Highlander’s Lesser Evil: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Highlands' Deceptive Lovers Book 4)

by Adamina Young

  If crotchety old Gerta couldn’t hex the priest, she could undoubtedly wield an ax. Theo had already spent one rather unpleasant afternoon watching the woman take out her frustrations on an old tree.

  It was fortunate indeed that the priest was still alive to wed Theo and Gemma.

  To his surprise, his bride was already at the church’s door and was pacing impatiently while the priest leaned against a cane and napped.

  Joining her, he frowned. “I have been to several of these in my lifetime. Most of the brides walk down to meet their grooms, and not the other way around.”

  “There is no need for romance, remember?” she snapped and looked over his shoulder at the priest. “Father Ian, do you think you could stay awake long enough to marry me?”

  With a snort, the man opened his eyes and straightened. “Aye, lass. I am pleased to wed ye to...oh, ye are Laird MacDougal!”

  “Aye,” Theo said patiently, but never took his eyes off Gemma. Her dark hair was coiled in elegant braids around her head, and he was captivated by the stubborn strands that had escaped and flowed around her face in the breeze. She was dressed in gold with green ribbons draped about her, and while she was beautiful, there was nothing but resolution on her face.

  He should tell her that she looked lovely. Tell her that he was enormously pleased to be marrying her. Tell her anything that would put a smile on her face.

  “Father Ian?” Gemma said impatiently. “Could you begin?”

  Bloody hell. “Gemma, wait. Before we do this, I really ought to tell ye...”

  “Laird MacDougal, there is no need to try and woo me. It is a lovely dress, and as I told Agnes, it is wasted on me.” Her expression softened some. “I don’t think being married to you will be such a hardship, and I will try to be a good wife. I cannot guarantee that things will always be easy, but I am wedding you with no regrets.”

  The problem was that Theo wasn’t confident she’d still have no regrets when she discovered the truth of that letter.

  As Father Ian started to incarnate the introduction to the marriage slowly, Gemma rolled her eyes. “Father, please, we all have better things to do with our day. I take Laird Theodore MacDougal to be my husband, to respect and honor and revere and kiss his boots every night...no, I’m not really going to do that, but I will do my best to be a good wife.”

  Theo held back a snort as Ian’s eyes started to drift shut.

  “Very well, Lady Gemma. I take ye to be my wife, to protect and respect. Before God and the old ones—”

  “Now, wait a minute.” Father Ian woke up. “Ye cannot say that! This is a vow before God.”

  Gemma stepped forward with a smile and put her hands on the priest’s arm. “Father, he does not mean those old ones. He simply means the wise ones here in the audience. If he had finished, he would have said the old and young and the hard workers that make Loch Moran so wonderful.”

  “Aye? All right then. I suppose that is it then. Before God ye have made these vows...” He paused. “Have ye made the vows?”

  “Yes, Father,” she said, impatient. “We have made the vows. Before God, uniting the MacDougal clan and Loch Moran, we are now man and wife. Yes?”

  Ian looked down at the book in his hands and jerked his head up and down. “Aye. That seems right.”

  Turning to the crowd, Gemma held up her hands. “Laird Theodore MacDougal and his wife, Gemma!”

  Everyone cheered, and Theo couldn’t help but smirk. His wife had all but officiated their ceremony for them, but she’d forgotten one crucial thing. “My dear,” he said as he grabbed her hand, “there is one more thing.”

  There, before all of Loch Moran, he shared his first kiss with Gemma.

  And it nearly knocked him off his feet.

  Her first real kiss. Gemma didn’t know whether to push him away or grab him and pull him closer. The heat of his touch permeated the thick fabric of her dress, but still, she shivered as his tongue slipped through the line of her lips.

  Instead, she did neither. All she could do was hold on to him to keep from falling to the ground.

  Everyone else slipped away, and all she could focus on was him. His kiss was maddeningly slow and ever so thorough. Her head spun as she clutched at his shirt and whimpered.

