Forbidden Night with the Highlander

by Michelle Willingham

  ‘I ken that.’ But she was frightened to face what would come. ‘I am afraid of what my father will say. I—I never imagined I would do something like this to avoid marriage to Rhys de Laurent. But he still wants me to marry the man who killed my brother.’ She turned to face him, feeling the raw emotions rise up once more. ‘I cannot marry him. I will do anything to escape this prison. Even wed a stranger.’

  Her Highlander traced the outline of her face. There was a sudden hard cast to his expression, as if he recognised that she had used him in this way. She hoped he would understand why she had made this choice.

  But at last, he stared into her eyes and admitted, ‘Lianna, I am Rhys de Laurent.’

  Chapter Four

  Hatred rose up on her face with such ferocity, Rhys had no doubt that if she’d had a blade, she would have buried it in his heart.

  ‘You black-hearted bastard,’ she accused, shoving him away. ‘How could you do this? You lied to me.’

  He was not about to let her cast the blame upon his shoulders. ‘I came here to tell you the truth. But you would not let me speak.’

  ‘Because I thought your name was Gavin MacAllister!’ She jerked the sheet away and wrapped it around her body. ‘You deceived me, making me believe you were one of us. But you were only my enemy, from the moment I laid eyes upon you.’

  He remained seated upon her bed. ‘Your father suggested that I dress as a Highlander so I could learn what sort of woman you are. If you knew who I was, you would not have listened to anything I said. He wanted me to meet you before our marriage, in the hopes that we could start out differently, not as enemies.’

  ‘You will be my enemy until you take your last breath,’ she swore. Her face was scarlet with rage and humiliation, but he would not leave her until they had settled this.

  ‘I learned that you were a beautiful woman who cares deeply for her people. And when your brother tried to slaughter us, I told your father we should not wed.’

  ‘And I agree!’ she shot back. ‘If you think for one moment that I will wed the man who killed Sían, I—’

  ‘He killed my friend.’ Rhys made no effort to curb the chill in his voice. ‘Because of your brother, his wife is now a widow with a child on the way and no one to care for them. He shot Ailric from the shadows with his bow, like a coward.’

  ‘And in return, you cut him down.’ She stood from the bed, backing away.

  Rhys rose to face her, striding forward without bothering to put on clothes. She took another step backwards, but then stopped and raised her chin to defy him. For a moment, there was a silent battle between them.

  ‘I would never let any man harm my friends,’ Rhys said coolly. ‘Sían had no cause to attack us. I will not apologise for defeating him in the fight.’

  She raised tear-filled eyes to his. ‘Do you honestly believe I can forgive you for what you did?’

  His face turned grave. ‘The moment you gave your innocence to me, you bound us in marriage. I warned you what it meant. I gave you every opportunity to say no.’

  Her fury stretched out within her, intensifying her guilt. For he was right. If she had never opened her arms to him, they might have avoided a union.

  ‘My father sent you to me, didn’t he? And you disguised yourself so I would not ken who you really were.’

  Rhys’s face hardened. ‘I came to reveal the truth to you tonight. I wore the same clothing so you would know what I said was true.’ His dark blue eyes narrowed. ‘I told Alastair I would not wed you until I confessed my identity. You deserved that much.’ He had known she would despise him and was fully prepared to face her hatred. But when she had kissed him, offering herself to him, the force of his desire had driven out all else.

  Even now, bound up within the bedsheets, he found her beautiful. Her brown eyes gleamed with unshed tears, and her hair spilled over her bare shoulders like a fiery mantle. No longer did it matter that they were on opposite sides of this alliance. He would never let any other man touch her.

  When Lianna had taken him into her body, it had felt as if it were meant to be, that they belonged together. He had understood what Ailric had meant about waking up beside a woman and feeling that sense of contentment.

  He wanted that still, and he was determined to have her, in spite of her hatred.

  ‘How do you know Gaelic?’ she demanded.

