"Finley, it is obvious my safety is not at risk here. Wait for me below." Elen stepped out of the way to allow Cerdic to pass. The two men disappeared into the stairwell, closing the door behind them.
Elen strode toward Rosalyn, who was still seated as if she were the queen. "What, by God's bloody bones, do ye think you're doing?"
Roslyn shrank back in the chair. She blinked. "I knew ye would be angry with me."
"Angry with ye!" Elen shouted. "I want to lift your head from your shoulders. I want to draw and quarter ye. I want to dip ye in a pot of boiling water and watch the flesh roll off your lovely face."
Rosalyn gave a wave. "'Egods, Elen, must ye speak thusly? 'Tis early, and I have nae eaten." She reached for the cup of ale. "Ye will sicken my stomach so that I cannae eat a thing."
"What are ye doing here?" Elen demanded. "What are ye doing with Cerdic Forrest?"
She smiled. "He's been so kind to me."
Elen glanced at the bed and its rumpled linens. "It appears he has been more than kind to ye."
"Must ye be so crude, sister?" Roslyn rose from her seat.
"Ye have nae answered my question." Elen ground her teeth, now beyond impatient. "Why are ye here and what are you doing with that mon who is nae your husband?"
Rosalyn blinked innocently. "Well, he kidnapped me, of course." She walked to the bedstead and grabbed one of its massive posts. "There was naught I could do but succumb," she said dramatically. "I feared for my life."
"Feared for your life, my rosy arse!" Elen spun away angrily, her thoughts running in a thousand directions at once.
She held Munro, Earl of Rancoff, falsely. What would the Bruce think of that when he heard? What chances would she have of regaining Dunblane land now?
The betrothal agreement between Rosalyn and her cousin would obviously have to be broken.
Just what was Elen going to say to her men when she returned with her little strumpet sister? How could she possibly keep what she had seen here a secret?
"Ye see, I knew you would be angry." Roslyn pouted. "I knew ye would nae understand."
"Understand?" Elen felt as if she breathed fire. "Understand? Do ye ken I captured Munro Forrest, laird of this keep, more than a week past? Do ye understand he has been living in my oubliette, dining with the rats off water and bread scraps?"
"Oh!" Rosalyn shuddered. "Ye dinnae really put a mon in that thing, did you? Why in heaven would ye do such a thing?"
Elen covered her face with her hands, praying to God to keep her from strangling her sister. Surely Murdoch Burnard was rolling in his grave in Dunblane's kirkyard at this very moment.
"I thought ye had been kidnapped!"
"I had."
"I thought ye were in danger of death or great peril," Elen continued, not daring to take a step closer for fear her fingers would close around her sister's neck and she'd not be able to stop herself. "I took that mon to exchange his life for yours. To rescue ye."
"He isnae a very nice mon, ye know. He's mean to Cerdic. And Cerdic is such a deary. Utterly misunderstood."
Elen walked to a narrow window to gaze down at the courtyard below. Snow was beginning to fall in light, powdery flakes.
"What am I going to do with ye now?" Elen said quietly. She was beyond rage. Now she felt only quiet resignation.
Rosalyn plopped herself on the edge of the bed. "Do with me?"
Elen, of course, had no choice. There were no alternatives. She could not marry Rosalyn off to the cousin now. Her sister had literally made her bed, and now she would have to lie in it.
Elen calmly turned to Rosalyn. She would deal with one matter at a time. First Rosalyn and Cerdic. Then Munro.
"Ye must marry him."
Rosalyn jumped up, her tiny bare feet slapping the stone floor. "What?"
"Ye heard me." Elen started for the door, her mind made up. She was already pondering how she would deal with her prisoner. Besides, if she did not get out of this chamber and away from the cloying smell of French soap and lechery, she would surely be sick. "Ye will marry Cerdic Forrest and ye will do it by week's end."
The cup Roslyn hurled through the air missed Elen entirely and struck the wall.
Her sister always had been a bad shot.
Chapter 12
"Ye summoned me?" Munro's tone was sharp.
