“But I was so afraid,” she confessed.
“Of course you were! That just emphasizes your courage—and your unselfishness.”
“But why…?” she began.
“Why did I call you selfish? I guess because I was so hurt, because I love you so much and you didn’t love me. And to tell the truth you sometimes make me feel very mortal. I’m afraid I don’t have half your courage.”
“Oh, Stephen, that’s not true. You’re very courageous. You took on four Englishmen with only a bow when we were at Kirsty’s the first time. And it took great courage to give up your English clothes and become a Scot.”
“Become a Scot?” he asked, one eyebrow raised. He was very serious. “Once you said you’d only love me if I became a Scot.”
He waited but she made no answer. “Bronwyn, I love you, and the closest wish to my heart is that you love me also.” He put his finger to her lips and gave her a threatening look. “And if you repeat all that about ’of course we’re fond of each other,’ I may break your pretty little neck.”
“Of course I love you, you fool! Why do you think my stomach aches and my head swims when you’re near? And it grows worse when you’re far away. The only reason I went with Roger Chatworth was to prove to you that I wasn’t selfish. I would have done anything to make you love me.”
“Running off with my enemy is not likely to prove you love me,” he said coldly, then he began to smile. “Are you saying you love me or that I make you ill?”
“Oh, Stephen,” she laughed, realizing he believed in her. He didn’t accuse her of sleeping with Roger Chatworth. He was beginning to master his jealousy!
Suddenly they both stopped and stared. A sharp movement in her stomach had been felt by both of them.
“What was that?” he asked.
“It felt like a kick,” she said in wonder. “I think your child just kicked us.”
Stephen rolled off her and reverently caressed her stomach. “Did you know about the baby when you left me?”
“I didn’t leave you,” she pointed out, “but yes, I knew about it.”
He was quiet as he held his hand warmly against her bare stomach.
“Are you happy about our child?” she whispered.
“A little frightened perhaps. Judith lost her first child. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
She smiled at him. “How could anything happen with you around to protect me?”
“Protect you!” he exploded. “You never listen to me, never do anything I say. You drug me. You leave my family’s protection in the middle of the night. You—”
She put her fingers to his lips. “But I love you. I love you very, very much and I need you. I need your strength, your level-headedness, your loyalty, and your peacemaking ways. You keep me and my clan from declaring war on our enemies. And you make us see that the English aren’t all ignorant, greedy, lying—”
He gave her a soft kiss to quiet her. “Don’t ruin it,” he said sarcastically. “I love you too. I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you with your clan. I’d never seen a pretty woman, except Judith, who was any more than an ornament. It was a shock to see your men listen to you and see the way they respected you. It was the first time I saw you as something besides…”
Her eyes sparkled. “A good romp in bed?”
He laughed. “Oh, yes, most definitely that” He began to kiss her more seriously, his hands on her body.
“Stephen,” she whispered as he kissed just behind her ear. “Tomorrow I meet with the MacGregor.”
“That’s nice,” he murmured, moving down to her neck. “Very nice.”
She moved her head so he could kiss her mouth.
Suddenly he jerked away from her. Rab gave a little bark of alarm. Stephen stared at his wife in horror. “You jest!”
She smiled sweetly. “I meet with the MacGregor at dawn tomorrow.” She lifted her head and began kissing him again.
He rolled away, then jerked her upright. “Damn you!” he said through clenched teeth. “Are you starting again? No doubt the meeting is alone in some secret place.”
“Of course it’s alone. I can’t very well ask my clan to accompany me. I intend to settle this war before I enter into it more fully.”
Stephen closed his eyes for a moment and tried to calm himself. “You cannot meet this man alone. I forbid it.”
Disbelief registered immediately on Bronwyn’s face. “You what? You forbid it! How dare you! Do you forget that I am the MacArran? Just because I love you doesn’t give you rights over my duties as chief.”
“Will you shut up a minute?” he demanded. “You always believe I’m against you. Now listen to me. Who else knows of this meeting?”
“Harben is the only one. He arranged it. We were afraid to even tell Nesta that the time was set, for fear it’d get her hopes up.”
“Get her hopes up!” he gasped. “Is that all you think of? Consideration for others?”
