When a Laird Loves a Lady (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 1)

by Julie Johnstone

  Behind her, she could hear Iain’s low laugh, which filled her with gladness. So her future husband had a sense of humor. That was a good start. Encouraged, she continued. “When I got weary of being pampered by my loving father, I decided to help others he loved to pamper with regular beatings.” She raised her eyebrows at Rory Mac, certain she had made herself clear and daring him to ask her more.

  “Ye’re bold for a Sassenach.” His tone carried just a hint of surprise.

  “Well, I am half-Scottish, so maybe my boldness comes from that bloodline,” she offered as a sort of olive branch of friendship.

  “Aye.” He beamed. “I’m sure ye’re correct.” With that, Rory Mac moved the horse carrying Neil and him ahead of her and Iain.

  Iain’s hand moved against her belly, his fingers brushing perilously close to the underside of her breasts. Her body shuddered. “Ye did good, Marion.”

  Heat consumed her chest and belly and made her shift as it spread through her. Was the need for his respect making her feel so strange? “Thank you,” she murmured.

  “Ye’re welcome. Now, quit yer wiggling,” he demanded, his warm breath fanning her earlobe.

  The pleasure of seconds ago disappeared. He barked orders much as her father always had. “Then loosen your hold,” she snapped.

  “Why?” he teased gently. “Does my touch light a fire of want within ye?”

  “A fire?” she asked, her voice shaking. ’Twas true that the way the man went from cold to hot in his tone made her thoughts tumble over one another. And his fingers… They brushed back and forth over her ribs, making her heart pound so fast she was having trouble controlling her breathing. Suddenly, his fingers stilled and pressed into her flesh once again.

  “Desire.” His words came out low and husky.

  She stilled. How had he known? How had she not?

  His body shook with suppressed laughter. “Ye’ve never experienced desire, have ye?” he asked as they left the road they were on, taking them out of the sight of the guards. She glanced behind her, catching a smug look in Iain’s icy blue eyes. She stiffened her spine and glared at him. “I’d rather not talk about it right now,” she murmured, hot mortification singeing her cheeks.

  He nodded his agreement. “Likely best. We need to make haste.” And then, without another word, he clicked his tongue and his destrier took off in a gallop. Up ahead, Rory Mac’s horse did the same. She supposed the beast could sense the shift of pace of the other animal.

  The wind whipped her hair in her face and sliced through her gown. She shivered but was soon shaking and clenching her teeth in an effort to control it. They approached the end of the path, coming close to her father’s castle. She was about to tell Iain when he pulled up on the reins and slowed his horse to a stop. Ahead of them, Rory Mac slowed his horse and turned back to look at them. Without a sound, Iain raised a hand and motioned Rory Mac around. The man immediately obeyed without question. Marion’s teeth chattered in the silence as she pondered this. Would Iain expect the same blind obedience from her as he apparently got from his men?

  Before she could think on it further, he spoke. “Ye’re freezing,” he said, shifting behind her. His arm released her, and then both hands encircled her as he drew her so close to him that she could feel the beat of his heart through the thin material of her gown. In the next instant, a heavy fabric was laid over her legs and tucked behind her back and under her chin. She glanced down to see the plaid he’d been wearing, and her eyes flew open wide as she craned her neck to look at him.

  She gasped as her gaze locked on his bare legs. He wore nothing but a long léine. “You cannot ride around like that! You’re naked.”

  He grinned. “I assure ye, I’m nae. If ye’d care to see me naked…”

  He was trying to provoke her. She shook her head. “No.”

  He stared at her as if he were trying to read her thoughts. “Ye ken ye desire me.”

  “I don’t know a thing about desire,” she snapped, though she suspected he was right and that the odd feeling he’d been causing in her was indeed lust.

  “It’s nae bad ye desire me. I desire ye, too.” He said the last as if that fact bothered him, but he spoke again before she could consider why. “’Tis the truth. It will make being married more pleasant for both of us.”

