by Mary Wine
Elspeth began to pace. She’d always known the day would come when her brother returned from some clan with an offer of marriage for her. She snorted. At least she had assumed it would be marriage. She had spent her time dreading that she might wed an old man when she should have been fretting over being offered up like a tart just because the man was laird of one of the most powerful clans in Scotland.
But Hayden Monroe was powerful, so much so she felt her throat tightening as if there were a noose around it. There would be plenty of her own kin who would eagerly dress her up in the finest dress she owned and present her to him. Never mind that her honor would be forfeit. Even if her brother spoke the truth about the changes in the church, it did not change the times they were living in. She’d be judged by the priest sitting up at the church in his dark robes.
“I’ve not remained pure to whore it away, Dunmore. ’Twas something I was saving for the man who would respect me for it.”
Dunmore lowered his voice. “Monroe does value yer purity. The man has his pick of all the daughters in Scotland, and he is riding here to meet ye.”
“Because ye promised him that I would spread my thighs for him.”
Dunmore frowned at her but Elspeth glared back at him.
“What I promised him was that ye are no meek lass, and ye are not, Elspeth. Ye have steel in yer spine and courage the same as any Leask man. But if ye want the greatest reward, ye shall have to be willing to earn it.”
“I never thought to marry above where I was born.” She didn’t care for how meek her words sounded. The church would approve but her pride didn’t.
“Fine, Elspeth, if ye have outgrown yer boldness, so be it. Simply tell the man to go back to his land. That ye will not have him. I’ll find ye someone else to wed.”
“That would be rude since ye have invited him here.”
She closed her lips because her brother shrugged in response to her argument. Men. They were so foreign to women. She often wondered just what God had been thinking to create it so that they needed each other to produce children.
“Remember, Elspeth, William Wallace didna do what those that came before him did. He employed new ideas and strategies and defeated the English because of his modern thinking.”
“We are not talking about battle here, Brother. Besides, I wouldn’t be the first woman to ripen with a bastard and be denied a wedding. What of my child? It is not an easy thing to be called bastard.”
“Monroe will wed the mother of his child. The man is still wearing a beard in mourning for his family.”
That shocked her. Since the man had invited his neighbors over to negotiate for a bride, she would have expected him to shave and move on.
What sort of a man longed for a woman and daughter that fate had stolen from him? A son she might understand, but now she felt a tender stirring inside her chest. Maybe the man didn’t want to get married any more than she did, but was being pressured by his kin. That was something she understood.
Dunmore shrugged. “Besides, I did nae promise him ye’d handfast.”
“Ye did nae? In truth, Dunmore?” That tender emotion stirred again, this time stronger. Could it be that the man wanted to meet her and discover if there was anything between them? Now that would be too much to hope for. It would mean he was not ruled by lust for coin and land.
Dunmore cuffed her gently beneath the chin. “I told him that ye are wild and proud of yer purity.”
Elspeth snorted at him. “Now yer back to praising me for holding tightly onto my virginity. What happened to yer suggestion of handfasting?”
“Be who ye are and meet the man. If he does nae please ye, I’ll negotiate a contract with the Setons. There’s a second son in that clan I think would have ye with what ye come with.” He held up his hand to still her next comment. “But Monroe is still coming here to meet ye, so ye can hide above stairs if ye’re too worried about not being able to remain a maiden just because ye’ve been in the same room with him.”
Elspeth frowned at him, but her brother clearly thought his plan a sound one. She battled against the urge to feel defeated but it was becoming harder, especially when she noticed her brother’s men peeking around the edge of the wall to see how she was taking the news.
Oh, fie upon it.
With her own mother gone, there was no woman with enough position to force her brother to see reason.
“I am going riding to think the matter through,” she announced in a firm tone. “And I am taking yer horse, not some tired-out mare.”