  ‘My grandmother spoke it with me, ever since I was a child,’ he admitted. ‘She visited us from time to time, and she insisted that I learn your language.’ Because Margaret had known that he would one day take his place as chief of this clan. He could never assume that leadership without fluency in their language.

  ‘And what of you?’ he asked in the Norman tongue. ‘Can you speak my language?’

  He detected a flicker of recognition in her eyes, but she would not admit it if she did. She continued to speak Gaelic and insisted, ‘I will never marry you. I would rather drown myself in the sea.’

  ‘You have no choice now,’ he said. ‘You may be carrying my heir.’

  Horror washed over her, and she shook her head. ‘I’m not.’

  ‘We won’t know that for many weeks,’ he said calmly. And given her fiery temperament, it would not be the last time she shared his bed. She might hate him now, but even she could not deny that he had satisfied her. Lianna had seduced him the first time, but he would claim her again.

  She crossed her arms in front of her chest, still holding the sheet. ‘I want you to leave my chamber. And do not return, unless you want my dagger buried in your heart.’

  He picked up his trews and donned them, noting the flush upon her cheeks. Deliberately, he stood before her, tightening his muscles as he slid his léine over his head. Lianna bit her lip and then turned away.

  He would not bother her again this night, for it was too soon. Only time would soothe the ragged edges of her hatred. ‘I will send food to you. Then you will prepare your belongings. We will journey to Montbrooke where the formal betrothal will be signed and our marriage witnessed.’

  Her eyes flared with anger, and she said, ‘I will go nowhere with you.’

  He changed tactics, knowing what meant the most to her. ‘I rode with my men throughout Eiloch earlier today. I have seen the poverty of your clan. They lack supplies to survive this winter.’ She stiffened, and he drove his point in deeper. ‘My family holds enough wealth to provide for every MacKinnon man, woman, and child. It would not be difficult for me to provide for them.’

  He noticed the uneasiness in her demeanour, for she understood exactly what he was saying. ‘But if you refuse to wed me, I have no interest in helping your clan. The land is already mine, by right.’

  ‘You would starve children for your own gain?’ she asked with incredulity.

  ‘No, you would,’ he answered. ‘If you refuse to wed me, you condemn them to death.’ He had no qualms about using whatever weapons were at hand. And Lianna MacKinnon cared a great deal about these people.

  ‘If you have any heart at all, you would provide for those in need,’ she shot back.

  He let his gaze slide over her, remembering her sweet curves and the feeling of her body against his. ‘You will ride with me on the morrow towards Montbrooke. And you will stay with me every night in my tent.’

  ‘My father won’t allow that,’ she said.

  ‘Your father is not travelling with us. He is sending a signed missive granting his permission for the wedding. It has been signed by every man of the clan as witness. Two of his men will accompany us.’

  She paled and drew away from him. ‘I will never wed you.’

  ‘Look at the faces of the MacKinnon children when you say that. Know the choice you are making.’ He reached towards her waist, drawing her close. ‘I don’t even know their names. But I suspect you would care a great deal when we withdraw our support.’

  �
�Why would you want to wed a woman who despises you?’ she demanded. ‘You could choose any other woman in this clan.’

  ‘The arrangement was made years ago,’ he said. He rested his hand upon her nape, and he felt the rise of gooseflesh beneath his palm. Lianna clenched her hands into fists, shoving him back. But he held steady, forcing her to meet his gaze.

  ‘It could be a good marriage, if you would allow it,’ he told her. ‘I was well satisfied this night, and so were you.’ His words were meant as an invisible caress, sliding over her skin. And he saw her face flush before she lowered her gaze.

  With that, he released her and went to the door. ‘We leave at dawn.’

  * * *

  Lianna never touched the food Rhys sent to her, nor did she sleep at all that night. Her bed coverlet was neatly folded across the mattress with not a single crease upon it. She had swept her room until all the dust was gone, and she had paced the floors in her bare feet.

