The Highlander's Runaway Bride

‘Just see to my hair now, Nessa,’ she said. ‘You can see to those when I dress.’

As the efficient maid washed her hair, Eva faced the unspeakable realisation that her only way out of this was to protect her daughter. She would have to take her father’s word that he would not harm Mairead if she did as he ordered. And it meant forcing the Mackintosh’s man into a marriage he did not want.

Between the devil and the deep sea, Eva made her decision in that moment.

* * *

After shaving and dressing in his finest shirt and plaid, Rob strode down to the hall, needing something to drink after the scene in Eva’s chambers. His hands shook in fury as the image of Ramsey taking a strap to Eva repeated in his mind. He wanted to strangle the man for such a callous act. Especially now that Eva was Rob’s.

He stopped. Buffeted by the servants and others in the corridor who were not expecting him to do so, he leaned against the wall, out of the way.

When the hell had he decided she was his?

Thinking back over the last days, Rob realised that when he’d rescued her from the cave and took her to the cottage, he began to accept the idea of it. That was why her pleading words to escape him bothered him so much.

The idea of being forced in to marriage had angered and repelled him at first. Just as it clearly had Eva.

It took him the weeks of travel here to begin to accept it as his fate. Eva had not.

It took days for him to accept her. From what he’d just witnessed and heard...and not heard, it would take her much longer, if she ever would.

Yet, in spite of his actions and treatment of her and in spite of her father’s, she seemed disinclined to marry him.

Had she set her sights higher, then?

As the reality struck him and the old wounds of pride surfaced, he knew he needed a drink. He pushed off the wall and made his way to the hall. Expecting something to mark the occasion of the wedding of the laird’s daughter, instead he found the hall as it had been during other meals.

Although he would sit at the high table, he searched for a servant and asked for something stronger than either the ale or wine he usually drank. He drank the first bit down and held out the cup for more...and twice more. He waved the man away then, for a drunken groom would just give wagging tongues something else to pass around.

Rob moved aside and watched as the hall filled and the priest arrived. The portly man almost waddled as he walked, making his way to the table at the front of the hall and greeting several MacKays along his path. From what Rob could see, the priest seemed good-natured and well liked among those here. When the lord and lady arrived and took their seats, he knew it was time, both to make his way there and to take this step that would change his life forever.

The laird greeted him and introduced him to Father Darach before sitting and motioning for them to sit. The lady conversed quietly with the priest at her side and the laird nodded to those at this and the other tables.

Nothing in his words or manners gave any sign of the scene above stairs a short time ago. No clue to what the man truly felt or was about. Rob’s gut told him something was going on here, but outwardly all seemed well enough. When silence filled the room, he looked up and saw that everyone’s gaze was turned to the stairway in the corner.

Eva MacKay had arrived in the hall.

He was on his feet before he knew it and on his way to escort her before he could think of it. A blank expression momentarily changed as their eyes met, and Rob watched as surprise gave way to a glimmer of fear. Even that disappeared and the neutral countenance was back in place.

Rob stopped several paces from her and took his first true look at the woman who was his bride. The simple but elegant gown outlined her lush curves, and he noticed the way her long, unbound hair fell over her breasts and ended just above her hips. His mouth went dry even while his palms grew sweaty. Her hair was pulled away from her face with only a few curling tendrils outlining her face, and the graceful lines in her jaw and neck were revealed to him.

This woman before him was new to him.

Not the runaway disguised as a boy.

Not the ill woman, pale and wan.

The only signs of her recent illness or injury were the dark circles beneath her ice-blue eyes and the limp.

The limp. He strode to her side and bowed.

‘Lady Eva,’ he began. ‘Should you be walking on that ankle without help?’

A blush rose in her cheeks, giving her more colour than he’d seen there before. Even when she sat naked in her bath. Rob tried to forget the images of her creamy skin and feminine curves as he offered his arm to her now. How she had managed to make it this far, he knew not, but he knew she was trembling and in pain. Far more than just her ankle now.

Though he’d tried not to look at her back when he’d stormed into the room at the sound of her screams, he had. It was all he could do not to tear Ramsey MacKay apart with his bare hands. The welts were wide and deep.

‘Here,’ he said, placing his arms behind her with a care to those areas struck and lifting her from her feet.

She did not resist him. She did not say anything. Eva just sat in his arms, unmoving, as he carried her forward. If he was not mistaken, some of the women watching sighed as they passed. Although done for another reason, if it would smooth things over, that was good, too.

Rob stopped near the table and placed her on her feet, never letting go of her completely. He nodded to the priest who walked towards them and then glanced down at the woman at his side.

And in that moment, he realised his life was about to change in ways he probably could not even dream of. More than his decision to support Brodie. More than his work or position in the clan now that they had been successful and ended the threat to it.

More than any step he’d taken in his life up to this moment.

So why was his gut telling him to turn and walk away?

Chapter Seven (#ulink_5254ff16-56b9-57ab-8341-2314d5dc74c8)

For whatever reason, the priest’s words about their marriage contract eased his concerns. Rob listened to the details of the agreement reached between the MacKay and Brodie and calmed with each bit spoken. He’d not known about her dowry or the amount Brodie was giving him until the priest said it, and the wealth he would gain surprised him.

Any sane man would leap at the chance to take Lady Eva MacKay to wife.

Any sane man...

The silence startled him, and Rob realised they waited on his words. His vow. Words that would tie him—body, soul and possessions—to the woman who stood at his side now.

Who stood trembling at his side.

Rob glanced down, now noticing the paleness of her face and the way she held her mouth closed tightly. And how she shook as she waited on him to speak. Did she harbour a hope that he would yet disavow this arrangement?

He opened his mouth and spoke the words the priest had asked for—I will.

I will, a second time.

And then, the words he’d always imagined he’d speak at some point in his life, but not now and never in this way.

‘I, Robert Alexander Mackintosh, take you, Eva MacKay, as my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us depart, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth.’

Father Darach turned to Eva and waited, even as Rob did, for her response. Rob did not dare to look at her, but he felt the shudder that tore through her then and wondered if this would be the moment when she refused him. When the moment expanded to several seconds, he thought it might be.

‘I...’ she began, so low that he doubted anyone but he could hear her. ‘I...’

Eva pulled against his hold, trying to move away, though with her injured ankle and foot, she would never be able to do so. When he did glance at her, he recognised the expression in her eyes—sheer and utter panic. That turned into terror when her father took a step in their direction.

‘Courage now, lass,’ he whispered, sliding his arm back around her. ‘You surely have faced greater dangers these last weeks than anything you face from me.’