That drew a frown from her brother. He adored his stallion, but so did she. At least there would be some enjoyment from the day’s events. Her brother didn’t care to share the prized animal but she was going to take what enjoyment she might.
“You will nae.” Dunmore crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s time for ye to stop straddling a horse. No man wants that in a wife. I should have forbid ye that years ago.”
Elspeth narrowed her eyes. “I’m asking for a bit of time to think it through. ’Tis nae much of a concession to let me ride out on a horse that has some life in him. Seeing as how ye told Monroe how untamed I am. Ye can’t very well have the man showing up and seeing me walking along on a mare with my legs hanging down sidesaddle. Why, such is the very definition of submissive. Nothing wild at all about that.”
Her brother snorted. “I hate the way ye turn my own words against me. All right. Off with ye.”
Her brother grumbled but she didn’t remain to listen to him. The urge to escape was pounding through her, urging her toward the open land beyond the walls of their tower.
She loved Dunmore’s stallion. Elspeth slowed down when she entered the section of the stable where the animal was housed. She never approached it too quickly because a wise person didn’t startle such a powerful beast.
The power in him fascinated her. There were plenty of people telling her to stay well away from the stallion, but she didn’t listen to them. It felt as if something drew her to him. She reached out and touched his velvety coat with her fingertips to judge his temper, and it felt as if fire raced down her arm and into her body. The animal tossed its head, pulling on the leather that held it in the stall.
“Aye, my beauty, that is exactly what I was thinking of—getting out of here.”
Pulling the saddle from where it rested over a rail, she secured it on top of the horse. Reaching for the knot that held the bridle, she untied it and wrapped the reins around her fist.
“Do ye nae think that is wee bit too much horse for ye, lass?”
The stallion’s front hooves came off the ground and he let out a shrill sound. Whoever had snuck up on her reached for the bridle but Elspeth pulled down on the reins, controlling the horse before her unwelcome company got close enough to do it. Stroking the stallion’s muzzle in a soothing motion, she peered over the thick neck of the animal at her company.
“Nae. ’Tis not the first time I have ridden him.” And she didn’t care if she was being prideful in telling him that.
“Is that a fact?”
He sounded amused by her claim. There was only a small bit of daylight left and most of it didn’t make its way into the stable with its small windows. Whoever he was, he stood tall enough to have to watch the ceiling or risk knocking his head on one of the thick beams that supported the roof.
“It is nothing ye have to take my word for. Stand there and ye can watch me mount him.”
She was not going to waste the last of the day debating with a stranger when she had her brother’s permission to ride his stallion. Tugging on the reins, she led the horse through the doorway and out into the yard. With a carefully placed foot, she used the power in her legs to gain the saddle. The stallion danced with excitement, snorting in the evening air. But she felt the eyes of the stranger on her. She shouldn’t care what he thought, not when there were far more important matters for her mind to dwell on today.
Still, she couldn’t resist the urge to look behind her. He st
ood just outside the stable door and his head was even with it. The evening sun touched him and set his hair aglow. It was dark but with copper hiding beneath that dark sable mane. He had it pulled back from his face but the back of it rested on his broad shoulders. Even his beard had a touch of copper in its dark hue, and the sun lit it. But it was the way he watched her that drew her attention. Something flickered in his eyes that filled her with confidence. There was no hint of disapproval for the way she sat atop the horse with her thighs gripping the saddle. In fact, it looked as though he approved of her approach to riding the stallion. Many would not. Half her own clan warned her that riding astride would make her sterile. The other half was quick to tell her that no man would have her to wife if she insisted on acting so dominating. For the moment she didn’t care. Quite possibly, that would be the best solution because then she would never have to marry and answer to another man. Dunmore was bad enough. The only thing that drove her toward considering Laird Hayden Monroe was the fact that her brother would marry soon and his bride would consider herself the mistress of the tower. An unwed sister wouldn’t be wanted, which meant she had important things to think on.
“As you see, I know what I am about.”