  But she could not undo the mistakes she had made—and because of them, she was bound to the Norman enemy she hated. He had known this would happen when she had tried to seduce him, and he had known that his deception would bring her downfall.

  Dear God, she wished with all her heart that she had felt nothing at all from his touch. If it had been little better than rape, it might allay her guilt. Instead, she despised herself for taking pleasure from him, for it never should have happened. Even the kiss Rhys had stolen upon his departure had reminded her traitorous body of how dangerous he was.

  He held power over her, enough to cast a spell upon her senses and make her feel things she didn’t want to feel.

  His assertion, that her people’s welfare depended on this marriage, evoked such a rage that she nearly trembled with the force of it. He had no right to threaten innocent lives, simply to force her into a union she didn’t want. He had killed her brother. Why would he ever imagine she would agree to join her life with his?

  A quiet knock sounded at the door. Lianna did not answer it, for she had no desire to see anyone. When the door creaked open, she lifted her gaze and saw her father standing there. Alastair’s expression was grave, and there was no doubting the displeasure in his eyes.

  ‘I hope you have your belongings packed,’ he said quietly. ‘You leave within the hour.’

  She remained seated on her bed with her hands folded on her knees. There was nothing she could say to convince him otherwise. Instead, she asked, ‘Why would you send him to me in the guise of a Highlander? You lied to me as much as he did.’

  ‘Because you would not give him a chance,’ her father answered. He entered the room slowly, his pallor sickly. ‘And when I met with him, I saw a man of ruthless strength who will protect us.’ He sank down upon a stool. ‘We need a leader who can guard us from our enemies.’

  ‘Sían would have protected us.’

  But her father shook his head. ‘Your brother was too proud to listen to those wiser than himself. He was too impulsive.’

  ‘You speak of him as though you are glad he’s dead.’ She stared at him in disbelief.

  ‘I grieve his loss, as much as I grieve the mistakes I made with him.’ He sat down, his face lined with sadness. ‘I never intended for him to be chief, and he knew this. But he mistakenly thought that killing Rhys de Laurent would make me proud of him.’ Her father closed his eyes and gripped his fists. ‘Much of our clan’s struggle is due to Sían’s mistakes.’

  His eyes turned upon her with seriousness. ‘And now it will fall to you to correct them.’

  ‘By marrying our enemy.’ She nearly spat the words.

  ‘You already shared his bed,’ her father pointed out. ‘By making that choice, you sealed the bargain. He swore to wed you quickly, so that any child you may have conceived will be born in marriage.’

  ‘I did not know who he was!’ she cried out. ‘I thought it was a means of avoiding the marriage.’

  ‘Then Fate has cast your defiance back on you,’ he answered. ‘You surrendered your virtue, and the consequences are yours to bear. You will travel with him and his men to Montbrooke. I am sending two men with you, to ensure that the betrothal documents are signed and witnessed.’

  ‘But you will not come with us.’ Her anxiety heightened for she would be alone, at the mercy of the Normans.

  He shook his head. ‘I am needed here, to heal the damage your brother has wrought. The people need to be assured that their lives are safe, that the soldiers will not seek vengeance upon them. If you go with de Laurent, your actions will also mean a great deal.’

  But she didn’t believe that at all. The people would undoubtedly be glad to see her gone. Her shoulders lowered, and she tried one last time. ‘Is there nothing that would prevent this marriage? Perhaps we could allow his men to live among us in peace.’

  ‘The land belongs to his father,’ Alastair pointed out. ‘If you do not please him, then he has the right to cast all of us out.’

  She closed her eyes, feeling trapped within this nightmare. It felt as if she had sold her soul to the very devil himself. For a time, she grieved the loss of her freedom and the life she had known. But then she steeled herself and stood. ‘I may have no choice but to wed him, as you have commanded. But I swear to God, I will never obey this man, nor will I let him hold power over me. I will defy him at every turn.’

  A slight noise caught her attention, and she glanced up at the doorway. Rhys de Laurent stood there, dressed in full chainmail armour.

