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

by Julie Johnstone

  A throat cleared behind him. Iain broke the kiss and turned to see Lachlan standing there grinning and staring. Iain glared at his brother until he finally looked away.

  “Yer absence is being noted. I hate to take ye away from yer wife”—Lachlan gave Marion an overly appreciative glance that made Iain grit his teeth—“but ye really should stay for the rest of the feast, as it’s in honor of yer safe return to us with yer bride.”

  Iain pressed Marion’s hand to his chest. “Join me?”

  She shook her head, refusing to meet his gaze. “I truly am tired. I’ll just retire to my chamber if it’s been readied.”

  Iain frowned. He’d hoped Marion would have decided she wanted to sleep with him and not in different chambers. He knew he’d offered her the chamber, but it had only been to try to please her. He wanted her with him. “It’s nae ready,” he said, glad for it. “Ye’ll have to sleep with me.”

  Whatever she was feeling, his wife, who usually wore her emotions on her face like clothing, simply nodded, expressionless. “If you wish.”

  “I’ll nae be long,” he promised.

  She nodded and turned to leave, disappearing around the corner as he stared after her.

  “Ye watch her like a hungry man watches a deer he intends to consume.”

  Iain faced Lachlan. “She makes me feel like there’s an insatiable hunger in me.”

  “Why does that make ye frown? It seems a good thing to me.”

  Iain scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m nae sure I can keep my control with her.” She’d already made him forget himself in the bedchamber, but he wasn’t going to share that.

  Astonishment crossed Lachlan’s face. “Ye’ve never lost control afore her, have ye?”

  Iain turned away, not wanting Lachlan to see the truth. He’d loved Catriona, but she’d not stirred a storm in him as Marion did. He felt at once guilty and disturbed. What was it that Marion did to him? He abruptly turned back to his brother. Whatever it was, he’d not discover the answer in the great hall while his wife was upstairs. The sooner supper was over, the sooner he could go to her and try to sort out the knots she’d tied in him. “Come. We must get back to the feast.”

  Lachlan looked as if he might argue, so Iain brushed past him, strode into the great hall, and resumed his seat with his other brothers. It seemed an hour had passed as he listened to the bard, and then he sat as several of his clansmen came to speak to him. Finally, his people started to disperse, and he stood.

  “Iain,” Cameron said, “I need a moment.”

  Iain barely held in the desire to refuse his brother’s request. Cameron had been sitting at the table with him all evening and there had been much time to talk, but obviously he wanted a private moment.

  Iain nodded. “What is it?”

  Cameron glanced around the great hall, as if to verify they were alone. “I’ve been speaking with Raghnall and he is certain he can build us the faster ships we discussed. He’s demanding half the payment for them now.”

  “What do ye think?” Iain inquired. He knew what he thought they should do, but he wanted his brother to decide. It was time that Cameron asserted himself and felt the pressures and rewards of making decisions. As the youngest MacLeod brother, Cameron had yet to truly find his place.

  Cameron tugged on his beard. He was the only one of them who wore one. “I think we should pay him as he requests, but I should personally oversee the building and make sure he completes it quickly.”

  Iain nodded. He was pleased with Cameron’s decision. Faster ships were worth the money for the speed they could bring in battle. “Very well, then. Proceed.”

  Iain started to rise again, keen to get to Marion, but Cameron went on. “Do ye want to see the drawings Raghnall and I did?”

  Cameron wore an unmistakably eager expression that Iain could not deny, no matter how much he wanted to rush upstairs to Marion. “Of course,” he replied, hoping Marion would stay awake for him.

  Marion awoke the next morning, when Bridgette thoughtfully came to lend her another gown until she could have another made. Once Bridgette had departed, Marion stared first at the indentation in the fine feather mattress on Iain’s side of the bed and then at the pile of clothes he’d discarded in front of the bed, the ones he’d worn yesterday. So he had slept here but had apparently awoken and left. She sighed as she started to dress for the day in the gown Bridgette had brought her, questions and concerns swirling in her head. She still could not believe that she loved Iain and that she’d foolishly told him. But she had not wanted to lie to his face, and she’d seen no other option but to offer the truth.

