Her Accidental Highlander Husband (MacKinlay Clan)

by Allison B Hanson

He felt her nod and wondered in resigned frustration how many more steps lay before them.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next morning Cam woke to find Mari still in bed next to him. He’d never been a late sleeper, but she had been up and out of their room before he woke the day before.

  Now with the sun coming in through the window, he was able to look his fill at his wife. She was a beauty. Long, dark-gold lashes rested on her cheek. Her brows curved in a way that made one think she was about to say something astute. And those lips…

  He let out a sigh and got out of bed before he spent too much time gazing at her lips. His body was already hard from just the fact it was morning. Staring at her lips would not ease that ache, for certain.

  He left their room as quietly as possible and headed downstairs. After saddling his horse, he left the castle to check in with the perimeter guards to the west. He was almost happy to find them sleeping so he had a reason to vent some of his frustration.

  “And what if I’d been the McCurdys? The castle wouldn’t have any warning of an attack.”

  One guard leaped to his feet, rubbing his eyes. “The McCurdys wouldn’t attack us on one horse, but all the beasts they own. That many horses would have made the earth shake and we would have felt them coming.”

  That only provoked him more.

  “You know how else you might know an enemy is coming on you?” Cam demanded, then paused to see if they’d dare answer. “You could keep your bloody eyes open and watch for them! Which is why you’re out here in the first place.”

  “All’s well, Cam. There’s no reason to worry.”

  Cam could see as much, but he really wanted to yell at someone. Being stressed and frustrated with Mari would set them back even further in feeling comfortable with one another.

  “Just stay awake,” he ordered gruffly and headed back to the castle.

  Mari was sitting in the back of the hall with one of the women from the kitchen. Rather than speak to her in his current foul mood, he went to the head table where Lach was eating with Bryce and Liam.

  He flopped down on the bench beside the laird, still muttering his displeasure with the guards, the weather, and the world in general.

  “How are things with you and Mari?” Lach asked, nodding toward where she was laughing with her friends. “She seems happy enough. Why do you look ready to bust through the castle walls?”

  “Aye, she seems happy. But she’s not. She’s terrified.”

  “Of what?”

  “Me.”

  “You?” Lach looked to Bryce and Liam, who also looked confused. Three sets of eyes glared at him. “What did ye do to her?”

  “I didn’t do anything to her, and you well know I never would. Wipe that look from your faces right now or I’ll help you do it.”

  “My mistake for thinking you rough.” Lach rolled his eyes.

  “I don’t know what to do with her. She goes along with everything I say. She doesn’t want to cause any trouble.”

  “My, that sounds wretched.” Bryce smirked.

  “It is. She’s afraid of me. Her late husband was a right bugger the way he treated her. She flinches and cowers whenever I come near her. I can’t stand it.”

  “You need to push her until she pushes back,” Liam suggested. “Like a timid horse.”

  All three men looked at the boy and laughed loudly at his suggestion.

  “Have ye even kissed a lass yet?” Bryce teased.

  Liam’s face and ears went red, and he scowled at them, then jumped up to go find another place to sit.

  When their laughter faded, Cam rubbed his chin and shook his head. “It might not be a bad idea, at that.”

  “I was just thinking the same,” Bryce agreed.

  “If it works, I’ll have to apologize to the lad,” Cam admitted.

  “If it works, I don’t think you’ll mind.” Bryce gave him a wink.

  Nay. Cam wouldn’t mind at all.

  …

  “And he hasn’t done more than kiss you?” Kenna asked as they sat in her solar later that morning.

  Mari had seen Cameron at the morning meal, but he’d hardly looked at her, let alone come to speak to her. She didn’t know what to do to set things right between them again, but she was certain Kenna could help her figure it out.

  Mari tied off on a piece of embroidery while Kenna watched.

  “No. He’s been a proper gentleman. Which is quite infuriating.” She’d liked kissing Cameron, and she wanted to experience what came next. The way he’d looked at her last night made her think he was ready to take that next step.

  Until she’d frightened him off.

  “He said we should take our time, to make sure we’re comfortable with one another. We held hands.”

  Kenna smirked. “Held hands? You’ll not get very far at that rate. You may need to kiss him.”

  “I couldn’t.” Mari shook her head quickly. It would be much too risky. What if he found such unladylike behavior forward and disgusting, like Endsmere? He was already annoyed with her for being such a coward and scooting away from him in terror.

  No, she would have to wait for Cameron to make the first move.

  She only hoped he would try again soon.

  “Have you told him you want him to touch you?”

  “No. Of course not. Proper ladies don’t ask men to touch them.”

  Kenna nodded. “Mayhap that’s why proper ladies don’t get touched, whereas I get touched all the time.”

  “You ask your husband to touch you?” Mari asked, trying her best not to appear appalled.

  “Ask? Nay. I walk up to him, grab him by the ears, and pull him down so I can kiss him. Then I reach under his kilt and grab him by—”

  “You reach under his— Kenna Elizabeth!” So much for not being appalled. “You behave like a wanton!”

