The Highlander's Outlaw Bride (10 page)

“Still none who would dare challenge ye,” she retorted bitterly, musing over Gavin’s words and actions.

“Nae, a smart man willnae. I may revise my opinion of the Douglases yet.”

“Dinnae insult these men. They have risked much to do what I asked of them.”

“Their goal was the same as yers.”

“Mayhap, but they swore their lives to me.”

“All of Morven will be yers.”

Brianna’s eyes lit with anger. “Nae.”

Conn ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Why do ye not accept this marriage?”

“I have told ye. I dinnae wish to marry. My place is at Wyndham.”

“I want ye back in my arms where ye were three nights ago.”

Brianna lifted her chin, her eyes glittering with warning. “That night was a mistake. If ye persist in this, I will make yer life a living hell.”

Chapter 12

Dundonald Castle, a sennight later

Brianna tugged the girth strap on Maude’s saddle, fitting it tight around the mare’s belly. A low whine caught her attention. In the doorway to the stall, a young collie sat, his tail sweeping the straw. Brianna crossed to the pup and squatted before him. She patted his shiny black head and got a lick from his broad pink tongue in return.

“Ye are a right pest, aye, lad?” She ruffled his ears affectionately. “I dinnae bring ye a treat today. My mind was elsewhere.”

His tail beat faster and he whimpered as he wiggled against Brianna.

“I wish I could take ye with me. I am in need of a fine herding dog such as ye.”

“He likes ye, m’lady.”

Brianna looked up, recognizing the kennel master’s voice. “He has followed me around the stable the past few days. He seems to be a good lad.”

The man rubbed his whiskery chin. “I wondered where he’d been. Of all his littermates, he is the trouble-maker. Not destructive, mind ye, just smart as a whip and always off doing things on his own.”

Brianna rose, giving the pup a last pat. He leapt to his feet and slid around her, peering at his master from behind her skirts.

“He is a collie, aye?”

The kennel master grinned, warming to his subject. “Aye, m’lady. From a very noble and hard-working line. His dam can gather up a flock of sheep quicker than a virgin—er, before I can give the signals. And his sire is tireless herding cattle. Doesnae back down from even the toughest auld besom, yet nearly lost his life keeping a newborn warm out in a winter storm two years ago.”

“I could use a dog like that. Mine died suddenly several weeks ago. Do ye know if the pup is for sale?”

“Tam, here? Och, ye dinnae want him. He is too independent and willnae listen. Ask the king’s man about one of his littermates. At nearly eight months old, they are already well ahead on their training. They will make excellent herders.”

Brianna considered the man’s words carefully. “I thank ye. I will speak to the king’s man about this.”

Ducking his head in a respectful gesture, the man took a step toward her, opening the noose on the end of a narrow rope. He pulled up short, puzzled. “Now, where has the beast run off to this time?”

Leaving him scratching his head in bewilderment, Brianna mounted her horse and set about their daily routine. Careful to keep close to the castle wall, she put Maude through her paces, bleeding off some of the energy the mare collected each day with nothing to do but stand in her stall and munch the king’s hay.

* * *

Two days later, she tied her bags behind her saddle, distracted as she listened for the soft footfalls of the pup who had become her companion around the stable. He had been absent the day before, and the king’s man had nothing new to tell her about selling the dog, though he assured her he’d brought it to the king’s attention. Today, however, she was leaving Dundonald, and she regretted not asking the king herself.

She patted the bags, taking a mental inventory of their contents. She’d arrived with almost nothing, and was leaving with more than she’d imagined. The traveling dress she wore was a gift, her maid told her, as was the heavy woolen plaide she would sleep on each night. She also carried a water skin and oatcakes should she grow hungry along the way. In the second bag was an ewer of beaten gold, inlaid with silver chasing and precious stones, given to her by the king as a wedding gift at the banquet two nights earlier.