  “Do you want a pleasant marriage?” If he did, at least that was something. Many men just wanted a wife to give them babies and do their bidding.

  He shrugged. “It matters little what I want. We’re to be married by the wishes of our kings, so we will be.”

  “It matters to me what you want,” she said. “I don’t wish for a husband who will treat me poorly.”

  “I dunnae treat anyone poorly,” he replied, his voice gruff. “Simply do as I tell ye, stay out of my way, and we will live peacefully.”

  She ground her teeth. “So you want a wife without an opinion who will obey your every command?”

  “A wife must listen.”

  His hard, unbending tone irritated her. “You want a dog not a wife,” she grumbled.

  “Ye’ve strange ideas about a woman’s place, Marion.”

  Maybe she did, but her mother used to tell her stories every night about her sisters who had married for love and how wonderful their lives were. Marion wanted that. She had longed for a happy family for as long as she could remember, and she had known deep within that the key to that was love. A husband had to love his wife, or at the very least be capable of love, unlike her father. She stilled, fear rising in her chest. She couldn’t even say if Iain was capable of love or not.

  “Have you ever been in love?” she blurted.

  He started at her question. “Aye.” The word throbbed with suppressed pain that made Marion instantly curious about what had happened and completely relieved that he could feel for another with such depth. “What happened to the woman you loved?”

  “She died,” he replied, the words catching in his throat.

  Marion bit her lip at how awful it was to lose someone you loved. She’d never been in love, but she had loved her mother greatly and lost her. “I’m so sorry,” she offered lamely. “How did she die?” Sometimes it helped to talk of it. At least it had helped her to talk to Angus about the unfairness of her mother’s passing.

  “She was sick,” he replied, his voice like a blast of cold air. “Dunnae ask me of my wife again. Ken?”

  “Your wife?” she gasped, unable to control her reaction. “I didn’t know you’d been married before.”

  “There was no reason ye would,” he said, his tone still chilly as if her words had opened a wound and he was now irritated. She struggled to find something to say to put him at ease when he clicked his tongue again and his horse began to move.

  In the distance, she could see her father’s castle, and her thoughts shifted from Iain to Angus. She clutched Iain’s hard thigh before she realized what she was doing. When she felt the muscles tense under her touch, she released him, her cheeks flaming.

  “We need a plot to get Angus out of the castle,” she said, turning to the subject that most needed to be addressed.

  “I already have one,” he replied dismissively.

  She clenched her teeth and inhaled a long steady breath. “I wish to be part of the plot.”

  “It’s best ye learn now, Marion, that ye’ll nae always get what ye wish,” Iain said, pulling his horse to a stop next to some large trees where Rory Mac was already helping Neil off the horse. Iain dismounted quickly and assisted Marion down. Once her feet hit the ground, she turned toward him, her temper flaring that he too seemed to think her spoiled and pampered.

  “I’ve learned well enough that I’ll not always get what I want, but in this, I must demand.”

  Iain shook his head, his jaw set in obvious determination. “I’ve spoken, and that is that.”

  That was that!? He’d spoken!?

  She turned away from him before she said some rather unladylike things. She learned in dealing with
her hard-hearted father that sometimes it was better to simply do what you wanted rather than ask and be denied. And she wanted to help rescue Angus. It made perfect sense. She knew her father’s castle and Iain did not.

  Iain may not know Marion de Lacy very well yet, but he knew she was angry. Any clot-heid who could see would recognize it from her narrowed eyes and high color. Plus, she turned swiftly away from him and her back was stiff and her foot tapping. He knew she wanted to help, but the best way she could help him was to ensure he did not worry about keeping her safe.

  “Marion, turn around,” he commanded. When she didn’t budge, he stifled the annoyance that threatened to overflow and decided to try a gentler approach. She didn’t know the way of the Highlands, after all. Maybe she didn’t understand that she should obey him without command, yet given his meeting with her father, he suspected de Lacy had demanded obedience without question. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Marion thought he was going to be as cruel to her as her father must have been.

