The Maid of Lorne

“The priest is waiting now, and prepared for wedding or funeral.”

“You jest!”

“Nay, lady. If you walk in, we wed. If I carry your body, he says the Mass for the Dead. Now, does your choice stand?”

She would marry now, without family or friends to stand with her? Lara had envisioned a nicer ceremony and celebration to mark the occasion for the daughter of the MacDougall. Now, she would marry in her worn work gown, to a man covered in the blood of her clan.

“I said I would wed and I stand by my word.”

“Come, then. Father Connaughty will be pleased to see you walk in.”

The barbarian then had the nerve to hold out his arm to her. Looking about, seeing the soldiers surrounding her and noting that her people watched from some of the windows of the towers and from the gate, she pulled her courage around her and placed her hand on his arm. With her head held high, she walked at his side to her fate.

She had never believed that marrying for love was an option for her. In her position as the eldest daughter, she knew her marriage would be an alliance, but she had never considered that it would be a punishment.

Chapter Two

Like a pig destined for slaughter, she had been washed and seasoned and dressed. And all at the explicit orders of her husband. She had not, however, been fatted yet, for his orders were for the bedding to occur before the meal. In shock over hearing of the agreement between her father and the Bruce for her settlements and the disposition of the castle and the wealth she inherited from her mother, she’d listened to the rest of it with little interest.

Now, she stood staring into the fire in her chamber’s brazier, trying not to think about what would happen next. Oh, she knew about coupling with a man. Nothing much that happened between men and women was secret in clan life. But to have to do that with a complete stranger, a man who had barged into her life and who held in his grasp not only her life, but also the lives of her family and people, was difficult to contemplate.

But, it was out of her hands now. He held all the power. Whatever he ordered was done, either by those men who accompanied him here, or by her people, who had been told of his orders and his marriage to their laird’s daughter. Part of her, deep inside, would remain quiet and wait for a better time to fight back. And fight back she would.

The Bruce might hold Dunstaffnage for now, but there were ways to make certain that his possession was a temporary thing. Allies of her father were no doubt already planning how to recapture the castle and to free him. As the wife of the Bruce’s man here, she could get access to information that might help the fight against him and hasten the MacDougall’s return to his center of power.

“You look quite formidable when you frown like that, lady.”

His voice was deep and rich and it caused waves of unease to pass through her. Did her guilt show on her face? Clearing her thoughts, she turned to face her stranger husband.

Gone was the bloodied warrior she’d exchanged vows with in the chapel but an hour before. In his place was a handsome nobleman with his long brown hair pulled back from his face. Clothed in a long dressing robe as he was, she could see the long gash on his neck, now cleaned and sewn. Lara had noted his height when he had taken hold of her, so that was no surprise, but his piercing green eyes and strong chin and even smile were.

She looked up and realized that she had been gawking…and he had noticed. Taking a deep breath, she wiped her sweaty palms over her own robe.

“Although your maid said you preferred ale, I brought this wine to share with you. ‘Tis a gift from the Bruce to honor our marriage.”

The man walked toward her, carrying two goblets. Lara’s first instinct was to knock the cups from his hands, for drinking the Bruce’s wine would be an insult to those in her clan who had died this day. From the firm set of his chin, she knew that Sebastien would not tolerate that behavior from her. He had promised retribution against those she loved if she did not do as he told her, and she believed that he would seek it.

“I admire self-control.” He made a mock salute after handing her one of the goblets.

“I do not know what you mean, sir.” She lowered her gaze to the cup she now held.

“You wished to knock the wine from my hands at the mention of the Bruce. I am pleased that you exercised control over that wayward plan.”

“Am I so easy to discern?”

“Nay, lady. But as one who struggles with the same weakness, I recognize it quickly in others.” He stepped closer and guided her cup to her lips. “Try the wine before condemning it for its giver.”

Lara sniffed at the goblet, wondering if he had drugged it with some herb to make her more compliant for what he planned.

“Does the wine smell turned?” He sniffed at his own and frowned, then sipped it. “What think you wrong with it?” He gazed into her eyes, and then he nodded as he seem to read her thoughts once more. “You think I have drugged yours? To what purpose?”

