Captured Heart

by Heather McCollum

  This amazing man had a power all his own, the power to calm her.

  Meg closed her eyes and followed the rushing clots as they tipped and turned through the tiny vessels trying to find purchase. Just like chasing a dodging hare with her bow, Meg sought out and dissolved the dark chunks of clotted blood throughout Angus’s body. After long moments, Meg leaned back onto her heels, exhaustion dulling her. Caden pulled her into his chest to hold her up.

  “What happened?” Angus blinked as Evelyn hugged him. “Woman, you’re weeping all over me,” he chided, but he squeezed her back.

  “A goose hit ye,” Bruce said.

  “I heard that, ye twit.” Angus murmured comforting words to the housekeeper. Meg had no idea that Angus and Evelyn were a couple.

  “What was that pain in me, after ye healed me?” he asked, his eyes on Meg.

  “Clots going through your body.” Her eyes began to close. “I’m so tired.”

  Caden scooped Meg up in his arms. “The wedding will have to wait until later. Meg needs to rest.”

  “I am so sorry, Angus,” Meg said as her head lulled onto Caden’s shoulder like it belonged there, nestled into his neck.

  “All is right.” Angus fussed while his two old friends pulled him up by the arms. “Bloody hell, I’m covered in goose blood.”

  “’Tis your blood,” Kenneth said.

  Meg breathed in the warmth radiating off Caden’s neck. She barely heard Rachel behind her. “I think she did quite well. Seems you will be blessed with a powerful healer right here at Druim. Make certain you thank God for her.”

  “I think we all better wash before the wedding,” Angus called out.

  Caden carried Meg into the darkness of the hall.

  “Heavens, what have I missed? Has someone else been injured?”

  “No, Father. My bride is tired, though, with the shock of Angus’s injury.”

  “Oh, shall we delay the ceremony?”

  “Not for long,” Caden answered and moved on. His lips moved closer to her ear. “I would have ye safely as my wife as soon as ye can stand, lass.”

  Meg shivered, but not from cold. The intensity in Caden’s voice caught her off guard. The blatant show of her bizarre abilities didn’t seem to faze him. Amazing. He carried her up against his solid chest. What would it be like for that strong body to move against her own? Even exhausted, Meg’s pulse flew. She surely wouldn’t need to rest for long.

  …

  Meg stood before the polished glass, her reflection clear and elegant in the blue brocade gown. Stitches of gold thread wove subtle swirls throughout the skirt. The bell-shaped sleeves were shot through with a lighter-colored blue silk. Against her waist, Meg wore her mother’s dragonfly sash that accentuated her curves. Fiona brushed Meg’s long curls until they fell in a soft cascade down to the middle of her back.

  Aunt Rachel placed a dainty wreath of dried summer flowers and small shoots of wheat on her head. “Lovely,” Rachel said. “A perfect autumn bride.”

  “Is that why you came?” Meg asked. “Did Caden send for you?”

  Rachel continued to arrange the wreath just so. “I received word that you two were being wed and I came right away.”

  “Uncle Alec couldn’t come?”

  “Oh…he will be along soon, I’m sure.”

  Meg watched her own reflection in the polished glass. She seemed the perfect bride, but inside her stomach twisted with questions and worries. Did Caden really want to marry her or was he only doing it to save her and to end the feud? Many couples married without love. Without love, would they be happy? There certainly was a spark between them. She was a virgin, but she knew enough about anatomy and birthing to know what happened in the marriage bed. Meg blushed as she recalled Caden’s kiss as he left her exhausted on her bed that morning.

  “Lovely,” Fiona said, “a blushing bride.”

  Rachel took a sip from a goblet of wine, waited, and handed it to Meg. Apparently, everyone was still on alert after the mushroom incident. “Drink. It will relax you.”

  Meg sipped at the chilled drink, letting its languor spread down into her knotted stomach. Evelyn poked her head around the door. “They’re ready below.”

  “Thank you, Evelyn. Is Angus fit?”

  The woman actually blushed. “Thank ye, milady, for helping him.” Meg waited for the habitual sign of the cross, but Evelyn’s eyes were sincere and lacked fear. Could people here actually accept what she could do, when even Meg herself barely did?

