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Embraced by a Highlander

Page 8

by Donna Fletcher


  Hannah watched as Slain poured wax into the corner of the document and the cleric quickly pressed his ring into it. Slain repeated the process to apply the MacKewan seal to it as well and as he did, Hannah cast a look to Helice.

  The woman gave a nod of respect to her, then looked to Slain.

  It made Hannah realize that she was no longer a servant and that things would be different. How different though? Would she be a prisoner here as much as Helice seemed to be? Was that what Helice had been trying to warn her about? Had she traded one prison for another?

  “It is done,” Slain said, seeing that his wife still appeared stunned by what had transpired. Her lovely green eyes had deepened in color and had rounded considerably when he had announced she would become his wife, and they had remained so.

  She had seemed as though she wanted to speak, but could find no words. Nor did he think she had heard any of what the cleric had recited. That he had caught her unware was quite apparent and had served him well, for the shock of his announcement had left her speechless. But then she had given her word and Slain, for some reason, believed Hannah an honorable woman and would not have reneged regardless, which made what he had done that more dishonorable.

  It mattered not. Hannah was his wife now and there would be no changing that.

  After Helice escorted the cleric from the room, Slain turned to Hannah. “You are free to do as you please during the day unless I summons you. I take my meals alone and I sleep alone. You will come to my bedchamber only when I summon you. You are not permitted to leave the keep without my permission and never ever are you permitted to go to the east wing.”

  Slain thought she might protest when a slight scowl surfaced on her face, so her question took him by surprise.

  “Why did you wed me?”

  “I had need of a wife.”

  “Why me?” she asked, his answer not satisfying her.

  “You were here. You were convenient.” She appeared ready to question him further and he quickly said, “No more. Go do what you will and do not disturb me.”

  “May I venture outside around the keep without always asking your permission?”

  “No.”

  It was an emphatic no, and so Hannah asked, “May I go outside around the keep now?” Before he could ask why, she explained. “I would like to collect more heather.”

  “Stay away from the thickets,” he ordered.

  Hannah nodded. “Is there anything else—” She paused, not sure how to address him now that he was her husband.

  Slain walked over to her and stopped so close to her that their bodies brushed each other. “Slain or husband will do,” he said, as if knowing her thoughts. He lowered his head so that his lips rested close to hers. “Though there may be times you want to call me a savage.”

  Hannah ignored the spark of fright he had provoked in her and called on her courage. She smiled wide. “I would never call you that, my husband.” She then placed a hasty kiss on his lips and hurried out of the room.

  Slain stood there as speechless and stunned as Hannah had been when they had wed. Until finally, he ran his tongue gently over his lips, tasting the faint flavor she had left behind. He shut his eyes, enjoying the minty sweetness on his lips. Never had he expected her to do that and never had his manhood hardened so quickly at an innocent kiss.

  His eyes shot open and he hastily tucked his tongue back in his mouth to spew oath after oath. She was his wife and he would satisfy himself with her and be done with it. He would feel nothing for her. Nothing at all. He would do his duty as a husband and no more. She was simply a means to a way of solving a problem. No more than that.

  Why then had he felt a jolt to his heart when she had kissed him so innocently?

  The basket lay near empty at Hannah’s side as she stared at the hillside covered in purple heather. She was not so much interested in collecting heather as she was in collecting her thoughts.

  Everything had happened so fast that she had yet to accept she was wed. Was it real? Was she truly Slain MacKewan’s wife? And the question still begged to be answered… why? Why had he wed her? There had to be more to it than she was simply convenient.

  Most of all what would happen when he discovered her true identity? Worse still what would happen when her father discovered who she had wed? Would their union unite her clan with the Clan MacKewan? Could it possibly prove beneficial? Or would her father adamantly reject their union since he had not given his approval?

  She shook her head. Of course he would reject the union. When her father found out that she had wed the chief of the Clan MacKewan, he would be furious, for the Clan MacKewan was his bitter enemy.

  One thing was for certain, her step-brother would use this to his advantage. He would attempt to convince her father that she ran away to purposely defy him and wed Slain MacKewan. That she was a traitor to her own clan. Constant whispers in her father’s ear might well convince him of the accusations until her father finally believed him. When all along it was her step-brother to blame for her disappearance.

  She sighed and shook her head again. Thinking on it all, she came to the conclusion that her situation had worsened rather than improved. She had believed her decision to come here to the Clan MacKewan had been a wise one. It was the one place she would be safe from her step-brother once he found out she was not dead. She had hoped to find a solution to her problem before then.

  She raised her head suddenly as if something had just dawned on her. Perhaps this marriage was the solution to her problem. A frown fell upon her face. There was no telling what Slain would do once he discovered her identity. He could return her to her father which would infuriate him even more since she would return shamed and useless to him, a beneficial marriage no longer viable.

  She did not know what to do, but then what could she do? She was wed to Slain MacKewan. Their marriage only needed to be consummated for it to be sealed, though he could claim that she never spoke up, never spoke the truth of who she was to him. Then what? Would he cast her aside? Return her to her father?

