanted to be. No longer forced into the rules of being the laird’s daughter or contorted into her role as duchess. She could simply be Marian.

  Or Mari.

  Cameron’s simpler name for her made more sense in her new life. She had been reinvented, living a simpler, easier life.

  From now on, she would be Mari.

  “Would you be able to help crimp the tarts?” Espath—if she remembered correctly—asked as if knowing Marian—Mari—needed prompting.

  “Of course.” She offered them a smile and took her spot, eager to be of help.

  This was her home now, and she longed to fit in. Her life as Duchess of Endsmere had been lonely. Only Lucy had ever spoken to her like a real person. The other staff had kept their distance, either because they felt the duchess wouldn’t embrace their relationship, or from fear of reprimand from the duke.

  Mari let out a breath and took to her task. She was free. She was making friends. And she was safe.

  As long as she did nothing to anger her new husband.

  Though from the scowl on his face when he opened the door and ducked into the kitchen, she worried that might not be possible.

  “Mari? Can I speak with ye outside?”

  She glanced to the other women for help, but they offered nothing more than soft smiles. “Yes. Of course.”

  He stayed her with a hand and pointed. “You might bring a few of those with you?”

  The women tittered, and Espath grabbed up four of the finished tarts and wrapped them in a cloth. Handing them over to her with a wink, she said, “Have a good morning.”

  Carrying the tarts, Mari followed her husband’s wide back out of the kitchen and around to the stables. She wanted to ask where they were going but remembered how much the duke hated when she’d questioned him on anything.

  A few times Cameron paused as if waiting for her to catch up to him, but she stayed behind him, as was proper. Maybe he didn’t care about such things. Maybe he wanted her to walk next to him. Should she ask?

  It was a strange situation. While she’d hated nearly every moment of her marriage to the duke, at least she’d known what was expected of her. Every word she uttered or move she made was watched and measured. If she said or did the wrong thing, she would be punished.

  Inside the stables, she breathed in the sweet smell of hay and horses. Another place she’d not spent much time visiting in her past life. Though after fleeing London she’d sought them out as a quiet place of safety during her travels north.

  As her eyes adjusted to the dim light, she saw two horses being readied. The ogre from yesterday cast her a baleful glare. He tended a giant beast of a horse. The second horse, looking smaller just for standing next to the other, whickered and tossed its head.

  Cameron took her bundle and tucked it inside the bag on the larger horse, and dismissed the surly groom.

  “It’s a fine morning for a ride. I would like you to join me.” It was made to sound like a request, but the firm tone revealed the command.

  She blinked and looked down at her feet.

  “I assumed you ride, since Kenna isn’t happy unless her arse is in a saddle. If you do not, we could—”

  “I do ride. Not as much as Kenna, but I can. I would like to go with you.” She tried her best to mask the tremor in her voice. There seemed to be no way to keep from displeasing him. Staying behind would ruin his plans, but when he saw how ill-equipped she was on a horse he might well toss her off himself.

  Her mind raced with all she knew of riding. It had been many years. Before she went to court. Hopefully she would remember and not embarrass herself.

  “I wish to show you some of our lands,” he explained.

  It was clear he wanted to say something else, but he hesitated, his lips pressed into a firm line.

  “Very well.” She allowed him to help her onto her horse and followed behind him.

  Knowing her way around the MacKinlay lands would make it easier for her to run if needed.

  She stayed directly behind him, not catching up and not allowing too much space to fall between them. She thought it the perfect distance and worked hard to maintain it.

  He occasionally turned in his saddle to see her, though she knew he could well hear she was still there. Each time he frowned, and she began to worry. He was clearly displeased.

  Was it with her riding? She was glad it wasn’t too difficult. The early lessons of her youth served her well.

  He swiveled and cast another frown in her direction.

  Fear tingled up her spine. Quickly she tried to remember the night before and the few hours this morning. What had she done to earn his ire? They’d done nothing more than sleep. She hadn’t even seen him that morning.