  “Time to wed,” Rachel said.

  Meg’s stomach flipped. With one last glance at the regal woman in the polished glass, she turned toward a new life waiting for her below.

  She rounded the corner to a hall full of people, Macbain people with others standing near the very tall Colin Macleod. She almost didn’t recognize him without his bushy beard. Something about the man made her eyes linger. He was handsome and she could understand why her mother would want to be friends with him.

  Meg caught sight of Caden near the hearth. He was tallest of them all and easy to pick out. The man stood out among his peers, obviously a leader, strong and ruggedly handsome. He’d shaved his short beard, revealing his strong chin and jaw. Slightly damp waves of brown hair hung to his broad shoulders. He wore a fresh kilt, perhaps new.

  Her heart leapt as she remembered the kiss that had consumed them in that very spot before the fire. And now she would pledge to honor and obey him forever. Meg took in a long breath to slow her wild heart.

  “Ann and Jonet spruced up the hall after the festival for the ceremony,” Fiona whispered.

  Meg pulled her gaze from Caden and spotted the dried flower garland from the harvest festival with a few additions of heather for good luck. The effect decorated the hall like another festival. Beautiful.

  “They are quite fond of ye,” Fiona said.

  The two ladies stood in the crowd with Ewan and waved. Meg mouthed the words “thank you” to them and indicated the swags. Her two friends beamed.

  She walked behind Rachel and almost ran into her aunt when she stopped suddenly before Colin Macleod. Her aunt swiveled, staring between her and Colin.

  “Oh my, Isabelle,” Rachel said, and then the shock on her face melted into a grin.

  “What is it?” Meg asked, but her eyes strayed again to Caden, who stood beside the priest. She straightened up to best show off the beautiful gown, forced what she hoped was a casual expression on her lips, and breathed slowly.

  “Don’t you think Meg is beautiful, Colin?” Rachel asked.

  “Aye.”

  Meg glanced at him and bowed her head at the compliment.

  The priest gestured for her to keep moving toward them at the front of the hall.

  “I would be most happy to speak with you later, sir, about my mother.” Meg gave a brief bow and continued on toward Caden and her future. One foot before the other, she almost floated as she focused on the man before her. Capable, full of authority and honor, Caden Macbain encompassed the strength of the mountains that rose behind his ancestral home. Serious eyes locked with hers, softened by his grin.

  That’s it, one foot in front of the other. The feeling in Meg’s fingers tingled away. Breathe in, breathe out. Forward. She held onto his gaze, using it like a rope to reel her in.

  The room hushed as she stopped next to him before the priest.

  “Lass…” Caden leaned down to whisper near her ear. “Ye are the bonniest I’ve ever seen.”

  Meg forgot to breathe and the numbness moved up her fingers into her hands. Jonet ran forward and pressed a bouquet of dried heather and wheat wrapped with ribbon into her stiff fingers. Meg nearly dropped them.

  “And who gives this woman to this man?” the priest asked and frowned at Rachel.

  Rachel stood tall next to Meg. “As a blood relation, I do.”

  “Very well.” The priest read through the promises, asking Meg and Caden in turn for their vows.

  Meg’s included obedience. Nothing was
mentioned of love.

  She moved through the words, the entire ceremony, on Caden’s arm. If he’d removed it she would have fallen over. She concentrated on breathing and forcing her legs to hold her weight.

  Caden’s voice echoed with strength. “I vow to protect and keep Meg until death.”

  He said the words as if he truly believed every syllable, every letter of every word. Keep until death. With each word, some of Caden’s might trickled into Meg, filling her with vigor until she stood erect next to him, linked but no longer leaning. His calm and powerful presence built her up rather than make her seem small. He did not tower over but stood tall beside her.

  “By the powers given to me by the Holy Roman Catholic Church, I pronounce ye man and wife,” the priest intoned. He repeated the proclamation also in English. “Ye may kiss her,” he said to Caden.

  The remaining moisture in Meg’s mouth dried like the heather in her bouquet. She swallowed hard and pulled in her bottom lip to wet it.

