Forbidden Night with the Highlander

by Michelle Willingham

  But Lianna only shook her head and went to the door, opening it for Rhys’s sister.

  The young woman appeared hurt by the gesture, and she sobered. ‘You don’t want my help, then?’

  Lianna shook her head. It was cruel, she knew, but if she was around Joan any longer, she would crumble into pieces. She could remain strong in the face of adversity and strangers, but she was afraid of forming a friendship.

  Rhys’s sister sighed and obeyed. ‘If you need anything, I would be glad to help you.’

  Lianna went to the door and held it open, feeling like a terrible person. Joan was trying to be friendly, and she was pushing her away.

  But she could not help but think it was better for the woman not to like her. If all went to plan, Lianna would never return to England again.

  * * *

  Rhys found his bride on her knees, scrubbing along the edge of the room. Everything within the chamber had been put to rights, and his bride had clearly not spent any time preparing herself to meet his father. The tub of water had gone cold, and two silk gowns were laid out upon the bed.

  Lianna had tied her hair up with a veil, and he grew distracted by the sight of her bottom as she moved along the edge of the floor.

  ‘We do have servants, you know.’ He closed the door behind him, giving them privacy.

  He knew any orders he gave would be ignored, so he went over to Lianna and stood in front of the area she was scrubbing.

  ‘What are you doing, Rhys?’

  ‘I came to bring you to meet my father. But I see you are not ready yet.’

  ‘I’ll never be ready,’ she muttered. But she did fold the wet cloth into precise, neat corners.

  ‘Did any of the gowns fit?’ He knew Joan had tried to find several choices, taking many from her own wardrobe.

  ‘I wouldn’t know. I didn’t try them on.’

  And there came the stubborn glint in her eyes. His sister had warned him that Lianna had been crying, and he could see it in her reddened eyes.

  ‘Are you too afraid to meet my family?’ It was a barbed dare, one he hoped she would seize.

  ‘I’m not afraid,’ she shot back. And there was the glimmer of temper he needed to see. It was easier to bring back her anger than to let her hide herself away.

  ‘Good. Then you should bathe and dress yourself.’ He pulled up a chair and sat. ‘I’ll wait for you.’

  Just as he’d predicted, she glared at him. ‘You will not stay here, de Laurent.’

  ‘I could wash your back,’ he offered, beginning to enjoy himself. ‘You might not be able to reach it. Or perhaps I could hand you the soap.’

  She strode towards the door and flung it open. ‘Out.’

  He remained seated where he was. ‘You’re going to attract the attention of the servants if you keep the door open.’

  Her face was flushed, but she closed it and went to stand before him. ‘I will go nowhere until you leave this chamber.’

  Rhys slid his hands around her waist, then stood. Lianna put her hands on his chest, meaning to shove him away, but he held her fast with one arm. He unfastened the brooch at her shoulder, releasing the brat she wore. The voluminous wool sank to the ground, leaving her clad in a simple léine with narrow sleeves.

  ‘Leave me alone,’ she gritted out. ‘I don’t need your help.’

  ‘I disagree. You sent away my sister and you’ve refused everyone else. It seems that you do need my assistance.’ Despite her struggles, he unlaced the léine, until it fell forward, baring her shoulders.

  ‘Rhys, no,’ she protested.

  The sight of her creamy skin ignited his desire, but he resisted the urge to kiss the slope of her neck. ‘You have two choices, Lianna. Either you will undress and get into the tub of water. Or I will undress you and put you there.’

  She glared at him. ‘I do not need your help.’ There was a trace of fear in her voice, as if she believed he intended to hurt her—which was not at all true.

  ‘I only want you to come below stairs to meet my family, dressed properly.’ He waited a moment and then asked, ‘What is your decision?’

  ‘My decision is for you to leave. Go and dine with your family and pretend I am not here.’

  ‘So you can clean other rooms in the castle?’ He understood it was her way of occupying her time, but he could not have her behaving like a servant. Why did she insist on trying to hide herself away? Was she afraid of his family?

  ‘What I do is my own concern, de Laurent.’

