X Marks the Scot (13 page)

Liadain sat and watched the glowing embers of their fire fade into its molten depths. What a day this had been, and not exactly as she had expected. She wrapped her arms tighter around her knees, placing her chin on top. With a deep, resigned sigh, she closed her eyes. MacGregor’s words still stung.

Robert had been the first man to ever pay her any heed. Granted, she had been young and perhaps a bit inexperienced, but that did not give MacGregor the right to judge her for sins of the past. One would think he, of all men, would recognize that fact. She did not even believe a count could be tallied for the endless number of women the rogue had bedded.

Lifting her head, she cast him a glance. He slept with his back toward her, without a care in the world, and his gentle rhythmic breathing fired her ire even more. While his spiteful words continued to repeat in her mind, her husband was obviously unaffected by their prior exchange.

“We ride in a few short hours. ’Tis best that ye rest and close your eyes, healer.”

Liadain jumped at the sound of his deep voice. With exaggerated movements, she turned her back to him, lying upon her woolen blanket with annoyance.

When sunlight drifted into her eyes, she squinted, not looking forward to the start of another long day. She should have made more of an effort to sleep. Her body and mind protested and were fatigued.

“The horses have been watered and the embers are out. Are ye going to rise soon, or will ye sleep all day?” MacGregor stood with his arms folded over his chest, casting a look of disapproval upon her. “Didnae I tell ye to sleep? Ye appear as though ye were up all night.”

What an astute observation—one she wasn’t about to openly agree with. She pulled herself to her feet and folded her blanket. “Pray excuse me but a moment,” she murmured as she moved into the trees.

“Watch out for the snakes,” he called after her.

She stopped suddenly and stiffened. “Ye are truly a beast.” A very male chuckle responded from several feet behind her.

When she returned from seeing to her personal needs, the man stood head to head with her horse. Silently, his lips moved. Her husband appeared to actually be conversing with the animal. Upon her approach, he stepped away from her mount.

At a last-moment attempt to gain peace between them, she reached out and touched his arm. “Might I have a word with ye?”

He shrugged.

She fingered the straps on her bundle. “We cannae continue on this destructive path. I know ye didnae want to take me to wife, but we nay longer have a choice. King James willed it and ’tis done.”

Not wanting to provoke him into another argument, she closed her eyes and continued to speak in a soft, even tone. “I want ye to know that I thought I loved Robert. I truly did.” A hushed stillness enveloped them and she did not dare glance into his judging eyes. “Robert promised we would be wed, and aye, I gave him my innocence with the understanding that he was to be my husband. I willnae apologize and ye have nay right to lash out at me with such harshness. I am sorrowful that as your wife I am nae chaste, but I am nay whore. Robert is the only man I ever…”

Meeting his gaze, she stood to her full height. “I cannae change the past, nay matter how much I wish upon it. I was naught to Archie and Robert. I donna want to be the same to ye. I donna think I was mistaken when ye and I were once able to speak without hurtful words between us. I only wish ye would somehow find it within yourself to treat me with respect. Nay matter your feelings toward me, I am still your wife.”

***

“Ye are right. I didnae want this.” Declan smiled tenderly. “But…I have nay right to treat or speak to ye as such. My apologies. My words were spoken in anger. I know ye also didnae seek this marriage.” He lifted the healer onto her mount before she had a chance to protest.

When he pondered his actions and words of last eve, he was not proud. He had been aware of that fact as soon as the scathing remarks left his mouth. When her eyes had welled with tears, his heart had sunk. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than to embrace his wife and retract his hostile words, but it was too late.

His brothers were right. Sometimes he was an idiot, never considering the consequences of his actions. His mother would not have tolerated such treatment of a woman, and he silently prayed she was not looking down upon him now. Though he certainly made more than his share of mistakes, disparaging lasses was not among them. He knew he had been wrong and that irked him.

They rode for some time, and when Declan realized the only sound between them was coming from their mounts’ hoofbeats, he knew he needed to make more of an effort. Well, any attempt would be better than his actions the day before.

“What is it, healer? I can see the worried expression upon your brow.”

“Do ye think Rosalia’s mother and Lord Dunnehl will travel to Glenorchy?”

