A Highlander's Home (15 page)

As if he read her thoughts, the priest
gave her a lopsided grin and
said drily, “If you run, my dear, he
will
c
atch you.”

She gave a small, nervous, laugh, as if to counteract his interpretation of her own thoughts. 
Releasing her grip on the roses, she brushed the back of her hand across her forehead.  The sun must have decided to shine a little extra this afternoon.
  Was anyone else feeling the warmth in this room? 

Glancing over her shoulder, she wished that she could see
through
the thick wooden door that shielding her from the couple that could decide her future…her immediate future anyway.

             
With hazel eyes flashing, Lady
Brittany
Brighton was holding nothing back.  She was the laughing stock of
London
because of this idiotic Scottish brute.
  Her father had practically forced an agreement of marriage from her to some little known
border lord who happened to
be in the good graces of the Scottish
Q
ueen
, who happened to be in negotiations with the English
Q
ueen
.  Since
Brittany
’s father was trying to get the English
Q
ueen
’s ear, his daughter’s marriage to the Scottish border lord was the perfect solution.
 

             
She
had cried, screamed, whined, trying
to change her
father
’s mind but
nothing had worked
.  Usually she just had to make her plump bottom lip quiver, and she
was
the victor
.

             
Ru
n
ning his fingers through his thick hair, he addressed her with a sigh.  “Lady, my deepest regrets to ye and ye’re family.  No disrespect was intended to ye’re father’s name.”  He moved his gaze to the castle.  “But this is my wedding.”

             
When she made no movement, but continued to glare at him, he tried to clarify himself.  He motioned to the keep
, and cleared his throat
.  “And ye are interrupting it.”

             
Stomping her slip
pered foot, she yelled at him. “How dare you!” 

Her eyes narrowed until they were no more than slits on either side of her nose.  “Perhaps you were not aware, my lord, that I protested our marriage.  But that was in the beginning.”  She decided to exclude the weeks of pleading her case to her father that she would prefer to marry a baboon than a sheep-loving Scotsman.

“I have since come to the conclusion that since the union of o
ur families is acceptable to Her
Highness, the
Queen
,” she almost choked, “then it is acceptable to me.”  The fact that that skinny
twerp
standing on the altar, in her spot, ready to become the lady of the keep and all the power that comes with it, had nothing to do with it.

             
Lady Brighton’s earliest memories was that of her mother telling her that the only way for her to loose the yoke of male authority that hangs on the neck of all women was to marry a man of substance who is tolerable.  Brac
e yourself for the duty of
the marriage
bed, bear him a son or two, and hopefully he will leave you in peace for his mistress while as the Lady of the keep, she can have as much charge over her life as is possible.
  Even though this Scots border lord was
not of the status that she had hoped for in a husband, he did have substantial lands and a title.  That accounted for something.

             
And Leith
MacGregor was that man of substance.  He would not escape and ruin her plans for a future of freedom.

             
“My lady,”
Leith
began, “as was explained in my letter, our situation has, er, changed.  The money has been returned to ye’re father, as was extra funds
for
compensation.”

             
She folded her arms across her chest.  “I care not for the goings on between my father and you.”  Her index finger poked his chest. 
Her voice was husky with barely controlled anger. 
“I was betrothed to be married, and married I will be.”

             
“Ye may be married still, lass, just not to me.”

             
In the shadow of the castle, her hazel eyes stirred a feeling of u
nease in the pit of his stomach
. 
The
lights and shadows
caused her eyes to
appear
gold, like a wolf’s, and somehow he sensed, just as dangerous.

             
Her smile was slow coming, but when it appeared, the sour feeling that had started as a twinge deep inside his stomach was now spreading.  She stepped towards him, her hand
lying
like a whisper on his forearm causing the muscles to twitch.

             
“My lord.”  Her voice like silk, soft and slippery, she moved even closer until her small breasts were leaning against his arm.  “My lord, surely you cannot prefer
her
to me,” she laughed lowly.  “From what is being said about her, she gallops across the countryside wearing servants clothing – boy servants, no less.” 

             
Her lashes fluttered as she stood on tiptoe and gave him the most seductive look.
  Her fingers wrapped around the nape of his neck, and her lips moved closer to his.

             
Surprise and then anger, deeper and stronger than she felt before, slammed into her when Leith raised her slim, manicured, hand with
its silky soft skin from his neck
and then tossed it away from him as if it
were
disease
d
. 

Raine had only been here a short while and had not left the keep.  To his knowledge none
of his servants or townsfolk
had
traveled as of recently.
  Where could the gossip have come from and who was spreading it?

             
His blue eyes were as cold as a sheet of ice.  “What is being said?”