  She worried that her confession was the thing that kept Iain only by her side while she was asleep, and it was making her feel slightly queasy. Coupled with the awful things Fiona had said to her last night, Marion wanted to climb back into bed and hide from the world. But she’d never been a coward before, and she was not going to become one now. After a servant came and helped Marion tie her gown, Marion went to Catriona’s trunk, drawn once again by her curiosity.

  Catriona had died so young and so unfairly, so the niggle of jealousy Marion felt toward the woman made her feel awful. Fiona had told her at the feast that Catriona had confessed on her deathbed that Iain had wanted to fly the Fairy Flag to save her, but Catriona had vowed that if he did, she’d fling herself from a cliff. The woman was selfless. For the good of her clan, Catriona had made her husband stay his hand.

  Marion swallowed the large lump in her throat. Iain had loved Catriona with all his heart. He’d loved her so much he’d been willing to put the needs of the clan after his need to save his wife. Marion’s heart twisted. He’d never love her that way. He’d said himself that he’d never fly the flag for her, and even knowing that, she’d confessed her feelings.

  What did she do now? She glanced around the bedchamber, feeling like an intruder and out of sorts. One of the few places she felt truly comfortable was in a kitchen, and the kitchen here certainly could use her help. She wondered if Iain would frown upon it as her father had, until he realized how much better the food tasted with her directing the staff.

  She heaved a sigh as she started for the door. She was going to have to go search out Iain and gain his permission to make some changes in the kitchen. The prospect of locating the husband who seemed to be avoiding her was daunting, but if she was going to get the MacLeod women to like her, she had to start somewhere besides Fiona and Alanna, both of whom clearly despised her.

  A while later, after searching for Iain and not finding him, she ran into Bridgette, who insisted on helping her locate him. Marion knew Bridgette had only agreed because she wanted to see Lachlan. Still, she was glad for the company. The first two servants they stopped to ask thought the men were at the stables, but they only found Angus there. He spent some time demanding to know what had happened last night, and after Marion had told him, she had to soothe him to ensure he’d not confront Fiona. Once he was calm, he told her that Iain and Lachlan were training by the water. Before Marion and Bridgette made their escape from the stables, however, Archibald appeared, red-faced because Bridgette had apparently been evading him, and insisted on seeing the women safely to Iain.

  Archibald spoke of the sea as they descended the seagate stairs, and Marion stared out at the water of the loch and recalled the breathtaking cerulean water of the sea that lay directly beyond it. Today, birds blanketed the sky, calling in loud squawks from above. And still higher than the birds could even hope to reach were scores of dark storm clouds.

  Marion imagined Iain was readying his men for a possible attack from her father and Froste. At least Marion hoped that was the reason behind the early training rather then the alternative of Iain avoiding her.

  Before she saw Iain, she heard steel crashing against steel. The sounds of battle led them across the land and around the corner of the cliff wall like a torch in the darkness. She gasped at the sight of her husband standing in the center of a circle of S
cots. He was shirtless with his sword raised above his head, his brother Lachlan facing him.

  They circled each other, obviously very nearly matched in expertise from what she watched. Iain would serve a blow, his thick, bulging forearms the only sign that the sword weighed more than a feather. As he brought his sword down for the third time and Lachlan met him in the air, the corded muscles in Iain’s stomach tightened like bands sewn together perfectly. He backed Lachlan so close to the edge of the large circle that the crowd of men had to shuffle back to keep from being overtaken by the fight.

  “Yer husband is the most skilled fighter I’ve ever seen,” Archibald commented.

  “Me as well,” Marion murmured, awed by the unbridled power that flowed from him.

  “Lachlan is fiercer,” Bridgette inserted, ever loyal to a man who did not seem to appreciate her.