  “Marion,” he tried again. When she didn’t turn toward him, he decided he could waste no more time. He grasped her by the shoulders and spun her around. She stubbornly kept her gaze down. He suppressed an unexpected desire to smile. He wasn’t used to being defied, and he should be angry, but instead, he was impressed at her bravery. He hooked a finger under her chin and tipped her face to his until she had no choice but to look at him. “When I’m talking to ye, I’d like to ken ye’re listening. Especially when yer safety is involved. Ken?”

  “Just because I’m not looking at you does not mean I don’t hear you,” she said. “And I already told you I want to help.”

  “Ye did. And the best way for ye to help is to stay here.”

  She scowled at him and shook her head. “I know the castle.”

  “And ye ken the men. If ye had to kill one of them, would ye?” When her eyes widened and her lips parted, he nodded. “Ye see, ye’d be a hindrance and nae a help.” Before she could say anything, he turned to Rory Mac, who had been standing nearby, silently watching the exchange.

  “Keep her out of the castle,” Iain commanded.

  Rory Mac nodded. “I’ll keep her safe.”

  Iain could tell by the derisive noises coming from Marion that she intended to argue, so he stopped her before she could start. “Nay,” he said, his hard tone warning her. “Ye will do as I say and stay with Rory Mac.”

  “I said nothing,” she muttered.

  “Ye were going to.”

  Marion huffed out a breath.

  The little hints of how she felt fascinated him. He had to force himself to concentrate on his task instead of wondering what she might do next. “I’ll get Angus and yer priest—”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why would you collect Father John?”

  There was no polite way to tell her this, so he simply stated the truth without preamble. “We need to be wed and the marriage consummated as soon as possible.”

  A shocked expression settled on her face, and she took a step away from him. “What?” she demanded in a hoarse whisper.

  Rory Mac laughed deeply, and Iain scowled at him. “Tend to Neil.”

  “But I already—”

  “Do it again!” Iain clipped.

  “Aye, Iain.” Rory Mac turned and went to the tree where Neil lay with his eyes closed.

  Iain stared through the darkness at this woman who was to be his wife. She was a stranger, yet he already knew she was brave and loyal, and he did not want to add to the pain he assumed she’d already had to endure.

  He stepped toward her and touched her elbow. Her body trembled under his fingertips. Was she going to faint?

  She surprised and impressed him by shoving his hand away, notching her chin up, and pushing her shoulders back. “Since I know it’s not a great need for my person that’s driving you to force me to be wed in wee hours, I suppose on the dirt upon which we stand will do…”

  Guilt pricked him for where her innocence would be taken, but there was no choice. The marriage needed to be completed with the joining as quickly as possible. “Nae. We’ll find a nice patch of soft grass somewhere,” he teased in hopes to lighten the grave situation, but her sharp intake of breath told him she was not amused.

  “How considerate of you,” she retorted. “I suppose you feel the need to seal the marriage before we flee.”

  The time for teasing was over. “I dunnae like the circumstances anymore than ye do, Marion. We’ll flee first, then see to the other.”

  “You’re mistaken if you think joining your body with mine will stop my father if he’s made up his mind to defy King Edward.”

  “I dunnae think our joining will stop yer father, Marion, but it will make ye mine in the eyes of my clan.”

  “And what about in your eyes, Iain?” she demanded, her voice belying her anxiety. “Will that make me officially yours?”

  His gaze slid over her voluptuous body, barely visible now in the dark, but he could remember every detail from her long slender neck to her delicate fingers to her round bottom that had pressed between his thighs on the horse. He heated instantly. “Ye were mine the moment I consented to marry ye. Now tell me, where might I find Angus and the priest?”

  Her jaw jutted out, but she huffed out a breath and spoke. “The priest will likely be in the chapel near where the stables were, which is where you will likely find Angus, as well, working to create makeshift shelters for the horses. Unless—” Her words halted, and she gulped. “Unless Father has tied him to the post where he beats people and left Angus as an example.”