  Breaking free, he chuckled softly and kissed her forehead. “Now we are wed.”

  Reality slammed into her, and Gemma ground her teeth together.

  How dare he kiss me like that in front of everyone?

  “Do you really think humiliation is the way to start off our marriage?”

  “Not humiliation, my dear. Just making certain we follow all the proper steps in the ceremony. After all, this is the strangest marriage I have ever attended.” With a grin, he reached down and took her hand. “I present my wife, Lady MacDougal.”

  The crowd cheered, and Gemma turned bright red. Part of it was knowing they’d all witnessed her first kiss, and the other part was knowing that they saw her as their savior of some kind.

  All because she’d married a man.

  Tears gathered in her eyes, but she held them back as she held up her chin. She’d already made her decision. Nothing would come of regretting it now except to make herself miserable.

  Theo nudged her gently down to the large table that had been set up for the feast. Yet another party. The thought put a smile on her face. Loch Moran had so little to celebrate for so long, that it seemed as though they were cramming a lifetime of festivities into a few days.

  They deserved it. They were all hard workers—survivors, even—and Gemma was pleased that they would feel safe and secure.

  “Lady Gemma! Lady Gemma!” The children ran to her, and she was about to correct them when she realized that she was now the wife of a laird, and they were showing her respect.

  “David, it’s up to you to make certain that your brother doesn’t eat too many of those sweet biscuits today. You know how it upset his stomach.” She kissed Cameron’s head and let him run off to play with the other kids.

  “I will miss ye when ye go to the laird’s keep,” David said quietly. “Who will protect Cameron?”

  Gemma kneeled down and held his hands. “Sweetheart, all of Loch Moran will protect you. They all know that your parents are gone, and they all want to help. No one will let your uncle take you away, and if they did, I would ride with all of MacDougal’s army to rescue you. That is a promise that I can make to you.”

  “Besides, my lad, we arenae going anywhere immediately,” Theo said as he joined them, and placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Ye doonae have to say goodbye to Lady Gemma just yet.”

  The boy brightened at that and raced off to play with the other kids.

  Gemma straightened and narrowed her eyes. “I was having a private conversation with him.”

  “He is one of mine and ‘tis my duty to ease his mind if I can,” Theo said. “I doonae want ye to worry on yer wedding day. Enjoy yerself.”

  She eyed him. There was something in his voice. “Ye arenae staying?”

  “There is something that I must take care of first, but rest assured, my wife, I will see ye tonight.” His eyes held a promise of an interesting night, and her stomach flipped. She hadn’t really thought about the wedding night.

  Then, she frowned. “We were just wed. What do you need to do?”

  “No need to concern yerself.” He turned and walked away without so much as a kiss or a touch.

  Well, she did know not to expect any romance.

  7

  There was one person, Theo noted, who had not been at the wedding. Striding across the land, he found Graeme MacSeaver on the edge of the loch, staring out across the water.

  “Ye are missing the festivities,” Theo greeted. “If ye are here to look after the people, then ye should be with them. Unless ye are here looking for weaknesses in my patrols.”

  Graeme smirked. “Are ye saying that yer patrols around the loch are weak?”

  “Hardly. How do ye think I discove
red where to find ye?”

  Graeme turned back to the water. “I expected ye to be with yer bride. I should congratulate ye. I had no idea that ye would convince her to marry ye so quickly.”

  “There is no other lass here to hold a candle to her, as I am certain ye have already discovered. Tell me, Graeme, were ye hoping to bully her into crossing the border with ye so ye could marry her yerself? I know Fletcher wilnae marry again. He has no need, but ye want a way to align yerself with these people. They love Gemma. If ye marry her, they might turn to ye, give away my secrets, and help ye take the land back.”

  Graeme turned his head, eyes wide with surprise. “Is that what ye think I am up to? I wouldnae force a lass to marry me. If I wanted to marry Gemma, I would woo her. I doonae need to drag her across the border.”

