The Bride Chooses a Highlander

by Adrienne Basso

It never came.

  Chapter Fourteen

  By the start of the third day, Lachlan still had not given Katherine an answer and with each mile they rode, her hopes dwindled.

  Just as darkness began falling on the evening of that third day, they rode into an abbey courtyard. A tall, slender man dressed in the simple brown robes of a monk came out to greet them. His hair, as well as the neatly trimmed beard that covered his jaw, was streaked with gray.

  “I bid ye welcome, Sir Graham.” The monk’s eyes traveled swiftly over the large group, darkening with pleasure when he spied Katherine. “I see that ye have been successful in yer quest to locate yer sister.”

  “Aye, the Lord be praised.” Graham dismounted, then offered his hand to assist Katherine from her horse. “Brother Gregory is the monastery’s abbot. He provided us with shelter and a fine meal on our journey north to find ye.”

  “Brother Gregory.” Though stiff from hours in the saddle, Katherine managed a dainty curtsy.

  Hamish bullied his way forward, rudely interrupting the introductions. “Brother Gregory, I demand that ye take us to yer chapel immediately. Lady Katherine and I must wed without delay.”

  Brother Gregory’s eyes widened. “I am a monk, not an ordained priest, sir. In the eyes of the church, I cannae marry anyone.”

  “Then summon a priest.” The determination in Hamish’s eyes was strong. “There must be at least one in residence.”

  “Father Joseph has been called away to minister to a pair of children who have taken ill in a nearby village. I dinnae know when he will return to us.”

  “Send someone to fetch him,” Hamish ordered.

  He reached beneath his tunic and brought forth a small leather pouch. “I will pay the messenger well fer his time. And ye and Father Joseph also.”

  Katherine’s mouth dropped open and for a moment she found herself unable to breathe. The resolve in Hamish’s expression along with his stubborn demeanor was most troubling. She turned a frantic eye toward Graham.

  Help me, she mouthed in panic.

  “I mean no offense, Sir Hamish, but I must refuse,” Brother Gregory said in a dignified tone. “We are an order that embraces self-sacrifice and our commitment to the vows of obedience, chastity, and poverty willnae be abandoned. Father Joseph is doing the Lord’s work by comforting the sick. I cannae take yer money and ask him to spurn his responsibilities.”

  “If Father Joseph is unavailable to wed us, then ye must make an exception in these unusual circumstances. Accept these coins and perform the ceremony yerself,” Hamish bristled, his brows drawing together in an irritated frown.

  “Put that money away, Drummond,” Graham commanded, his voice laced with warning. “Ye’re insulting the abbot by attempting to bribe him into forsaking his vows and embarrassing us all.”

  “I am merely extending charity to those less fortunate, as is my Christian duty,” Hamish countered.

  “The gesture is fer achieving yer own aims,” Graham retorted. “If ye are so intent upon bestowing Christian charity, those coins are best served as alms fer the poor and destitute.”

  “Fine. I shall gladly donate the funds wherever my bride decrees. I shall make it her bridal gift,” Hamish said with a sly smirk.

  “Once again ye speak without thinking,” Graham said sharply, regarding Hamish with undisguised scorn. “There will be no marriage ceremony. Even if the priest returns before we depart, I’ll not allow my only sister to be wed without my parents in attendance.”

  Graham’s curt refusal caught Hamish by surprise. For a few tense moments they stared at each other.

  “She is my betrothed. ’Tis my right to marry her when and where I desire, as yer father decreed,” Hamish insisted. The coins jingled obscenely as he pounded the purse into the palm of his left hand.

  “’Tis my duty to see to the welfare of my sister,” Graham replied, his voice stern and unyielding. “Ye shall wait. And I warn ye, dinnae push my ire any further, Drummond. I promise ye’ll not be pleased with the results.”

  There was a flicker of uncertainty in Hamish’s eyes. His face reddened, his eyes narrowed. After another long, tense moment, he reluctantly replaced the pouch beneath his tunic. Then refusing to look at anyone, Hamish stalked toward the entrance to the abbey.