  “I am wanton, I guess, since I’m wantin’ my husband to touch me.” She laughed with a wink.

  Mari pressed her lips together, trying to hold in her own mirth. “You are still the wild one, even though you’re also beautiful.”

  “The English call us Scots savages for a reason. Mayhap it’s time for you to put propriety aside and grab what you want.” She chuckled. “By the ears, if need be. Or the—”

  “Kenna!”

  Mari was certain her younger sister enjoyed deviling her with bawdy talk. But when she was done laughing, she took the embroidery from Mari and set it aside to join hands.

  “You have every reason to be afraid of a man’s touch. So far, it’s not been a pleasant experience for ye. But I promise, once you find your way into Cam’s arms and his bed, you’ll not be sorry.”

  Mari nodded and took a deep breath. “The truth is, I want his touch,” she confessed. “I have even had thoughts of reaching up under his kilt, as you’ve said. It drives me mad thinking about it at times. But when he’s there in front of me, I lose my nerve completely.”

  Kenna released her and got up. For a second, Mari thought she’d said too much and repulsed Kenna, but her sister was riffling through papers on a small desk.

  “There’s safety in distance,” Kenna explained. “I wrote to Lachlan when he was fighting for the French. In a letter I could say things I would have been afraid to say in his presence. You should write to Cam. Tell him what you want, so there’s no misunderstanding.”

  Mari regarded her sister with a blossoming smile. “That is a wonderful idea.”

  With newfound excitement, she sat down at the desk and studied the blank page before her. Dipping a quill in the ink, she poised it over the paper and…nothing.

  “Perhaps if I leave you to it,” Kenna suggested, and went for the door. “Take as long as you need.”

  It took Mari most of the day and a fair fortune in paper and ink to get her feelings down in a way that sounded
sincere and also alluring.

  Later that evening, she paced in front of the fire in nothing but her thin shift. Her hair was down and brushed smooth. However, she was still pretending to brush it so she would be caught in the open when Cameron came up to bed.

  She realized when she stood in front of the fire, the light shone through her shift, giving him a look at her curves without seeing her skin. It was the perfect way to tantalize her husband into kissing her again. And maybe more… The letter she’d worked so hard to finish sat on the stand. She’d unfolded and refolded it so many times, the creases were nearly worn through.

  She would allow him to catch her getting ready for bed. Then she would give him the letter. From there, she didn’t know what to expect. This was a whole different type of fear. One she was willing to embrace.

  But it was already an hour past when he’d come to bed last night, and still he was not there. She sat down in the chair next to the fire to give her feet a rest, ready to jump up when he entered the room.

  Her plan was flawless…except that she fell asleep in the chair.

  When Cameron came stumbling into their chamber, she jerked awake at the sound of the door slamming closed. She stood quickly, giving him a chance to look, but he didn’t look. He pulled off his belt and let his kilt fall to the floor. Still wearing his weapons belt, he stood on one leg to pull off his boot. He nearly lost his balance, but not before his shirt had come up enough for her to see one sculpted buttock.

  She glanced away but returned her gaze immediately to get another look.

  When he reached for her to steady himself, his hand grazed her breast. A pleasant feeling zinged through her body…but then she caught a whiff of him.

  She stepped away, pressing her back against the wall.

  He was heavy with drink from the smell of him and the way he laughed loudly. His unfocused gaze moved over her for a moment, then he flopped onto the bed.

  She stayed in the corner, unmoving, until he began snoring. She edged closer and nudged his arm.

  Nothing. He was dead asleep.

  When the duke was in his cups he was even more violent than usual. However, Cameron seemed immobile and unthreatening with his heavy arms splayed across the bed, taking up her side as well as his own.

  With a sigh she went over and picked up his leg to tug off the boot he hadn’t managed to free. Then she undid the weapons belt at his waist and slid it off. Setting his sword and dirk on the table next to the bed, she worked out how she might cover him. He was lying atop the blankets.

  After another moment of contemplation, she decided he was already more comfortable than he deserved, and went to the other side of the bed. With a huff, she pushed his arm aside before getting in and closing her eyes.

  She crossed her arms, settling into her disappointment.

  There would be no kissing tonight.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was all Cam could do to keep from pulling Mari into his arms when she removed his belt. He’d felt himself growing hard and forced himself to think of other things so as not to give away the fact he wasn’t as drunk as he pretended.

  He’d asked his friends what they did to make their wives angry. Coming home foxed was at the top of their lists. Yet instead of ranting at him, Mari had removed his boot and tried to make him comfortable.

  However, before that she’d been terrified. Damn his eyes, he should have considered that her bastard of a husband may have beaten her when he’d been drinking.

  Clearly, she wasn’t the kind of woman who would kill a man unjustly. If she’d been pushed to the point of murder, it was certainly warranted. Cam hated that someone had hurt her so much she felt her only escape was to kill.

  His plan would only work if she was mad enough to fight with him and she felt comfortable enough to give him a good blistering. Once she could yell at him without fear, it would mean she was no longer afraid of him. Or so he hoped.