             
She whirled, her skirts flaring out in perfect arrangement and falling back into place immediately, as if they feared her wrath of being anything other than utterly beautiful. 

“Does it matter? 
She –" her finger pointed towards the large wooden entrance doors – “is not me! 
She is probably some commoner trying to wed you for your title and
lands
!  And she is not even pretty.” 

Brittany waited to take pleasure as the barbs hit the man in front of her, hoping that her words were truer than she thought, wanting to hurt him.
  How dare he rebuff her, her family name, one of the strongest in the country, and – as her friends were
quick to
tell her – she was the most beautiful female this side of the
England
.  So it must be true.

             
He stepped towards her
, his breathing coming faster.  “Apparently,
Lady
Brighton, ye have become slightly hard of hearing.”  He stopped as her back met the wall, her golden eyes wide
ning
with fear. 

He
enunciated
his words slowly, shoving the barb home. “What…is…being…said…of my future wife, and by whom?”

             
Why he felt so protective of Raine’s reputation, he reasoned, was simply because she was to be Lady of his keep.  She was to be his wife, and therefore she was a reflection of him and his rule.  If someone were besmirching her name, they were attacking him as well.

             
The thought of lying only briefly reared its head to
Brittany
before she thought better of it.  He was a Scottish lord. 
He would find out that she had lied, and then her chances would be forfeit permanently. 

She stuck out her bottom lip, and said
with a practiced pout
,
“
Lord
Alistair
, your cousin
.”

             
That one name
hung heavily in the air as Leith stared at her, his gaze becoming harder, colder.

             
Thinking perhaps he had not heard her, she
repeated
, “Your cousin.”

             
“What has he done?  What is he planning?”

             
Brittany
frowned, confused. “He said that she had stolen into the camp of he and his men while they were out hunting and stole some clothing belonging to one of his servants. 
His
servant
, my lord. 
He
chased her and would have caught her to extract payment
, and probably punishment as well,
except that she ran onto your land – and straight into you.”  She sniffed.   “Literally.”

             
“Ye have no business with my cousin, Lady, and I will expect ye to remember that.”  He could smell the trouble in the air if his cousin and ex-
fiancé
spent too much time together.

             
“My lord Alistair was at court, and we simply ran into each other.  It happened to be the same day that I received your letter cancelling our betrothal.  Needless to say, my lord, I was devastated by the news.  Your cousin then told me he had already met the woman.”  She sighed for effect before continuing. 

             
Watching him through her lashes she added
with forced tears
, “He offered me comfort after
your
dagger pierced my heart.”

             
Twirling a perfectly placed dark curl around her finger, she cast a glance to the castle. 
Perched on the landing looking
like
a fish out of water
,
was Raine.  Before Leith could turn around to
notice
her,
Brittany
threw her arms around his neck and lifted her feet, putting her full weight on his shoulders.  His arms came around her waist to steady her, thinking that she had lost her balance, when she smashed her
cool
lips to his.

             
Startled for a moment, he stood stock still,
and then
pushed her away.  She stumbled backwards, arms flailing
awkwardly
before she steadied herself, but not before Leith caught the self satisfied smile that made it’s ugly way across her face as she stared past him.

             
Following her gaze, he felt the anger boil inside of him as hot a
s a volcano about to erupt.  “Ye
did that on purpose.”  His growl was low, but distinct.

             
Brittany
disregarded it.  “The twit needed to know where your
desires
truly
lay
, my lord,” she replied flippantly.  “
And they lie with me.  I was here first
.”

             
“And she will be the last,” he ground out between clenched teeth. 
Throwing propriety to the wind he growled,
“She is to be my wife, not you.  She will bear my sons, not you.  She will be lady of my keep, not you.”  He no longer cared if he hurt her feelings.  The damage control he would now have to manage would be a horrific feat.  “And she will be in my bed tonight.”

             
He paused, his glare heavy on her.  “Not you.”

             
Brushing her off, he made his way back into the castle.  She followed him, declaring her
father’s revenge in honor of her reputation
, listing her wifely attributes to him.  He motioned for his men to remove her from the great hall. 

             
Fairly stomping down the aisle, he took Raine by the arm, his grasp fir
m, and fairly dragged her to
a halt in front of the priest.

             
“Finish this.”

             
The wheezing noise that was quite audible to the first few rows of the congregation was not the wind which was beginning to pick up outside and toss about a few stray leaves.  It was quite noticeably the forced air being inhaled and then expelled by the bride.
 
Leith
noticed the redness of her cheeks, probably dripping down from the anger in her eyes.  Och, he was in the doghouse
,
and he was not even married yet.
  He merely wanted this business done, and to get on with the simple way of life in his land.  This mess was giving him a headache.