She’d received a second gift as well. Wrapped in gauze and placed in a soft leather pouch was a sapphire pendant, the stone bound in silver filigree, a gift from her husband-to-be. The pendant, as beautiful as it was, had been pushed to the bottom of the bag. She’d no desire to wear jewelry marking her as the man’s possession. Its worth was in the coin it would bring when she sold it. The money, which would buy her people a goodly supply of grain this winter, was of far greater value to her. Conn might or might not agree, but she would worry about that later.

There was nothing left to delay her. It was time to leave Dundonald and the king’s protection. Time to look to her new future and make something good of it. She stepped into the saddle and rode from the stable, ducking her head as she passed beneath the portal. Outside, the others were already mounted, waiting for her. The kennel master stood to the side, a black and white puppy at his side.

She nudged Maude over to him. “What is the word on the pup?”

A half-grin pulled the man’s mouth to one side. “The steward bade me gift ye with the pup of yer choice. Do ye still want young Tam, or would another suit ye better?”

“This is the lad I want.”

“Then St. Francis smile upon ye. He will make a fine dog—once he outgrows his mischievous ways.”

He handed the leather lead to Brianna with a small salute. She thanked him and looped the soft leather about the pommel of her saddle. The young dog rose to his feet, tail pluming gently.

“Are ye ready, milady?” Conn asked.

She met his gaze. “Aye.”

* * *

Brianna stiffened as Conn dropped beside her on the log she used as a seat, his trencher full of oatcakes and roasted rabbit. Her own plate still held most of her own meager meal. Since facing the prospect of marriage to Laird MacLaurey, her appetite had declined noticeably. She set her supper on the ground beside her and nudged it back. Tam, lying behind her, made short work of it.

Tonight they were miles away from Troon and she no longer had the people of Dundonald Castle as a buffer between herself and Conn. And right now he sat entirely too close for her comfort, their truce before the king far from resolved. She scooted once away from his bulk and eyed him warily as he casually licked his fingers. “What are ye doing?” she asked.

Conn glanced at her, his eyes overly wide in feigned surprise. “Why, enjoying yer company, of course.”

“Why?” Her tone was blunt, challenging.
Why are ye so persistent? Do ye not understand I dinnae like what ye have done to my life?

Conn sighed. “Because the king distinctly told us to do so.”

Brianna’s eyes widened in alarm and she shook her head. “He said no such thing.” She racked her memory in an effort to recall King Robert’s words. It had been more than a week since he had surprised her with his response to her petition and subsequent reinstatement of her betrothal. She came up empty.

Conn rubbed a hand down the fabric of his kilt and gave her a sideways look. “Yer skill in avoiding me even when the king commanded us to spend time together bordered on insult. Rude behavior is unbecoming and disrespectful.”

Brianna bristled under his high-handed, unwelcome tutelage. “Ye follow me around, leaving me little breathing space, disregarding my wishes on matters, and still ye harp on
my
insolence.”

“A man needs his wife’s respect.”

Brianna shot daggers at him. “Few men deserve it. Most men I know demand their respect through loud, angry voices and brutish actions. I willnae be commanded to respect any man. He must earn it.”

Cocking his head to the side, Conn stared at her. “Would ye care to tell me how to earn such regard?”

She gave a mirthless laugh. “I willnae give ye some formula for it. It should flow freely between two people, not as a list to be checked off as a meaningless job well met.”

“Aye, it should be a mutual thing. Could I, then, tempt ye into a walk so we can discuss this further?” He set his now-empty plate aside and stood, stretching his hand to her. She stared at the proffered limb as though it might bite, and slowly raised her dubious gaze to his. His unwavering stare was perilously close to a command. She lifted her chin in defiance. Conn sighed.

“Dinnae be obstinate, Brianna. Things could go much better between us if ye just admitted ye liked me. Even a bit.”

“What on earth makes ye think I like ye?”