“It does appear that way, but it does take a wee bit more to impress me than just sitting there.” His gaze moved over her, touching on the way her knees pressed into the sides of the horse, and a flicker of approval lit his eyes. “A lad of ten could do as much as you’ve shown me.”
“Oh, I plan to do much more, sir.”
And she hoped that he enjoyed the sight of her riding away from him, the arrogant man. There was something about the way he watched her that made her quiver. A hint of command in his gaze that told her he was accustomed to getting what he wanted from everyone he met. Especially women. She was the laird’s daughter, even if her father had been a poor laird. Most of her kin never looked at her as this man was doing. As if she were a woman that they found pleasing.
She shook the odd feelings aside, blaming Dunmore for opening her thoughts up to lying with a man. Now she couldn’t seem to control the urge to contemplate surrendering to passion.
Setting her heels into the belly of the horse, she leaned low over his neck and smiled when she felt the powerful beast begin surging beneath her. Excitement filled her and the wind began chilling her ears and nose as the animal gained speed. Her heart accelerated and soon all she heard was the pounding of the hooves and the thumping of her heart. Everything else fell away behind her. The evening chill failed to bother her. Her heart was beating fast enough to keep her skin warm and her breath coming in small pants. The noose she’d felt tightening around her throat finally loosened, giving her release from the sensation that she was being choked by all the expectations surrounding her.
A flash of lightning ended the ride as the stallion reared up into the darkening night, his front legs pawing at the air in front of him. Elspeth laughed and tightened her thighs around him. When his hooves hit the dirt she took the impact easily, the smile on her lips never wavering.
“All right, I’m impressed with ye, lass. I’ve seen full grown men tossed by a startled stallion.”
Her lips pressed into a hard line and she jerked around to stare at her company.
“I was nae trying to impress you. I don’t even know who ye are.” She felt the return of the pressure about her neck. “’Tis the truth that I wish ye were not here. I was riding out to think some matters through. Important ones.”
He sat very confidently atop a horse that was finer than the one she rode. It was obvious in the subtle darkness of the coat and the more noble lines of the animal’s face. The saddle was richer too, with decorative tooling applied along all the edges. Its quality bespoke a man with money and position. It would seem that her brother’s plan had hooked the interest of Laird Monroe quite well, for the man had ridden in right on his heels. Elspeth struggled to draw her next breath, her throat tightening to the point that it was painful.
“You didna waste any time coming after my brother, Laird Monroe.”
He grinned, a smug little parting of his lips almost hidden by his beard. Another flash of lightning illuminated him and made both their mounts dance. The scent of rain filled the air and thunder clapped loudly above their heads, but the man sat as content as might be, unconcerned about the rain beginning to soak him.
“I am not in the habit of wasting time, Elspeth. I agreed to come and meet ye, so here I am.”
“Nor are ye in the habit of being polite, it seems.”
One of his eyebrows rose, giving him an arrogant look. He pressed his knees into his stallion and guided the animal closer to her with a firm hand on the reins.
“Because I used yer name, lass? Well now, yer brother told me ye were nay the sort of girl impressed with ceremony and titles.”
“My brother told you several things you’d be better off not counting on.” Elspeth suddenly wanted to know what his face looked like beneath that beard. She scoffed at herself for thinking it, annoyed that she couldn’t keep her thoughts on the conversation.
“Is that so?” Something flashed in his eyes that drew an answering flicker from deep inside her. She raised her chin, giving him nothing kind in her expression. But the eager looks on the faces of her brother’s men returned to needle her. The man in front of her was powerful; insulting him was not wise.
That didn’t mean she was set to do what he wanted. Handfasting was sure to gain her nothing. She would have to think of a way to send him away without offending him.
“I came out here to think things through, and I’ve no had any time to do that just yet.”
“So I can leave, is that the way of yer thinking, lass?”
Her horse was nervous with the lightning still making jagged lines across the sky.
