“How can this be?” Rob asked, feeling as if he knew where she was headed but encouraging her to go there just the same.
It took a foolish man to douse a spark rather than nurture it into a flame.
Kenna looked away from him and out into the crowd, clearly working through the position he had put her in. For a moment, Rob feared he had pushed her too hard and too soon. Blown on that ever so small spark with too much enthusiasm, sending it shuddering into oblivion. But then, she seemed to be a stubborn lass, and she eventually gave a hefty sigh before jutting her chin subtly toward one of the ladies who sat, alone, on one of the benches.
“That lady, the one in green, is a cousin on my mother’s side. Her father gambled away all of their money, putting them deeply into debt, further than any were willing to pull them from. Well, she met a merchant in Inverness; a kind man, able and willing to resolve a good portion of the debts just to have her hand. ‘Twas a welcomed and celebrated proposal. This morn, the maids gossiped about how she was found abed with a Munro. She claims she was forced, that he had a bit too much drink, but he claims otherwise. No witnesses could step forward to argue fer either, so Laird Munro vouched fer his man, and the Queen dismissed her complaint. When we leave tomorrow, she will be left without justice and without her virtue. I expect the engagement will fail just as soon as the rumors reach the merchant’s ear. She is not the only one. Similar stories fill the castle if ye listen fer them with open ears.”
“Do ye think of our wedding as one of those stories?” The question slipped from him before he had the sense to contain it.
Kenna’s eyes widened, even her bruise paling a few shades before she blessed them both by looking away. It wasn’t an answer, and yet it was. A wordless confession that even she, full of spirit and daring, wasn’t fool enough to speak aloud.
The wall between them, the one he had slowly chipped down, brick by brick, was back and higher than before.
The merriment in the hall did little to rouse either of their spirits after that. Once the Queen took her leave, the room erupted into unbridled pandemonium fueled by a seemingly endless supply of music, willing women, and drink. It wouldn’t be long until the chaos in the hall reached the head table, and the men would certainly be expecting a show from the newlyweds—one Rob certainly did not wish to give, especially given the course of his and Kenna’s last conversation.
Though his bride was silent, unmoved by the dancing and noise around her, she was just as deep into her cups as any, and he saw a glaze as smooth as a loch at dawn cast over her blue eyes.
“Let’s go.”
Kenna looked over at him, her eyes seemed confused and heavy with the weight of liquor.
“Where?”
“Yer bedchambers,” Rob replied in a near whisper.
That certainly caught her attention. Suddenly, she was sitting much more upright than before, looking this way and that in the hall as if she was a trapped deer looking for a way to escape a wolf.
“‘Tis still so early. The sky is still a bit light.”
“Aye, but not fer much longer. The sun has already set, ye ken. It will be dark by the time we get there if we leave now.”
“But—”
Rob reached over and pressed a finger to her lips. “If we go quietly, we may just avoid a bedding ceremony.”
She stared at him, unblinking.
“Unless, of course, ye wish to have an audience.”
She glanced out at the crowd again and the full understanding of what he meant hit her as quick as lightning. She jumped to her feet.
Rob was worried that after all she’d had to drink, she would just topple over, but the lass must have been an experienced drinker for her feet were steady. She even managed to slide her chair back silently, preventing it from scraping loudly against the stone floor and ruining their secretive escape.
Rob joined her, following her as she motioned him toward a side door and then out into the twisting castle passageways, dangerously allowing himself to enjoy the sashay of her gown as they went.
3
There was a man in her bedchambers.
It was a situation Kenna had never found herself in before. Of course, her brothers had come and gone as they pleased, typically leaving a trail of disaster behind them, but they hardly counted. This was an unfamiliar man and, to make it more difficult to grasp, her husband.
“Are you all right?” he asked, a hint of that annoyingly charming lopsided smile on his lips.
It was a smile that threatened to ruin her.