  Theo fingered the letter in his pocket. Of course Graeme wasn’t here for Gemma. Fletcher probably didn’t even remember that she was here, and if he did, he didn’t care. Someone else forged that letter to give to Gemma, and Theo doubted they wanted her to flee.

  No, they’d hoped she would turn to him to save her. Wouldn’t they feel shame to learn that the only reason she’d married him was to save them?

  “So why are ye here?”

  “My father used to bring me here,” Graeme said softly as he looked out over the water. “Back when Fletcher still cared about his people, back when it was still safe here. I lost everything that belonged to him in a fire save for a ring. That, I lost here. Every time I come to Loch Moran, I search for it though I know ‘tis long gone.”

  “Are ye really here to search for a ring?”

  “Nay. I am here wondering if these people would be safer with me when I am laird than with ye, but I wouldnae give up the opportunity to search for my father’s ring.” Graeme smiled faintly. “‘Tis only a matter of time before I am laird.”

  “Ye doubt my rule?”

  “Oh, aye, Theo, though it shouldnae surprise ye. Many doubt yer rule. Not too long ago, ye were thought to be as cruel as yer father. Many find it difficult to believe that ye arenae the same man,” Graeme pointed out.

  “I did what I needed to wrench control from my father. I know there are deeds that I have done, which will haunt me until the end of my days, but my only goal now is to protect these people. I wilnae give Loch Moran back. The question is whether ye plan to try and take them from me by force?”

  “Not tonight. Ye best return to yer wife if ye plan on enjoying yer wedding night.” He turned back to the water, and Theo could sense that he wanted to be left alone. He was here for more than the ring. Perhaps he was here to revel in the memories of his father.

  What would life be like if he had a father who loved him? Or a mother who would stand up for him?

  “Do they ever look at ye and wonder if ye will be just like Fletcher?” Theo asked.

  “Fletcher isnae cruel. Not outright. But he is weak to his vices, and the land has paid the price for it. When they look at me, I fear they doonae see me at all. They have lived without a leader for too long. I doonae think they will know what it will be like to have one.”

  So he had something to prove to them, and that made him a dangerous man.

  “Enjoy yer time by the waters, with yer memories. Ye wilnae take Loch Moran from me.”

  The man just grunted.

  After leaving Graeme, he started back to the village and stared at the cottage that was Gemma’s. A candle flickered in the window. She would be waiting for him, and he most certainly wanted to go to her.

  So why was he on this hill, staring at the outside of her home instead?

  “Laird.”

  Theo turned at the sound of Thomas’s voice and smiled faintly. “Ye of all people doonae need to call me that.”

  “Theo, then.” With a faint grin, he walked up next to Theo and overlooked the village with him. “Ye are a married man. Ye will have an heir.”

  Fatherhood. Theo’s gut twisted at the idea. “’Tis my duty.”

  “She is an interesting lass. An English lass at the helm of the MacDougal clan will likely lead to yer father’s early death.”

  “A welcome outcome.”

  Thomas didn’t immediately reply. He, like Hamish, knew of Theo’s disgust at the idea of killing his father. Blood was still blood. His friend had once asked him if he would mourn his father once he was gone, and Theo couldn’t answer. It was his father, after all, but he had no good memories of the man—only a sense of loyalty through duty.

  “Theo, why are ye not down there with yer wife?”

  Sighing, Theo turned and thought of the letter that was still in his pocket. He’d married her, knowing that the letter was most likely forged. Graeme’s confirmation didn’t ease his conscience. Was he any better than his father? He hadn’t taken her by force, but had he manipulated her?

  “There is still much to see to before I turn in for the night,” Theo said vaguely.

  A good friend, Thomas bowed his head and grinned. “Then let me show ye the new formation that I have implemented to allow me to keep an eye on our blind spots.”

  “That I would like to see.”