“You make it sound like something evil.”
“In your case it sometimes is.” He again tried to calm himself. “Bronwyn, don’t you realize that you must, at times, think of yourself?”
“But I am! I want peace for my clan.”
Stephen looked at her with great love. “All right, listen to me. Picture this if you will. You and the MacGregor meet in some lonely spot, no doubt in the fog, and the only person who knows about the meeting is Harben. What if the MacGregor decided to end his feud with the MacArrans by killing their laird?”
“That’s insulting!” she gasped. “This is a peace meeting. The MacGregor wouldn’t do that.”
He held his hands heavenward as if for help. “I can’t get you to see any middle ground, can I? Six months ago you hated everything about the MacGregor, and now you plan to turn your life over to the man.”
“But what else can I do? If the MacGregor and I reach some sort of peaceful agreement, we can stop the killing. Isn’t that what you wanted? Haven’t you always said you wanted the feud ended? Our private war caused the death of your friend.”
He grabbed her and hugged her to him. “Yes, I agree with you. I want all those things—but when I think of what it could cost! How could I let you go out there alone and meet with a man twice your size? He could kill you with one blow.”
She lifted her head, but he pushed her down again.
“You won’t go alone. I’m going with you.”
“But you can’t!” she exploded. “The message was for me to be alone.”
“You already carry another person, so what does one more matter?”
“Stephen…” she pleaded.
“No!” He glared at her. “For once you’re going to obey me, do you understand?”
She started to argue, but she knew it was no use. Truthfully, she was glad he was going with her. She lifted her face for his kiss.
He just touched his lips to hers then pulled away.
She looked up in surprise.
He nodded toward the window. “Unless I’m wrong, it’s about an hour before sunrise now. I think we should leave.”
“We couldn’t spare even a few minutes?” she asked wistfully.
“You’re a naughty child,” he teased. “Now let’s get dressed and go conquer the MacGregor as you’ve conquered me.”
She lay back in the hay and watched him as he dressed quickly. Too soon was his strong body covered. And to think she once thought of him as her enemy! “You, my lord, are my conqueror,” she sighed, then reluctantly began to dress.
They sobered as they saddled their horses and prepared for the short journey to the meeting place. Stephen considered locking Bronwyn in the barn and going alone, but she, seeming to sense his thoughts, refused to tell him where she was to meet the MacGregor.
The meeting place was as Stephen had thought—secluded, enclosed by rock, lonely-feeling with its heavy shroud of fog.
As soon as he dismounted, Stephen felt the point of a sword at the base of his neck. “And who are you?” t
he MacGregor growled.
“I came to protect her,” Stephen answered. “Laird though she is, she doesn’t meet men alone.”
The MacGregor looked at Bronwyn, tall, slim, beautiful. She held the enormous dog in check as he threatened to attack the big man. The MacGregor laughed and sheathed his sword. “I don’t blame you, boy. Though she might need protection for some reason other than the one you mean.”
Stephen turned to meet the man eye to eye. “I’ll protect her in all ways,” he said with meaning.
The MacGregor laughed again. “Come over here and sit down. I’ve given this idea of peace some thought, and the only way I can see is to unite the clans in some way.” He looked at Bronwyn as she sat down on a rock. “I’m not married any longer. Had I seen the MacArran earlier I would have offered for her.”
Stephen stood behind his wife and put his hand possessively on her shoulder. “She’s taken and I’ll fight—”
“Stop it, both of you!” Bronwyn demanded, shrugging Stephen’s hand away. “You’re like two rutting stags clashing. Stephen, if you do not behave you’ll have to return to Harben’s.”
The MacGregor laughed.
“And you, Lachlan! I’ll have you know there’s more to the MacArran than a face! If you can’t deal with me on an intelligent level, perhaps you can send one of your chieftains.”
It was Stephen’s turn to laugh.
Lachlan MacGregor raised one eyebrow. “Perhaps I don’t envy you after all, boy.”
“She has compensations,” Stephen added smugly.
Bronwyn wasn’t listening to him. “Davey,” she whispered.
Stephen stared at her as he began to understand what she meant. “He tried to kill us,” he said quietly, but Bronwyn’s look stopped him. He understood what she felt: blood was thicker than water.
