Her Reluctant Highlander Husband (Clan MacKinlay)

by Hanson, Allison B.

  Good to know, Dorie thought. Then her mind focused in on what Kenna had said.

  Her mouth dropped open. Bryce thought she was a spy?

  Kenna smiled with a hint of mischief. “Don’t fash. We can help you teach him a lesson.”

  Dorie blinked. She had no doubt that whatever Kenna had in mind would not please her husband.

  …

  Bryce was exhausted as he walked through the gates with the other men. The only thing he wanted to do was eat a good meal and fall into his bed.

  He wondered if his wife was still tucked under his covers wearing nothing but a shift.

  His body declared its interest in something other than food and sleep, but Bryce brushed the thought away quickly.

  When Liam met him in the hall looking anxious and confused, Bryce knew his plans for the evening had changed. “You’re supposed to be looking after my wife. Why are you here?”

  “Your wife is a bloody ghost, I swear it. She’s vanished on me three times today, and this last time I haven’t been able to find her anywhere.”

  “Did ye ask the other women where she may be?” Bryce nodded at Kenna and Mari sitting at the head table looking for all the world as if they were up to no good.

  “Aye. I did. They told me they saw her in six different places. I went to all six and didn’t find head nor hair of your lass. I think they’re mocking me.” Liam gave them a disgruntled look and they burst into giggles.

  “I’ll take care of it. Go find a meal.” Bryce frowned as he approached the table. Lach and Cam hadn’t arrived yet so he was on his own.

  “Good evening, Bryce,” Mari said sweetly.

  He wasn’t falling for her feigned innocence.

  “Aye. Good evening to you as well.” He rubbed his forehead, not hiding his exhaustion. “I’m almost too tired to eat after having spent the day working on building your new home. I surely hope my efforts please you, Mari.” He held out his blistered hands casually.

  The smile slipped from her face as a guilty expression seeped in.

  “I didn’t mind spending my day doing hard labor for you…though I might have used the time to check in with my sick wife. I asked the lad to watch over her and keep her safe, and it seems she’s missing. I hope she hasn’t been kidnapped.”

  He turned to a serving lass to address her with a grim look. “Lass, please bring food for my men. Despite our exhaustion from the day’s labors we must go back out and search for my wife, who’s been stolen away from the security of the castle. I hate to think who else might be in danger if someone was so bold as to—”

  “Stop,” Kenna said and shook her head. “She’s well and safe,” she added when the serving lass looked startled. Kenna sized up Bryce with a glare. “Your wife is back in her home. If you’re as worried over her as you say, I expect you’ll want to go check on her immediately.”

  “Why would you not want her to be protected?” he couldn’t help but ask.

  “Your men apparently do not understand the difference between protecting someone and keeping them prisoner in their own home. Dorie’s beast will protect her from any direct threat, and she has food and drink from the kitchen that’s safe enough.”

  Bryce sniffed at the thought of the small dog protecting her. But before he could point out their error, she went on.

  “We even have Millie’s sister and brother-in-law keeping an eye on her. Their cottage is just below Dorie’s. She’s safe.”

  Bryce couldn’t argue with that logic. It seemed they’d taken care of things.

  “Having a person looked after like a sheep being herded is humiliating,” Mari added. “It might make you feel better, but it obviously makes Dorie uneasy to be confined.”

  Another point he couldn’t argue. He’d seen it the first day he’d taken her to the cottage—her terror of being locked inside.

  He bowed. “Thank you for your counsel and for looking after my wife.”

  Bryce blew out a breath as he made his way to the cottage. The women had chastened him into shame over the way he was treating his wife. They’d made it quite clear what they thought of his having her guarded. Especially by someone other than himself.

  However, it was his duty as war chief to make sure no danger came to anyone in the clan. And it was also his duty as Dorie’s husband to make sure no danger came to her.

  He couldn’t help but think his day just kept getting worse.

  As he turned up the lane to the cottage, he tried to rein in his frustration. While he knew he was wrong, and he even knew Dorie had done nothing to earn his hostility, he couldn’t change his heart.

  He was angry at life and the way things had worked out.

  Many people would agree he had a right to his anger. However, the ladies who’d married his cousins weren’t among them. They encouraged him to give Dorie a chance. Both women had found love in their marriages and thus believed the world was full of the sentiment. All a person had to do was reach out and pluck the feeling of love from the air and one would be happy to the end of one’s bloody days.

  He paused, fearing he might wretch, and not from the trek down the hill. He could have lost Dorie. And missed the opportunity to get to know her better.

  When he reached the cottage he waited outside, even ducked under the open window for a moment, listening for Dorie’s singing, but all was silent today.

  His fist hovered for a moment at the door before he dropped it to the latch and went inside. It was his own cottage, after all, why should he have to knock?

  Dorie turned toward his invasion and a smile pulled up her lips a second before two large paws slammed into his shoulders.

  “Ye gads!” He pushed the dog off and gaped at the furry monster as he snuffled around Bryce’s feet. “Rascal?” He had to be at least two feet taller than he’d been when they washed him at the creek.

  Dorie laughed and the sound caused a twisting pain in his chest.