  ‘No. Your choices reflect on both of us. And I cannot have you avoiding my father and stepmother.’ He kept one arm around her waist and he slid his fingers beneath the loosened léine. When his palm touched bare skin, she flinched.

  And suddenly, the atmosphere shifted between them. Lianna ceased her struggles, and her brown eyes met his. Her breathing seemed to deepen, and when he caressed her shoulder, she froze.

  ‘Don’t do this,’ she murmured.

  But there was a different tone to her voice, one he didn’t recognise. And though he had his suspicions, he wanted to know for certain.

  ‘I said before that we need not be enemies, Lianna.’ He drew his mouth to the upper curve of her neck. Her hands moved to his shoulders, but she did not push him away.

  Rhys drew her gown lower and it trapped her arms within the narrow sleeves. He kissed the rounded curve of her breasts, and she gave a sharp intake of breath. He freed her red hair from the veil, letting it spill down her back like a curtain of silk.

  Her breathing was unsteady, and his own desire was raging for her. But he knew that if he demanded too much from her, she would only despise him. It was a delicate balance, and he knew he had pressed her to the edge.

  He edged the fabric a little lower, exposing her nipple.

  ‘Rhys,’ she pleaded, but he moved his mouth towards it. When he slid his tongue across the erect tip, she could not stop the moan that broke free.

  He kept her in his arms, but no longer was she fighting him. Instead, she leaned her head back, welcoming his touch. And he rewarded her by tasting the opposite nipple, laving it until the nub was sweetly hard.

  God above, he wanted this woman. His body was an iron ridge of desire, craving the feel of her wet folds surrounding him. But Rhys forced himself to step back. ‘Get into the water, Lianna.’

  She was trembling, but turned her back and removed the léine. The sight of her bare back and rounded bottom nearly undid him. But she stepped into the water, covering herself as she did.

  ‘I will send a maid to help you,’ he gritted out. ‘And I expect to see you at the meal tonight.’

  With that, he strode away from her.

  * * *

  Lianna had never felt like such an outsider in all her life. With the help of the maid, she had bathed and dressed. She had chosen a sapphire blue gown, and the maid had woven ribbons into her braids. From the startled smiles on the faces of the guests, she knew her appearance was acceptable.

  But the moment she saw Rhys, her breath caught again. She hadn’t forgotten the shocking warmth of his mouth upon her bare skin or the way he tempted her. He had caught her unawares, and she didn’t know what to think of this man. He had forced her to wear Norman clothing, and now, he came to take her hand. It was time for her to be formally presented to Edward de Laurent, Lord of Montbrooke, and his wife, Rowena.

  From the moment she’d laid eyes upon the earl and his third wife, an icy chill had suffused her body. She wanted to flee at this very moment, but Rhys leaned in. ‘All will be well, Lianna.’

  His warm breath made a shudder pass over her body. She bit her lip, reminding herself that she could not forgive him for his lies or for killing Sían. They were enemies, and she had to use every weapon at her disposal. For now, she would shut him out, shielding herself from the desires of her body.

 
; When he presented her to Lord and Lady Montbrooke, Lianna curtsied. The earl reminded her of a falcon, with shrewd eyes. He would not hesitate to shred his victims, and she forced herself to stand upright.

  ‘My lord father, I present Lianna MacKinnon, my promised bride,’ Rhys said.

  The earl stared at her, his eyes a bold blue. His hair was dark with flecks of grey, and Lianna felt rather like a prize of war. ‘She will do.’

  In Gaelic, Lianna responded, ‘I care not what you think of me. I am only here because my father commanded it.’ With a warm smile, she made her words sound like an appropriate response. What did it matter what she said to this man? He would not understand.

  Rhys squeezed her hand tightly in warning. ‘She is glad to meet you, Father.’

  Lianna straightened, keeping the smile fixed upon her face. A silent exchange moved between the earl and Rhys, and then the earl responded, ‘As am I.’

  To her horror, he then switched into Gaelic. ‘And I am glad to see that my son will wed a woman with a backbone.’