He turned to the MacGregor. “She has an older brother, about twenty. The boy is going crazy with jealousy. Rather than stay in a clan where his younger sister is laird, he’s hiding in the hills somewhere. Recently he made an attempt on our lives.”
The MacGregor frowned, nodded his head. “I can understand the boy. I would have done the same thing.”
“Understand him!” Bronwyn said. “I’m his laird. He should have accepted what our father said. I would have accepted him.”
“Of course,” Lachlan waved his hand. “But you’re a woman.” He ignored her sputters.
Stephen smiled warmly at the MacGregor.
“I have a daughter,” Lachlan continued. “She’s sixteen and a pretty little thing and as sweet and pliable as a woman can be.” He gave one look at Bronwyn. “Perhaps we could arrange a marriage.”
“What else do you offer him besides your insipid daughter?” Bronwyn asked levelly.
Lachlan winced before he answered. “He can’t be laird, but he can be chieftain. It’s more than he has now, and he’d be the laird’s son-in-law.”
“He’s a hot-tempered lad,” Stephen said. “That’s why Jamie MacArran didn’t name him as chief.”
“You’ve never even met him!” Bronwyn said. “How do you know what he’s like?”
“I listen,” Stephen said in dismissal.
“I can handle him,” Lachlan asserted. “I’ll not die as early as Jamie did and leave the boy alone. I’ll keep him with me always and teach him the right ways. I’d rather have an angry young man than a placid one. I can’t abide a man, or woman,” he smiled at Bronwyn, “with no spirit.”
“I can vouch for the spirit of the MacArrans,” Stephen laughed.
“I’ll wager you can,” the MacGregor chuckled. “This Davey should make my daughter happy if he’s anything like his sister.”
Stephen grew serious. “What will your clan say when you bring in a MacArran?”
“They’ll not say anthing to me, but they’ll have a lot to say to young Davey. Let’s hope he can handle it.”
Bronwyn stiffened. “My brother can handle any MacGregor.”
Lachlan laughed, then put out his hand to Stephen. “It’s settled then.”
The MacGregor turned to her. “Now you, young woman, I owe you for a B I still carry on my shoulder.” He grabbed her and kissed her on the mouth heartily.
Bronwyn looked quickly at her husband, worried about his jealousy, but Stephen was looking at them fondly. They stood together as Lachlan rode away. Bronwyn turned to him. “In the future I wish you’d remember that I am the MacArran, as I have shown you tonight.”
Stephen smiled lazily. “I plan to change that.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Didn’t I tell you I petitioned the king to change my name?”
Bronwyn stared at him stupidly.
“My name is now Stephen MacArran. Aren’t you pleased?”
She threw her arms around his neck and began covering his face with kisses. “I love you, love you, love you! You are a MacArran! This will prove to my clan that you can be trusted.”
Stephen hugged her and laughed. “They never doubted me. It was only you.” He pulled her closer. “Bronwyn, we’re not enemies any longer. Let’s try to be on the same side.”
“You’re a MacArran,” she whispered in awe.
He stroked her hair. “Everything will be all right now. I’ll go find Davey and—”
“You!” She pulled away from him. “He’s my brother!”
“The last time you saw him he tried to kill you!”
Bronwyn dismissed this. “He was angry then. All my family has a temper. He won’t be angry when he hears my plan.”
“Yours! I believe it was a joint effort.”
“Possibly, but Davey will still only listen to me.”
Stephen started to speak but then kissed her instead. “Could we continue this later? I suddenly feel something’s come between us.”
She looked up at him innocently. “My stomach?”
He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. “How does it feel to kiss the MacArran?”
“I am the MacArran!” she said. “I…”
She couldn’t say any more because Stephen’s hand had slipped down to the back of her knees.
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Sparks fly in this sexy, evocative Regency romance, the first in Meredith Duran's Rules for the Reckless series!
Your Wicked Heart
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Books by Jude Deveraux
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Velvet Song
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Twin of Fire
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The Princess
The Awakening
The Maiden
The Taming
The Conquest
A Knight in Shining Armor
Wishes
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This book is a work of historical fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents relating to nonhistorical figures are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance of such nonhistorical incidents, places, or figures to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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