To Wed A Wicked Highlander bboth-3

by Victoria Roberts

  He believed he had spoken his vows when he heard his stammering voice, which was nothing but a buzz in his ear. But when Sybella spoke, there was a gentle softness to her words. Her tone was comforting, calming. Or maybe it only sounded that way because he’d barely slept.

  “Ye are now man and wife,” said the priest.

  When everyone clapped and shouted in response to the priest’s words, Aunt Iseabail’s voice could be heard above all others. “Give her a wee kiss and make it a good one, Alexander!”

  He looked directly at Sybella, and they exchanged a subtle expression of amusement. “I cannae disappoint my aunt.”

  Sybella gave him a gentle smile. “Of course ye cannae.”

  Her eyes froze on his lips and he lowered his head. Standing on tiptoe, his wife pressed her lips to his, his hands locking against her back. She was soft and warm, and suddenly he was very conscious of where his wife’s flesh pressed up against his.

  When their kin whooped and hollered, Alex pulled back slightly and gazed into her eyes. Ignoring everyone, he spoke only to her. “Welcome to Glengarry, Lady Sybella MacDonell.”

  Aunt Iseabail rushed to the altar and handed Sybella a tartan sash. “This belonged to Alexander’s wife. Ye should have it.”

  “It was my mother’s,” he said.

  Sybella accepted the sash with gentle kindness. “Thank ye, Aunt Iseabail. ’Tis quite lovely and I shall wear it proudly.” She removed the MacKenzie plaid and draped the MacDonell sash over her dress, fastening the garment with the MacKenzie badge.

  “I also have a gift for you,” said Alex. He handed her a bejeweled dagger. “I thought of ye and had it made.”

  * * *

  “Thank ye, Alexander.”

  Although she was reluctant to admit it, the man looked positively dashing in the MacDonell kilt and plaid. God help her, but his blatant good looks were hard to ignore. When he touched his lips to hers, Sybella felt as though she’d been struck by a bolt of lightning. In truth, she was shocked at her own eager response to his touch.

  “Are ye ready for another feast?” Alexander’s hand came over hers possessively and he smiled.

  “I am, but I am nae sure I can say the same for our kin.” She glanced around the chapel at the tired faces. “It seems they are still recovering from last eve.”

  “There is that,” said Alexander.

  A hand clamped down on Sybella’s shoulder and she jumped.

  “Let me be the first to congratulate ye, Sister. Gu meal sibh ur naidheachd.” Congratulations to both of you.

  “Thank ye, Colin,” she said with a warm smile.

  Sybella stepped around Colin, and her father tugged her close. His lips whispered lightly into her ear as he rubbed her back. “Best wishes, my daughter.”

  “Thank ye, Father.”

  Her father gave a brief nod to Alexander. “Congratulations on your union to my daughter, Laird MacDonell. I am sure ye will find Sybella to be a faithful and obedient wife.”

  Sybella stiffened as Alexander clasped her father’s arm.

  “Let us hope so, for ’tis too late to go back on our agreement now,” said Alexander, a trace of laughter in his voice.

  Her new husband glanced at her for any sign of objection and so did her father. Sybella bit her lower lip before her mood veered sharply to anger. She didn’t think it wise to have heated words with both men on the day of her wedding. When she looked up at Alexander, he gave her a broad wink as if he knew how she felt.

  “Is everything all right, Wife?”

  “Of course…Alexander.” She paused as soon as the word “husband” attempted to escape her lips.

  “’Tis so wonderful to have ye here.” When Sybella turned, Aunt Iseabail brought her hands to Sybella’s cheeks. “I hope ye and my nephew will be verra happy for many years to come.”

  “Thank ye, Aunt Iseabail.”

  The kind woman lowered Sybella’s head and kissed her on the forehead. “’Tis a pity the wedding is over. My husband and I wish we could have spent some time with ye, but we must return home on the morrow.”

  Sybella’s heart sank and she wasn’t sure what to say. She rubbed her hand over the aging woman’s frail shoulder, giving her a compassionate smile. Sybella was relieved that Alexander was by her side, but she watched as his features grew more concerned the more Aunt Iseabail spoke.