“I donna know, but it troubles me. Lady Armstrong willingly beds the man who killed her husband.”

“Surely ye donna think they…”

“Naught would surprise me. According to Rosalia, her mother would do anything for coin and status. The woman watched her husband die at the hand of Dunnehl, lass. Tell me, what woman would stand by and do naught, and then take her leave freely with such a man? The two are a perfect match. Their greed will be their undoing.”

She nodded. “Aye, I believe that. Ye see the lengths Archie attempted for such power, which ultimately led to his untimely demise.”

“Your brother became careless—killing a clansman to fire Ciaran’s ire and break the king’s command.” Declan did not intend for his tone to sound so harsh. He cast a sideways glance and smiled. “My father always said to ne’er let your anger guide ye without thought.”

She returned his smile. “A wise man.”

He nodded. “Aye, the wisest.”

“What became of your father?”

“A few years after my mother’s passing, he fell ill with the ague. He didnae suffer long.”

“And what of your mother? How did she handle three lads under her roof?”

“She was a verra compassionate soul,” he said, fond memories flooding him with emotion.

“My apologies if ye donna want to speak of your mother.”

“And what of your clan?” he asked.

“’Tisnae much to tell. My mother died when I was verra young. I can barely remember her. And Father ne’er seemed to mind her absence. Then again, he and Archie paid me nay heed.”

He smiled with compassion. “My brothers and I are verra close. Being by yourself must have been difficult for ye.”

She shook her head. “Nay. They left me to my own devices and I was thankful. I took to healing. I grew herbs and plants, and was able to aid the sick. I enjoyed that verra much. If Archie and my father had been watchful over me, I ne’er would have been able to move about so freely or to do what I wanted.”

“Aye, but it sounds lonely.”

“At times, but I was able to assist the villagers and they became my second kin. It was my privilege to be able to offer remedies for their ailments. I take pleasure in aiding the less fortunate.”

Of course she did. Declan had known there was something special about the healer the moment she agreed to help his clan. She was…kind. Everything he was not.

***

Finally, at least they were able to speak civil words between them. Perhaps this marriage would not be as dreadful as Liadain had initially thought. She needed to keep the conversation moving in the right direction.

“Will we be traveling to Glenorchy first or to Castle Campbell?” she asked as she wiped the sweat from the back of her neck.

“Glenorchy. I must speak with Ciaran.”

“Of course,” she murmured, trying to keep the concern out of her voice.

Liadain could not help but wonder what Laird MacGregor would think of her now. Would he hold her accountable for his brother’s shackles? How would he feel about having a Campbell for a sister-by-marriage? One thing was for certain: Ciaran MacGregor had despised Archie. She hoped that gaining a portion of the Campbell lands would lighten Laird MacGregor’s opinion of her. Her worries must have shown upon her face because she felt her husband’s stare.

“Are ye
nervous
?” he asked.

She returned a sheepish smile. “A wee bit.”

“Ye have naught to fear. ’Tisnae as if ye donna know my clan.”

“I donna think having another Campbell underfoot would be exactly welcoming,” she replied dryly.

“Ye worry for naught, healer. Rosalia and Aisling care for ye.”

Shifting in the saddle, she cleared her throat. “’Tisnae Rosalia and Aisling I worry about.”

He studied her thoughtfully for a moment. “Donna let Ciaran and Aiden frighten ye. Ye saved their women. They wouldnae hold Archie’s treachery against ye.”

“I hope your words ring true and they donna think I share the same tainted blood.” She paused. “And what of ye?”

“Me?” MacGregor asked with surprise. “I told ye before. The bloody Campbell was your brother. Ye donna even remotely resemble him.”

“Thank ye. I think.”

“God’s teeth, ’tis hot,” he grunted, pulling at his tunic.” His features glistened with sweat and his hair was damp.

“Aye, at least ye wear a kilt and receive a bit of air. My traveling dress isnae as forgiving. I am starting to think I should listen to Rosalia. Women should be permitted to don trews and tunics. The same as men.”