  Katherine slowly released her breath. Graham stepped beside her and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He smiled kindly, yet she swore she could feel her brother’s consternation. Whoever would have imagined that Hamish Drummond could cause her so much aggravation in such a short span of days?

  The matter was dropped for the time being, but this was far from over. Katherine knew she was treading a thin line. Hamish was almost certain to demand they marry the moment they arrived at McKenna Castle. She would have little time to make her case for avoiding the marriage to her father.

  Yet she clung to the notion that no matter what he believed, the McKenna would not allow her to be forced into the union against her will. Of course, all of that could be avoided if she arrived home married—to Lachlan.

  She glanced over at the MacTavish laird. He had remained quiet during the exchange, yet curiously stood behind her brother as he argued with Hamish. A silent show of support and solidarity? Or merely a coincidence?

  As the hour was late, the evening meal was immediately served to the weary travelers. Dinner was a quiet, awkward affair. The fare was simple, the portions generous. Most of the men, including Lachlan and Graham, ate heartily; Katherine was too distraught to do more than push her food from one side of her trencher to the other.

  She was also careful not to drink too much of the surprisingly good wine the abbot served them, knowing she needed to keep her mind clear and alert.

  Katherine sat as far away from Hamish as possible, wedging herself between her brother and one of the McKenna guard. The one time she did dare to glance in his direction, Hamish favored her with a belligerent look.

  A most absurd impulse seized her and she had difficulty resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at him. God’s teeth, it had been a long, exhausting, and tension-filled few days!

  By meal’s end, Hamish was slumped forward in his chair. He drained his goblet of wine, then signaled for the postulant to refill it, scowling at the nervous lad as he did his bidding. Katherine wrinkled her nose in disgust, amazed that she had once thought he would make a suitable husband.

  When the meal ended, Brother Gregory escorted Katherine to her chamber. “Ye look a wee bit faint. Is there anything that I can bring ye, milady?” he asked kindly.

  A husband? Katherine sighed and shook her head. She wasn’t faint or dizzy; instead she felt as though a rock had settled in the bottom of her stomach. Lachlan had paid her no heed throughout the meal. Indeed, he seemed to make a concerted effort to avoid her. She could only speculate on the meaning of his behavior, and any of her assumptions did not bode well for her future or her heart.

  Damnation!

  She bid Brother Gregory good night, shut the door, and allowed her eyes to adjust to the gloom of the small, simple cell, telling herself that the quiet and solitude would serve to help her absorb her disappointment.

  The silence however, didn’t last. Katherine heard the sound of heavy boots in the hallway. The iron latch lifted and a cloaked figure slipped inside.

  Lachlan!

  “We need to talk,” he said, closing the door firmly behind him.

  He gave her that pensive, intense look that always made her heart skip a beat. Was he here to deliver good news or bad? Katherine’s stomach curled with apprehension. She laced her fingers together, feigning a serenity that she was far from feeling.

  “Have ye made a decision about my proposal?” she inquired.

  “I’ve come to ask if ye are still determined to follow through with yer plan.” Lachlan widened his stance and placed his hands on his hips. “To be sure, Drummond is an arse. However, do ye truly believe yer father will force ye to wed him? ’Tis obvious to anyone with sight that the
two of ye are not at all suited.”

  “I dinnae want to believe that I’ll be forced, but anything is possible,” Katherine replied, wetting her suddenly dry lips. “I’ve given it considerable thought and have a strong inkling of how Hamish will approach the matter. He means to remind my father that the McKenna honor is at stake and it shall be a great blight upon it, if he allows the marriage contract to be broken. That might be enough.”

  “’Tis a good plan. One that I might also employ in similar circumstances. No Highland laird wants to be known as a man who reneges on his word.” Lachlan walked slowly around her, his gaze fixed upon her face. “Nor will the McKenna want ye to form an alliance with few benefits. Yer father will not approve of me. He’ll determine that I am an ambitious man, out to further my fortunes through marriage.”

  Katherine shrugged. “That is how many marriages are arranged.”

  “But not fer ye, Katherine. We both know that ye want something different, something more.”