Elen presented her back to him and put out her hands to warm them by the flames that blazed in the great hall's fireplace. Overhead, the white shell of the Burnard horn of retention glimmered, as if mocking her. As the laird of this castle, she felt utterly incompetent. She didn't know if she was doing the right thing in forcing Cerdic and Rosalyn to marry, but how else could she save what honor Rosalyn had left?
Still, she feared she had handled the entire situation badly from the beginning. Surely there was some way she could have brought about different results, but how, she did not know.
"I wanted to tell ye how sorry I am for what has transpired," Elen told Munro, carefully keeping any emotion from her voice. "I rode to Rancoff this morning and spoke with my sister and your brother. The situation is much as ye guessed, and I have held ye falsely." She took a trembling breath and continued. "I make my sincere apology, sir. I can do no more."
He grabbed her arm and spun her around. "Ye can look at me when ye speak."
She forced herself to lift her gaze. A lump rose in her throat. No one could know how she felt about this man or what had happened between them. "Munro, please," she murmured, noting her men were watching with keen attention. She need only give the word and they would come down upon him without mercy. "Let go, else they will come to my aid."
"Ye erred and so now I am simply free to go?" He lowered his voice, slowly loosening his grip. "I am nae your hound to be dismissed at will."
"I am nae releasing ye." She yanked her arm from his grasp, unable to stand the heat of his touch. She could not bear the thought of the deeper heat that had all but consumed her last night without wanting more. "I brought ye up to apologize and to have you moved to more comfortable quarters. Ye will remain there until my sister and your brother agree to wed." She didn't know why she was angry with him. Because he had made her feel the way he had? Because she cared for him and did not want to?
He gave a laugh but he was obviously unamused. "I am nae free?"
She tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear, setting aside any misgivings. She had the upper hand here, and she would keep it. "I believe my sister and your brother must wed immediately, though they do nae yet see my way of thinking." She looked him directly in the eyes. "I cannae, in good faith, release ye until your brother agrees to marry my sister."
He stared at her for a moment, shifting his jaw one way and then the other. Elen was not afraid of him, but she could tell by the light in his stormy green eyes that he could be a dangerous man.
"Cerdic took advantage of her?"
It was Elen's turn to chuckle humorlessly. "Or she of him. I cannae yet say."
He let out a sigh, glancing away, but not at anything in particular, then back at her. He was a man who chose his words carefully, and she appreciated that characteristic.
"I am sorry," he said finally, "for what my brother has done. I am ashamed—ashamed for him."
"'Tis nae your fault." Again, she shifted her attention to the warmth and light of the fire. Right now, she would have felt more comfortable standing upon the red-hot coals than under Munro's scrutiny. "Ye cannae be responsible for all that your kin do."
"And ye do nae feel responsible in any way for what your sister has done?" His tone was soft, yet probing at the same time, and it made her uneasy. He was trying to learn more about the way she thought, why she acted the way she did. He was trying to get under her skin.
For a moment, she could not respond to his question. She wondered how this man could know her so well—not just her body, but her mind... her heart. How could he know how guilty she felt at this moment for subjecting the entire castle to Rosalyn's lascivious whim?
<
br /> "I always knew my sister wasnae quite what she appeared to be." Elen lifted her shoulder. "But honestly, what woman is?"
"Ye."
The word came from his mouth like a breath of warm air on the seashore, and again she could not meet his gaze.
Munro took a step closer. "Elen, what did ye see within Rancoff's walls? What did they say? What excuse did they offer?"
She shook her head. "None." She looked to him. "Absolutely none at all."
He swore beneath his breath. "And yet they nae wish to marry?" He raised his voice angrily. "What did they think would be the end result of such waggery?"
"I honestly cannae imagine. I suppose Rosalyn thought she would dally with her bonny neighbor a few days and then invite him to her wedding feast come Candlemas."
"Aye, her betrothal. I am sorry. What will ye do?"