  ‘You may try to defy me,’ he said softly. ‘But you will lose.’

  * * *

  Rhys didn’t trust Lianna not to ride away from him, so he held her in front of him on his own mount. It slowed their pace, but he understood the necessity of guarding her. She had remained silent throughout the first day of riding, though from the slight shifting of her backside, he suspected she was sore.

  And he, too, had experienced his own level of discomfort. The pressure of her bottom against his manhood reminded him of the night she had seduced him. He was aching for this woman, wanting so badly to claim her once again.

  But she held her spine stiff, as if his very touch repulsed her.

  ‘Have you travelled south before?’ he asked, attempting conversation. She said nothing, though he knew she had heard him. He prompted her again, but she maintained the silence.

  With a sigh, he added, ‘Despite what you may think, I am not your enemy, Lianna.’

  At that, she turned her face to glare at him. ‘You became my enemy the moment you cast your blade into my brother’s heart. I have nothing to say to you.’

  He didn’t bother defending himself, for he could do nothing to change the past. In time, she would put it behind her—but not yet.

  She stared ahead at the horizon, her fury palpable. The sun was sinking lower, and Rhys wanted to make camp for the night. Perhaps in the privacy of their tent, he could reason with her.

  He didn’t expect her to desire his touch, and she had good reasons for not wanting to marry him. But there had to be a truce between them, so they could do what was best for her people and for his.

  ‘We will stop for the night soon,’ he told her. ‘My men will hunt and find food, if you will start a fire. Tamhas will stay to guard you.’

  Lianna straightened again. ‘I am not intending to run away, if you think one of my kinsmen must watch over me. I have nowhere to go.’

  ‘My trust in you must be earned.’ He didn’t doubt that she would try to find a means of avoiding him, were it possible.

  Rhys raised a hand to signal his men to stop. There was a stream here for the horses to drink and graze, and the copse of trees would provide shelter from the elements. He helped Lianna dismount and noticed how she tightened her lips at the pain of moving. Not once had she voiced a complaint over their gruelling pace. They had stopped only once during the day, and she had eaten her noon meal
of bread and dried meat quickly before they had continued south again.

  Now she appeared weary, and he noticed her lean against a tree, surreptitiously rubbing at her backside.

  Rhys gave orders for his men to set up the tents and find food. It bothered him to see the horse that had belonged to Ailric. He didn’t want to give such terrible news to the man’s wife, but there was no choice. The man’s death seemed unreal somehow, as if Rhys could blink and see his friend among the others.

  While he gathered firewood, he noticed Lianna doing the same. She made piles of different sizes of twigs and branches, along with another nest of tinder. He brought her heavier logs and set them down. She said nothing, but stacked them neatly, arranging the different branches so that the fire would have adequate air.

  He was about to ask her if she needed help, but she had already gathered flint from her belongings and struck a spark to the tender, blowing the flame to life. Within moments, she had a small fire going, and she fed it carefully, until the logs caught.

  ‘You did well,’ he said.

  ‘I ken how to make a fire. Even a child can do that.’ She continued making adjustments with the fire until at last she stood warming her hands. Her long auburn hair had escaped its braids, and she gave up on it, finger-combing the locks.

  ‘It was a compliment, Lianna, not a criticism.’

  She raised her brown eyes to look at him, and in her expression, he saw raw grief and dismay. It appeared as if she were holding back so many emotions, she could hardly keep herself together. ‘I don’t want you to be nice to me.’

  No, she wouldn’t, would she? She wanted him to be her enemy, for then she could never forgive him for killing Sían. It irritated him that he was trying to make the best of this situation, and she only wanted to blame him for being alive.

  ‘You could try a little harder,’ he warned. ‘But if you don’t want me to be nice, so be it.’ He strode away and joined his men who had just returned with fish and two hares. The two Highlanders who had accompanied Lianna—Tamhas and Donagh—busied themselves by setting up the tents.