“Quite. Wine?” Kenna poured two goblets without waiting for a reply.
She had overindulged already, which was glaringly obvious by the way the room kept spinning around her. Yet, she had gotten herself here from the Great Hall without incident, so what was the harm of one or two more goblets? Maybe she would get lucky and wake in the morning without a single memory of the wretched evening to come.
He accepted the goblet and took a long sip, staring at her from over the rim. Did he ever stop staring? It had started at the wedding, with sidelong glances that he must have thought were secretive and sly. She had done him the favor of pretending not to notice, passing it off as the same sort of curiosity that had led her to stare at him in the courtyard. But then the feast had come, and his stares became more open and more blatantly tinged with a pout. Kenna had spent nearly the entire time checking her hairpins, sure that something had gone awry with her appearance to cause him such displeasure.
Admittedly, Rob Fraser wasn’t as bad as she had imagined him to be. She had begrudgingly allowed herself to laugh with him during the feast. Allowance of shared amusements had morphed into acceptance of him when he showed her that he was just as willing to laugh at himself as she was to tease. She had even been tiptoeing into a general interest in him after he allowed her to speak her mind so openly without repercussion. But then he had pressed her one step too far.
What had he expected her to say? “No, my Laird, I have always wished to wed a man who played a hand in my father’s untimely death; ‘tis all the better that we were only introduced when we took our vows.”
Though the label of fool had been cast around in jest, he clearly was not—at least not completely. So, had he truly seen the bruise upon her face and thought her to be a willing participant in all of this?
“Kenna?”
She fell quickly away from her thoughts and looked up at him. The smile had faded to concern.
“Aye, sorry, my Laird.”
“‘Tis all right. I was just asking ye about all of…” His hands indicated to the mess of needles and thread on the table. “… this.”
“Well, ye married a proper lady. A proper lady is to sit and stitch day and night,” Kenna said with at least half seriousness, thinking back mildly to all of the governesses that had impressed the skill upon her, and with such tenacity that Kenna had come to think an even stitch was more valuable to her life than a heartbeat.
“Really?”
“Oh, aye. Next time ye go to bed with torn stockings and awake to them mended, remember to thank me and not the castle’s ghost.”
He laughed, deep and cheery; it was the kind of laugh that infected even the darkest of emotions with a bit of joy.
“Ye have my word. So what mending was all this fer?”
“The Queen sent me a wedding frock that I think the goats got to first.”
Her hand flew to her lips with such force that she was sure she had given the bruise on her cheek a friend. Which of them was the fool now? A bit too much wine, and here she was, insulting the Queen before a stranger who she only knew because of his undying loyalty to the crown. Kenna could practically feel the harsh rub of the rope that would soon be around her neck as her body swung beside her father. Elizabeth would be wed to the Fraser before Kenna’s flesh grew cold.
“‘Twas a kind gesture from her Majesty. The dress was my mother’s wedding gown, fallen into disrepair from our own lack of care. I am sure it was a kind t
hought—having it sent to me. Saved me the trouble of picking out something to wear myself. I—”
“Kenna,” Rob said over her panicked rambling, snatching her hand from the air, where she had been shaking it as if to punctuate her apologies, “ye needn’t apologize.”
“But I insulted the Queen. It wasn’t my intent. It—”
“I know.” His hand squeezed her more tightly, and she felt her body loosen as she finally exhaled.
“Ye’ll not tell her, then?”
“Ach. I’d not be such a good husband if I got my wife killed just when she started to speak to me plainly.” His gaze lowered to her breasts, so poorly covered by the gown, and her cheeks grew hot. “Disrepair or not, ye make for a bonny bride. Though I will concede to admitting that it seems like a poor trick the Queen played, especially considering the gown she chose fer herself.”
“‘Twas,” Kenna replied, remembering the garish gown the Queen had worn with absolute fury. It had confirmed all of Kenna’s suspicions tenfold. Even Elizabeth, who always saw the best in every soul, could no longer deny it.