Conn’s arrogance showed no limits as he prodded her memory. “Ye were soft in my arms as we rode the roads, seeking yer men. Ye were pliant beneath me before we said our goodbyes beside the burn.” His smile turned teasing. “And, if memory serves, the king’s words were for us to enjoy each other’s company of the duration of our travel home. I believe he
wants
us to like each other.”

Her lips twitched, but she did not give in to the urge to smile. “Like each other? I distinctly remember saying I hated ye. Liking ye would be a bit of a stretch.”

“Come with me, Brianna.” He made a small motion with his hand, his voice deceptively soft. Brianna eyed him suspiciously, not trusting his intentions. Finally, seeing no way to avoid it without being accused of being disrespectful yet again, she rose from her seat, though she pointedly refused Conn’s proffered hand. Tam nosed the empty trencher once more, then curled up for a nap with a contented sigh. Brianna glanced at the tired pup before turning back to Conn.

“Well?” she demanded testily as he made a leisurely perusal of her person.

He grinned at her unrepentantly, not bothering to apologize for ogling her. Instead, he swept his arm forward, indicating she precede him down the narrow trail leading to a small glade where water bubbled cheerfully over smooth stones.

“’Tis a bit more private here. I would like to talk to ye without being interrupted or overheard.”

“If ye think I will succumb to yer charms here by the burn simply because I lost my head once before, ye are sadly mistaken.”

“Nae. Ye have adequately informed me of yer intentions. I would not take ye without ye full willing.”

“That confident, are ye, that ye will get an heir from me? Conn, even if things were better between us, I was married nearly a year and dinnae conceive a bairn. All yer bold boasts to the contrary, I think ye are daft to believe I could bear ye, or anyone else, children.”

Conn scowled. “Nae. No one else. Yer children will be mine, and no other’s.”

Brianna flung her hands into the air. “What do ye not understand? I dinnae want to wed. I dinnae believe I can bear children. Ye want to wed. Ye want children. Can ye not spare us the misery and ask to be released from this?”

“I dinnae wish to be released from the betrothal. The king has signed it himself. Ye know what ye stand to lose if ye disobey.”

Brianna fought to keep from pulling out her hair at his stubbornness. “Ye prattle of honor and duty, and what I stand to lose if I dinnae obey. But what will benefit me if I agree? Will I be allowed to stay at Wyndham, help govern it until Jamie is old enough to do so, keep my da from destroying everything? My clan and my brother mean more to me than anything, and no matter my choice, I will lose it all.”

“Ye will marry me, Brianna Douglas. An arrangement can be made for Wyndham’s government. But like it or not, we will marry at the king’s pleasure in two weeks’s time, and ye will be my wife.”

“I dinnae want a marriage to someone I dinnae trust. Our short time together is built on lies and little else.”

Conn shrugged. “I did ask yer name.”

“I was hunted by the sheriff for reiving. As a lord’s daughter, I am also a target for ransom. I had no reason to trust ye with my name.”

“Would ye trust me now?”

Brianna clenched her teeth and dropped her gaze. “I cannae.” Clutching her plaide about her against the cold, she retraced her steps to their camp.

* * *

Gavin’s frown warned the Douglas soldiers’ attention from Brianna as she marched through the campsite, head high, dark stains upon her cheeks. His gaze did not waver as Conn stepped through the group moments later, running a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner.

“She is likely bedded down with Maude.” Gavin rose and stepped toward Conn, his movement turning them away from the other men’s hearing. He jerked his head toward the horses’ picket line, ignoring Conn’s hostile glare. “She has always been partial to her horse’s company. Especially when something has upset her.”

Conn started to push past him, but Gavin stopped him with a raised hand. “’Tis how I knew where to find her the other night. ’Twas no liaison between us. I have known her since she was a wee lass. She had no one to turn to these past years since her ma died and her da became a drunkard in his sorrow. She willnae thank me for saying this, but her previous husband and her da’s behavior has left her with little need for men, and little respect for them, either.”