  Mari had been badly mistreated and did not trust his kindness. Gentleness alone wouldn’t work with her. He had to earn her ire and argue loudly with her, in order to prove he would never resort to violence.

  No matter how much it went against everything he’d ever done in the past when it came to women. His father had always told him women were to be honored and respected. He was never to lift his hand to a female or anyone smaller than he, except in battle for his clan.

  “A large body doesn’t mean you are a strong man if you use it to intimidate others. Being able to use your body to fight your enemies, while keeping your heart kind, is the truest meaning of strength.”

  Cam thought his father had the right of it. He would never raise a hand in anger to his wife. Or any other person. He just wished there was a way to convince her of that. Not touching his wife was taking more strength than he might possess.

  At some point during the night she’d scooted closer, and he’d wrapped his arm around her to hold her. He wanted her badly, but he would wait until she felt safe.

  Her whimpers and tossing woke him, and he pulled her from the depths of her bad dream. She cried and shook against him, and he held her as tight as he could without crushing her, hoping to help hold her together. He worried she’d shake apart into tiny pieces if he let go.

  When she quieted, he stroked her hair. “Is it better now, Mari?”

  “Can you hold me a little longer?”

  “I’ll hold you as long as you need, lass.” Forever.

  That thought made him shudder. She’d only been here a few days, and already he feared he was slipping into unwanted feelings.

  He’d not wanted to marry, yet he was wed and at ease with it…because he thought it would be in name only. But now he was trying to earn her trust so they could share more intimate pursuits that had nothing to do with either of their names.

  And tonight he found himself forgoing his interest in the flesh to simply hold her and offer comfort. Worse, he was content with the contact and didn’t wish for more at the moment.

  He was in dangerous territory. If he wasn’t careful he could find himself feeling things he never intended, never wanted to feel.

  …

  At first light, Mari slid out from under Cameron’s heavy arms and left for the kitchen. She didn’t want to be around when he woke up in a foul mood with a headache and stomach issues. Although…he’d spoken to her in the middle of the night as if he was as sober as she. Maybe the whisky worked differently on a man of his size.

  She liked helping in the kitchen. Her sister spent a lot of time there, though Kenna had promised her husband she wouldn’t lift a finger while in her condition. The women told stories and shared tales. Occasionally they’d complain about their men or their bairns.

  They never asked Mari probing questions or hinted that they knew why she was living there. She suspected if she told them, they would listen and keep it to themselves. She just hadn’t grown accustomed to having friends yet.

  Her maid, Lucy, had been her only true friend. There had been women from court, but she couldn’t call them friends. They were catty women who had preyed on gossip and were just as happy to make something up if it was a dull day.

  It was nice to be accepted as she was.

  She was about to ask the women if Scottish men did not wake up ill after drinking, when she remembered her sister’s advice from the day before.

  The letter.

  Good lord. She’d forgotten all about it when Cameron stumbled in the night before. Even now, it was sitting in their room for him to find when he woke.

  She jumped up. “Excuse me, I forgot something very important. I’ll be right back.”

  She opened the door and only got a few steps from the kitchen when she encountered Cameron coming toward her. He was smiling, which was more than she’d expected in his state. He was also clean and bright-eyed, despite being up earlier than drunken men generally
rose. He seemed to have suffered nothing for his indulgence the night before.

  “May I speak with you, Mari?”

  “Of course.” Her voice cracked with nervousness.

  Had he found the letter? Had he read it?

  He didn’t look angry…far from it.

  He took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I wondered if you might want to go for another ride with me this morning, since we didn’t see much yesterday. We can take a meal with us and eat it by the river if you’d like.”

  After what had happened the day before, she hadn’t expected him to want to try again. Too overcome with emotion to speak, she just nodded and hoped he could tell how pleased she was to be invited. Especially since he was in a good mood with no signs of overindulgence from the night before.

  The morning sun exposed the hints of red in his brown hair as she followed him to the stables. The fear from the day before wouldn’t return. She knew he wasn’t taking her out of the castle to harm her where no one would hear. He merely wanted to show her their lands.

  The pride on his face told her how happy he was to have a place of power here.

  Like the day before, she followed him out of the bailey. He paused until her horse came up next to his. When she fell behind again, he stopped. It took far too long for her to realize he wanted her to ride next to him. She made sure to keep up when he started off again.

  “I don’t know if ye remember, but that stand of woods over there is where you came running into my life.” He smiled. “We canna see the field from here. It’s on the other side.”

  She nodded.

  “The river is just beyond this small hill. Be careful, though, it’s misleading. There’s a steep cliff on the other side. We’ll skirt around to the right. There’s a place where it levels out. It’s a fine place to rest and eat.”

  She looked up at the blue sky of a perfect day, allowing herself to be happy. She was safe here. The woods, while dark and sinister when she’d been running through them for her life, were actually lovely in the way the sun filtered through the leaves, making everything below glow a brilliant green.