  Marion glanced at Bridgette to give her a sympathetic smile, but her breath caught at the jealousy she saw flashing in Archibald’s eyes. He truly cared for Bridgette, yet Bridgette pined for Lachlan. For a heartbeat, Marion’s problems seemed less complicated. Until she saw that the fight had ended and Fiona had appeared from around the corner with a bucket of mead and a cup for Iain.

  Fiona dipped the cup in the bucket and handed it to Iain, who took it with a grin. Marion’s temper snapped. She stormed across the rocky terrain, or she tried to storm, as the uneven land made her progress wobbly and slow. She barged through the men who appeared rather stunned to see her, but she did not stop for a single nicety, as she normally would, until she stood face-to-face with Iain, who was so bold as to bestow a smile on her after the one he’d just given Fiona.

  She plunked her hands on her hips and glared up at her husband. “I need to speak to you now!” She’d meant to ask him and not demand. And she’d certainly not meant to yell a command at her husband in front of his men, but Fiona had put her hand on Iain’s arm, and well, Marion simply felt as if she were going to explode.

  Iain tried to shrug Fiona’s hand off his arm as he stared down at Marion, who by her glittering eyes, high color, and flared nostrils was in a fierce temper about something. Iain’s gut told him that something was Fiona and her hand on his arm. His wife loved him and she was jealous. Of Fiona. He grinned, even as he contemplated how to address the problem of Fiona and assuage Marion’s delicate feelings. Whether his wife ever realized it or not, he’d already ascertained she was delicate. Oh, she was tough on the outside, but beneath that outer shell of iron, her core consisted of pure soft love and a giving heart.

  When Fiona refused to move her hand, he removed it for her and took Marion by the arm. As he guided her away to a cave, he barked an order over his shoulder for Lachlan to keep training the men.

  Once Iain and Marion were hidden by the cave walls, he turned to face her. He meant to chide her for ordering him about in front of his men, but her teeth were chattering as the wind whipped her pale hair against her face. She reached up, twined her hair quickly, and then crossed her arms over her chest.

  He frowned. “Why are ye nae wearing a cloak?”

  “I left my mother’s behind to make it appear as if I’d drowned.”

  “I did nae ken it was yer mother’s cloak yer father spoke of. I’m sorry for that and that I’ve nae appointed one of the women to sew ye another. That was rude of me.”

  She shrugged. “Bridgette loaned me a gown, but she only has one cloak. Usually, the mistress of the castle would attend my needs, but as Fiona hates me and is so busy attending to your needs, I doubt a cloak for me—or any clothing, for that matter—is on her mind at all.”

  “Now, Marion,” he started, but her scowl silenced him. He sensed she needed to speak.

  “I do not like the way Fiona looks at you and touches you.”

  “Neither do I,” he immediately agreed. “What do ye want me to do about it? Do ye want me to marry her to someone from another clan?” He easily could. He had briefly considered the idea, but he was reluctant to send her away without giving her time to adjust to his new bride.

  Marion shook her head. “No. That would only make all the other women hate me. And I’m still not certain I cannot gain her favor. I just need time.”

  “One month,” he decided. “That’s enough time for the woman to stop acting like ye’re the devil and I’m a prize to be won.”

  “You’re no prize,” Marion grumbled.

  He caught his wife around the waist and pulled her to him, crushing her softness to his bare skin. The contact instantly aroused him. “Ye did nae think that the night before last when ye screamed and moaned in my arms,” he whispered huskily in her ear, contemplating and reluctantly dismissing the idea of taking her here in the cave. His men were too near.

  Marion shoved back against his chest, but he refused to loosen his hold. She looked up at him, her annoyance apparent on her face. “Well, I certainly thought so last night when you failed to join me in bed as you said you would.”

  “Did ye want me to join ye?” he asked, nipping her ear and then brushing kisses down her neck to her collarbone. She shivered in his arms.

  “I wish I’d wanted it a little less than I did,” she admitted, her voice full of misery.

  He lifted his head from where he had been kissing her collarbone and caught her eye. “I like verra much that ye long for me to join ye in bed.”

  “Do you?” The suddenly doubtful look on her face made him ache to reassure her.

