The Highlander's Accidental Bride (12 page)

Eaden furiously paced the floor, his stride pounding out his anger. Wordless, Mary stood in the middle of the room, staring at the rushes covering the cold stone. He could tell she was tired. Her shoulders sagged and she’d shuffled her feet more than once.

“What were ye doing outside the castle walls without an escort?” Eaden’s voice sounded harsh, even to him, but at least he’d managed to keep from shouting.

Mary raised her face to his and sighed. “I was at the river with the children.”

“Without an escort!” It was no use. He shouted at her. Shouting
was
better than grabbing her and shaking her, though his hands itched to do just that. “Ye gave me yer word ye would no’ leave the castle without an escort.” He bit back the rest of his words and turned on his heel, coming to a stop as he shoved his hands through his hair, making clumps of it stand out on his head. “Ye could have been killed, Mairi.”

“They did not know who I was.”

“It dinnae matter. Any lass bold enough to stop in the path and stare down four armed riders, isna the cobbler’s wife.”

“They were from Bellecourt. I saw their colors.” Her mouth tightened in a mutinous line. “No matter what you think of them, they are not evil. They would not hurt me.”

“They dinnae know ye,” Eaden mocked, throwing her words back at her. He sighed deeply and leaned his shoulders against the wall. “I should have told ye Ian was watching the Barde’s men. They have been lingering on the border for two days.”

“I would not have gone to the river had I known. But there was no indication from the guards we should not leave the castle.”

“They were no’ yet on alert.” Eaden pushed away from the wall and stepped to Mary. “Ye dinnae understand, Mairi. I could see ye from the wall.” He brushed an errant strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind one ear. “I watched the wee bairn fall, and ye behind her. It made my bowels turn to water, watching ye offer yerself to those bastards who nearly ran ye down.”

“I had to get Ailie away,” Mary whispered. “Can you not understand?”

“I understand, lass. D’
ye
understand what I’m telling ye?”

Mary nodded slowly. “You’re yelling at me because I frightened you.”

He took her face in his hands. “Dinnae do that to me again.”

“But I saved the children.”

Eaden folded her in his arms. “Aye. Ye saved the children.”

He held her against him for a long moment, savoring the warmth of her in his arms. He closed his eyes against the memory of the riders who had managed, with a rare feat of horsemanship, to rein their horses away from the tangle of woman, dog and children blocking their path. The ice in Eaden’s veins began to thaw. For their skill alone, the men of Bellecourt would live this day.

“Ye won the favor of many who’d no’ expected such a sacrifice from a Barde clanswoman,” he informed her, his mouth against her hair.

“They are children of Craigievar. With our vows and my body, you have made them my children as well.”

“Well said, Mairi, love. Well said.”

A knock on the door caught Eaden’s attention and he glanced up. “Aye?”

“‘Tis Ian, Laird.”

Eaden released Mary and sat her in the nearest chair. He strode to the door and opened it, motioning for the captain of the guard to enter. Ian ducked his head respectfully in Mary’s direction and paused before Eaden.

“Ye have my most humble apology, Laird.” He dropped his gaze. “An’ my life as well, should ye require it.”

Mary jerked her anxious gaze from Ian to Eaden. “What is he saying?”

“He dinnae protect ye,” Eaden said over his shoulder, not taking his eyes from his captain. “An’ his life is sworn to it.”

“No! You cannot blame him. I commanded him to take the child.”

Eaden crossed his arms over his chest. “He chose to follow yer orders above mine.”

“He had no choice.”

Eaden pinned her with a narrowed gaze. “Ye think Ian couldnae have dragged ye onto his horse and brought ye to the castle?”

Mary returned his look evenly. “No.”

Turning back to Ian, Eaden cocked his head in question. “Well?”

“She’s verra convincing, Laird.”

Eaden stared at Ian for a moment, then released an irritated huff. “Ye offer yer life for hers?”

Mary leapt from her seat. “No! If there is fault here, it is mine.”

“It seems I have no choice, Ian Scott,” Eaden pronounced. “Ye have a gift beyond all others.”

Ian cast his wary gaze between laird and lady. “What is it, Laird?”

Eaden snorted. “Ye have the gift of making my wife admit her mistake. ‘Tis something I’ve no’ witnessed before.”