  Lianna felt her cheeks catch fire. Why had she dared to address the earl in such a defiant way? She had mistakenly believed the man could speak only the Norman tongue. She was such a fool.

  Rhys led her to an honoured place at the dais, and Lianna rather wished he could have escorted her outside so she could hide in the shadows. ‘I deserved that.’

  ‘Where do you think I learned Gaelic?’ he responded. ‘My grandmother taught Edward, and then she taught me.’

  She wanted to bury her face in her hands for letting her tongue get away from her. ‘Well, what’s done is done.’

  ‘It is. And on the morrow, our guests will arrive. Harold de Beaufort is a friend of my father’s, and he will bring his wife and two daughters.’ Rhys offered her a choice piece of capon, which she accepted, though in truth, she did not feel like eating.

  ‘You look beautiful in that gown,’ he said in a low voice.

  ‘I had no choice but to wear it.’ Her cheeks flamed at his compliment, for it only evoked memories of him kissing her. She bit her lip to cast away the idle thoughts and toyed with the food before her. ‘Why must I wear the clothing of your women instead of my own? You’re only going to take me back to Scotland and leave me there.’

  He said nothing, and she waited for him to argue, claiming that he had duties to fulfil. But Rhys’s silence only raised Lianna’s suspicions. ‘Rhys, you are taking me home again, aren’t you?’

  He met her gaze. ‘I have not decided yet. There are times when your presence will be needed here.’

  Panic boiled inside her. ‘You cannot take me from my home. You’ve already taken away my freedom, what I wear, what I eat—’ She stood up from her place, ready to flee his presence.

  ‘Sit down,’ he commanded. ‘This is not the time, nor the place to discuss it.’

  Although she obeyed, she made no effort to hide her fury. Instead, she mustered a thin smile and said, ‘You say you do not wish to be enemies. But you’ve stolen the life I had, leaving me with nothing. Not even my brother. Why would I ever want to befriend you?’

  He reached out to touch her hand, but she snatched it away. ‘I may hold no power of my own in this marriage. But I swear by God above, that I will never surrender my heart, my body, or my feelings. That much, you will never have.’ Inside, she was trembling with the force of her anger. She had obeyed her father to prevent war and to protect her people. But if this man believed she would marry him and leave her beloved Scotland, he was gravely mistaken.

  Lianna pushed her plate aside, disinterested in food. One of the Norman soldiers who had travelled with them caught her gaze at a lower table. He offered a sympathetic smile of friendship, but it did nothing to lift her spirits.

  ‘You are right, Lianna. I did take your freedom, giving nothing in return.’ She turned back to face Rhys and saw sincerity in his dark blue eyes. He nodded towards the crowd of people. ‘But you are not the only one with obligations to your people. When my father dies, I am the heir to Montbrooke. I cannot leave my wife alone in Scotland.’

  She distracted herself with a sip of wine. The fermented drink made her dizzy, and she forced herself to take a bit of meat.

  ‘But I do not have a heart of stone,’ Rhys continued. ‘There is something I can do to ease all the changes that have happened.’ His expression turned pensive, and he ventured, ‘Is it your wish to be wedded in Scotland?’

  She could not imagine being married anywhere else. Here, she was surrounded by strangers who could not speak her language, and she had to follow their customs. At home, at least, she had the safe familiarity of a place she had known all her life. ‘Yes. I would rather be married at Eiloch than anywhere else.’

  ‘Then I shall arrange it,’ he promised. ‘But in return, I ask that you fulfil the obligations of our betrothal and try to behave as if this marriage will be a good union,’ Rhys said quietly. ‘Play the part I ask of you, and I swear, I will take you back to Scotland to be married among your own people.’

  She stilled at that, not knowing whether to believe him. He might well be lying, as he had done before.

  ‘During the betrothal, I want you to demand it of your father,’ she countered. ‘When he grants his permission, then I will know that you speak the truth.’

  Rhys nodded. ‘So be it.’