  He was struck with the vision of another woman smiling and laughing when he’d entered their home. The memory was so strong he even looked around on the floor for a wee lass crawling toward him. But Isabel wasn’t there. Neither was Maggie.

  They were both gone.

  This was no longer the home he had shared with them.

  He wouldn’t be able to scoop up his daughter and hear her giggle. He wouldn’t be able to kiss his wife and whisper promises of what he’d do to her later in the darkness when their child was asleep.

  That life was gone along with the cottage he’d deliberately burned down, though it all continued to haunt his memories.

  He swallowed back the pain, and Dorie’s smile faltered. As if she understood what had happened in his mind.

  Rubbing a hand over his face, he schooled his features into his normal scowl. He expected her to let it go. Of course, Dorie never did what he expected. Instead she came closer and took his hand. Tugging on his arm, she led him to a chair and motioned that he should sit.

  She poured him a cup of ale and set it before him. When he frowned at it, she shook her head and pointed toward the castle to let him know it was safe.

  Taking the other seat at the small table, she pointed to her lips and then to him. She cocked her head and pointed to her ear.

  Even though she hadn’t spoken a word, he knew exactly what she meant. He was supposed to tell her what was wrong, and she would listen.

  He wanted to explain why he’d had her followed and apologize for not trusting her. He’d planned to use guilt to earn her compliance, but to his surprise he opened his mouth and began speaking of something else entirely.

  “When I walked in and you smiled at me, you reminded me of my wife. That is, my first wife. Not that ye look like her at all. She was beautiful.” He took another sip of his drink and realized what he said. “You’re beautiful, too, don’t get me wrong. Just in a different way.”
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  She smiled and put her hand on top of his. Her cool skin offered comfort from the blaze of embarrassment burning through his body. When had he lost his ability to charm a woman? He used to have a silver tongue that made ladies smile. Now words bumbled out of his mouth without a care.

  “I’m sorry you got stuck with me, Dorie. I’m sorry I don’t have more to give you.”

  Her fingers brushed his cheek and he glanced up to see her shake her head. She pointed to herself then at her lips as she smiled. She was happy to be married to him.

  He didn’t know how he knew what she meant from her few gestures, but they were able to communicate on a level without words. He found it easier this way and knew it was the reason he hadn’t told her he knew she could speak.

  She pointed to his chest, in the vicinity of his heart, and then picked up a bannock from the plate and broke it into two pieces.

  When he nodded that, yes, his heart was indeed broken, she offered one piece to him while she nibbled on the other. He could only hope the analogy of his heart to the bannock had ended by that point.

  He smiled at the thought and watched her eyes light up. She was lovely when she smiled. Her blue eyes danced with a joy that drew him in. Before he knew what was happening, he leaned across the table and pressed his lips to hers.

  She didn’t move away, but she didn’t kiss him back. Not at first. He’d probably shocked her. Hell, he’d shocked himself as well. He was a breath away from pulling back when she wrapped her arms around his neck to hold him there. Her lips moved against his in a way that told of her inexperience.

  He wanted to teach her the way of kissing. Show her how great it could be when she opened to him, but he knew he wouldn’t stop there. He could already feel his body responding.

  It wasn’t fair to satisfy his lust when he wasn’t able to give her anything deeper. Rather than run away, as he had done before, he slowed the kiss and pulled back.

  She smiled, her lips shiny from their kiss.

  “You’re beautiful, Dorie. I wish I could be a real husband to you.”

  The smile faded and she touched her lips with two fingers as if to hold the feeling in place. She gave a small nod and lowered her gaze to her hands. He’d hurt her again without meaning to.

  He cleared his throat and got to the point of his visit. “The reason I stopped by was to make sure you are well. I’m sorry I put Liam to watching you without talking to you first. I’m used to having my orders followed, but you’re not one of my soldiers. I was worried whoever tried to poison you might try something else, and I want you to be safe.” He cleared his throat. “You’re my wife and it’s my duty to protect ye.”

  She nodded, still not looking at him. It was time to change the subject.

  “I also wanted to make sure you have enough supplies. I was told you visited the kitchen. I hope you learned more from the ladies than just bawdy talk.”

  Her cheeks turned a lovely rose, and he knew it was now a different reason that kept her from looking at him. He stood to go, and she jumped up and reached for him but let her hand fall back to her side without touching him.

  He wished she would have made contact as much as he wished she wouldn’t have tried.

  “Did you need something before I go?”

  She turned quickly and looked from one place to the next. A low sound of frustration came from her throat. He wasn’t sure, but he thought maybe she was frantic to find some reason for him to stay.

  Maybe if she’d talk to him, he could sit with her and they’d chat about the situation and how to move forward.

  “Dorie, I know you don’t talk, but…I think maybe it’s more that you don’t want to, rather than you aren’t able to.”

  She froze.

  “I’m not going to push you if you don’t feel comfortable, but know I’ll listen if you want to tell me about it.”

  A quick nod was her only answer. She wrapped her arms around her waist and he could tell she wasn’t going to talk to him today.

  Maybe someday soon. If only he could stop being such an arse.

