Moon Awakening (7 page)

"What the hell are you doing?"

The raucous voice infiltrated Emily's thoughts just as Lachlan went stiff, his hold on her biting into her waist.

He lifted his mouth from hers. "Go away, Ulf."

"Balmoral warriors do not bed married women," Ulf said, spitting the words out with enough disgust to make Emily's face flame with shame.

She buried it against Lachlan's neck.

"She is not married."

"She said she was."

"She lied."

"And you have only her word for this?" Ulf demanded.

"Yes," Lachlan ground out as he lowered Emily until she was standing on her own two feet again.

He turned to face his brother, stepping away from her at the same time. Chilled by the loss of his touch, she rubbed her arms. He stood between her and Ulf, but she did not feel as if he stood with her—only in front of her. He was a barrier, but not an ally.

Shame that she wanted him to be suffused her. She was not married, but she was promised.
To a man who has flat-out refused to marry you
, her brain reminded her. Did that negate the betrothal? It couldn't when Abigail's future was at stake.

"Why should we believe you now, English? One way or another, you are a liar." Ulf sneered at her.

"I'm not lying."

He abruptly turned his attention to his brother. "What the hell were you doing kissing her, regardless? She is our enemy."

"She is not our enemy and you will not call her such again." Lachlan's tone was so harsh, she could barely make herself believe he had been the man kissing her so tenderly only moments before.

Ulf did not appear impressed by his brother's ire, however. "I bloody well will. Just because you're controlled by that beast inside you does not mean I will abandon reason for such base urges as lust. It's obvious to the other soldiers as well. They're back at the beach betting on whether or not you have tupped her yet."

Emily gasped at the crude terminology and the implication of Ulf's words. The others knew that Lachlan wanted her? They thought he was having her… right now? By the saints, didn't they realize she was a chaste and honorable maid?

She hadn't been acting like either a moment before though. She'd touched a man's bare chest… and wanted to do more.

Perhaps she was depraved.

"I am not governed by my beast, I am benefited by him," Lachlan said in a hard voice.

"So you say."

What was all this talk of beasts? Was Ulf trying to say that lust was a beast? She'd heard it described thus by the priest that served her father's barony, but Ulf did not seem a religious man who would eschew the pleasures of the flesh. Did he mean to imply that he did not have the same beast raging in himself, or simply that he felt no such thing for her?

She suspected the latter and did not feel in the least offended by it. Relieved more like.

Ulf's sneer was now directed entirely at his brother. "Then prove your superiority instead of making a mockery of it."

Lachlan sighed. "She is innocent."

Emily was confused. Of what had she been accused?

"You kissed her to determine if she had been touched or not?" Ulf asked, sounding marginally approving. "To test whether or not she told the truth?"

"Yes."

Emily stared at both men for several seconds before fully comprehending the import of their conversation. When she did, she wished the earth would open up and swallow her. She had responded with lascivious abandon to a test the odious laird had been making on the veracity of her words. While she had been lost to something beautiful and she had believed meaningful, he had merely been trying to discern if she told the truth or not.

It was humiliating… and it hurt.

Nevertheless, she was shocked he'd drawn that conclusion, considering how wantonly she had incited his ardor.

"He might refuse to touch an English wife," Ulf mused.

"Not even for the sake of his pride would a Chrechte warrior refuse to mate his wife. Honor demands he touch no other." Lachlan shook his head. "Nay. She is not his wife and we have only her word she is his betrothed, though I am inclined to believe that part of her story."

"You are certain of her innocence?"

"He has never even kissed her."

Ulf looked at Emily, his expression mocking. "She is that unskilled?"

"She is completely untouched."

"She
was
," Ulf said with a smirk, now obviously thinking his brother's actions bordered on the heroic.

Why shouldn't he? She had been thoroughly humiliated by her response to the kiss. And that had to be obvious by the blush burning her face and neck. No doubt Ulf was most pleased by such a circumstance, but she wanted to strangle Lachlan.

He had promised not to hurt her, but once again he had lied… for he had hurt her more than she wanted to admit, and not merely her pride. She felt wounded, but she would not give him or his horrible brother the satisfaction of knowing that.

And she was never going to believe another word Lachlan said. A man who could kiss like he meant it—but didn't—could not be trusted.

When they got back to the others, Emily forced herself to apologize to the warrior she had hit with the driftwood. Her words were met with a shrug and then the man turned his back on her.

