by Donna Grant
“I hope ye doona mind me help, milady. I doona think the laird would like ye cleaning.”
“I don’t care what he thinks,” Kate said. “But I’m glad for the help.”
Beth began to clean the hearth. “We’re all verra happy to see Laird Ewan finally wed.”
Kate shook out the new linens and kept her mouth closed since her reply wouldn’t be kind.
“Yer verra lovely, milady. The laird has made a good match.”
Kate looked up, startled by the servant’s kind words. “Thank you.”
She smiled and returned to the linens, but Kate now had a warm glow in her heart. Maybe this time it would be different for her.
The time passed quickly as they worked, and soon the master chamber was spotless. Kate stood back and looked at their effort. The feather mattress had been plumped, and with the deep green velvet bed hangings shaken out, the bed looked utterly inviting. A MacDonald plaid had been folded at the end of the bed, reminding her it wasn’t just her chamber.
They had even cleaned the sword and shield that hung over the bed. Both weapons looked ancient, and Kate wondered who they had belonged to.
“The laird will be grateful for what ye’ve done, milady.”
Kate crossed her arms over her chest and turned to Beth. “Maybe, but this should have already been done. Who’s in charge of the castle?”
“That would be Bridget, milady,” Beth answered softly.
Kate knew she needed to find this woman and set her straight on how the castle should be cleaned, but first she wanted something else.
“Would you show me the castle?”
The servant’s eyes lit up. “Aye, milady. I’d be delighted.”
There were many twists and turns and several sets of stairs she was shown as Beth led her through the castle. Kate tried to memorize them all, but she knew it would take some time before she truly learned her way around. As Beth walked, she told Kate the history of the MacDonalds and how they had come to have such power in the Highlands.
“Many wanted a match with Laird Ewan,” Beth said. “If a smaller clan could have had an alliance through marriage, it would have kept some of their enemies away.”
Kate shook her head. “Is that all the men do?”
“Milady?”
“Battle each other? Can the clans not live in peace?”
Beth smiled as if she were talking to the village idiot. “Ye’ll soon come to learn our ways, milady. We Highlanders are verra proud people, and our men are some of the best warriors.”
Kate found herself wondering if her husband was such a warrior, young and powerful and strong. But she knew she wouldn’t be so lucky. If Ewan was young, he would have his pick of women just as Beth said, and since she had never met him, she couldn’t imagine him choosing her, a Lowlander no less.
Another old man, then.
“This is the best view from the castle,” Beth said excitedly.
Kate chuckled and followed her up the winding stairs of one of the many towers. When she reached the top, her steps slowed as she walked to the window. She could only stare in amazement at the grandeur before her.
“’Tis me favorite spot,” Beth admitted. “I think ye’ll like it here.”
Kate nodded, lost in the sight of the sun sinking into the horizon as if the dark waters of the sea swallowed it whole. The sea reflected the vivid pink and purple that streaked across the sky. Time stood still as she watched the sun sink into the horizon. The dark fingers of night crept over the land, but just before the light faded completely, a sound from below drew Kate’s attention. She turned as Beth leaned out the window.
“What is it?” Kate glanced below, afraid they were under attack. The gates had been swung open wide though, so it couldn’t be an assault.
“The laird has returned,” Beth screeched. She whirled around, a huge smile on her face as she rushed from the tower.
Kate stared after Beth’s retreating form as she nibbled her lip in apprehension. So, her husband had returned. She peered out the window and looked for the eldest man in the line of Highlanders that rode through the gates, but her gaze was riveted on the black-haired man who rode at the head of the warriors.
He sat upon his steed as if he owned the world. She gripped the window and shifted to try and get a better look at him. It was too bad she was so high up because she would have liked to see the warrior’s face.
You’re married, Kate.
And it wasn’t something she was likely to forget, not with her husband now at the castle.
Her stomach fell to her feet. She turned away from the window and glanced down at her gown, which had become dirty from the cleaning. She couldn’t meet her new husband dressed as she was. If only there were time to get cleaned.
Kate groaned as she tried to rub away spots of dirt on the hem of her gown. The spots proved too difficult. She straightened and put a hand to her head. As much as she wanted to delay the meeting, she couldn’t. Laird Ewan had arrived home, and he would be expecting her.
She took her time as she descended the stairs. If she was fortunate, maybe she would get lost on her way to the great hall.
Somehow, she managed to navigate the corridors with only a few mishaps and soon arrived at the stairs to the great hall.
Kate glanced down at the people milling about, trying to get a glimpse of her husband before she was introduced to him. She wiped her clammy hands on her skirts and squared her shoulders.
“Milady,” Beth said with a gasp as Kate descended the stairs. “I’m sorry I left ye.”
Kate waved away her words. “Think nothing of it.”
Servants and the men who had accompanied her to the castle stood in the great hall as if waiting for the king of Scotland. Kate swallowed nervously and looked about. It was as if everyone was arranged just so, and she didn’t know where to stand. Since she didn’t want to move to the front, she gradually walked to the side until she stood next to the hearth and the blazing fire.