  “Dòmhnall, ye have yourself a bonny new bride, and I am looking forward to plenty of bairns under this roof. More than one, I tell ye—and they donna need to be all lads. I donna think my poor heart can handle it.” She raised her hand over her chest and laughed.

  His gaze was filled with sympathy. “I am Alexander.”

  Aunt Iseabail waved him off. “Of course ye are. Ye remind me so much of your father.”

  “Will ye be sitting with William for the meal?” Alexander asked, his tone holding a degree of warmth and concern.

  Sybella saw William and gestured him forward. “William, Aunt Iseabail will sit with ye for the meal.”

  “It would be my pleasure to enjoy such company again.” William held out his arm to Aunt Iseabail, his smile courteous. “What other tales do ye have for me, Lady Iseabail?” Alexander’s delightful aunt rewarded William with a large smile of her own.

  Alexander escorted Sybella to the great hall, accepting felicitations along the way. Once again, she took her place beside him on the dais and watched men and women flow into the hall for the celebration. She couldn’t help but glance at him and notice the worried expression on his face. She sensed his disquiet, and frankly, the feeling of hopelessness was all too familiar. Watching the health of loved ones fade was by no means an easy feat.

  “Does Aunt Iseabail lose her thoughts often?” asked Sybella in a soft tone.

  Alexander had opened his mouth to reply when her father raised his tankard and spoke in an impressive voice. “May you travel in the truth on straight paths—be moderate and civil and never abandon reason; may your race be numerous throughout the land. And may you see your great-grandchildren following in your footsteps.”

  Cheers were shouted out in response to the marital blessing.

  Alexander took a drink from his tankard and then looked directly at Sybella. When he realized she was still waiting for an answer to her question, he sighed. “More often than I would like. Ever since my father passed, her mind has worsened.”

  Sybella looked around at the celebratory crowd and began to speak as memories flooded her. “I cared for my ailing mother and barely left her side. This was the same woman who raised me and loved me from the time I was a bairn. When her days were good, they were verra good. When they were bad…”

  When he raised his brow, she added, “I think ’tis harder on us to watch their health fail. Aunt Iseabail may call ye by your father’s name and forget the reason for the celebration, but ye still have her. Other than her mind, she seems hale. I know it pains us greatly to see our loved ones nae as they once were, but in truth, ’tis truly a blessing they are still with us. Donna mourn for the past, Alexander. We should be grateful for the time we have left with them—now, in the present.”

  Angus and Mary approached the table and Sybella was irked by the intrusion. “Congratulations again, Cousin,” said Angus, giving Sybella a slight bow. “Mary and I are verra joyful for you both.” Mary stood silently by Angus’s side—ever the dutiful wife.

  “Thank ye.”

  Angus stretched his arm around Mary’s waist. “We shall be taking our leave on the morrow and thank ye for the hospitality, Laird MacDonell. Colin and I are looking forward to getting back to some hunting.”

  Sybella tried to stay the pang of regret that washed over her when she remembered all of the things she would miss with her brother. It was almost as if Angus had intentionally rubbed salt on an open wound, a subtle reminder that she was no longer a part of the MacKenzies.

  Alexander leaned forward in his chair. “Are ye both skilled with a bow?”

  “I am more accomplished th
an Colin,” said Angus. “It doesnae take too much to best my cousin at anything.”

  When Angus gave Mary a conspiratorial poke in the ribs with his elbow, Sybella’s instinctive response was to reach over the table and throttle her witless cousin. Granted, Colin was not adept with a bow, but Angus had no right to tell that to a MacDonell. Although it was difficult, she willfully restrained her tongue, lest there be bloodshed on the day of her wedding—caused by her own hand.

  As a peaceful alternative, Sybella shifted in the seat toward Alexander, clearly dismissing her vexing cousins. “My laird, pray excuse me for a moment.” She rose from her chair and walked to her brother’s table without a backward glance.

  * * *

  “Ye must forgive my cousin. She doesnae yet know her place,” said Angus. The MacKenzie man spoke as if he and Alex were longtime friends.