“You will not punish Ian, will you?” Mary asked in a subdued voice.

“Beyond tasking him with standing guard over our guests for the duration of their stay, no.” Eaden sighed. “He may yet wish he’d taken ye up on his horse without trying to reason with ye.” He nodded to his captain. “Go. I ken the lady well enough to know `twas no fault of yours. Ensure our guests cause no mischief this night.”

With a bow, Ian turned and hurried from the room.

Eaden turned back to his wife. “There is still the issue of leaving the castle without an escort.”

“I understand, now. I will not leave the walls without an escort again.”

“Ye put the children’s lives in danger. There are those who would condemn ye had any harm befallen them.”

“I said I was sorry, and I am.”

“I will let it go this time. But understand ye are under the same laws as the rest of the people of Craigievar.”

“What laws?”

“The laws of discipline. Of punishment should ye continue yer willful ways.” His voice was mild with censure, but his words made Mary flush.

“I am not
willful.”

“Dinnae put others in harm’s way again,” Eaden lectured her sternly, ignoring her protest. “And remember, my men are sworn to protect ye. Dinnae put them at risk, either.”

“Yes, m’laird.” Her tone in direct opposition to the assent of her words, Mary bit her lip and Eaden wondered what she truly wanted to say. Perhaps it best he didn’t ask.

He carefully hid the admiration from his face. Dissatisfied with the lukewarm response he’d coaxed from her in his bed, Eaden longed to warm himself in the fiery spirit she now revealed, reluctant to see it quenched. Instead, he reached into his shirt and retrieved a folded paper.

“This belongs to ye.”

Confused at the change in subject, Mary stared at the letter with the Barde’s seal pressed in the wax. She cast a glance at Eaden. He smiled grimly at her and nodded, motioning with one hand for her to open the folded paper.

“Read it then, lass.”

Excitement ran through her as she reached with suddenly trembling fingers to pick up the missive. She cracked the seal and unfolded the heavy paper, bending her head to read the words.

My darling Mary,

I was so dismayed to hear you were kidnapped by the barbarian Scott! Da did not want to tell me for many days after he found me married to Bennett Melville, but after Bennett and I returned to Bellecourt, I soon found out why you were not here for me.

Oh, my dear Mary. I know you are quite possibly in terror of your new husband, and I wish you’d found a proper husband as I have. I know Bennett is only Melville’s fourth son, but I could never love another as I do him, and Da has been most generous to offer us residence at Bellecourt.

Should you need a haven of succor from the horrors of life and your barbaric husband, you will find your place here at Bellecourt waiting for you.

I miss you, my dearest friend.

Lady Miriam du Melville

Mary spread a hand over the short note as though she could blot the words from the page. Her cheeks blanched cold then flamed with heat. How different would things now be if Miriam’s note had come to her weeks ago? If only she had been assured of her place at Bellecourt. It had hurt unbearably to believe she’d been abandoned by all she’d known, especially her closest friend, with no one to turn to, no place to go. Now she found herself irrevocably bound to the laird by not only her vows, but her body as well, and Miriam’s belated promise of refuge fairly devastated her.

She glanced at Eaden and saw an eyebrow twitch upward with unspoken question. Battling the dismay welling in her, Mary gave a small shrug. The reasons leading to her decision to stay at Scott Castle hadn’t been all bad.

“It is a note from Miriam,” Mary said, her voice gentle but firm.

Eaden grasped her empty hand in his and turned with her to the door. “How does Lady Miriam fare?”

“She is married to Melville’s son and they now reside at Bellecourt Castle.”

“And have ye also been offered residence at Bellecourt?” Eaden’s hand clenched on hers, but the pressure disappeared almost as quickly as it began and Mary couldn’t say if it had been intentional or not.

She cut her gaze toward her husband but he stared straight ahead, his countenance giving away nothing of his thoughts. “Yes. She would like me to return to Bellecourt.”

Would Eaden ask her to stay? Her heart raced, knowing his next words could alter their relationship in possibly irreparable ways. She had tried to show him her decision to stay by accepting her wifely duties, but she had yet to say the words. Having fought him for so long, the surrender came as bittersweet. Trying to judge his reaction proved difficult when his expression remained closed.

Eaden gave a slow nod, but still would not look at her. “Will ye talk to me before ye make yer decision? I would like ye to remain.”