Kate clasped her hands in front of her and wished some of the heat would come back into her bones. She liked her new spot. It would give her a chance to view her husband first and see him interact with his people before she made her presence known.
Two heartbeats later the door to the castle flew open, and the black-headed warrior filled the doorway. His gaze scanned the hall, passing over Kate twice before he stepped inside and moved into the great hall.
“Welcome home, laird,” Rory greeted him.
Kate’s heartbeat quickened when she realized her new husband was not the frail man she expected, but a young, viral warrior. She glimpsed her husband’s wide shoulders and thick arms. His saffron shirt gave her a glimpse of his chest and the black hair that curled there.
His sleeves were rolled up, exposing tanned, muscular forearms. Her gaze traveled down his trim waist to the end of his kilt. Slung across his back was a vicious-looking sword, reminding everyone he was a warrior. And laird.
She couldn’t help but notice he wore the MacDonald plaid like a king wore a crown. And to the MacDonalds, he was king.
“I was told my wife arrived.” His deep, clear voice filled the hall. “Where is she?”
Beth’s eyes widened as she turned her gaze to Kate. Kate took a deep breath and tried not to let the sting of his words affect her.
He had no idea what she looked like. She wasn’t sure what hurt worse: the fact that he hadn’t wanted to know what she looked like or that she wasn’t worth his time.
Both only fed her anger. She wanted to storm from the hall, gather her belongings, and leave. She had known she would get a good idea of her husband by watching and listening, and she wasn’t at all impressed with the powerful Laird MacDonald.
Yet she couldn’t leave. If she didn’t do something soon, Beth or Rory would point her out, and Kate was too proud to slink away.
“I’m right here,” she said and stepped forward.
He swung around. Bright, clear blue eyes fringed by thick, black lashes l
ooked her up and down. His black hair hung loose about his shoulders in waves and was pulled away from his face by several tiny braids.
That face was enough to make any woman melt. He had a square chin and an angular face with wide, full lips and black brows that slashed over his eyes.
As he walked toward her, Kate had to tilt her head back to look at him, he was so tall. The sheer bulk of him, from his height to the width of his shoulders and the muscles bulging in his arms, gave her pause. She had seen big men before, but this Highlander commanded power like nothing she had ever seen.
Her body reacted with alarming speed as his gaze roamed freely over her. Her stomach fluttered and her heart pounded in her chest.
He’s certainly not old.
She hadn’t expected her husband to be so young or so disarmingly handsome. When his eyes stopped at her breasts, her nipples hardened and her sex clenched. For the first time in her life, she wanted her husband to take her to his bed and make love to her.
She swallowed and met his gaze, refusing to let him know how her body reacted to him. Her anger faded to something deeper, something stronger…something wanton.
His forehead furrowed and he crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re not the wife I chose.”
For a moment Kate thought he jested, but the anger sparking in his blue eyes told her otherwise. His words lashed across her like a whip. The hall went deathly quiet as they waited for her response. She might have considered being intimidated by her husband’s size and obvious power, but her fury overrode everything.
She drew herself up as tall as she could and glared at him. “Well, I’m the wife you got.”
3
Ewan blinked, unable to comprehend that the petite woman standing before him dared to talk back. She was attractive, with her dark blond locks and amber eyes that flashed in fury.
She was slim, and her curves were in all the right places. Her heart-shaped face gave the impression of an angel, but the stubborn tilt of her chin spoke volumes.
“Nay,” he said. “The woman I chose had golden blond hair and blue eyes.”
The woman snorted. “That is my sister.”
“Sister?” Ewan got a sick feeling in his gut. This couldn’t be happening to him, not after all the trouble he had gone to. “That’s the woman I paid for.”
His wife laughed, the sound devoid of humor. “Ah, then Da duped you. You foolishly thought he had only one daughter. You never gave him her name did you?”
“How could I give him a name when I didn’t know it? And no one calls me foolish,” Ewan growled. He dropped his hands and took a step toward her. Instead of running away or cowering as most did when he let loose his temper, the woman’s spine straightened even more, if that was possible.
Amber eyes glittered dangerously. Her gaze moved over him in much the same manner as he had subjected her. “It would have been simple courtesy to ask her name. Also, I never called you foolish. I said you ‘foolishly thought.’”
“Do not mince words with me, wench.” Ewan knew he should walk away until his ire cooled, but he was captivated by the spitfire.
“I have a name,” she said between clenched teeth. “Though you haven’t deigned to ask it. Instead, you’d like to stand there and make me feel inferior for your mistake.”
Ewan blinked. He was so taken aback he could only stare at her. Before he could form a response, she turned on her heel and stiffly strode away. He watched her leave, amazed she had dared to try to put him in his place.
Amazed…and excited.
She hadn’t only dared it, she had done it.
He should have been irate, but he found himself more stunned and even slightly admiring of the wench. He had always treated women decently, and his only excuse for not doing so now was that he had been deceived. Her father had known exactly which woman he wanted for his wife. Why the man would send this shrew to him when Ewan had never aggrieved the man was just…wrong.