  How much worse could her situation get?

  She could get with child.

  The thought troubled her. What then? What would happen to the bairn?

  She shook her head, her worries growing. She knew there was a way of preventing a man’s seed from taking root. She could ask Neata about it. She shook her head again. Neata had mentioned how she hoped Slain would have a family. She would not betray her chief.

  Hannah had never been with a man, though she was not ignorant to the intimacies between a husband and wife, thanks to her mum. She had been quite blunt about wanting her daughter aware of what to expect from a husband… good or bad.

  It was thanks to the healer who had helped her escape that she was still a virgin, left untouched by the prison guards. The woman had convinced the guards that Hannah and the other women prisoners had a disease that was contagious and deadly to men. The healer had been so convincing that Hannah had actually feared it was true until the healer had confided the truth to her.

  It was not an excuse she wished to use on her husband. The problem was that once their vows were consummated, there would be a chance that his seed would take root and she would be with child. Her concern was what would become of her and that child if in the end when all was discovered, he no longer wanted her as his wife?

  She ran her tongue slowly over her lips, recalling his kiss in the woods and the quiver that had raced through her. She shivered at the memory. He would expect much more from her tonight. Her mum had warned her that if she did not favor the man chosen for her to wed that she should lay there and do nothing and once she was with child he would leave her alone and find his pleasure elsewhere. But if she was lucky and she cared for her husband and her husband cared for her, then intimacy could be something more than just satisfying for them both.

  You are here. You were convenient.

  His own words reminded her that Slain did not care for her. She was simply a mean
s to settle his need of a wife. But he believed her a peasant woman. Why had he wed a peasant woman? She continued to believe there was more to his reason for marrying her than he would say.

  A sudden thought caused her eyes to turn wide. What if he had no intentions of remaining wed to her? What if he was using her with plans to be rid of her? Annoyance stung at her. What had she been thinking in agreeing to whatever he wanted?

  Desperation and fear. Desperation had consumed her decision, believing there was no other choice left to her. Fear shivered her, prickling her skin as she recalled the torture she had suffered and how she would do anything never to suffer it again. Then there had been the fear of being returned home only to find herself not welcome or worse, murdered by her step-brother. Desperation and fear had not allowed her to think wisely.

  Question after question plagued her and with no answers forthcoming, she wondered if she had sealed her fate today and that she had lost far more than she ever imagined.

  Busy your hands.

  Another of her mother’s sage words. Whenever Hannah found herself troubled, her mum would tell her to busy her hands. Her mum had insisted it emptied the mind so that clearer thoughts could prevail.

  Hannah turned her attention to the heather. The sun was shining, though she doubted that would last long. Clouds or a shower would probably roll in bringing with it a deeper chill. She worked in silent thoughts, letting her chore take reign and quash the never-ending questions.

  An unexpected tug at her cloak a short time later had her looking down. She was surprised to see a lass of no more than four or so years. Her braided hair was the color of the darkest night and bright blue eyes, full of tears, looked up at her while her small arms stretched out eagerly to her.

  “Mummy,” she said, her tiny lower lip quivering.

  “Wandered off, did you?” Hannah asked softly and scooped her up. “How about we go find your mummy.”

  The little lass nodded and sniffed back her tears.

  Hannah did not think of seeking permission from her husband, the tiny lass her only concern. Her small head rested on Hannah’s shoulder as she walked toward the village. Her instinct was for the little lass and keeping her safe until she could find her mum.

  Stares greeted her and respectful nods. They knew. The clan knew she was wife to their chief. How? How did they learn of it so soon?

  Whispers and mumbles followed her and no one dared approach her, which did not make it easy to find the little lass’ mum.

  Finally, Hannah spotted a familiar face. “Blair!” she called out and the woman turned, her eyes growing wide.

  Blair approached her with a bob of her head, then stared at her, at a loss of what to say.

  “I am no different than when we first met,” Hannah assured her, “and this little lass looks for her mum.”

  Blair released the smile she had been holding back, and nodded. “That is Cara, Kate’s youngest and only daughter. No doubt one of her three older brothers were told to keep watch over her and failed to do so.” Blair reached her arms out to take the lass, but the little bairn refused to let go of Hannah.

  “She has attached herself to you. She feels safe with you,” Blair said. “The wee lass has good instinct.”

  Odd that Hannah was searching for the same thing that the little lass had found in her… protection.

  Blair called out to a passing lad, “Go fetch Cara’s mum.”

  The lad nodded and hurried off.

  Blair lowered her voice as she asked, “So it is true? You are wife to our chief?”

  “Aye, I am,” Hannah admitted without hesitation. Curiosity as to how the news had spread so fast, though having a hunch, had her asking, “The cleric told you?”

  Blair nodded. “He did and urged us to pray for you being forced to wed a savage.”

  Hannah quickly defended her husband. “Slain is no savage. A troubled soul perhaps, but no savage.”

  “Many would disagree with you,” Blair said.

  “Cara! Cara!” a plump woman called out as she ran toward them. Her full cheeks were flushed and her blue eyes, identical to her daughter’s, shined with fear.