Fine. She wasn't going to be hurt by his rejection. She was through being so tenderhearted around these barbarians. She took their feelings toward her entirely too seriously. Hadn't she lived almost her whole life with her father and stepmother thinking less of her than if she were a servant in their household?

The only person in the world who truly loved her like family was supposed to was her sister Abigail. And Emily was in the Highlands to spare her sister the same fate. She could face anything and anyone for such a cause.

She wasn't going to run again… unless she was sure of her destination and her chances of true escape were high. She was going to endure and do it with a smile on her face just to confuse them. She would show them she was no weakling, no matter how foolishly she had behaved thus far.

Cait rushed to her side and took both Emily's hands in hers. "Are you all right?"

Emily squeezed Cait's fingers. "I am fine. I do not know why I ran. It was foolish."

"Your emotions overcame you. I could see it happening, but could do nothing to help you. It was not surprising after the time in the boat. You were terrified; I could smell your fear. You masked it well, but I was right beside you," Cait said with obvious admiration. "I did not know huma… I mean the English had that skill."

Emily shook her head. "Sometimes you say the strangest things. Do you know that? Just because I am English does not mean I am a weakling."

Cait laughed. "I'd say, after the way you handled that soldier who came after you. It is obvious to everyone here you are no weakling."

"I did not handle Lachlan as efficiently."

"Naturally not. He is laird. He would not be so if he was not stronger than all the others," Cait replied consolingly.

Was that why his kisses had turned her inside out? If it were true, then perhaps Talorc's would be just as powerful, but somehow she could not believe that would be the case.

She was not surprised when Lachlan ordered one of the other soldiers to take her up on his horse for the ride to the castle. After all, now that he had answers to his odious questions, he had no need to touch her. She refused to be bothered by that.

The warrior named Angus put his hand out to her and she smiled at him as she took it for a lift up. He looked confused by her smiling all right and stopped in the act of puffing her onto his horse with a stupefied expression on his face.

She simply waited, wondering how simpleminded were these soldiers that her poor plan was having such success so quickly.

"Angus!"

Lachlan's command snapped the soldier from his reverie and he swung Emily into his lap.

She sat primly forward, but turned to smile up at him once more. "Thank you kindly for allowing me to ride with you."

"He allows nothing. I have ordered it," Lachlan growled.

Emily ignored him, deciding then and there that her campaign to confuse the soldiers with her cheerful countenance would not stretch to their leader. She never wanted to speak to him again.

She faced forward without another word. The trip up the cliff was not as harrowing as the water crossing, but she did give thanks to God more than once that she had no fear of heights. The trail zigzagging up the side of the cliff was barely wide enough for the large war horses, its right side a rock face and the left a sheer drop back down.

Unless there was another path to reach the cliff-top castle, she could not imagine a force of any strength could ever surprise the Balmorals with their arrival, or even make it as far as the castle unless the Balmorals wanted them to.

Cait had been right. There was no way her brother would be able to rescue them once they were inside the castle walls.

When they reached the top of the cliff, they could see the drawbridge was down and so they rode right into the lower bailey before they stopped and dismounted. Men and women wearing the Balmoral plaid looked with open curiosity upon Emily and Cait. They didn't scowl like the Sinclairs had even though Emily knew her dress had to give away her Englishness.

One older woman with a kind face and eyes very like Angus's even came forward. "Who is that you have with you, son?"

"The Balmoral's captive. She's promised to the Sinclair."

"So, we've taken two in retaliation for Susannah, then?" The woman's face creased in a satisfied smile.

"Aye, we have."

Drustan laid a possessive hand on Cait's protruding belly. "Nay, we have taken
three
."

Cait's eyes filled with tears and Emily wanted to smack him.

But keeping with her intent to confuse them, she smiled instead. "I still say it is a poor man who takes his revenge through women and a child."

She'd said the words sweetly, so Drustan's scowl didn't come for two heartbeats after she'd spoken. When it did,
it
was fierce enough to fell the monster werewolves Emily's faraway housekeeper had told her and Abigail so many stories about.

Cait, however, no longer looked ready to cry and that was all Emily wanted. She was shaking her head, her eyes questioning Emily's sanity.

Angus laughed though.

"You find the insult to your brother amusing?" the older woman censured.

"Our laird has said she is English and will therefore have to learn our ways to understand them. I'm inclined to agree."

His mother shook her head. "An insult is an insult, Angus… even to an Englishwoman."

"Enough of this foolish talk." Lachlan's harsh voice came from directly behind Emily. "The priest waits for us up at the keep."