Warmth swept through her and she squeezed Eaden’s hand firmly. His soft words touched her heart. Giving her the letter from Miriam, likely guessing full well what it contained, had also given her the means she’d sought to be free of him.

He doesn’t trust me not to leave him
.

“Yes. I’ll talk to you.” Mary’s voice struggled to dispel the solemn mood.

The look on Eaden’s face, surprise and perhaps relief, caused Mary’s cheeks to flood with heat. She hesitated only the briefest moment before she replied to his silent query.

“Is there still time to make a marriage of this?” Mary’s voice grew hushed, as though repeating her wedding vows to him. This time Eaden’s hand pressing against hers was unmistakable.

“Aye,” he replied, his voice deep and approving. “There is the rest of our lives, an’ should ye wish it.”

Mary smiled. “I do.”

Eaden’s answering smile lit a smoldering fire low in Mary’s belly.

“Where are we going?” Mary asked her husband.

After the morning’s events, Eaden’s invitation for her to join him caused a wave of apprehension to slide up her spine. Nonetheless, she walked at his side, glancing toward the Barde soldiers seated at the lower table in the great hall, well-guarded by Ian and his soldiers.

Eaden turned his head and she was amazed at the transformation on his face. He appeared to have shed years from his countenance and his habitual scowl had vanished. A teasing smile lit his face and his dark hair tumbled unheeded over his forehead.

“We’re invited to visit the king, aye?” His eyes danced with mischief. For a moment Mary felt certain it was Ranald beside her, not his dour brother.

“Yes,” she replied hesitantly.

“And ye cannae ride a horse, aye?”

She shuddered, remembering he’d promised to teach her to ride. Eaden didn’t seem to notice her less than enthusiastic response.

“This afternoon ye learn to ride, Mairi, love.”

Mary bravely swallowed her fear and followed her husband to the stable.

A horse stood tethered outside to a post, head low, one rear foot cocked toe-down on the ground. He seemed harmless enough and Mary took heart. Ranald approached from the barn, saddle and bridle slung over one arm. With smooth efficiency, Eaden tacked up the horse, jerking firmly on the leather girth before tying it off. Mary hung back a couple of steps, eying the steed warily.

“There’s no need to worry about this lad,” Eaden said cheerfully. “He’s much too placid to cause ye any trouble.” He motioned for her to approach. She hesitantly stretched out her hand to touch the bright red coat.

“Dinnae be so cautious, love. Horses can sense an’ ye are afraid.” Mary jerked back and Eaden hastily added, “Now, Starnie, here, is the exception. He’s gentle enough for bairns to ride.”

Giving the beast a cautious glance, Mary stroked the horse’s shoulder, watching warily for the first sign of ill-temper. Starnie swished his tail lazily at a fly, but otherwise made no move.

After a moment she offered Eaden a pleased smile. “He’s nice. How do I begin?”

“Watch me. I want ye to learn to ride astride. Later ye can learn to ride sidesaddle if ye’d like. But I want ye sturdy in the saddle and confident, first.”

“Astride? Like a man?” Mary’s eyebrows flew upwards in shock.

“Aye. But a wee, beautiful one, forbye.”

She searched his face and saw unexpected humor lurking there. His eyes twinkled and his lips twitched as he fought the smile.

She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and gave him a stern look. “Are you jesting me?”

“Nay, lass. I’d no’ jest. But I’d rather have ye safe than fashionable. Now watch.”

Eaden turned to Starnie and gripped the reins in his left hand, murmuring something soothing to the horse. Mary smiled. Starnie didn’t appear to need any calming; any more at ease and the beast would surely fall asleep.

“Are ye watching, Mairi?” Eaden asked, glancing at her over his shoulder. Mary shifted her attention from the horse and glanced up and down Eaden’s length, wondering if she had missed something in the past few seconds. The muscles in his shoulders bunched beneath the fabric of his shirt and she suddenly remembered the ropey feel of them beneath her hands. She quickly looked away, clenching her fists to tame the tingle in her palms.

“Yes,” she replied, surprised to hear the breathless quality to her voice, wondering if Eaden had noticed. Lifting her eyes to his, she met his speculative look and ducked her head to mask the heat rising in her cheeks.