  * * *

  During the next few weeks, Rhys noticed that Lianna had veiled all her emotions. She did not appear angry any longer, which was an improvement, but the sadness in her eyes was impossible not to see. It seemed as if she were a captive with invisible chains, and he didn’t know how to make this any easier for her. Whenever he tried to speak to her, she answered in single words or hardly at all. No longer was there any hope that her animosity would thaw.

  But there was no choice for either of them. This wedding would happen, regardless.

  He didn’t doubt that his father would forbid his request to hold the ceremony in Scotland. Edward de Laurent would want everyone to witness the union. But Rhys knew that there were ways to convince the man that it was his idea and thereby change his mind.

  Dozens of guests had arrived to witness the betrothal, and Rhys had noticed that his younger brother was fascinated by the maiden, Rosamund de Beaufort. For the first time, Warrick appeared utterly bewitched, and Rhys found himself wanting to help his brother. Rosamund was a beautiful heiress, and if anyone deserved to find happiness, it was Warrick.

  This morn, Rosamund was sitting upon the stairs overlooking the training grounds. Though she had brought sewing with her, she sneaked gazes at Warrick when she thought he wasn’t looking.

  Rhys approached his brother, who was gaping at the woman. Warrick wore chainmail armour, and he looked as if he’d come to spar. ‘Are you wanting her to watch, Brother?’

  Warrick turned around, his expression frowning as if he didn’t understand. Rhys smiled, knowing what it was to desire the interest of a young woman. And there was a way he could help.

  ‘It matters not if she is there,’ his brother answered.

  Warrick wasn’t about to admit his interest, though anyone with eyes could see it. ‘I’ve seen the way you stare at her,’ Rhys countered, handing him a quarterstaff. ‘Spar with me a moment. I’ll make you look good.’

  But his brother shook his head. ‘Her father would be furious if he saw her here. It’s dangerous with so many men about.’

  ‘That is her risk to take. And she does want to watch you.’ Rhys grinned, enjoying this chance to embarrass his younger brother. ‘I think we should show her more.’

  The confused expression on Warrick’s face amused Rhys. He was intending to fight his younger brother, giving him a chance to impress the young woman. But then he caught a glimpse of Lianna standing at the window from one of the towers. Her long wavy red hair was unmistakable, and he guessed that she had been combing it when
she heard their voices. He expected her to turn away, but instead, she studied them.

  In her posture, he saw a frightened woman who had closed herself off from everyone. And though she had shown no interest in him whatsoever, he decided to try another means of getting her attention.

  Rhys stripped away his chainmail hauberk and tunic, until he stood bare-chested. To Warrick, he said, ‘If she’s going to look, shouldn’t you give her something to look at?’ He gazed up at his bride, who was indeed watching.

  Would Lianna ever look upon him with anything but hatred? No longer was he certain. And the prospect of years of this cool behaviour was not a welcome thought.

  He distracted himself by helping Warrick with his hauberk. ‘I’ll wager her gaze is upon you this very moment.’

  But he wasn’t talking about Rosamund de Beaufort. No, he was thinking of the auburn-haired beauty who was watching him from the tower.

  ‘This is foolish,’ his brother insisted. There was a slight discomfort reflected in his face as if he didn’t want Rosamund to see him in this way.

  ‘Not for quarterstaffs,’ Rhys argued. ‘You don’t need heavy armour.’

  His brother hesitated, but then stripped to his waist. And the moment he did, Rosamund eyed him openly before her lips curved in a secret smile.

  His brother gaped at her as if he’d forgotten how to fight. And it was time to change that.

  Rhys lunged at him, and his brother deflected the blow with the quarterstaff. He showed no mercy to Warrick, for truthfully he wanted Lianna to see his strength.

  You may despise me, but I am a warrior. He struck hard, using speed and strength to show her the sort of man he was.

  His brother dodged a blow and found a weakness, striking Rhys hard in the ribs. He grunted from the blow and retaliated by aiming the quarterstaff at his brother’s knees.

  Warrick jumped out of the way, but Rhys used the young man’s lack of balance to knock him to the ground. He glanced up to see if Lianna approved, but Warrick rolled away and caught him across the ankles, tripping him. His brother eyed him with suspicion. ‘I thought you were going to make me look good.’