The Highlander's Runaway Bride

by TERRI BRISBIN

  ‘I cannot decide, but something is wrong.’

  ‘With the lady?’

  ‘Aye. And something is wrong between them.’

  ‘They only met weeks ago and were married within days. They are not accustomed to each other yet, Arabella.’

  She thought on that part of it, and he knew it made sense, even if she did not wish to accept it. But he also knew that something else bothered her. ‘Tell me what you are thinking.’

  ‘He does not touch her.’

  Brodie did not answer, but that was only because he was considering her words. He did not like to speak rashly, so he kept his own counsel until it suited him to say something.

  ‘He held her as he helped her from her horse. He held her as they climbed the steps.’

  ‘Brodie,’ she whined. ‘He did not touch her hand while they sat there. He did not kiss her. He did not try to kiss her.’

  He could think of nothing to say, but he understood what she meant.

  ‘He is always touching some woman or another. He has slept with almost every woman available to him here and any place he travels. His bed is never empty.’

  ‘I think it unseemly that my wife knows the habits of my cousin so well,’ he said.

  ‘Oh, Brodie. His habits as you say are known to all. Two of the laundry maids had a competition to see which of them he would bed first!’ She leaned back and met his gaze. ‘And he took them both to his bed. The man’s appetite for that sort of thing is insatiable and known to all.’

  He slid his hand around and rubbed her back, a place he knew bothered her during this pregnancy. She moaned as he pressed against a tight muscle low in her spine until it eased. Arabella should not be worrying about anything right now, not as the day of giving birth approached. Margaret and the midwife had both urged her to take on fewer tasks and rest more, but his wife, his Arabella, could never resist worrying over her kith and especially her new kin.

  ‘Give them some time to settle in together, Bella. Welcome Lady Eva and make certain the others do. And then give them time to learn each other as man and wife.’

  ‘But...’ He put his hand over her lips.

  ‘Time, Bella. All they need is some time to adjust to their new marriage.’ Kissing her quickly, he watched as her eyes darkened. ‘Mayhap he is just being considerate of her? As I am of you?’

  ‘You are?’ She sat up straighter on his lap and turned to him. ‘This is why you have not...?’ She was angry now, for she pushed out of his lap and stood by him. ‘I thought you found me too...big.’

  Women. How could they so misinterpret a man’s actions?

  ‘God in Heaven, Arabella!’ he said, pulling her back to him. ‘I thought you were too tired. Or feeling ill. Or that I would harm the bairn. I did not want to bother you if you did not...’

  ‘Brodie!’ Her voice echoed through the hall and caught the attention of anyone yet remaining there. Those few now scattered. ‘I do not wish you to be considerate,’ she whispered now, not allowing anyone but him to hear her words. Her breath on his ear and neck made him harden in seconds. ‘You need not be considerate, husband.’

  ‘I love the way your body has changed, Bella,’ he whispered back. ‘The fullness of your breasts. The way your nipples have darkened and harden when in my mouth. Feeling the bairn within you as I lick down to your...’

  Her breaths were shallow and fast now, and he knew she was wet. As wet as he was hard.

  Brodie stroked down her leg and slid his hand under her gown, having a care that no one could see. He stroked up her leg and slipped his hand between her legs. When their gazes met, he held hers and watched her expression as he moved closer, inch by inch, to the place he wanted to touch.

  And lick. And taste. And fill.

  Then he stopped and waited until she gave him a sign of willingness. When she thrust her hips towards his hand, pushing his fingers where he wanted them, he nearly begged her for more.

  ‘So I do not have to be considerate?’ Brodie sat up and pulled her to him with his other hand. He kissed her over and over, even while moving his fingers within the folds of flesh between her legs.

  ‘Margaret and the midwife...said all is well...and that we...we...we can still...’ She did not have to say the rest. He understood now. He stroked her and circled the spot there that would drive her mad, even as watching her face as her arousal grew was driving him mad.

  ‘So, wife, I can have you when I want?’ He practically growled the words, so great was his need for her right now.