  The door swung open and Ewan’s head popped in. “Caden?”

  Meg hadn’t even noticed that Ewan had disappeared.

  As Caden pulled Meg around to face him, he said over his shoulder to Hamish, “Find Father Daughtry a drink or two of ale in the back.” Hamish nearly carried the flustered priest away as the warrior chatted about the early snow.

  Aunt Rachel moved then, quickly toward the door. Meg tried to turn to where an unfamiliar young man brushed snow off his furs near the door, but Caden gently tugged her chin so that their eyes met.

  “This is more important.” His lips descended on her own, stealing her breath and her whirling mind. His large hand cradled the back of her head as he slanted across her mouth with all the promise and heat of a lusty man at leisure. When he pulled back passion sparked his eyes.

  A dizzy whirl descended on Meg as he turned to stand beside her, gazing out at the applauding crowd. Rachel, Ewan, and the stranger were gone. Caden raised his hand to the happy Macbains.

  “This marks a new era!” Caden’s voice rose about the shouts of celebration. “An era of peace!”

  More cheers. A smile grew on her face. Marriages had been sealed based on much less. Peace for these people she’d grown to care about, protection for her against her father. Yes, this was good.

  Caden squeezed her hand as Fiona, Jonet, and Ann hustled forward. Was she going somewhere? As if he sensed her confusion, Caden ran his hand along her cheek. “’Tis late. We will start the celebration tomorrow…after.”

  “After what?” she whispered, but from Caden’s intense gray eyes she was pretty sure she knew.

  “We will finish what we began before this fire the other night, bride.”

  …

  “What is Rachel’s lad doing here?” Kenneth asked as he followed Caden out of the hall. Evelyn had quickly spread the word that the celebration would start after the noon meal the next day, and people had vacated amid raucous good wishes.

  “I didn’t invite him,” Caden answered. He shifted at once into a familiar battle stance and looked to Hugh. “Double the watch tonight. More Munros may follow.”

  He definitely didn’t need a horde of furious Munros scaling his walls on his wedding night. He glanced over his shoulder at the three council members, who practically ran to keep up with him. “For that matter, I didn’t invite Rachel, either.”

  No, he hadn’t invited anyone but the priest. And he only did that because he had to make this official. An official, legal marriage to make Meg a true Macbain. And the wedding night would completely bind them as husband and wife.

  Caden exhaled long and stomped down the guilt that kept fighting its way up his gullet. Meg knew that their marriage would end the feud. She had wed to save herself, also her relatives, and his clan. The only thing she didn’t know was that for a short while, she’d been a captive. A very well-treated captive.

  There was also the fact that from the first kiss, Caden’s mind had worked across many scenarios on ways to keep Meg at Druim. Her reactions indicated that she didn’t mind his touch; in fact, she melted into him. Would she still respond the same way if she found out that his mission to England had been all about kidnapping her? His words to Ewan the last time he’d laid next to her warm body in the tent haunted him.

  “She’s simply a pawn to force the peace. Don’t get attached. She will hate us.”

  Bloody hell!

  Caden walked through the archway into the kitchen. Rachel stood with Colin in front of her one remaining offspring, Searc, while he drank from a mug.

  “Did you come alone?” Caden asked the lad. Rachel frowned and opened her mouth but Caden held up a hand. Amazingly, the woman complied. The youth seemed to be about fifteen, high time to be training with the young Munro warriors.

  Already a head above his mother, he stood straighter. “Aye, my father doesn’t know where we are.”

  “I’m sure he is starting to suspect,” Angus said from behind. “Especially if any of his loyal Munro spies have told him of the wedding.”

  “I intercepted the latest information,” Searc said.

  “Why?” Caden asked.

  “Because my mother intercepted the first.”

  Silence stuffed the tight room. Rachel’s eyes were wide, disbelieving. Was the youth picking his mother over his father?

  “A united Scotland is a strong Scotland,” Searc said, his lips tight. “My mother has a plan.”

  “Searc,” Rachel warned.

  “I don’t know all of it, but she’s clever,” he added.

  Angus sneered. “More clever than that bull of a husband.”