  Iain’s gut twisted in disgust. “Does yer father do that often?”

  “Yes,” she whispered, her right hand finding her left and her fingers curling around her wrist. She rubbed the skin as if in memory of being tied there herself.

  It took all Iain’s determination not to tell her he wanted to kill her father. She may hate the man, but he was still her father. “Where is the post?”

  “The bailey near the front gate.”

  He nodded. “What can ye tell me about the castle, in case I need to enter?”

  “Let me show you,” she countered, her voice a hopeful plea.

  Though it made a great deal of sense to have her with him as his guide, he could not bear the thought of taking her deliberately into danger. If he didn’t come back, Rory Mac would know to flee and take her to safety. Iain didn’t even need to say it, the Scots knew each other that well. They’d grown up together, and Rory Mac was like a brother.

  “Nay,” he said, making sure his tone brooked no argument. “Stay here.” He turned and caught Rory Mac’s eyes, understanding passing between them. Iain retrieved his sword from his tethered mount, and then he headed into the black night to rescue Angus and get the priest.

  It did not take long, even on foot, to close the distance to the ditch that surrounded the castle’s outer court. The bridge was drawn and the towers manned, which meant the only possible way into the castle was through the dark, stale-smelling water that filled the ditch. He’d cross the divide from the side of the wall, scale the wooden stockade, and make his way across the bailey to find Angus and the priest. Hopefully they were not in the keep, instead.

  Iain crouched low to the ground, hidden by trees, and eyed the stockade, searching for the best place to climb and contemplating how to draw the guards’ attention away from the wall. Perhaps another fire?

  Just as he settled on the idea, the pounding of horses’ hooves filled the silent night behind him, and out of the darkness rode his future wife, the moon shining bright upon her. Her pale hair glowed in the moonlight, like one of the fairies of Dunvegan Castle. God’s truth, he blinked to make sure he was seeing clearly, but it was certainly Marion, calling in a loud voice for the drawbridge to be lowered.

  As she rode by him, a look of defiance graced her face as his plaid flew behind her and landed near where he was crouched. As he snatched it up and quickly put it on, two thoughts collided at once: she was brave a
nd beautiful, and the combination was potently enticing and dangerous.

  Stay here, he’d told her. She’d nodded her agreement, hadn’t she?

  He thought back to the moment as he slipped down the side of the ditch into the dark waters of the moat. When he dove into the slimy water, the recollection came to him. She’d not agreed. Nay. He’d not waited for it, either. He’d simply assumed she would listen. That was the last time he’d assume anything about the Sassenach.

  Four

  The second slap from her father was the one that sent her to her knees. She wasn’t there long, though. He yanked her up by her hair and jerked her head back until stars danced in her vision. Truly, they did a jig. She blinked and the stars in the sky settled and stilled.

  Thank heaven. She was on the verge of being sick, and she’d almost rather die than show her father such weakness. Her cheek throbbed painfully, and she considered that, perhaps, riding into the castle had not been the best idea. When she’d persuaded Rory Mac to walk a distance away and turn his back to her with the lie that she needed to relieve herself, she’d only thought of providing the distraction Iain needed to retrieve Angus and the priest. Hopefully, Iain would consider that if he decided to rescue her. She wasn’t at all certain that he would come to her aid, however; he’d likely conclude that having her as a bride would be too much trouble, and Rory Mac would likely agree.

  “Tell me the truth,” her father roared as he released her head and gave her a shove forward. She almost fell again, but Andrew caught her by the arm. Her father’s fist crashed into Andrew’s face, letting the knight know what her father thought about his aiding her. Poor Andrew staggered to the ground beside her. She quickly shook her head at him.

  “Do not dare to help her,” Father ordered as he stepped in front of her once again. “Marion, on my word, if you don’t tell me the truth, I’ll beat you until you beg for death. Now, where did you go when you fled from here? From whom did you get that horse?” He pointed a gloved finger toward Rory Mac’s destrier. Iain’s beast had refused to let her mount him.