The Pirate Laird's Hostage (The Highland Warlord Series Book 3)

by Tessa Murran

  ‘I do care about you, Will, though you don’t deserve it, but not nearly as much as I care about my brother.’

  Will’s smile faded. ‘What do you mean?’ he said lightly.

  Morna bit her lip and took a step back. She was fearful. Why?

  ‘I told Cormac what he needed to hear to make him leave, to stop him and my clansmen and all the people in this keep from throwing their lives away because of your stubbornness. I am so tired of men butchering each other, so I lied, to avoid bloodshed, and it worked, didn’t it? Cormac is content, thinking that I love you and that we are to be wed, it is enough for him and I am now reconciled to my fate.’

  ‘Your fate?’

  ‘Will, you can’t honestly believe that I love you or want to wed you.’

  Will’s soaring anticipation crashed brutally to earth. Morna could not have hurt him more if she had driven a nail into his heart. He wanted to rage at her, to beat her into taking back such cruel words. He wanted to shake her until her ears bled, until he could force her to want him, but he let none of his anger show on his face. Instead, he laughed.

  ‘Good, so we are of one mind. I didn’t for one moment fall for all that false affection. I was merely going along with the pretence. It seemed the polite thing to do to get Cormac off my land and get what I want. In fact, I am amazed your brother swallowed the lie. As to the marriage, well, I no more want a wife than Cormac wants me to be part of his family.’

  Morna’s face froze in shock.

  ‘Didn’t expect that, did you?’ he thought.

  ‘What do you mean, get what you want?’ she said, frowning.

  ‘I needed a way to gain the King’s ear, and I needed an alliance with one of the powerful clans in the Highlands. Marriage to a Buchanan will secure me that. Once we are wed, I will send word, and Cormac will consider me his ally. Anyone Cormac trusts, King Robert also trusts.’

  ‘Why would you want to get close to the King? You hate him.’

  ‘I do, but the Bains cannot stand alone against him if he wins this war. I will wait and see which way the wind is blowing before I jump for any side. This way, I am perfectly poised to go either way. When Cormac arrived at the gates of my keep, I saw a chance, and I have taken it. That is why I didn’t hand you back.’

  ‘Did you plan this from the start? Did you use me just to forge an alliance with the King?’

  ‘The Bruce could win this war. If I am not on the right side of it when he does, my clan and I are doomed. He will come for us and burn us out like a nest of rats. So yes, an alliance is, for us, survival, and there is nothing I won’t do to survive in this world.’

  ‘Are you even going to marry me?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet. I don’t think I need a wife. Women are tiresome, feeble creatures who lean on a man until they break him. You would be a hen, clucking in my ear, driving me mad.

  ‘So, you made another bargain you do not intend to honour.’

  ‘Why would I want a wife to drag through life, weighing me down like an anchor?’

  ‘Your word means nothing, does it Will?’

  ‘We’ll see, shall we? If you keep up your end of the bargain and warm my bed this night, then I will keep up mine, my love. Bear in mind, I can still catch up with Cormac and his men, or set sail and sink his ships on open water.’

  ‘You wouldn’t.’

  ‘Go on, try me,’ he spat.

  ‘Your pride is hurt because I said I do not love you.’

  ‘Then why did you lie to your brother? Why not just let him slaughter me so that you could go home?

  ‘You saved my life, so I owed you yours, and your men’s as well.’

  ‘I think you protest your reluctance a little too much, my sweet. I think you really want to know what lies beyond what I did with my tongue that night, and I think you like me, more than you can ever admit.’

  ‘I suffer you, Will, that is all, so drive all thoughts of anything else out of your swelled head and leave me to endure my imprisonment in peace.’

  ‘Play the martyr if you want, but if you sup at my table and live under my protection, then there is a price to be paid, girl.’

  ‘I owe you a wedding that is all. If you want more you will have to take it from me, by force, I will never give it, and if you do, once you have had what you want, I will find a way to kill you for it.’