  He looked so earnest, so sincere. Katherine felt a blast of guilt shiver down her spine. Lachlan had kept faith with her. He had found her when she was ill, saved her from Archibald Fraser, promised to return her home without a ransom.

  He had treated her with kindness, respect, and dignity. Withholding the full truth about her hopes for their possible marriage made it feel like a betrayal of sorts.

  “I must be honest, Lachlan. ’Tis not only the need to make certain I dinnae become Hamish Drummond’s wife that prompted my proposal to ye.” Katherine’s heart started thumping in hard, irregular beats. “I’ve developed a strong attraction to ye that I dinnae understand, that I cannae fully explain. All I can do is feel it.”

  He favored her with a gentle smile. “’Tis bothersome, isn’t it?”

  Mortified, Katherine turned her head and bit her lip. “Och, there’s no need to mock me.”

  “Ye misunderstand me, lass. Though I resisted, I feel it too.” He took her hand and held it between his own. “My blood heats and my heart quickens whenever I glance at ye. I swear, at times the need to kiss ye is so strong it weakens my knees.”

  “Why do ye resist?” she whispered.

  He raised his hand and lightly brushed her cheek with his knuckles. “I fear the spark I’m trying so hard to quell will ignite and the flames will scorch us both.”

  Katherine shivered. The sheer, solid strength of him nearly overwhelmed her. He was beautiful in a raw, rugged, masculine way that made her heart ache. There was no other man who could compare to him. Regardless of the circumstances, she was determined to have him. If not as a husband, at least as a lover.

  Katherine sidled near and trailed her fingertips sensually down his arm. “This attraction between us need not remain unfulfilled,” she said with a throaty voice.

  Katherine leaned against him, brushing her lips against his, softly, tentatively. Lachlan groaned. Encouraged, Katherine deepened the kiss, pushing her tongue inside the warmth of his mouth. He placed his arm around her waist, holding her tightly in place.

  Not that it was needed. Katherine doubted she could have moved away if the monastery suddenly caught on fire. Their kiss was filled with passion and honesty and she strained with the need to prove to him that he was the man she wanted. She would choose no other, accept no other.

  The ardor of their kisses slowly grew and Katherine’s need for him heightened with each stroke of their tongues. Lachlan’s hand moved slowly up her ribs and she angled herself close to his heat.

  Her breath caught when he cupped her breast, brushing across the sensitive nipple with his thumb. A tingle of intense pleasure bolted through her. She rocked her body against his, longing for more.

  Lachlan’s lips broke away from hers. His mouth glided down the curve of her neck, causing her body to shiver. Katherine’s hands reached urgently for him but he stopped their progress.

  “We must not.”

  “Why?” she cried in frustration.

  “Ye know why.”

  He nuzzled her temple and Katherine struggled to clear her head. How could Lachlan be so practical, so levelheaded in this moment? Did he not sense her yearning, hear the rapid pounding of her heart, see the excitement and desire in her eyes?

  “I’ve had three long, torturous days to consider our future,” he said hoarsely. “I’ve had countless discussions with yer brother and called upon my years of experience dealing with the powerful Lowland lairds to aid me in devising a strategy that will allow me to take ye as my wife and still protect my clan.”

  Katherine’s head reared. His wife? Did she hear him correctly? His words caused a riot of emotions within her, ranging from relief to excitement to concern.

  “Are ye truly prepared to face my father?” Katherine asked breathlessly. “I warn ye, there is no other like him. He is every inch the stubborn, proud Highland laird.”

  “I’m counting upon it.” Lachlan swallowed hard. “’Tis still a risk, but the odds are in my favor. Our favor. I’ve spoken with Graham and made all the arrangements with Brother Gregory and Father Joseph.”

  “Arrangements?”

  “Aye. ’Twas important to me that at least one male member of yer family gives us his blessing and attends this most solemn and important event.”

  Lachlan went down on one knee. Katherine gasped. He raised his head, held out his hands, and took hold of hers. “Will ye marry me, Katherine?”

  * * *

  The chapel was small, with beautifully embroidered cloths adorning the altar and an intricately designed metal cross hanging above it. Someone had taken the time to add another touch of beauty by also placing a vase with a small bunch of snowdrops in the center of the altar.