  “I do. I wanted to come directly to ye last night and bury myself between yer welcoming thighs, but Cameron would nae quit talking.”

  “And you could not refuse your brother’s request,” she said in a soft voice.

  “I could nae. Are ye angry?”

  “Angry? No. I’m happy. I wish, well… ’Tis nothing.”

  “What do ye wish? Tell me what ye desire and I’ll give it to ye.” At this moment, he wasn’t sure he could refuse her anything.

  “I wish I had family that loved me the way you clearly love your brothers. The only person who loves me is Angus, and while I do think of him as family, it would have been nice if my father loved me, or if…” Her words trailed off into awkward silence, but she didn’t need to finish her sentence. He knew what she’d been about to say. She wanted his love. She already had more of him than she understood, and the amount she’d managed to claim already worried him. If he were to lose her…or to forget Catriona because of the wild emotions Marion sparked in him…

  “It’s a foolish girl’s dream,” she blurted.

  “Marion,” he started, not even sure what to say. “I— Ye mean a great deal to me.”

  She looked as if he’d hit her. He cursed himself. He wanted to give her something she wanted, something that in her mind meant she was important to him. “I’m going to make certain yer bedchambers are readied today.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered, looking even more dejected than she had seconds ago.

  He frowned. “Do ye nae want that?”

  “I didn’t,” she said, surprising him, “but I’m thinking now that it is possibly best.”

  “Why are ye thinking it’s best now?” he demanded, losing his temper. The woman was making him crazy.

  “You took my love from me like a thief in the night!” Accusation barbed her words. “From this point on, I refuse to give you any more.”

  “Love kinnae be stolen, woman.”

  Her eyes popped open wide, and her jaw clenched. “It can! You took mine without my knowing it, but my eyes are wide now,” she said, motioning wildly in the air. “From now on, I’m going to guard my heart from you. You won’t give me yours, so I refuse to give you more of mine.”

  “Laird,” came a deep voice from outside of the cave. “Yer brother is wondering if ye’ll be returning or if we can cease the training now.”

  “I’m coming,” Iain roared, without taking his gaze from his wife. “I must go.”

  “Go, then!” She waved a hand at him.

  He’d never been dismissed by
anyone other than his father. He crossed his arms and stared, unblinking, at her. “Ye leave,” he ordered, regretting the words as he said them. A wounded look flickered in her eyes. “Marion,” he reached for her as she scuttled away from him.

  “I’ll be happy to leave!” she growled and stomped out of the cave.

  In one stride, he caught her by the elbow and swung her around. “Marion,” he whispered hoarsely while wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m hurting ye. I dunnae want to.”

  “I know you don’t mean to hurt me,” she replied as she pushed against him for space he refused to give her. Finally, she stopped trying when he simply tightened his hold. Her stormy gaze locked with his. “I’m sorry for my temper.”

  He noted she did not take back the words about guarding her heart from him, yet he released her. When she did not take a step back, he laced his fingers with hers. Now that he had her love, he wanted more, not less. He was in no position to ask it, though.

  “Was there a reason ye sought me out down here?” he asked.

  “Yes. I wanted your consent to change some things in the kitchen. I, er, saw that the bread was quite stale at supper. I think I can be of help to the women who do the cooking.”

  “Ye dunnae need my consent to oversee the kitchen. Ye are the mistress of Dunvegan now, nae Fiona. I will speak to her, and ye should do as ye wish.”

  Marion looked imploringly at him. “Please don’t speak with her. You’ll make things worse. I’ll handle Fiona myself, as I’ve said.”

  “Fine,” he agreed, glad Marion seemed less upset now. “Then I’ll be training for the rest of the afternoon if ye need me.”

  Her eyes widened. “Do you always train for so long?”

  “Nae. Unless I’m expecting trouble.”

  “Froste and my father,” she said, nibbling her lip.

  “Aye, but ye dunnae have to worry. I’ll defend ye with my life, and so will my clan.” He thought his words would remove the concern from her face, but all the color leeched from her skin, leaving it looking nearly translucent.