  “Shut your mouth, Angus,” Rachel said softly.

  “And,” Searc continued, “I know she wants peace.” His gaze connected with Caden’s. “I would give it to her.”

  An understanding seemed to radiate across the room. This youth, though already physically warrior-like, had an intelligence that let him see past the blood lust that had grown between their clans. Perhaps there was hope for the next generation of Scotland.

  Caden nodded to the future Munro leader. Then he turned to Rachel. “You have a plan. I would hear it.”

  From her stance he already knew she wasn’t going to tell him. Rachel crossed her arms over her chest and leveled a hard stare. “The best part of it is waiting upstairs for her husband,” she said, though the jest did not reach her eyes.

  Ewan cleared his throat on a chuckle.

  She turned to Colin Macleod. “We need to talk.”

  And with that, Rachel Munro, steely grand queen with a secret plan for peace, dismissed him. Perhaps he shouldn’t give her a bed tonight. Although…if Meg was part of her plan, Caden should thank her for giving him the warmest bed in Scotland.

  …

  Caden lifted the latch to his room and allowed the door to slide inward. The glow from the fire filled the room with a comfortable wafting of warm air. His breath caught.

  Meg sat in the middle of the soft furs. She’d pulled the crown from her hair so that the waves of auburn cascaded down like a waterfall of silk. Her sleeves were draped over the edge of the bed, leaving her slender limbs bare. She only wore her white shift with her stiff bodice still tied about her. The tight cinching lifted the swell of her breasts so high that a little nudge would spill her soft flesh over the thin satin edge. She was a goddess, a temptress with innocent wide eyes. If the lass could see beneath his kilt, she’d be running for the roof.

  He rubbed the back of his head.

  “I couldn’t untie the lacings,” Meg said and pointed over one shoulder to her back.

  He let out a ragged breath. “Aye, lass.” He twirled a finger in a circle.

  She came up on her knees. Caden brushed the fragrant hair over one bare shoulder. He tried not to touch her skin—if it were as soft as he imagined, his fingers would never stop. He dove deftly into the hiding places between the ties, tugging at the knots until the bodice opened down her back. Meg sighed in relief.

  “Tight,�
� he said, his eyes lingering on the exposed nape of her neck and upper back where the shift dipped.

  She turned on her knees so that she knelt before him. Her breasts no longer swelled up high, yet their heaviness was evident behind the thin material. Her nipples stood out among the folds.

  “So…” she began and tilted her head to the side. “What do we do now?”

  “Do?”

  “To consummate the marriage.” Even in the glow of firelight, Caden could tell that her blush was intensifying. “I know you…know,” she indicated the bed, “what to do.”

  Bloody hell, yes! In the few seconds that she’d started talking, he’d imagined all sorts of things they could do…that they would be doing.

  He smiled then, and tried to keep the devil out of it. “Aye, lass, I know what to do.”

  “Perhaps you should explain everything first.”

  Caden continued the kiss he’d begun downstairs earlier. He unbuttoned his shirt and pursued Meg’s lips in a gentle kiss full of promise. He pulled back just enough to see Meg’s flushed face. Her lips parted, wet and gorgeous.

  “Should I…?” she started.

  “I’ll show ye, lass. Showing’s more fun than explaining.” He leaned on his hands over her as she bent backward until her legs straightened out in the furs.

  “Soft,” she whispered and leaned back flat on the bed.

  “Aye, ye are soft, everywhere,” he added as he combed his fingers through her hair, fanning it out around her face.

  “No. The furs. They tickle.”

  Caden glanced behind him at her shapely legs and petite toes as she rubbed them in the pelts. The tension in his chest moved down into his groin. His jaw ached. He had to go slow. Och! He wanted to taste every inch of those lovely long legs.

  Meg laid a hand on his chest and frowned. “Your heart races, your muscles are tense—”

  “Ye’re going to have to turn off those senses of yers to enjoy this. I’m not yer injured.” He braced himself up on his arms and leaned forward, careful to give her room to breathe. “I’m yer husband,” he said, exploring the depths of her glorious hazel eyes. Little golden sparks radiated out like rays of sun from her pupils.