  ‘We’ll see about that.’ He grabbed her by the arm and hauled her to the edge of the battlements.

  ‘It’s a long way down, and death will be instant. So Morna, jump if you want to – if being my woman is so awful a prospect, then I’ll not stop you. But hear me. If you don’t jump, then you belong to me. You made your choice. You might not have wanted to, but you did. So now you are mine, I have rights over you, and I mean to put my mark on you. Be ready to be wedded and bedded by nightfall.

  ‘Get off of me,’ she hissed. ‘You have played me false. I will not marry for an alliance.’

  ‘That is the purpose of marriage. I turned a bad situation to my advantage. I did what needed to be done. Don’t be naive. Remember it was your idea to profess undying love for me, which I am sure you have now come to regret. Did you expect loving words and longing looks, a tame dog of a man who would run at your heels and do your bidding? Did you expect me to wed you and not get anything out of it?’

  ‘I expected better than a cowardly liar. I will go along with this awful plan for the sake of an alliance, but I’ll never be your woman, and I’ll never lie with you. If you want to indulge your lust, go and seek out Edana Bain, wherever she may be.’

  Ah, she had exposed herself. There was a world of jealousy in her voice when she spoke Edana’s name.

  ‘I will return later, Morna. Make yourself pretty, for it is your wedding day after all.’

  ‘You are exactly what I always thought you were – nothing but a villain and a thief.’

  ‘Aye, and I am not planning on stopping any time soon.’

  ‘I was beginning to trust you, Will, to like you, even…’

  ‘What Morna? Love me? Impossible, for you can only have feelings for dull, honourable men you claim to not want.’

  ‘I don’t want honourable, I want honest – at least between us two. I thought you could at least give me that. How disappointing to find out you are no better than I first thought.’

  ‘You talk of honesty, and yet you lie and lie, first to your brother, then to me and worst of all to yourself. There is something between us, no matter how hard you try to deny it. It seems you have no idea what you want, woman, so let me tell you what you will get. Me, as a husband, a lover, as father to your children. You will get your duty to this clan and its people. You will serve me, as they do, and you will give me an alliance to keep this place safe from the Bruce.’

  He looked back at her and almost gave in to pity. She had been kidnapped and abused, held prisoner, her brother was now gone, and she was forced to wed him tonight and begin a new life in a castle full of strangers a long way from home. Why must he continue torturing this girl, being angry at her, when all he had inside was longing, affection, admiration and tenderness? Why could he not let it show?

  Old wounds may have healed, but the scars were still there, still paining him. There was Edana’s treachery, forcing him to plunge his sword into his uncle’s heart. Worse still, there was the memory of burying his father with his own bare hands and of fighting for his country at Bannockburn, only to be rewarded with the cold kiss of a Scot’s axe against his neck for his trouble. The memories flashed through his mind like scabs being peeled off, as painful as when first inflicted.

  Will narrowed his eyes at Morna and gave her the only ounce of kindness he could muster amid his raging disappointment.

  ‘I will give you one wedding gift, and it is this - I will not demand that you consummate our marriage this eve.’

  ‘So, when? Tell me, so that I do not have to live my life dreading it,’ she hissed.

  ‘When I’ve a mind to, and only if you ask
me nicely,’ he said, turning and walking away.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Morna sat on the bed with her knees pulled up and her arms around them for comfort. How many days had he been gone now, ten? It felt like more. Oh, the frustration was overwhelming.

  Will had gone to sea almost as soon as the wedding was done with if it could be called that. A hasty ordeal presided over by a scabrous, old priest who smelt of drink, and with only Waldrick and Braya to bear witness. It was all done in haste and with bad temper on both sides. It was not the wedding day young girls dream of, but then Morna had never considered marriage to be the achievement of her life, more the ending of it, so she did not mourn her chance to shine and play the blushing bride. Much good it would have done her, for Will had barely looked at her as he said his words, pledging, no doubt insincerely, that he would comfort and cherish her always. What a liar he was, but then so was she, and the priest, sensing the tension, had hastened through the ceremony and then told them to seal their union with a kiss.