Eaden didn’t bother to hide his grin at Mary’s discomfiture. He damped down his reaction to the sound of her voice and turned back to the lesson at hand.

“Grasp the reins in yer left hand and place yer right on the back of the saddle.” Eaden demonstrated. “Then place yer left foot in the stirrup and step up and into the saddle.” With fluid grace Eaden suited action to his words, settling easily. He stared at her from his mounted height.

“‘Tis no’ difficult, ye know, lass. And Starnie hasnae even shifted his weight. He willnae even feel ye on his back. Are ye ready to try?”

Mary started to nod, but a fury of barking and motion snatched her attention away. From her right, a sturdy chicken half-flew, half-ran in her direction, apparently escaped from its pen. Wings held at angles from its body, its head tilted forward as it fled the dog mere inches behind it. The dog barked savagely at its prey, causing feathers to fly. Suddenly the chicken darted to the right, directly beneath Starnie who threw his head up with a piercing squeal.

In rapid sequence the chicken sped beneath the horse, the dog skidded in the dirt to maintain his hunt, and Starnie lashed out a rear hoof with deadly accuracy. A resounding thud and resulting yelp of pain stopped the chase abruptly, and the chicken fled back to his pen, safe, at least for the moment.

Eaden, barely disturbed by the ruckus, rolled smoothly with the shift of Starnie’s kick. In the instant it took for the horse to settle, he peered around him, seeking the cause of the commotion. With a sigh he noted the bare end of the fleeing chicken and turned to see the young dog slinking away, pausing once to shake its head.

But Mary lay in a heap on the ground.

Eaden dove from the saddle and Starnie jostled easily to counter the move. At Mary’s side, Eaden searched frantically for an injury, battling back gut-wrenching fear. Had Starnie’s hoof caught more than the thick skull of the dog? It wasn’t possible Mary had been close enough to have been hurt in the melee.

“D’ye want me to fetch a burnt feather to rouse her?”

Eaden glanced at Ranald. His brother’s face blanched pale with worry.

“Nay. I’ll carry her inside the stable until she rouses. I dinnae think she’s hurt.”

Gathering her limp form in his arms, Eaden rose to his feet. Ranald hurried to open the double doors of the stable and Eaden claimed a bench halfway down the hall. Wide-eyed stares marked their entrance, but Ranald sent the stable lads scurrying outside with a jerk of his head.

Eaden sat carefully, Mary cradled in his arms. He reached one hand to smooth tumbled curls from her face.

“Wheesht, now, lass. Dinnae frighten me so.” He slid the back of his hand down her cheek, silently urging color in the pale skin.

Suddenly Mary stirred and both Eaden and Ranald breathed a sigh of relief. The moment was short-lived, however, as her hand shot upward, grasping the front of Eaden’s shirt in an unyielding grip.

“Don’t kill him!” she sobbed.

Eaden drew back, aiming a puzzled look at his brother. “Dinnae fash, Mairi.” Eaden pulled her against his chest as he ran a gentling hand up and down her back. “No one is being killed. I’ll no’ let any harm come to him.”

“Who is she talking about?” Ranald asked, his voice an undertone. Eaden shrugged in confusion and continued to croon words of comfort and assurance. Finally, she subsided into soft sobs.

“What could she be so upset about? Both the dog and the chicken got away. A bit fashed, but mayhap wiser. And Starnie is most likely catching a snooze outside right about now.”

Eaden shook his head, careful not to dislodge Mary who had relaxed bonelessly against him. He gently eased her into a more upright position. “Mairi, lass. Talk to me, Mairi.” He jostled her gently.

Mary glanced around her. “What happened?”

“Ye fainted. I brought ye in here away from the stramash outside.”

Her cheeks flushed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Lass, ‘tis nay yer fault. But I would like to know what frightened ye so.”

Mary looked away. “I don’t remember.”

Eaden rubbed a hand up and down her back again, trying to comfort her. “I think ye do. And I want ye to tell me what it was.”

“I can’t.”

Eaden almost relented. But the memory of seeing her lying senseless on the ground beneath his horse’s hooves stabbed through him, and he pushed. “Tell me, Mairi. Ye’re a brave lass, and I willnae let it hurt ye again.”