“What are ye going to do?” Rory asked as he came to stand beside Ewan.
Ewan turned to his first in command. “Didn’t you realize the wrong woman was standing up as my intended bride?”
“In truth, nay,” Rory answered. “I only saw the girl from a distance, and even then only briefly. Munro produced her and the marriage was promptly performed.”
“Shite,” Ewan cursed. It was then he realized the castle was cleaner than it had been since the death of his mother. Had Bridget gotten everything in order for his new bride? “It’s clean.”
Rory and Beth opened their mouths to speak, but another voice, a seductive voice Ewan knew all too well, reached him.
“I told ye I’d take care of yer home, laird.”
Ewan turned to find Bridget leaning against the wall with her pert breasts thrust toward him. She gave him a sly grin, her lips full and pouty. Her dark hair hung down her back thick and loose, and her eyes all but undressed him.
“I’ve missed ye.” She straightened and walked toward him, her hips swaying seductively.
“I’m married now.”
She laughed softly. “It doesna sound as though she meets with yer approval. I told ye, ye should’ve taken me as yer wife. I’d have made ye happy.”
Ewan held up a hand to stop her from coming closer. It had taken him a few years, but once he realized Bridget’s claws dug deep, he made sure to stay as far away from her as he could. Though his body didn’t always listen to his mind.
Despite Bridget’s charms, Ewan could think of only one woman, and that woman had amazing amber eyes and a temper that might match his own. He’d set Bridget straight about sharing his bed later, once he spoke with his new wife.
“See to my men. They’re hungry.” With that, he turned and took the stairs two at a time to look for his wife.
He strode to his chamber to find the door slightly ajar. With a little nudge of his hand, he pushed the door open and found his wife standing before the hearth. Her arms were wrapped around herself and her gaze was fastened on the popping red orange flames.
Ewan took a deep breath and reminded himself to stay calm. With her temper and his own they wouldn’t get anywhere shouting at the other.
Exactly what I didn’t want in a woman.
Somehow he would get them out of this. There was always the possibility of an annulment, but he would have to see to it immediately.
She’s certainly passionate. And most likely passionate in bed.
Ewan grimaced. She wasn’t the woman he had chosen. She’d make his life a living hell. So why was he thinking of what their bedsport would be like?
He stepped over the threshold. She didn’t raise her head to acknowledge him or even appear to know he was in the chamber. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, wondering how he should begin. Women liked it when men apologized. Despite the fact he didn’t have anything to be sorry for, it would help him gain the information he needed.
“I should apologize.”
“Don’t bother,” she said without looking at him. “I’m sorry my father duped you, and I’m doubly sorry you won’t have my beautiful sister as your wife.”
Ewan let out a breath. He’d let his temper rule him below, and he had hurt her in front of his clan. He should have known better. “You have the advantage of knowing my name. Will you tell me yours?”
“Kate.”
He liked it. She was a woman with spirit, which she had proven in the great hall. He grinned as he recalled the sight of her face flushed with anger and how her chest had heaved. She would stand up against him on anything she believed she was right on.
In other words, she would disrupt the quiet I demand in the castle.
He wanted a biddable wife, a woman who would agree with everything he said and wanted, a woman who would smile graciously and do as he told her without argument.
Kate was the opposite of his idea of a perfect wife.
Ewan ran a hand down his face, his mind frantically trying to speak of ending the marriage without hur
ting her delicate feelings even more.
“The only way out for either of us is an annulment,” Kate said, as if reading his mind.
He pushed away from the door and walked to his bed, noticing how clean his chamber was. “Aye. There is that option.”
“’Tis our only option,” Kate said and turned toward him. “You haven’t bedded me. I’ll move to another chamber, and we can start the annulment process immediately.”
Ewan’s eyes narrowed as he sank onto the bed. It seemed he wasn’t the only one disappointed with his marriage. Since he didn’t want her, he shouldn’t be angered that she was so quick to want to get rid of him. Even if he was a prize catch in Scotland.
“I’m not what you expected then?” he asked.
“Nay. Let me explain just what my father has done to you. This is my third marriage.”
“Third?” Surely he hadn’t heard her correctly.
She nodded. “I was wed for the first time when I was four and ten. It lasted six months before he died. A year later, my father married me off again. That marriage lasted all of two months before he died choking on a chicken bone. I had expected to never marry again. Aye, I had even expressed that desire to my father who obviously didn’t take my wishes into account.”
“I’m your third husband?” Ewan looked at the young woman before him, unable to believe she’d been married twice before.
“Aye.”
“Did you kill your first two husbands?”
She stared at him a moment before she burst out laughing. When she straightened, she wiped at the corners of her eyes. “Both of the men had one foot in the grave when my father chose them for my husband.”
“And you had no choice but to return to your father because both men had heirs already, I suppose?”
“Precisely.”
He studied her a moment. To have a father marry her off for a third time seemed beyond cruel, especially when Ewan had chosen the other daughter. “You want out of this marriage?”
“I was hoping you were another old man, except this time without heirs.”
“Wouldn’t you want me to get you with child to ensure you always had a home?”