  Was that it? Was he angry with her for leaving his bed without his permission? Giving up, her mind went blank. She knew it didn’t matter if she’d done anything offensive or not. The result would be the same. How many times had she been broken and bloodied for no crime or fault?

  Her heart raced as she searched for ways to avoid his wrath. She knew reasoning didn’t work. Begging only made it worse. Running wasn’t an option—the punishment was far worse when she was caught.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she could only see barest tips of the battlements over the trees. The castle was too far away. She’d never make it, especially after a beating. Her chest hurt from trying to catch her breath. She swayed in the saddle and closed her eyes.

  “Mari? What is it?” Cameron’s voice broke through her panic. Somehow he was standing next to her.

  Her horse must have stopped. How long had she been sitting there before he’d come back to check on her?

  “What is it? You’re so pale.” He reached for her, and she flinched. He paused a moment before placing his hands at her waist and removing her from her horse. “Are you hurt? Tell me what’s wrong.”

  She could barely stand on her own feet, as lightheaded as she was. She couldn’t pull in enough air to keep her upright. Light flickered at the sides of her vision. She couldn’t swoon here with him. She needed to stay alert. Be ready to protect herself if needed.

  “You’re shaking,” he said, his eyes wide. He bent to look into her face. “Talk to me, woman. You’re scaring me.”

  He was scared? This giant of a man was scared? Of her?

  She blinked a few times and looked at him, seeing the truth. His golden eyes weren’t scowling at her in anger or disgust. He looked upon her with concern and worry.

  His hands on her shoulders didn’t grip her too tightly but steadied her. Offering his support and his strength.

  “Please, lass,” he begged her.

  She tried to slow her breathing by telling herself she was not in danger from this man, but it was too late. Her heart ran away all on its own. She pressed a palm to her chest, bidding it to stay there.

  Before she could manage to speak, Cameron had scooped her up and carried her into the shade of a nearby tree. He pulled a flask from his side and held it to her lips. “Drink,” he ordered. But the short command lacked anger or danger.

  She took a sip and coughed at the burn of the whisky as it tore at her throat. Another sip, and then another. The warmth in her stomach spread out
through her body to the very tips of her toes and fingers.

  She managed to take in a deep breath and let it out slowly. Then another. Soon her heart slowed, and she sagged against him, exhausted from her ordeal.

  “Do ye feel better?” he asked, his voice vibrating at her ear.

  “I’m tired,” she answered, not sounding like herself.

  “Then rest. I’ll watch over you,” he promised.

  She closed her eyes and drifted away, enjoying the comfort of his embrace.

  …

  Cam frowned down at his sleeping wife. She’d been curled up on his lap for most of the morning. He’d noticed the dark shadows under her eyes when he’d met her in the kitchen, and guessed she hadn’t slept well the night before.

  But that wasn’t an explanation for what had happened here, when she’d gone pale and limp. When she’d been unable to speak for breathing too hard and her heart had nearly beaten out of her chest.

  She’d worn herself out battling…nothing.

  Nothing but fear.

  “What had you so terrified?” he asked her sleeping form as he brushed her golden hair back from her face. Eventually she shifted, and her eyes fluttered open. She gazed up at him for a moment, then looked around as if confused as to where she was or how she got there.

  “How do ye feel?” he asked, moving his stiff leg and flexing his numb fingers.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, her cheeks turning pink.

  She had the loveliest blush. In another time he might say things that kept her blushing, just to see it. But a darkness lurked in her eyes, and he needed to focus on how to help her overcome it.

  She kept her gaze away from his until he could stand it no longer. Moving slowly, he placed his fingers slightly on her chin and turned her face toward his so she had to look him in the eyes.

  “What happened?”

  She swallowed and would have looked away again if he hadn’t kept a firm grasp on her.

  “I’m fine.” The lie came out in a soft voice.