Her muscles tensed beneath his hands and he tightened his grip, afraid she might bolt and run. She stared into the distance, but Eaden could tell she did not see the wooden stalls or the horses’ heads peeking over the open half-doors. Her eyes appeared unfocused and she gripped his arm painfully, her knuckles white.

“He killed Miriam’s pony.” Her voice was a mere whisper of sound and Eaden leaned closer to hear the words. “His name was ‘Prince’ and he was the most beautiful pony in the world. We were barely old enough for a pony, but Miriam begged her da. We took turns grooming him and feeding him, and we loved him dearly.”

Eaden cupped his hand at the nape of her neck, kneading the tense muscles, letting her tell the tale in her own time.

“Miriam was riding. She was so proud of what she’d learned, but Prince wasn’t acting his best. She lost her temper and slapped his rump with her hand. He bucked and threw her to the ground.” Mary’s voice dropped again. “I thought she was dead.”

Eaden felt her tremble and he gathered her close, rocking her back and forth in his lap. “Wheesht, lass. I’m here.”

Mary seemed to regain her composure and struggled to sit up. “Prince raced around the paddock. A groom grabbed his reins, but before he could lead him away, Laird Barde stormed over. His face was black with rage. He snatched a dagger from his belt and I thought he meant to cut the reins free . . .”

Mary’s voice choked on a sob and Eaden saw tears stream down her face. “He slashed Prince’s throat. Blood spurted everywhere and I choked on the smell of it. Prince screamed and I listened to the horrible gurgling sounds as he died.”

Eaden could do little else but hold her as she cried. His gaze met Ranald’s bleak look and he wanted nothing more than to slit the throat of the loathsome man who’d committed such an atrocious act before a young child.

Slowly Mary’s sobs eased and she pushed herself into a sitting position, brushing at the tears with her hands. “I’m sorry. I hadn’t remembered it in a very long time.”

“Probably no’ since it happened, though ye’ve most likely had nightmares ye couldnae recall. Starnie squealed and kicked the
glaikit
dog. The sounds must have been enough to jerk ye back to that day.” Eaden cupped Mary’s face in his hands. “Small wonder ye were afraid of horses.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “`Twill never happen again.”

“But I want to learn to ride,” Mary insisted as they left the stable. “I don’t want to go back inside.”

Eaden rubbed the back of his neck in frustration. “But ye fainted, lass.”

“I was frightened, not hurt.”

“Ye’re a stubborn lass, I’ll give ye that.” He turned to Ranald. “Bring Starnie back outside. Lady Scott wants to be a’ridin’.”

Sketching a jaunty salute to his good-sister, Ranald turned the horse back through the stable doors. Mary walked up to the animal who eyed her benignly as she stroked his neck. “You’re a good one,” she crooned. “You and I will get along fine.”

“Take the reins like I showed ye and get yer balance.” Eaden placed his right hand on hers and set it on the back of the saddle. “Now, yer left foot, good. Step up and there ye go!”

She could barely reach the stirrup, and bounced once on her right foot before she got enough momentum to scramble up the horse’s side. She landed on her belly, not quite high enough to reach the saddle’s seat. Eaden planted a hand on her bottom and boosted her the rest of the way. He chuckled at Mary’s gasp of surprise as she landed in the saddle and turned to look at him.

“How does it feel?” he asked, a wicked quirk at the corner of his mouth. Her eyes widened and she shifted in the saddle. “To be riding. Not to have my hand on yer arse. Though ye could tell me if ye please,” he drawled, liking the way her skin pinked in embarrassment.

“I’m not riding, I’m sitting,” she responded loftily.

“Then pick up yer reins, lass, and ride.”

Eaden grasped Starnie’s reins beneath the shank of the bit and led the docile horse to the paddock beside the stable. He was pleased to find Mary a quick learner. Now that she’d apparently shed her fear, her natural affinity for animals helped her to respond to Eaden’s instructions, and soon she rode confidently around the worn path on the inside of the paddock rails.

“Ranald! Bring Duff out.” A few minutes later Ranald led Eaden’s horse from the stable, tacked and ready to ride.

He gave the girth on Duff’s saddle a quick tug, pulling the slack out of the soft leather. Gathering his reins, he stepped effortlessly into the saddle and turned to his wife. “Come along, Mairi. ‘Tis time to further yer education.”

He grinned to see the bemusement on Mary’s face. Whistling, he kicked Duff forward.