“Ye said it was yer mother’s? The gown.”
“Aye. She used to let me and Elizabeth, my sister, play pretend with it—saying there was no use to owning a fine gown if it went unworn. We weren’t altogether kind to it as children, so it did not last in good condition fer long. Also…” Kenna’s blush deepened. “I outgrew it at some point.”
“I can hardly find fault with the fit,” Rob said, his voice low and his gaze still on Kenna’s chest.
Kenna was astonished. What was she supposed to say when a man said something like that while eyeing her body so openly, with such disregard for decency? She had caught her reflection earlier in the evening, and she had nearly fainted when she saw how tightly the gown clung to her. She had commented so to Elizabeth when she came to hug and whisper her congratulations. The little witch had lied and said no one would notice. Clearly, she underestimated the eyes of men.
“Aye, well, do not come to expect it. ‘Tis terribly uncomfortable. I’ve been on the verge of collapsing all day; the corset is tied so tight.”
“Is that so?” Rob’s eyes slowly met her own. “Then ‘tis only wise to remove it.”
It had been a trap. Kenna had set it herself and then immediately stumbled back upon it. He knew it as well as she. All she could do was nod, watching his eyes darken dangerously like a predator who had found easy prey as he stood to approach her. The hand that had been grasping hers since earlier gracefully pulled her to her feet, and she turned away from him, not sure if she preferred to be blind to his advance or to meet his eyes, which seemed to read so intrusively into hers.
Each of her senses became so suddenly sharp, picking up every warm exhale as it tickled across her neck and the ever so slight trace of his fingertips as they casually flipped the black sash from her shoulder before sliding across her back to find the laces working so hard to hold the dress against her. When he lightly gripped the end and began to pull, Kenna felt the rest of her beginning to undo, the heat of his breath sinking into her chest and then lower still. One final slow tug and the gown gave way, slowly sinking to the floor.
How desperately she wanted to turn back around. To distance him from undoing her even further. But then she would have to face him and those dark eyes. What expression would she find there? He robbed her of the chance to consider the options for his achingly slow pace was suddenly shattered as he gave her corset laces one swift pull and the heavy fabric and boning tumbled to the floor, abandoned. Kenna gasped, fully filling her lungs for the first time in hours.
Now it was only her shift. Kenna looked down at herself, suddenly conscious of how thin the fabric was. She didn’t have time to regret it, for his hands were on her again, moving in a gradual and gentle knead from her back to her sides and then forward to her stomach.
“Better?” he whispered in her ear.
His hands, the ones she had yet to object to, began to sink, and the veil of seduction fell from her eyes as she guessed his destination. She twisted away from him, stepping back until she was free from him and those hands that tempted her so.
“Aye! Thank ye. Much better. Much better indeed.”
His hands hovered in the air where she had once been. Kenna enjoyed the look of shock on his face until his gaze sank from her face to, well, the rest of her. She clutched her arms about herself awkwardly, doing her best to be nonchalant while also covering as much as she could. He seemed to find this amusing, a smile flitting across his face while the slow rumble of a chuckle filled the room.
“Ye’re quite bonny, Kenna.”
“Kind of ye to say.”
“I imagine ye ken what it is that we are expected to do tonight?”
Kenna blanched. It was one thing to know but another to say. “I do.”
“Then—” He took a step forward.
Kenna immediately stepped back.
He took his jacket off with a sigh and tossed it over the chair beside him before looking back to her with a fresh conviction. It was almost more intimidating than the dark look he had cast upon her earlier.
“Ye ken that I’ll not hurt ye, right?”
Kenna did not know that. How could she? “I ken.”
He took another step forward, and she another step back, eliciting another laugh from Rob, but this one was hollow—certainly more to soothe himself than to be true.
“If ye do not fear me, then what is wrong?”