  ‘Unholy union that it is,’ snarled Will at the poor man, before taking her face between his rough hands and kissing her, far too long for decency, until Waldrick started to cough discreetly to put an end to it. Morna knew he was only faking his ardour to annoy her, but she wondered why she had not wanted him to stop. The priest, fearing he was presiding over a forced marriage, had scurried away as quickly as possible afterwards, followed by the others. She had been left standing with her new husband, suddenly tongue-tied and unsure of herself, a feeling that was new and not at all pleasant. It had brought tears to her eyes for some foolish reason, and all he had said was, ‘It is done now, Morna. We must both try and make the best of it,’ and then turned and walked away.

  These last days, alone, she had tried to reconcile herself to becoming a Bain. It was not all bad. Cormac was safe, for now at least, and so were the people at Fitheach. If she was to become a less selfish person, this was a good way to start. Her new husband was indeed a sight to behold. Will was far more handsome than many men who had shown an interest in her, strapping and delicious in a brutish sort of way. He had a manner about him that was appealing when he was not goading or teasing her in that bitter way of his. Though a part of her craved his good opinion, she determined not to soften towards Will. After all, he’d married her for an alliance, and she did have her pride.

  But Morna had to admit that sometimes she felt sad for all Will had suffered, particularly his mutilated hand, for the humiliation on his face when she recoiled from it had been clear. Will had been wrenched out his childhood early in life and, with his family gone, he had no one in the world who truly cared for him. But the other side of that coin was that he seemed to care for no one in return. People were to be used, especially women. She could want his hard body pressed to hers all she might, but that did not mean he cared a jot for her or concerned himself with what she wanted. A repeat of that night spent in his chamber writhing around under his tongue would be welcome, but he did not seem to want it, and it tortured her that he had abandoned her so easily. It was all too confusing. Perhaps Will was right - she had no idea what she really wanted.

  A bell ringing had her upright and running to the window at once. Morna peered out to sea and smiled. A billowing sail was visible on the horizon. Will was home, so life was about to get interesting again. Nervous and excited, giddy and feeling a little foolish, Morna determined to show she was none of these things and waiting patiently on her bed for Will to come to her.

  Hours passed, and he did not.

  With most of the day gone, Morna went in search of him, a search which took her down to his ship where it swayed and creaked in its berth. Will was leaning against the mast, cutting an apple with his knife and watching her approach with an amused look on his face.

  ‘Ah, my loving wife, come to welcome me home.’

  ‘You did not see fit to come and see me, so I must come to you.’

  ‘So it would seem.’ He chewed slowly on a piece of apple while Morna got more riled. ‘Have you been behaving yourself in my absence, wife?’ he said.

  ‘Absolutely not. Where have you been?’

  ‘Enjoying the ocean. She is a less cruel mistress than you,’ he said, offering her a piece of apple.

  Morna took it and chewed on it to calm herself down. Why did he have to look so good? Why did the dying sun have to turn his hair bronze and make his eyes so blue and compelling? Why could she not drag her own eyes away from those big hands as they sliced the knife into that apple, taking a piece of it at a time, just like her temper.

  He eased himself off the mast and came over to her. ‘I have news,’ he said bluntly, and there was excitement in his eyes. ‘There is to be a gathering of the Clans hereabouts, on neutral territory, so none of us can murder each other, though we dearly want to. I have returned only to provision the ship and set sail tomorrow.’

  ‘How long will you be gone this time?’

  ‘Hard to say but I can’t leave the sheep too long unprotected, else the wolves gather and feast.’

  ‘Must you talk in riddles, Will?’

  He did not reply but merely smiled at her in that boyish way which made her feel weak inside.

  ‘Look, Will, if you don’t want to tell me what you are about, that is up to you. It is getting cold, I am going inside.’

  He caught her arm, and for a moment Morna hoped he’d kiss her. ‘Would you prefer I did not go?’