And that was when she learned there was to be a wedding between Cait and Drustan. Immediately.

"But the marriage sacrament is to be spoken in the morning," Emily said, scandalized as she followed the soldiers to the keep. She was still intent on ignoring Lachlan, so she was haranguing Drustan instead. "And Cait cannot go to her wedding without the opportunity to prepare her person. This is too barbaric even for you Balmorals."

"Yon would prefer I took your friend to my bed tonight without making her my wife?" he asked in a lazy drawl that made her want to scream.

"I would prefer you waited until she has had sufficient time to prepare."

"And how long would that be, English?"

"It takes time to organize a wedding… days, weeks even."

"On the contrary, the wedding is already set." Lachlan's voice came from her left, but she refused to look at him.

"Drustan… please, you must reconsider."

"My laird has ordered the wedding take place now. It shall be done."

They had reached the keep and the small group swept into the great hall where a priest did indeed wait near the fireplace. He wore the proper vestments and his expression was kind, but the image of him sent Emily's heart pounding.

Cait did not look similarly affected. Her expression was stoic, but that was a far cry from serene and Emily wished there was something she could do to save her friend.

She was even willing to renege on her promise to herself never to speak to Lachlan again, if it would help. Spinning to face him, she grabbed his arm in urgent appeal. "Please, don't do this. Not tonight. Give her time to… to…"

"To what, English? Waiting will not change her fate."

"But she never even met Drustan before today."

"How many times had you met Talorc before your father sent you here?"

"That is not the same thing. This is not by order of the king. And Talorc did not force the marriage upon my arrival."

"He would if he had wanted to bed you."

Emily reeled back from the brutal crudity of the words, but she could not allow herself to become overset. She had to keep fighting for Cait's welfare. "Nevertheless—"

"Enough," he said, cutting her off. "If you do not cease this tirade, I will have you taken to the tower before the wedding takes place."

Emily's mouth snapped closed on another argument. She was Cait's only friend present. She had to stay. With that thought in mind, she went to stand by Cait's side.

Cait did not look at her, but she squeezed Emily's hand as if to tell her she was glad she was there. Then she clasped her own hands in front of her, her mouth set in a firm line. Drustan took his place on the other side of Cait and Lachlan moved to stand beside him. Angus and the older woman who had spoken outside stood nearby. Everyone in the hall grew silent.

The priest began the marriage sacrament with the right words, but Emily could not help feeling it was sacrilegious to speak them in the evening rather than the morning. Was the marriage valid if the procedure dictated by Rome was not followed to the letter?

She prayed for the sake of her friend's soul that it was.

Drustan spoke his vows in a firm voice, but when it came time to speak her vows, Cait remained mute. The priest repeated his question, but Cait acted as if she had not heard.

Emily did not blame her. In fact, it was a clever plan. According to the laws of the Church, a marriage could be annulled if both parties did not enter into it willingly.

Frowning, Drustan took Cait by the shoulders and turned her to face him. "You will be mine regardless of what you do here."

Face averted, Cait shrugged, but Emily could see the tension in her friend's body.

The priest looked to Lachlan for instruction.

Lachlan looked at Drustan. Drustan crossed his arms, his intent clear. He would not budge on his stand.

Emily was proud of Cait's strength of purpose, but it worried her. Better to be wedded before being bedded, or so Sybil had always said. Emily didn't make it a habit to agree with her stepmother, but in this case… she did. And after the kiss she'd witnessed on the boat between Cait and Drustan, she had no doubt just where Cait was going to end up sleeping this night.

Lachlan crossed his arms over his broad chest, his expression bored. "The priest will speak the blessing over you on my say so."

The holy man winced, but nodded.

Cait did nothing… said nothing.

"I prefer her to speak her vows. I am content to keep her without the benefit of marriage until she does so."

"No," Emily gasped, but no one paid her any heed.

Lachlan considered Cait for several long minutes of silence. "Very well, until you speak your vows to my soldier and bind yourself to him willingly and forever, the English woman will warm my bed."

Blackness washed over Emily and it was all she could do to remain standing. "You lied again," she whispered.

But he heard her. So did everyone else from the reaction she received, but she didn't care. The soldiers could glare all they liked and the priest might as well stop looking like she'd spoken a blasphemy. Lachlan of the Balmoral was no god to be blasphemed, no matter what the arrogant man might think.

"My patience with your insults grows thin."

"And I have no patience at all with your lies," she said, her voice stronger now, though her knees still felt wobbly.