  ‘Only if I can have you,’ she whispered.

  Looking up, Brodie noticed that every person and every servant had left the hall, giving them a measure of privacy. But he wanted more than no watching eyes, for he planned to be very inconsiderate this night and pleasure his wife relentlessly to make up for his inattention lately.

  She hissed when he removed his hand and his own flesh throbbed in reaction. Quickly, he pushed the chair back and lifted her in his arms. Aye, she could walk, but this would be faster and easier.

  He climbed the stairs two at a time and reached the top storey where their chamber was. Mayhap if he kept her occupied, she would forget to worry over Rob and his new wife? And mayhap there would be nothing to worry over after all?

  At the sight of them, the two remaining servants took their leave without a word. Brodie kicked the door closed and carried her to their bed.

  Then, for a long night, neither the laird nor the lady worried about much at all.

  Chapter Eleven

  Rob eased from the bed as dawn crept over the horizon, sending its pale light into their chamber. Glancing over at the other side of the bed, he realised that Eva had not moved since she fell asleep last night.

  And she’d fallen asleep when her head lay on the pillow there. Before undressing. Before the hot bath the lady sent up to their chamber. Before he could thank her for what she’d said and done in front of his sister and Brodie and Arabella.

  He rolled carefully away from her, realising that his sleep had been deep, too. The comfort of the bed, the warmth of the chamber and the good food filling his belly all conspired to send him to sleep. But now, he had things to do and tasks to see to, as he took up his usual life in Glenlui.

  He climbed from the bed and dressed quickly, wanting to allow the lady to sleep as long as necessary this morn. He’d given those instructions to Nessa so he knew no one would bother Eva before she woke on her own. Brodie would be waiting on his report about the MacKay, so he left the chamber and went down to the hall.

  He made his way to the room off the great hall that Brodie used for the records and other documents for clan business and was surprised to find the room empty. When his stomach grumbled, Rob decided to seek out some food and wait for Brodie in the hall instead.

  * * *

  It was some time before the laird showed his face and when he did, he looked exhausted. Happy but exhausted.

  ‘My wife would say it is not a good sign that you are here, awake and eating, before me this morn, Rob.’

  Rob shrugged. What could he say?

  ‘Did you expect otherwise? ’Tis not a love match.’

  Brodie waited until the serving girl put a bowl of porridge before him, filled his cup with ale and left before speaking.

  ‘You are still angry over this?’ he asked.

  ‘Bloody hell, Brodie! Aye, I am still angry at being forced to this.’ Rob drank some of his ale and lowered his cup. ‘’Tis a damned debacle, that’s what it is.’

  ‘She seems nice enough. From what I remember of her father, ’tis saying much.’

  Rob could only glare at him across the table. More servants and people were entering the hall and he did not wish tales of his words to be spread through the clan.

  ‘Can we do this somewhere more
private?’

  Brodie stood and nodded. ‘Not now. I told Arabella the same thing I will tell you, Rob. You and the lady need some time to be accustomed to this marriage.’

  ‘Time, is it?’

  Leaning closer, Brodie spoke in a very quiet voice, one Rob had learned long ago to be wary of.

  ‘Did you sign the papers?’ At his nod, Brodie continued, ‘And say the vows before a priest?’ Another nod. ‘And consummate the vows?’

  ‘There were bloodied sheets in the morning, aye.’ Rob glanced away then.

  ‘Then you are married, and that is not easily undone. Accustom yourself to this and move on. We will speak about the MacKay on my return.’

  Then he was gone, heading towards the stables. Brodie kept to a routine each day and it began with a ride through the village and out to the fields and the cattle. More often than not, Rob accompanied him, but not this morn.

  When he realised he’d not unpacked the wagon, he asked their steward where it had been stored and went to find it. With help he sorted out the crates and trunks and arranging for their delivery where they needed to be. He asked that his trunk and the lady’s several be placed in the alcove near their chambers until she rose. The maid’s he had delivered to the small room where she would stay down the corridor from theirs.