“Ye just…” Kenna’s mind reeled for an excuse. “Ye just seemed to ken how to undo a woman’s dress with a bit too much ease.”
His laugh was genuine once more. “Laces are hardly complex.”
“Aye, well…” Kenna trailed off, wishing she had considered the options for steering this argument before she had headed down this trail.
“Is it jealousy?” Rob asked, his eyes full of childish delight.
Kenna snorted. “Hardly.”
Rob reached for her. It wasn’t quick, or frightening, but she jumped away just the same, clutching herself even more tightly.
For the second time that night, his hand hung in the air, unmoving. “I see. Ye ken, I had about as much choice in this as I imagine ye did. Our families and the Queen gave us this marriage as an opportunity, and we are bound by our duty to them, and our clans, to see this through or suffer the consequences. Though I’ll not have the Queen’s wrath turn against my clan, I’ll hardly force ye either.”
“Then ye’ve found yourself in a hard position, fer ye’ll not have yer way with both.”
“Ye ken that I’d be well within my rights to have ye, whether ye agree or not.”
“I ken well enough. I ken it better than ye.”
“Do ye now?”
“Aye. Do ye think women do not ken where we stand in the world? I have ken since I could walk that one day I would have a husband and the word ‘no’ would cease to have any meaning. Not marrying until ye find someone ye are ready to say ‘yes’ to is the simple solution, but then we are played like a trump card if we do not act soon enough. How could I have refused this marriage when it would have cost me both my life and the lives of the only family I have left?”
Kenna froze, realizing the person that truly needed to listen to argument the most, to take it to heart, was herself. She was running from him. She had been all day. But she was here for one reason, and one reason alone: keep her family alive.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them away with a fierceness any Highland warrior would envy before continuing, “I ken full well that, whether ‘tis my wish or not, this night will only end one way. I ken full well that no matter how much ye go on about not hurting me and not forcing me, ye will in the end and I’ll not be able to say or do a thing about it.”
It was as if she had slapped him. His face, so frequently brightened with happiness and laughter since they had arrived in this room, had finally fallen. He stepped back to sink into the chair, staring down at his feet as if he had
lost the strength to hold his head high.
“Kenna, please, just give me a chance,” he finally said.
“‘Tis not chances I gave ye but vows. Now, I promise not to run any longer, so just come and get it over and done with.” Kenna felt all of her convictions slip away as she sat on the bed.
Denying him, pretending she had a choice, had been a welcome escape from reality for a few minutes. At least now he would know her unwillingness. Small victories were all she was allowed, it seemed.
Rob didn’t look at her as he stood and approached the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and kicking his boots off during the journey. When his eyes flashed up as he sank onto the bed, Kenna felt her breath hitch, and she looked away quickly before he could see her fear, ashamed that she would show him such weakness now after working so hard to show him her strength.
He leaned in, his breath once again tantalizing on her skin as his lips brushed against her ear before he murmured, “No.”
“What?”
His eyes were fierce with anger, but that smile was back. “I said, no. I’ll not bed ye.”
With a tug and pull, Rob yanked back the covers of the bed and collapsed back. Not in comfort, per se, but as if in inspection.
“But we have to.”
“Aye, we do.”
“So, get on with it.”
“No.”
Kenna flushed with her own anger this time. “The Queen expects it.”
“Damn the Queen.” Rob hissed, and in one swift motion, a knife was pulled from his belt. It slashed across his arm just above the elbow.
Kenna leaped off of the bed, crossing the room fast, her heart racing. “What in God’s name are ye doing?”
“Calm yerself, woman,” Rob said, rolling his eyes as if she was the one touched in the head and he, the one who had cut himself and was now dipping his fingers into the blood that was slowly pooling on his arm, was behaving perfectly within the bounds of reason.
He dabbed a bit of blood on the sheets, in a place just next to where his hips rested.
Highlander's Haunted Past (Highlander's Seductive Lasses Book 1) Page 3