He threw back his head with laughter. “Already Rosalia influences ye. I know Ciaran permits her to don trews when they ride, but Aisling doesnae yet wear them. I donna think Aiden would want her traipsing around the bailey wearing a man’s trews—especially his own.”

MacGregor had a rich, masculine laugh, and the gentle sparring between them was comforting. She grew tired of wanting to kill her husband at every turn.

As they rode along the dry, dusty path, the heat bore down upon them with no mercy. If she wasn’t paying attention, she wouldn’t have noticed that her husband had changed direction.

“Why donna we continue north?” she finally asked, wiping the sweat from her brow.

“We only travel a wee distance and then will resume our course.” He did not meet her eyes and his expression became carefully guarded.

Who was she to argue? Liadain hoped they would not be going too far out of the way, wanting to curtail anything that would possibly delay the journey home to the cooler temperatures of the Highlands. They had continued for about a mile when she smiled at the sight before her.

The clustered trees suddenly cleared and opened up to an inviting loch—a wonderfully cool, refreshing loch. Mossy, green grass surrounded the pool in a welcoming embrace. A rocky peninsula jetted out from the shore, and small, white waves lapped against the stones. Her spirits instantly lifted.

“I thought we could swim for a bit and it would help to stay the heat.”

“Bless ye, MacGregor.” Sliding from her mount, she steadied her wobbly legs.

He took the reins and tethered the horses to a nearby tree. Not wasting any time, he lifted his strong arms and removed his tunic. He slid out of his boots, and then with one quick movement of his wrist, his kilt fell to the ground.

Turning, he nodded in her direction. “Healer, we havenae got all day. If ye’re going to cool off, best ye do it now.”

With a sudden spring in his step, MacGregor bolted to where the water was waist deep and then dove in headfirst. He came up a moment later, sweeping his hair away from his face. Water sprayed in all directions and tiny droplets glistened on his tanned body, casting him in a deliciously enticing glow.

Wiping his eyes, he glanced back to the shore. “Healer! Quit standing there with your mouth open and join me.”

Liadain masked the heat that stole into her cheeks by looking down and freeing her sweaty feet from her boots. She instantly sighed. Hefting her skirts, she waded into the water and let the coolness soothe her. “This feels delightful.” She closed her eyes in sheer bliss.

“Come in and cool off. If ye arenae…er, comfortable removing your clothing, take off your dress and remain in your shift.” MacGregor cupped water in his hands and splashed it on his face.

Granted, the man was now her husband and she certainly had received an eyeful of him. But she was not jumping at the chance to display her body so bare before his gaze. “Nay, I am fine where I stand.”

He rubbed water up and down his brawny arms. “Healer,” he said in a knowing tone. “Ye donna have to be so stubborn. The heat has nay mercy this day. If ye donna remove your dress, I will come and do it for ye.” He gave her a rakish gaze, his eyes holding another meaning entirely.

She had the feeling he would stay true to his word. Nodding in consent, she walked back into the grass and turned away from him. Reaching down, she fumbled for the bottom of her dress.

“Do ye need my assistance?” he asked with a masculine laugh.

“Nay.”

She lifted the gown over her head, while making certain that her shift kept covering the most important parts of her body. As she turned to the loch, her husband’s naked arse rose in the air as he dove deeper into the cooling depths of the water. She made her way to the edge and needed all of her strength not to laugh at the sight.

Springing his head up, he wiped the water from his face. He took one look at her and shook his head. With long, purposeful strides, he headed toward her. “God’s teeth, healer, we havenae got all day.”

Instinctively, she tried to retreat, but the man reached out and grabbed her wrist. With one swift movement, he bent over and scooped her up in his arms.

“What are ye doing?” she squealed as she twisted and arched her body, fighting to get free.

His grip tightened around her. He walked back into the water, stopping when he was about waist deep. She could feel something beneath her bottom that made the rogue so self-confident. His eyes darkened and one corner of his mouth turned upward. MacGregor lowered his head, his lips parted, and looked as though he was about to kiss her.

She leaned her head forward and closed her eyes. The shock of his actions hit her full force as she was engulfed by rushing water. It took her a moment to register that the dastardly man had actually dropped her in the loch. Pulling herself to her feet, she wiped her eyes. A deep chuckle greeted her.