  Alex sat back casually in the chair and tapped on the rim of his tankard. “And what place might that be?”

  Angus and Mary exchanged a glance full of secret meaning, and then Angus bent his head slightly forward. “If I may speak freely…”

  Alex raised his brow and waved his hand. “By all means. I would expect naught less.”

  “’Tis nay great secret that my cousin needs lessons in matters of comportment. Ye see…Sybella cared for my aunt for two years, locked up within the stone walls of the castle. ’Tisnae my cousin’s fault, mind ye, but the only companionship to be had was that of her ailing mother and the woman’s soiled linens.”

  Angus scrunched up his features in disgust. “That is part of the reason why my cousin is such a spirited lass. In my humble opinion, her father and brother give her far too much leave. But I am sure in time Sybella will come to understand your rules. She only needs a firm hand.” Angus gave Alex a conspiratorial wink.

  Alex sat very still, his eyes narrow. “Let me tell ye what I think. The lass watched her mother die, and there was naught my wife could have done but offer her mother comfort—whether by changing her linens or holding her hand. And with ye as my wife’s cousin, nay wonder she stayed within the walls of her mother’s chamber. I donna share your views, and ye will keep them to yourself under my roof. The woman ye speak of is my wife. Do ye understand?”

  Angus was puzzled by Alex’s stern attitude, but Alex didn’t care. How typical that they would judge Sybella’s behavior when they had absolutely no idea what circumstances molded the lass. Having had a similar situation with his father, Alex was sympathetic toward her plight.

  Clearly dismissing Sybella’s annoying kin, he stood. He had no patience for daft people. He approached Sybella, who still remained at her brother’s table, and she stiffened when Alex touched her waist. “Pray excuse me while I steal my bride for a moment,” he said to Colin. The lass looked startled by the intrusion.

  Colin smiled and gave Alex a brief nod. “We will speak later, Sybella.”

  “Come. I have something to show ye.”

  “Should I be worried?” she asked, raising her brow.

  Alex didn’t answer as they walked silently through the bustling halls of Glengarry. When they reached the parapet door, he swung it open and gestured her through. “After ye.”

  He followed her swaying hips up the stone staircase and only needed a few seconds to realize that his attempts not to be an arse were not working. When she stepped out onto the parapet, she came to a dead stop. For a moment, the lass forgot to move and let him through the door. He reached out and touched her waist as a gentle reminder.

  Sybella moved hastily to the side. “My apologies. ’Tis beautiful.”

  The day had turned cloudy, and the sun’s rays peeked sporadically through the clouds in the blue-gray sky. Mossy-green grass surrounded the loch, and the water glimmered with the reflective light of amber hues. This was the view that Alex treasured and often sought.

  “I thought ye might be in need of a respite from the celebration.”

  “Ye thought that right. ’Tis truly breathtaking.”

  “Aye, the view is verra bonny as well.”

  Sybella rolled her eyes and smirked. “How long did it take ye to think up that one? I bet ye say that to all the lasses.”

  “Only a few.”

  When she ignored him, Alex thought to try again. He reached out, swinging her around to face him. “I know this must nae be easy for ye, Sybella. Our clans have been battling for so long that everyone has come to expect it. I am comforted by the thought that the warring will cease with our marriage. There has been too much bloodshed. I am probably the last man ye would want for a husband, but I will be a good one nonetheless. I will protect and care for ye as long as ye stand by my side. In return, my only request is that ye are truthful and stay true to your vows. I donna want a marriage filled with lies and distrust. And I offer ye the same courtesy.”

  A strange look flashed in her eyes, and she gently tugged away from him. She spoke as she stared out at the loch. “Then ye will nae mind me saying that your kiss wasnae appreciated.”

  “My kiss?” Alex hesitated, puzzled. Then as if he were knocked on the head, he realized she was talking about that first kiss by the waterfall, and he chuckled in response.

  “Ye know damn…” Clearing her throat, she added, “darn well what I am speaking of, Alexander MacDonell. How dare ye threaten to call a warning if I didnae kiss ye?”