  Fergus took the chest with the gold and the contracts to his storage room where all the valuables were locked in strongboxes. Rob could retrieve them when Brodie returned.

  Once that was settled, he noticed that the men were gathering to train in the yard. It had been weeks since he’d battled with anyone but Lady Eva, and he itched for a good fight of the physical kind. He called out to Magnus, who had just arrived from the village, and challenged him to a bout with the quarterstaff. He lost the first two fights with Magnus, beating him only when they changed to swords.

  * * *

  The hours passed as one man challenged grew to two, and then others joined in their mock battles. Rob and Magnus worked with the others to show them how to use their weapons more effectively. The session ended when Brodie entered the yard and Rob wore himself out fighting the chieftain, who was a wicked fighter with or without weapons. He could feel the tension in his muscles and body being released and a lightness in his mood that came from this kind of challenge.

  But would it help the other challenge who yet slept in his bed?

  * * *

  Eva waited while Nessa knocked on the solar door and opened it. Entering the chamber, she saw Lady Arabella sitting in a large chair in the corner and walked to her. When the lady tried to rise, Eva rushed there to stop her.

  ‘I pray you, do not rise.’ The laird’s wife smiled and rested back. But there were circles under the woman’s eyes.

  ‘Did you not sleep well, my lady?’ she asked. The last months were the most uncomfortable, she knew, when finding a position that allowed sleep was impossible.

  ‘I, ah...’ Lady Arabella stammered. A red blush rose into the lady’s cheeks, making her even more attractive. A telling blush that spoke of lost sleep for another reason.

  ‘Since the laird is in the village, mayhap you should rest now?’ she asked, unable to stop herself from teasing the woman who was so obviously in love with her husband. It almost hurt to watch it there in her eyes.

  ‘I told Brodie that I was going to like you, Lady Eva,’ the lady began. ‘Truth be told, we have too much to do for me to go back to bed.’

  ‘Lady, there is no need to...’ Eva stopped when the lady held up her hand.

  ‘There is every need to welcome you properly to our family. Not only are you Rob’s wife, but the treaty signed by your father and Brodie is advantageous and beneficial to all our clans. Such a thing is to be celebrated.’ The lady looked very happy when Eva nodded her assent.

  ‘Good. Now, we must find you a gown suitable for this evening’s feast. My aunt Gillie has a good eye for such things, but she is visiting her relations now. Ailean? What say you? The lady and I are, were, of a similar size. Which of my gowns could be altered for her?’

  Once again, the lady proved the effective commander of troops, and Eva found herself trying on all sorts and colours of gowns under the critical eye of Arabella Cameron. Although she claimed her aunt was a better judge of such things, one did not gain the reputation she had for beauty and grace and womanly appearance without having some herself. Only the arrival of Rob’s sister, Margaret, slowed down the relentless Lady Arabella on her quest to find the perfect gown for the new wife of Rob Mackintosh.

  ‘Margaret!’ Lady Arabella called out when the servant opened the solar’s door. ‘Come, we could use your help. Have you met Rob’s wife yet?’

  ‘How do ye fare this morning, Eva?’ Margaret came over and sat next to her. Arabella looked a bit annoyed not to be the centre of Margaret’s concern until Rob’s sister turned to her. ‘And you, Arabella? Has the bairn dropped lower yet?’

  Eva could barely stand the pain of hearing questions about the bairn. It was too soon. Her own pain too deep and fresh. She took in a halting breath, trying to hide her distress. Margaret took her hand then.

  ‘Ye have been ill? Tell me what happened?’

  ‘Ill? I thought you had injured your leg?’ the lady asked.

  Eva knew she needed a simple story that would satisfy these two women. So, she stayed with the truth as much as she could. She must remember to tell Rob.

  ‘Nothing exciting. Truly, the story just demonstrates my lack of grace, Arabella.’ She took a breath and wove together all the bits of it. ‘Rob was delayed in his arrival and my father gave permission to visit my cousin. On my way back, I slipped on the muddy ground and twisted my knee and ankle.’