"What can I do? I will send him a message of humble apology merely saying Rosalyn cannot wed him because she ran off and married another. There will be some talk of scandal, but 'twouldn't be the first time a maid married a man other that the one chosen for her by her father." She hesitated. "What is important now is that Cerdic and Rosalyn marry without delay. Then we can all put this ugliness aside and move on."
Munro rested his hands upon his hips. "Release me and I will ride to Rancoff. I will drag Cerdic to the kirkyard step myself, if necessary."
She folded her arms around her waist. She wanted to let him go, yet she would not vacillate. She had made the decision to hold him, and hold him she would. "I cannae let ye go."
His brows knitted. "Why? I wish to see them married as quickly as possible as well. After this behavior, you are right. There's nothing else to be done but get them wed before everyone in the Highlands hears of this little escapade."
Her bailiff caught her attention and Elen signaled she was coming. "I cannae set ye free because I told Cerdic if he dinnae agree to the marriage posthaste, I would hang ye by your bullocks until you were dead." She gave him a sweet smile, akin to one of Rosalyn's, and walked away.
* * *
"Please, Rosalyn," Cerdic pulled as he refilled her goblet with more wine from Rancoff's cellars. Munro would be angry that he had broken the seal on the keg, but surely he would understand a man in desperation. And he was doing this for his brother, wasn't he? Surely that bitch of a sister of Rosalyn's meant what she said when she warned she would hang Munro from his nuts if Cerdic did not marry Rosalyn.
Just thinking about it made Cerdic shiver.
And he did, indeed, want to marry Rosalyn. He loved her. There was only one wee problem. She did not want to marry him.
"Please," Cerdic begged, setting down the pitcher of wine as he perched on the side of the tick.
Rosalyn reclined in Munro's great bed, naked and unabashed. "Wedding ye wasnae the agreement when ye carried me off, Cerdic, love," she returned, sipping the sweet red wine.
He clasped her dainty hand and rubbed it to his cheek. "It was nae in the plan, but surely you thought it would be a possibility. Did ye truly think your sister would let you come home bedded, yet still to be wedded to your betrothed?"
She eyed him.
"And what now of your betrothed? Surely word will get out. He will not..." Cerdic struggled to find the right words. He did not want to insinuate that Rosalyn was tarnished goods, but in truth, that was how all would see her, even her own clan.
"Oh, shut up," she snapped, yanking her hand free from him. "Shut up and let me think. If my sister had nae abducted your brother"—she shot him an angry glare—"if he had nae been so stupid as to have allowed a woman to capture him, we would nae be in this position now."
Cerdic wrung his hands. The letter he had received from Munro had been rather disturbing. Munro was very, very angry, and Cerdic didn't like it when Munro was angry with him. Munro had threatened to disown him if he did not marry the Burnard girl posthaste. He swore he would banish him.
Cerdic had never meant for this little diversion to get so out of hand. He had never meant for Munro to be kidnapped. Who would have thought the red-haired lass, who was more man than woman, could have managed to abduct the great laird of Rancoff?
Originally, Cerdic's plan had been to keep Rosalyn hidden in his chamber for the night and then set her free on the morn. Munro never would have known. But then the ballsy sister had taken Munro and the situation had changed. Even then, Cerdic had only meant to keep Rosalyn a night or two and then make the exchange, but he had been unable to resist her womanly wiles.
Cerdic ran his hand down her bare shin and took her foot between his hands to massage her toes. "I would make ye a happy woman," he pleaded, giving one toe a lick.
She grabbed a walnut and a cracker from the bedside and snapped the nut open, letting bits of shell fall to her bare breasts. "I am already happy."
"I could give ye things another mon nae could." He climbed onto the bed to straddle her, letting his cod dangle enticingly before her.
Her eyes lit up.
The woman was more lustful than he.
He took the nutcracker from her hand and fed the last bit of walnut to her with his fingertips. As he straddled her hips, his member swelled and stiffened as it prodded her bare belly.
She wiggled under him.
He caught both her hands with his and held them down over her head, pinning her to the bed.
"Stop," she cooed. "You're hurting me."
"Marry me and I will hurt ye every night," he whispered. Then he thrust his wet tongue inside her ear.