  ‘It is no matter to me if you stay or go.’

  ‘Liar.’

  ‘Don’t imagine that I will pine for you, or that I will miss you.’

  He laughed. ‘No, I won’t, Morna, because you are coming with me,’ he said, planting a rough kiss on her mouth. With that, he sauntered off back along the rocks, and Morna stood like a fool with the salt spray wetting her skirts. Excitement at the prospect of a journey warred with terror at getting back on a ship. The last time, she had been in mortal peril, sick, cold and facing a terrible fate. Would this time be any different now she was Will’s wife? Could she trust in him to keep her safe? At least it was an end to her confinement at Fitheach, and there must be a reason he wanted her with him, though she couldn’t puzzle out what it was.

  ‘Are you coming my sweet?’ he shouted back at her. ‘Darkness is almost upon us, and the bats will start to fly.’

  Morna picked up her skirts and hurried after him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Morna’s stomach lurched as she looked out at the ocean in misery. The afternoon sun hitting the surface of the water turned it to undulating silver. It was beautiful, but every sway and rise of the ship was torture.

  ‘There’s not much chop today, ‘tis a fine day for a sail,’ said Will, looking at her with what she hoped was concern as she clung to the mast. The brightness of the day was reflected in his eyes, lightening them to turquoise and making them less fierce.

  ‘I feel sick,’ said Morna, swallowing hard to beat back nausea.

  ‘Aye, your face is the colour of a fish’s belly, alright. The sickness will pass soon. Better you move about, get the feel of the ship, go with it as it moves, instead of standing stiff like that, clinging like a limpet.’

  ‘It’s alright for you. I hate the sea. It holds bad memories for me.’

  ‘I know,’ he said in frustration. ‘Come, time to get over this Morna, unless you are afraid, that is.’ He held out his hand, both a challenge and a provocation. Morna glared at him and took hold of it.

  ‘Come forward to the prow with me,’ he said, dragging her towards the front of the ship where there was less shelter from the buffeting wind and the pound of the waves.

  Morna tottered after him, clutching on to him like a vice, veering this way and that as the ship tilted, the blasted thing. ‘It is worse here Will,’ she shouted, bracing herself as best she could as the deck rose and then crashed back down with a creak and a splash.

  Will dragged her up to the railing at the prow and placed her hands firmly on it. His arms came
around either side of her from behind, and his rough hands came over hers. Morna looked down at his mutilated hand in dismay, the gap where his fingers should be made her heart ache for him. Was there a gap where his heart should be, too?

  Will pressed his body against her back, cutting the wind a little and forming a comforting kind of cage. No matter what he said or did, she always felt just a little safer when he was close, bodily that is. Emotionally it was another matter.

  ‘The wind is picking up,’ he breathed into her ear. ‘Just go with the waves, with the movement of the ship.’

  ‘Oh,’ squeaked Morna as the swell took them upwards only to come crashing back down. She wanted to show him she was not afraid and so she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Tell me again about Barra?’

  ‘It will take us most of the day to reach it –a wild, barren place and one that not many are tough enough to survive. Monks made a home there, generations ago, thinking it would bring them closer to God to suffer its privations and, believe me, they have got very close to him indeed. There are few remaining now, and their home is meagre - there is but a simple kirk - but they will offer such shelter as they can to those at the gathering.’

  ‘Neutral territory?’ said Morna, bracing for impact as another swell hit sideways tilting the ship to an extreme angle.

  ‘Aye, it has to be, for no clan of the Isles trusts another to be true to its word.’

  ‘It sounds as though any agreement stands little chance of holding then.’

  ‘Maybe, but I want to feel the lie of the land, the mood of the Lairds and whether they think the English attack will succeed. There has been talk of a truce between the English King and the Earl of Lancaster. Such a reconciliation will give rise to a huge force that could crush Robert the Bruce, once and for all.’

  ‘Lancaster and the King may be cousins, but they hate each other.’