“Aye. For the moment. ’Tis nothing against ye.”
He grunted. “Well now, Elspeth, I do believe ye are living up to the very image yer brother painted of ye.” His face darkened. “But I’ve come to meet ye and a bit of surly temper will nae send me packing.”
“Ye’re too accustomed to people pampering ye if you think I am being surly.”
“Pampering?”
He nearly choked on the word, bringing a smile to her lips. Elspeth shrugged.
“Do you mean to imply that yer position does nae bring many to you who do naught but agree with anything ye say?”
The rain began to soak her, a full downpour with no softness to begin it. Wild and harsh, the weather whipped against them, soaking her to the skin in moments. It suited her mood and she didn’t even raise the hood of her cloak but left it draping down her shoulders while the rain wet every inch of her head.
“You certainly don’t suffer from that need.” He sat as content as she in the rain, no hint of dislike for the cold water bathing him. It soaked his shirt, where the front of his doublet was unbuttoned. The fabric plastered itself to his form, allowing her to see the firm ridges of muscle that coated his chest. Apparently he was a man of action. That was in his favor, but it was not enough to gain him hers.
“As if I care what any man thinks of me.” Elspeth kneed her mount and the animal needed no further urging to break into a full run. She did not mind the rain; however, her brother’s horse falling sick would mean trouble for her. But she did not mind taking a care with the stallion. Riding such a magnificent creature meant thinking of its health too. That was the bond that yielded trust between horse and rider. It was getting colder by the minute, so she would have to take the animal back to its dry stable.
The ride back to the stable was very different from the one away from it. A strange awareness invaded her mind, interfering with her normal enjoyment. She couldn’t become one with the beast, couldn’t seem to forget that Hayden Monroe was behind her. She could hear the faint pounding of his horse’s hooves breaking through the thunder to tease her ears. For certain, men had flirted with her in the past, but this was different. She was acutely conscious of the
fact that he was trailing her, actually chasing her for the purpose of bedding her.
That was a wicked thought if ever there was one. It bled through her like scarlet wine spilled on a cream-colored table linen. You knew it would be impossible to remove completely, yet couldn’t help but watch in fascination as it was streaked farther across the fabric.
She wanted to turn her head and look back, but that would only encourage the man. It would be the same as hoisting a flag of surrender. What did it matter if he was well muscled? She needed to recall her mother’s words and the teaching of the church, because handfasting was considered pagan.
That was what she needed to do. She knew it and still part of her wanted to know Laird Monroe better.
Elspeth snorted at herself. She gained the path that led to the tower and growled when she noticed the green and yellow flags of Monroe sticking to the stone of the walls. Even soaked with rain, they still stood out, announcing the presence of the powerful laird.
But what enraged her was the looks she gained when she entered the yard. People poked their heads out of windows and doorways. All of them looking at her expectantly. Her cheeks heated when she realized that they were wondering if she was still a maiden. Many of them looked at her dress, seeking out any little telltale sign that she’d already surrendered to Hayden Monroe.
Well, she would not be.
And that was that.
Chapter 2
They gained the stable and she was forced to slide from the saddle. The yard was already muddy, making her glad she had good boots to protect her feet. A man like Monroe would have a stone courtyard, with thousands upon thousands of small rocks hauled up to his castle to keep the rain from turning the courtyard outside his home into a bog. It was a task for which a smaller clan such as the Leasks did not have the resources.
At least the stable was sturdy and dry. The stallion was happy to be led through the doorway and toward his stall. He snorted and shook the water from his head. Elspeth heard Monroe behind her and peeked back at the man. Slight amazement hit her as she caught him seeing to his horse with his own hands. For so powerful a man, the sure strokes of his hands drew her attention. He was no stranger to the task and even appeared to be enjoying it. No boy appeared to relieve his laird of the chore, which meant the man had either told his people to leave them alone or he always saw to his own stallion.