  “Now, lass, if ye remember correctly, I did give ye a choice.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Some choice,” she said dryly. “Kiss ye or ye’d call your father’s men. What kind of choice was that?”

  “When ye and your brother decided to encroach on our lands, ye gave me verra little choice. And besides, it doesnae matter. Ye are now my wife, Lady MacDonell.”

  His expression stilled and grew serious.

  Licking her lips nervously, Sybella turned her head promptly away from him and remained still.

  Alex moved even closer until he left her no room at all.

  * * *

  Sybella swallowed hard and squared her shoulders. Alexander’s fingers took her arm with gentle authority, and he turned her to face him. Briefly closing her eyes, she felt his hand brush the hair back from her neck. His hand remained on her shoulder for a moment too long.

  She noticed he was watching her intently, his nearness overwhelming. At the base of her throat, a pulse beat and swelled as though her heart had risen from its usual place.

  He lowered his head, and his kiss was surprisingly gentle. The touch of his lips was a delicious sensation. He planted a tantalizing kiss in the hollow of her neck, and she felt her knees weaken.

  His lips recaptured hers, more demanding this time. He forced open her mouth with his thrusting tongue and she savored every moment. Her thoughts spun, her emotions whirled and skidded, and her body arched toward him instinctively.

  She was shocked at the impact of his gentle grip. Her response to him was so powerful that for a long moment, she felt as if she were floating.

  He slowly pulled back, and something unexplainable passed between them. She had to admit that she was strangely flattered by his interest.

  “Wife, ’tis still too early to seek our marriage bed. We must return to the celebration.” His voice was low and alluring.

  An unwelcome blush crept onto Sybella’s cheeks as she tried to swallow the lump that lingered in her throat. She was humiliatingly conscious of her husband’s scrutiny. She was perfectly aware that she needed to gain his trust, but surely Alexander must think his new wife some type of harlot for kissing him so wantonly in broad daylight.

  She was an idiot.

  Six

  Sybella donned her nightrail and sat in the chair in her bedchamber. Should she be sitting? Maybe she should be standing. She rose and started to pace. Perhaps she should be still. She folded her hands together and then crossed her arms over her chest. What was she supposed to be doing? She felt like a daft fool. When Alexander did not walk through the adjoining door, she sat down on the bed. She sure wasn’t going to appear
as though she was waiting for the man to grace her with his presence.

  When her husband finally walked through the door, he was dressed in his tunic and kilt. His warm eyes were full of something she could not quite identify, and although what he expected was not clear, there was something captivating in his look. Since Alexander still wore his clothes, maybe he had decided not to consummate the marriage this eve. If that was true, Sybella felt completely underdressed for the occasion.

  He placed a tankard down on the bedside table. “Wife.”

  “Alexander.”

  His gaze lowered, as did his voice. “Ye have yet to call me husband or Alex.”

  “We barely know one another,” she said quietly.

  “Now that simply isnae true. We have known each other since the day at the waterfall.” His tone was laced with subtle amusement.

  Her mouth dropped open. “The waterfall? We hardly spoke.”

  He gave her a roguish grin and Sybella cast her eyes downward. All too quickly, she had run out of diversions. How much longer could she postpone the inevitable? She tried to force her confused emotions into order and couldn’t stand the unwelcome tension. Praise the saints. There was no sense worrying about what could not be changed. One way or another, after tonight, she would no longer be an innocent woman.

  She took a deep breath and consciously masked her inner turmoil with deceptive calmness. But when the silence began to grate on her nerves, she decided to address the subject head on.

  “Is there something we need to do first?” She waved her hand in a nervous gesture.

  Alexander was momentarily speechless in his surprise. “I was going to speak with ye and offer ye a wee bit of ale, but if ye wish to have me in your bed…” When his eyes darkened with an unreadable emotion, Sybella flopped back onto the bed and adjusted her pillow.

  “I am nervous enough. This prolonged torture doesnae benefit anyone. Can ye please do what ye need to do?” She bit her lip in a nervous gesture.