  “Mummy,” Cara cried out, her little arms reaching out to the woman.

  Hannah held the little lass out to her mum and Cara hugged her mum’s neck as if she would never let go as soon as she was safely tucked in the woman’s arms.

  “I am going to box your brothers good for not watching you,” Kate said and as if realizing who she stood before, she bobbed her head. “I am sorry—” Abrupt silence followed as she seemed not to know how to address Hannah.”

  “Hannah. My name is Hannah.”

  “I am much grateful… Hannah,” Kate said a bit hesitantly, “and it is pleased I am that you are wife to our chief.”

  Hannah smiled and laughed softly. “A surprise to us all.”

  Her lovely smile and gentle laughter broke the tension that was palpable.

  “It will be good to have a smiling face at the keep,” Blair said.

  Kate agreed with a nod. “It was such a welcoming place at one time.”

  “Perhaps it can be so again,” Hannah said, wishing it could be so.

  Blair reached out and laid a tender hand on Hannah’s arm. “You are welcome to visit with me any time.”

  “Me as well,” Kate said. “You are always welcome in our home.”

  Hannah felt a tug at her heart. Her father had allowed her few if any friends. It felt freeing to have women who chose to be friends with her, though like her father’s command she would now need to seek permission from her husband to visit with them. That mattered little to her though, since knowing she could visit with them made her feel less a prisoner.

  “The clan wonders if there will be a feast to celebrate the marriage of our chief,” Kate said, Cara keeping herself occupied by playing with her mum’s braid.

  A cloud suddenly rushed in overhead, swallowing the sun at the same moment Kate paled.

  Blair’s eyes turned frightfully wide, and Hannah did not need to turn around to know what had put dreadful fear into the two women. She turned anyway to confirm what she suspected and saw her husband come barreling down on them. His dark scowl was as frightening as his rapid gait and he looked ready to devour all of them whole as he descended on them.

  Hannah would have retreated several steps like the two women did, but showing fear of her husband did not bode well for a new wife. She remained as she was and turned a smile on him, hoping to speak to him and explain what had caused her to disobey him.

  She never got a chance. As soon as he drew near, his hand shot out and gripped her arm. Without a word to anyone, he swung her around and forced her to walk alongside him to the keep.

  Chapter 11

  Slain had not believed his eyes when he had glanced out the window and seen his wife talking with two women in the village. She had blatantly disobeyed him and his anger had mounted. He had not given it a second thought when he went after her. He had grown even more annoyed when he realized she had forced him to do something he had avoided since returning home… go to the village. And she had had the audacity to smile at him. A damn beautiful smile at that.

  Married less than a couple of hours and his wife was already presenting a problem in more ways than he could have comprehended.

  He waited until the door closed behind them in the keep to turn a sharp tongue on her. “You dare disobey me?”

  She winced, not at his words but at his grip that had tightened considerably on an already bruised arm, reminding her of the all too recent torture she had suffered.

  Slain released her arm at her slight gasp and silently cursed himself for not thinking of the bruise he had seen there, his own hand only making it worse.

  Hannah rubbed her arm gently as she spoke. “Cara, a wee bairn, had wandered off and I returned her to her mum. I did not think you would expect me to seek permission for seeing to the safety of one of your own.”

  There was not a woman who ha
d ever left Slain speechless… his wife just did.

  “I meant no disrespect. I only wished to see the wee bairn safe,” Hannah continued. “The two women I spoke with are pleased to know you have wed and wonder if there will be a feast to celebrate the occasion.”

  “There is nothing to celebrate,” he said, his tongue remaining sharp.

  His words disturbed her and had her wondering once again if he had nefarious plans for her. She spoke without thinking. “What do you truly want of me?”

  “I want a dutiful wife who gives me no trouble.” Slain held up his hand when she went to speak again. “And one that does not ask me endless questions.”

  “So to be perfectly clear, I am not to disturb you, ever, and I will see you only when summoned.”

  “Now you understand,” Slain said, though found her words annoying to him.

  “Then please grant me permission now to take my leave of the keep when I wish and go to the village when I wish. I give you my word I will venture no further than the village without your permission. This way I will disturb you even less and you will not have to suffer my endless queries.”

  What she suggested made sense. His need to deal with her would then be infrequent, so why did that annoy him even more?

  “Renege on your word and you will go nowhere and do nothing,” he warned.

  “Thank you, my husband,” Hannah said with a respectful bob of her head.

  Though Hannah seemed grateful and obedient, he wondered if he had just agreed to something he would regret.

  His concern had him taking a step toward her and lowering his face close to hers. “Do not play false with me or you will regret it.”

  “I have no wont to do that, my husband. I will leave you to yourself now,” she said and as she did earlier, she brushed a quick kiss over his lips and hurried out of the room.

  Slain stared after her, wondering over her innocent kisses, though they truly were not innocent, at least to him. The earlier one had stunned him in more ways than one, arousing him much too fast. This one had left a tingle on his lips that radiated through his body, sparking his manhood and arousing him more than before.

 

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