  Katherine smiled when she saw the delicate white flowers, an ironic reminder of the afternoon that she had left the safety of the MacTavish Keep with young Cameron and nearly been taken by the Fraser laird.

  Lachlan had saved her that day. Just as he was doing now. She noted that there were a number of McKenna retainers crowded into the small church and Katherine was pleased that she would not be wed in secrecy. She nodded her thanks to them as she walked down the small aisle with Graham and accepted the hand Lachlan held out to her.

  Brother Gregory assisted Father Joseph with the ceremony. Lachlan spoke his vows in a clear, strong voice and Katherine tried to do the same, pleased that her voice didn’t waver when she repeated the words that bound her to Lachlan for all eternity.

  As they knelt for the priest’s blessing, Katherine glanced at her brother. His expression was solemn, but he smiled and nodded his head. His approval warmed her heart. She was glad to have someone from her family attending her nuptials, demonstrating that no matter how her father reacted, she could count on her brother’s support.

  After the priest finished his blessing, Brother Gregory presented Lachlan with a scroll.

  “’Tis a record of the ceremony, signed by myself and Father Joseph. Despite the number of witnesses, Laird McKenna might require further proof of the validity of yer marriage and there are others who might challenge the union. Scores of men in the Highlands and Lowlands vied fer the hand of Lady Katherine and some will openly resent, mayhap even confront, the man who captured the prize.”

  Katherine appreciated Brother Gregory’s tact by not specifically mentioning Hamish Drummond, though they all knew to whom he was referring.

  “I shall hold and protect my wife at all costs,” Lachlan proclaimed in a strong voice, accepting the document.

  There was a rumble of noise as several of the men, led by Graham, started stomping their feet in approval.

  “Aren’t ye going to kiss yer bride, Laird?” one of the men called out.

  Lachlan glanced at Katherine, raising his eyebrows questioningly. She smiled. A kiss sounded like the perfect way to honor the vows they had just spoken.

  Lachlan bent his head. His kiss was light, gentle, a caress with not only his lips, but his tongue. Katherine felt a trembling begin deep inside her, a tantalizing prom
ise of what was to come. She savored the kiss, longing to explore the delightful cravings that had started swirling within her.

  To that end, Katherine boldly slipped her tongue along Lachlan’s lips, teasing him. He growled low in his throat and ran his hand down her back, cupping her bottom. She gasped at the intimate touch.

  Dimly, she heard the sound of a cough. Lachlan broke away. She stared up at him with luminous eyes, her heart beating at an irregular rhythm. His fingers caressed her cheek and his thumb slowly traced her damp, swollen lips.

  Her face flushed. Candlelight flickered in the chapel, bathing his features in an almost golden glow. He was a glorious male specimen—so strong, handsome, and powerful.

  And he was all hers!

  Katherine felt the ground give way beneath her at the realization and a nervous thrill shuddered through her body. There was so much to absorb in that moment that she had difficulty separating and understanding the myriad emotions swirling through her.

  There was relief that she was free of Hamish Drummond and a feeling of triumph that she had managed to escape a marriage to him. There was a sense of excitement and pleasure at becoming Lachlan’s wife. He possessed the courage and honor she most admired in a man and wanted in a husband.

  However, there was also a twinge of apprehension and uncertainty over their future. Lachlan’s initial reluctance in committing to the union concerned her—would he soon come to regret his decision if she didn’t please him? And what, precisely, did she need to do to make him happy?

  ’Twas almost sinful how good it felt to kiss him. Did he feel the same? His eyes told her that he desired her. Yet as he had so profoundly stated lust was not love. When a man’s heated blood needed to be quenched any female would do, and above all, she did not want to be any wench to him.

  She blushed at the feelings of desire Lachlan was able to evoke in her, even feeling a strange tremor when she heard the deep timbre of his voice. Always curious, she was excited at the prospect of greater intimacy with him.

  In his arms she felt the stirrings of great passion, the type she had always hoped she would experience with her husband. From what she knew of him, she believed he was a man who would not just take from a woman, but also give in return.