She giggled. "But if I marry ye, what of my ambition? I had no true intention of marrying my cousin, either. I merely went along with my father and sister. I nae want to wed a second son."
He dragged his tongue along her jawline. She tasted of sweat and excitement. Cerdic loved excitement in his life. "Marry me," he breathed, "and your ambition will become mine."
She met his gaze, and the corner of her pink mouth turned up in a half smile. "Swear it?"
"Anything for you, pet," he crooned.
"All right," she conceded. "I'll marry ye, but on one condition." She brought a slender finger before his nose.
"Aye?" he panted, now fully aroused.
She gave him a shove, pushing him off her, onto the bed on his back. "I want to be on top."
* * *
"So..." Elen said.
"So..." Munro repeated, feeling foolish but not quite certain how to handle the situation. How did a man say good-bye to a woman who had falsely held him in her prison for more than a fortnight? And in the meantime, he had fallen in love with her. No manual of war or social graces covered that topic, he was certain.
They stood in Dunblane's outer bailey. Cerdic and Rosalyn had sent a message to the castle an hour before inviting both Munro and Elen to their wedding come Saturday. It was a clever message, with no indication they were being forced into the marriage or that Cerdic feared the repercussions from his brother if he did not. So... Munro was now free to go.
He glanced up at the sky. The sun shone brightly, warming his face. There had apparently been snow the previous day, and it had melted, making the castle's yard a quagmire of mud. There was a wet, salty smell to the air. It felt good to be outside again. It felt good to be free—and yet he lingered.
Elen had ordered his pony saddled and brought around from her stables. The shaggy steed had been well cared for in the time she'd held Munro captive. Not only had his mount been fed, but groomed and exercised as well. She was a good woman. A good leader.
"I shall come to Rancoff on Saturday for the wedding," she said quietly. "I will bring a few men."
"Ye are certain you do nae want the marriage to take place in your kirk?" He fiddled with one of his stirrups. It did not need adjusting, but it gave him something to do with his hands when what he really wanted to do was place them around her waist, then kiss her soundly.
"'Twould be no trouble to come here," he continued. Rancoff had no kirk. The church had been destroyed years before in the fighting.
"Considering the circumstances, your hall and a mon of the cloth will be sufficient."
"And ye do nae wish to have her sent home?" He gestured, feeling silly, knowing he should be off, but wanting to stretch out the moments he had left with Elen. He had made the decision to pursue her in earnest, but first things first. This matter between his brother and her sister had to be laid to rest.
"Ye know, to prepare. To pack her belongings," he said. "Whatever it is women do before they wed." Rosalyn would be joining his household, as was appropriate when a woman married into the Forrest family. Actually, it would be nice to have a woman's touch in the castle. His mother had been dead a long time.
"What they do before they wed?" She gave a snort that would have been undignified coming from any other woman, but from her only added to Munro's fascination. She shook her head in disgust. "Nay. Ye had best keep Rosalyn there. I cannae say I could be held responsible for my behavior should she step over my threshhold right now."
Munro lifted his head and gave a laugh, and surprising him yet again, she laughed with him.
He lowered his gaze to meet hers. She was dressed to hunt in green and brown woolens, a quiver of arrows strapped to her back. Aye, she appeared to be more male than female in the garb, but there was no denying her womanhood. There was a certain way her green eyes sparkled, the way her pink mouth turned up at the edges. And though she had pulled back her hair and tied it in a knot behind her head, wisps of bright golden red still managed to escape her plaid bonnet.
There was no denying it. Munro was in love. He was in love, and he had to have the woman. Have all of her, not just her body but her mind, her soul. He wanted her to love him as intensely as he knew she loved the stone walls that surrounded them.
"Well, I suppose I should be off," he said. Yet still he stood there, looking at her.
"Until Saturday," she said softly. And the way the words came from her mouth, he knew she had feelings for him as well. She just didn't know what to do with them.
"Until then." He offered his bare hand to her to clasp in friendship.
Highland Lady Page 12