"Tell me when I lied."

"You said you would not allow anyone to keep me."

He had the audacity to shake his head at her.

She scowled and nodded right back. "Yes, you did."

"I said I would not let any of my soldiers keep you."

"But—"

"I made no promise not to keep you myself."

"You can't," Cait said, her voice laced with shock. "If you do, Talorc will consider her mated to you and he will refuse to marry her."

"He has already refused."

"But he will come around."

Lachlan didn't even bother to shrug, but the dismissal of that paltry consideration was written into his very stance. He did not care about her future… only about getting his own way. He wanted his vengeance and he would not be denied.

"Emily, I…" Cait looked like she was ready to cry again.

Emily soothed her as best she could. "Do not worry about me. I will be all right," she lied with what was left of her courage.

But Cait shook her head. "No. You will be ruined… you'll be mated to him. They don't see it that way here… Susannah told us, but the Sinclairs will. I'm sure your English father will."

"You mean if Drustan takes you to his bed, he will not see himself committed to you?" Emily asked.

"Of course he is committed to her. What do you think the priest is for?" Lachlan asked with obvious exasperation.

Emily turned on him with fury. "He said he would take her to his bed regardless."

"He wants her promise."

"And you… all you want is your own way."

His dark brow rose.

Emily opened her mouth, but did not know what to say. She did not want to be the lever used to force Cait into marriage, but she was also worried for her friend's virtue. Regardless, she would not lend her voice to the others in putting pressure on her friend.

She snapped her mouth shut and turned away.

"I will speak my vows."

"Not on my account," Emily said fiercely, grabbing her friend's arm.

Cait shook her head. "It is an empty gesture to refuse." She sighed, her shoulders slumped. "As I said, my clan sees the physical act of joining as a lifelong commitment. My brother will consider me mated regardless of what words I speak here."

"But you do not want to promise your loyalty to Drustan, do you?"

She finally understood why Cait wanted to avoid saying her vows regardless of Drustan's threat.

"No, but even if I do not say the words… I will belong to the Balmoral clan come sunrise. According to the laws of my people, I will belong to Drustan."

It wasn't right, but it was the way of the world. It only shocked Emily that Cait claimed the Balmoral clan did not see it as such. Well, without the wedding… an Englishman could walk away from a woman he had compromised as well. Was Cait saying that a Sinclair could not?

It was all very confusing, but one thing was clear. Cait was not happy about speaking her vows.

Drustan did not look too happy either. In fact, he looked downright mean. He grasped Cait's shoulders and turned her to face him again. "Becoming my wife is not a punishment."

"I know," Cait whispered, shocking Emily and making Lachlan grunt with approval.

Drustan's green gaze softened. "I will care for you and watch over you and your bairn."

At mention of the babe, Cait shook her head.

Drustan sighed and pulled her closer. "Yes. You will learn to trust me, lass."

Then, before Cait could argue again, he kissed her. This time Emily did not watch. She turned her head away, but could not help noticing the tiny sounds of pleasure her friend made.

After what seemed like a very long time, Drustan spoke, "Repeat the vows for my mate, Father."

The priest repeated them and Cait spoke her responses in a dreamy voice that gave Emily her first true smile in a long while. Cait did not like having her decision made for her, but she was not averse to marrying Drustan. Not really. And truly, it was no worse than when Talorc had informed Cait on the day of her first wedding that she was to be given to one of his soldiers. That had been no great love match from what Emily could tell.

A woman's lot was not an easy one, but Cait could do worse than to marry a strong man who had not resorted to violence to
get
his way.

They celebrated the wedding with a toast before Lachlan instructed his brother to escort Emily to the east tower.

"Can she not stay with us?" Cait begged Drustan, then turned to Lachlan. "You cannot truly mean to lock her in a tower?"

"Do not question your laird," Drustan said before Lachlan got a chance to answer.

"He's not my laird."

"As of fifteen minutes ago, he is."

"But—"

"There is only one bed in our quarters."

"Emily can sleep in it with me."

"I will be in it with you and we will not be sleeping," Drustan said in a voice that made Emily embarrassed to hear it.

Cait looked at Emily with an apology in her eyes.

"It is all right. Truly. I am happy to go to the tower. You must not worry about me."

The older woman who had approached them in the bailey came forward and put her hand on Cait's arm, nodding to her son. "I am Moira, mother to Drustan, Angus and Susannah. Welcome to our family, child." Moira looked at Emily then. "You are English."