Sebastien stepped back and took her wine. He drank deeply from it and then handed it back to her.

“If I want you dead or intend to strike at you, wife, you will see it coming. I do not hide behind the cowardly art of poison. You will know if…when you are my target.”

He turned from her and walked to the window in her chamber. Leaning an elbow on the frame, he stared out at the gathering dusk and drank the rest of his wine. Lara knew he was angry now. She saw it in his stance and in the way that the muscles of his neck tightened as he gritted his teeth.

“Sir, I meant no insult.”

He laughed and looked at her. “You think I would drug you into submission, and then say you insult me not?” His laugh turned sarcastic. “Lady, your barbs are like weapons and you wield them with amazing accuracy.”

Their gazes held this time and he moved closer to her. She knew that her actions determined his treatment of so many of her people. She could live through whatever he planned for her. She was a MacDougall and would not shirk from what needed to be done. If lying with this man was the price for her life and those of her siblings and father, she could do it.

Lifting her goblet to her mouth, she tilted it and drank the contents in one long swallow. Drops of wine collected on her lips when she lowered the cup, and she thought to lick them off, but his mouth was there first. Warm and firm, he pressed his lips to hers. As she felt the tip of his tongue slide over her mouth, and a heated pulsing begin to move through her, she pulled away.

“I know my duty, sir. I do not need your wine to ease my way in this.” If he did not like subterfuge, he would get none from her in this matter. The quicker done the better; once bedded and their vows sealed, she would finally see her brother and sister…if he kept his word. “I will not fight you.”

Lara handed him back the goblet and walked to the side of her bed. At first, she thought to climb on top. But, if they lay on the thick woolen covers, the sign needed to prove consummation would not be apparent. So she tugged the blankets out of the way and climbed on the fine linen sheets that covered her bed. Careful to gather her robe about her, she lay down and closed her eyes.

And she waited.

No sound filled the chamber except the crackling of the wood in the brazier. She was certain he could hear her heart pounding in her chest. Still, he made no move or any sounds. Lara felt the tension grow inside of her. It was difficult to breathe and her skin tingled as the coolness of the room penetrated the thin material of the dressing gown she wore. She longed to pull the thick layer of blankets over her, but she did not.

And still she waited.

She was beautiful and intelligent and proud. She was loyal to her people and she was a skilled tactician in her own right. And she was his now.

And she was terrified.

Oh, his wife would never admit to it, but he could read that in her gaze and in her stance when he entered the room. It was obvious to him until she gathered her self-control and banished the fleeting glimpse of terror within those deep blue eyes. Then, to his surprise, she climbed onto the bed and placed herself like the sacrifice she was on the pristine white sheets. Although what he must do would embarrass her, he would rather not have to humiliate her before her people and the Bruce’s men.

He liked the challenges that she presented to him at every step of the way. Sebastien could not let them go unmet, but he learned more about her and the way her mind worked every time she resisted him and his orders.

Sebastien walked the few steps to the bed and gazed down at Lara. Her form was certainly pleasing to him. The dressing gown hid little from his eyes, and her position offered an enticing view of her lush breasts and shapely legs. Her blond hair spilled around her like waves, on the pillows and the bedcovers, tempting him to feel it and smell it. Bedding her would be no hardship to him. Catching a glimpse out the window at the sun as it moved toward the sea, he knew he had little time to dawdle at the task.

Sebastien untied his robe and let it drop to the floor. He sat next to her on the bed, forcing her to move.

“Sir, you may use the other side,” she squeaked as she looked through lowered lashes at him. “You are naked!”

“I will take the side nearest the door, Lara. Move now.”

He did laugh as she scrambled across the bed and positioned herself as far away from him as possible, all without looking directly at him. He granted her the reprieve of pulling up a sheet to cover them, and then he reached over and grabbed her hand.

“Now, wife, come closer.”

He slowly pulled her nearer to him until she lay next to him, her soft robe touching his leg. Sebastien reached down and untied the belt holding it together and tugged it free. She began to struggle as she realized his intent, but he paused.

“I intend no ravishment this evening, Lara. If you follow my lead, you may find the joy that exists in the joining of a man and a woman.”