  Gemma had resisted the ale, wanting a clear mind for what was to happen tonight, but when the last of the candle burned out, and the sky began to lighten, she drew the blanket around her shoulders and glared about her empty cottage.

  “Fine way for a woman to spend her wedding night,” she grumbled. “Alone.”

  Well, if she wanted to get any weaving done, she’d need at least a couple of hours of sleep, and she certainly wasn’t going to lose any simply because of something so trivial as a husband.

  “A moronic husband,” she snarled. “Well, if he doesn’t want this, then I don’t want him.” Shoving a chair under the front door handle, she grinned with satisfaction and headed to bed. She’d barely closed her eyes for a moment when she felt the bed dip next to her.

  With a shriek, she jumped up and grabbed the large knitting needle she kept by the bed. Before she could bury it in the unfortunate body next to her, Theo grabbed her hand.

  “First ye put a chair under the door handle, and now ye mean to attack me?” he said as he plucked the needle from her hands. “Have ye changed yer mind about wanting a husband?”

  “A husband usually joins his wife on their wedding night,” she growled as she jerked her hand back. Annoyed that he’d not only managed to get into her cottage but that he’d managed to do so without waking her, she turned her back on him. “Now if you will excuse me, I plan on getting some sleep.”

  “An excellent idea.” Bending over, he started to remove his boots.

  Furious, she turned back over. “You are not staying here.”

  “We are married, Gemma. Ye should know. Ye officiated the ceremony yerself. This is yer bed. Now ‘tis my bed.”

  “Funny how that works,” she said through clenched teeth. “I suppose those looms belong to you as well. Have fun weaving.”

  “Easy, love. I amnae taking the cottage from ye, nor yer looms. I just want to rest my head for the remainder of the night.”

  “All this talk about desire, and you couldn’t even be bothered to spend your wedding night with me. Tell me the truth. Was there another woman that you spent the night with? Another lass?”

  “Jealous?”

  Yes, although she was not going to admit it to him. “No. You do what you want.”

  She tried to lie back down and ignore him, but the bed was hardly big enough for two, and soon, he was plastered up against her with his arm curved comfortably around the curve of her hip. Biting her bottom lip to keep from gasping, she held herself as still as possible. No one had ever touched her like that or been so close.

  “Gemma,” he said huskily. “I havenae been with another lass tonight. There is none that I want besides ye, and while I cannae say this marriage will always be a happy one, I wilnae stray from ye.”

  “Then where were you tonight?”

  “I wanted a word with Graeme to make cert
ain that he knew ye were taken. He was not at the wedding festivities and I was worried.” He hesitated. “Then I had to see to my duties.”

  “And now you want to see to your husbandly duties?”

  “Not tonight. We both need our sleep, but ‘tis not because I doonae want ye.”

  The evidence of his desire was pressed against her backside, so she knew he was telling the truth.

  She closed her eyes and wondered if she would get any sleep sharing her bed with a man who was a stranger to her, but surprisingly, exhaustion got the best of her, and his warmth comforted her until she drifted off.

  8

  When Gemma woke up the next morning, Theo was gone. The only sign that he had spent the night with her was the scent from the blankets. Confused by the strange sense of loss in the pit of her stomach, she pulled up the blankets to her nose.

  Wonderful. Now she was acting like a woman who’d lost all sense.

  Throwing the blankets down, she all but fell off the bed and scrambled away. Not enough sleep; that was her problem. She just needed to get her chores and work done for the day, and then she’d go to bed early.

  As she changed out of her nightdress, her cheeks flushed from the memory of his body curved around hers. She heated some oatmeal in the pot and scarfed down her breakfast. Sitting at the loom, she hummed as she started to work.

  There was a time when her mind would go blissfully blank while she worked. When the threading would chase away the fears of a marriage she didn’t want, when it would fill the loneliness of finding herself in a harsh land, when it would give her a purpose she’d always felt like she didn’t have.

  Now it gave her too much time to be still, to think about the choice she’d made so rashly yesterday.