  ‘You did not break anything?’ Margaret asked, glancing down at Eva’s leg and foot. Eva held it up and rotated her foot to show it had healed.

  ‘Nay. Rob had come to meet me and he bound it well. He said he learned from you,’ she added.

  Margaret made the same, soft huff sound that Rob did when he was thinking on something, further identifying them as siblings. ‘I wish he’d had some of the ointment I use to help reduce the swelling. It would have had you out of pain and stronger faster than just binding,’ Margaret added.

  The devil stood on Eva’s shoulder then, urging her to tell Margaret what Rob had used. Something about being with women who cared and who wanted to help, made her want to be part of this camaraderie. She’d never felt at home what these women made her feel within minutes of meeting them. They cared deeply and were cared about just as deeply. Looking at the concern in their gazes, she smiled.

  ‘Rob did use a liniment on my ankle and foot, Margaret. He said you’d made it. It smelled of an herb and mayhap mint?’

  Margaret started to say something and then stopped, clearly thinking on which liniment Rob could have had with him. Then her mouth dropped open and she shook her head.

  ‘Pray you, tell me he did not?’

  All Eva could do was laugh as Margaret realised the truth. Margaret explained it to the lady, who laughed, as well.

  ‘Our Rob sorely needs his wooing skills improved,’ the lady said when she finally could speak. Wiping tears from her eyes, she said, ‘His ease with women has clearly made him forget how to do it correctly.’

  Ease with women?

  Eva was no fool, she’d seen the glances thrown his way both in the village and here in the keep. And, she’d seen his body and melted under just his kiss and knew he would draw willing, available women like bees to flowers.

  And, if she told herself the truth, the way he had a care for people was enticing, too.

  ‘Well, then,’ she said. ‘’Tis a good thing he did not need to woo a wife, then.’

  Eva knew she’d misspoken when her words were greeted with silence. Ah, these two knew Rob had not wanted the marriage. Considering h
is penchant for expletives and his admission that he’d shared his feelings about not wanting to marry, ’twould make sense of course. She changed their topic, directing them off the subject of her marriage.

  ‘The healer at Varrich thought I might have fallen because of the fever,’ she explained. ‘That the dizziness made me lose my balance.’ Though the healer had not seen to her, Eva believed the fever had caused her fall.

  ‘Puir lass,’ Margaret whispered, touching her hand. ‘To be ill and then injured and have to journey here. Why did Rob not wait?’

  So many reasons, Eva thought.

  ‘Once the fever broke and I felt better, we wed. Rob saw to my leg on the journey, and it is healed now.’

  She looked up then and found Lady Arabella blinking quickly and moving her mouth like a fish did. Margaret did not speak, but she did mumble words under her breath that Eva decided she did not wish to hear.

  Lucky for her, the sound of cheering outside drew their attention. She stood and walked to the large shuttered window and opened it to see the yard. She gasped when she saw the men below. Margaret helped the lady to her feet and they joined her to see.

  There was some sort of challenge or fight going on below. Eva picked Rob out immediately—his height and colouring made it easy. He was on the attack, swinging his sword at his opponent, forcing him back and back until the fence stopped their movement.

  His opponent was darker, of the same height, and it took little time to recognise the laird. Arabella gasped as he tripped and went down on one knee, confirming his identity.

  The third man, pale haired but taller and wider than any she’d seen before, stood nearby, watching, it would seem. Then, he attacked Rob when he was not looking. Now it was her turn to gasp as the two, strong warriors fought Rob at the same time. Eva did not know she’d clenched her fists until Margaret took hold of one and spread her fingers.

  ‘’Tis but a practice, Eva. Brodie and Magnus will not harm him.’

  She turned and glanced at Margaret. The way her voice softened on the other warrior’s name was telling. Then, a roar went up from those watching as Rob knocked Magnus to the ground and flung the man’s sword away. Now, it was just him and his laird.