  “If you need anything, let me know. It’s my duty to take care of you, and I mean to do it.” He opened the door and the dog ran after him. It was obvious now Rascal hadn’t been a small dog but only a puppy when Dorie found him. He was already huge, and who knew how much larger he’d get. Bryce might need to build a bigger cottage.

  He held the door open and the mutt ran back to his mistress, his huge tail wagging. Bryce felt something akin to jealousy when Dorie smiled at the dog and kissed his head. He shook off the ridiculous feeling. He couldn’t make Dorie happy, so why should he resent the person—or creature—that could?

  “If you’ll allow it, I’d like to send a guard to walk you to the castle tomorrow.”

  She nodded.

  “Thank you. Lock the door behind me when I leave.”

  He waited until he heard the proof of her compliance as the bar slid in place. She was safe for the night.

  He went back to the castle, feeling the loneliness surround him once again.

  Chapter Eight

  It was still dark when Dorie was licked awake by Rascal. She made a disgruntled noise of protest, having been disrupted from a particularly nice dream.

  She’d been with Bryce. He’d been smiling and laughing. He’d kissed her, as he had earlier that day.

  Another lick and a whine. Fine. She would get up and let the dog out. It would be better than him having an accident in the house. He was getting so large now she might have to get a shovel from the stables to clean up after him like they did a horse.

  She sat up and blinked. Then rubbed her eyes when they stung and tried to focus again. She smelled the smoke and jumped up to go out to the main room.

  A fire blazed in the middle of the room. The rug was in flames along with the back wall, cutting off her escape to the front door.

  She gasped, which only pulled in more smoke, causing her to cough and wheeze. She needed to get out. Already she felt dizzy.

  “Rascal, come,” she said, bringing him back to the alcove with her bed. She pushed the curtain away and tried to open the window, but it wouldn’t budge.

  It couldn’t possibly have gotten stuck in the few days since she’d had it open last. Looking out at the main room, she knew that route was hopeless. That window was her only way out. She hurried over to the fireplace, grabbed a piece of wood, and used the log to break the window. She swiped up a thick blanket to clear away the rest of the jagged glass so it wouldn’t cut them.

  “Okay, boy. Out you go.”

  She wrapped her arms around Rascal’s chest and heaved, but the beast’s feet only came off the floor a few inches.

  “Please. I can’t leave you in here. You have to go out the window. Go.” She pointed, but Rascal just sat whining at her.

  Panic started creeping in. She couldn’t leave him behind! But how to get him to move?

  The fire was licking at the shelves that held her food, but she managed to dart in long enough to grab the cheese.

  “Here we go.” She tore off a chunk and held it out, getting his attention. “Go get it,” she said and tossed the piece out the window. Rascal whined and put his paws up on the edge of the window. “That’s it, jump out. Go get the cheese. Go get it.” She tossed another piece and he leaped through the window like a stallion taking a hedge.

  She thought she heard cursing and a growl, but a beam came loose from the ceiling just then and crashed into the room. She had to get out now or she’d die.

  Scrambling up the wall, she leaned out and fell onto the ground headfirst, then rolled away under a bush where she closed her eyes.

  Thank God.

  For the second time in a matter of days, she gave in to the darkness.

  …

  Bryce had no sooner fallen asleep than someone was beating at his
door.

  He’d lain awake for hours remembering the kiss he’d shared with Dorie. Wondering what had made him do it. He decided it had been fear. His worries over her safety and wanting to win her trust so he could keep her safe. But he knew that wasn’t all it was.

  He’d felt something. Something more than just the need to keep her safe. A different need. Not purely physical, but intimate. She’d understood his pain, and he’d needed her closeness. Instead, he’d left.

  “What is it?” he grumbled when the pounding came again.

  “Your cottage is on fire. Come quick,” Liam called.

  For a second, still in a fog from sleep, Bryce pictured his old cottage. The one where he’d lived with Maggie and their little one. But if that home had still existed, he wouldn’t be sleeping in a room at the castle. Yet there was something else important that had him jumping out of bed to get dressed.

  Dorie.

  He hurried out of his room, still buckling his belt.

  Following the other men out the gate, he looked toward the village and saw flames.

  “Dorie,” he whispered when he saw the fire. Even from here he could see how far the flames rose from his cottage.

  His wife was in that house.

  He tore off at a dead run. He hadn’t so much as grabbed a bucket to help put out the fire. He didn’t know what he’d do when he got there, he just needed to get there. He ran the whole way.

  “Dorie!” he yelled—a fierce cry that carried over the crackle and hiss of the cottage as it gave in to the flames. Rascal came up to him. His bark was hoarse as he nudged Bryce in the leg with his big head. He barked again and turned toward the back of the house.

  When Bryce didn’t move fast enough he came back, barked, and tugged at Bryce’s kilt.

  “Where is she?” he asked the dog in desperation.

  In answer, Rascal led him over to a bush. Bryce was about to leave him to start searching when the bush moaned.

  “Dorie?” he cried, bending down to feel around in the shadows. Sure enough, his wife was under the bush asleep. No, not asleep. Unconscious. She was bleeding at her temple.