Claimed by a Laird (18 page)

Lord, was she ever in trouble.

Galen grinned lazily as she slowly approached. “What were
you thinking of back there?” he asked, eyes twinkling as if he could read her
thoughts.

She scowled at just how much of an open book she was to this
guy. “Nothing in particular.” She adopted a casual tone and crossed her arms to
put a protective layer between them.

“Did it go well?”

She nodded. “Really well.”

“Good.”

“It’s a boy,” she offered as an awkward silence threatened
to fall upon them. “I’m sure you’ll be happy to hear that.”

He shrugged. “A boy is a blessing to any family.”

Anna rolled her eyes. “And another warrior to add to your
clan.”

He raised his eyebrows and thoughtfully stroked his chin. “I
suppose.”

“You suppose?”

Her stomach twisted over the thought such a perfect,
helpless little being could someday grow up only to be attacked and nearly
killed as Adam had the day before. If she stayed with Galen, became his wife
like he wanted her to, would she be facing the same fate as Lizzie? Doomed to
be the mother of warriors and to bury them as well?

She shook her head and turned to walk to the keep. No way
would a warlord like Galen understand her fears and she had no intention of
standing there, trying to explain them when she was this bone-tired.

“Anna?”

She ignored him, determined to go to bed and hopefully not
dream of him, Adam’s injuries or childbirth.

Galen’s large hand grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Do
not walk away from me when I am speaking with you.”

Anna shrugged his hand off her arm, staring past his
shoulder to the mountains behind him.

“Now.” His voice took on an even, straightforward tone as he
clasped his hands behind his back. “Tell me why you are angry with me.”

“It’s not you, I’m just angry at all of this.” She threw her
hands into the air. “That baby. That innocent, precious—”

Exhaustion smacked into her as tears stung her eyes. Her
face fell into her hands and she breathed deeply in an attempt to regain her
composure.

A warm, comforting hand gripped her shoulder.

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I’m just having a hard time
with the idea such an innocent little being could grow up only so he can die
for you on the battlefield.”

Galen leaned closer and she dropped her hands to her sides
as she lifted her head, daring to take in his reaction. To her surprise, he
didn’t seem angry about her accusation. Just confused.

“I do my best to prevent conflict, lass. But to die in
battle is an honorable end to an honorable life. A warrior accepts this. The
child will accept it as well when he grows to manhood.”

She bit her lower lip as tears threatened to roll down her
cheeks. “And what of his mother? What of Lizzie? She spent many excruciating
hours giving him life and now she’s just supposed to stand idly by while this
world cruelly rips him from her? Is that what I am supposed to do if I marry
you? Just watch as my son follows you into battle?”

A strange, inscrutable expression danced across his face and
he tilted his head down toward her, placing a tentative kiss upon her forehead.
“I do not know what you wish for me to say,” he whispered with a shake of his
head.

Anna’s shoulders slumped. She hadn’t expected any other
answer from him, but his admittance to being just as helpless as everyone else
tore the last ounce of strength from her body. Tears spilled from her eyes.

“Woman,” Galen warned as he dropped his hand from her
shoulder.

The stress and lack of sleep caught up with her. She pushed
against his chest in frustration, her ire heightened by the fact he didn’t even
flinch. “What the hell is wrong with you? Haven’t you ever seen a woman cry
before?”

“Of course, but—”

“Then stop acting like an ass and let me cry.” She crossed
her arms once again.

He paused for the briefest of moments and then encircled her
tightly in his arms. She sniffled, pressing her cheek against his chest as the
tears continued to fall
.

His warmth seeped into her skin, soothing her aching heart,
and her tears subsided, leaving her with nothing but Galen’s heartbeat pounding
steadily in her ear. A soothing wave of comfort washed over her, but then her
heart snapped shut. She hated crying in front of people, especially men. It
made her too vulnerable. Too open to further pain.

“Take me home,” she whispered, averting her eyes from his
intense stare. “I need to sleep.”

He nodded and placed a quick kiss on her brow before
engulfing her hand in his.

“Laird MacAirth!” a voice called behind them.

They stopped and turned as a tall, thin man with gray streaks
running through his brown hair huffed up the hill toward them.

“Good morning, Laird! Is it not a fine one?”

“It is, Father,” Galen answered. “I trust your journey here
went well.”

“That it did. That it did indeed.”

The priest, who wore a long black coat with a white collar,
stopped in front of them and pulled his leather satchel off his shoulder,
allowing it to slip to the ground. Smiling broadly, he propped his hands on his
hips.

“Father, this is Anna,” Galen said, squeezing her hand.
“Anna, this is Father Andrew MacIntosh. He is the priest for this area of the
Highlands.”

“Ah, so this is the lass I have heard so much about!” The
man warmly took Anna’s hand. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Anna returned his smile. He radiated warmth and kindness, vaguely
reminding her of her Uncle Ian.

Father Andrew released her and clasped his hands together in
a prayerful pose, looking at Anna and then Galen. “Forgive me for bringing this
up so quickly, but since I have the both of you alone, there is something I
would like to speak to you about. Geoffrey mentioned your situation when he saw
me a few days ago. I would like to offer the Church’s blessing on contracting
your marriage.”

Anna dropped Galen’s hand like a hot coal, her eyes widening
in astonishment. “Contracting what?” she asked, hoping she had misheard the
priest.

“Your marriage,” Father Andrew repeated, raising one
eyebrow. “Geoffrey told me the laird was taking you as his wife. I assumed you
had exchanged oaths…” He furrowed his brow in concern.

An urge to escape settled into the pit of her stomach. As if
sensing her panic, Galen draped his massive palm around the back of her neck.

“You are living with one another, are you not?” Father
Andrew asked.

“Yes, we are,” Galen answered.

“As if I had much of a choice,” Anna muttered, giving him a
sideways glance.

Galen cocked his head at her. “You have never mentioned you
found our arrangement distasteful.”

“Oh, so I could move into an empty cottage in the village if
I wanted to?” she countered, knowing full well what his reaction would be.

“Over my cold, dead body,” he growled, squeezing her neck.

Anna yanked on his hand, the weight of it suddenly
suffocating her. “Galen, let go of me.”

“Now, now, I did not mean to cause an argument between the
two of you.” Father Andrew’s voice was rough with anxiety.

“Why not tell Father the real reason you are picking a fight
with me?” Galen drawled, his stormy eyes boring into hers.

“What?” She crossed her arms. “You think I have a problem
admitting to a priest the thought of marriage scares the bejesus out of me?”

“Lass,” Father Andrew admonished.

Anna resisted the urge to roll her eyes and instead turned
the conversation in another direction. “I’m sorry. I have been up all night
attending a birth, so I’m not really feeling like myself at the moment.”

“Oh!” The priest’s face broke into a wide smile. “And to
whom does this newest blessing belong?”

“Gabriel and Lizzie.” Galen motioned toward the cottages
behind them. “It is the third one on the right.”

“Well then, Anna, I shall let you get your rest.” Father
Andrew patted her gently on the arm. “I am sorry for upsetting you. Perhaps the
three of us can talk later?”

When Anna didn’t immediately respond, Galen jabbed her in
the back.

“Of course, Father.” She forced a serene smile onto her
face. “I am sorry for snapping.”

He waved away her apology and stooped to retrieve his
satchel. “Think nothing of it. Have a good rest, my dear.”

Galen fiercely latched onto her hand with his and nearly
dragged her toward the keep.

Tension bounced between them, pressing on her chest.

Galen bent his head toward hers. “Does living with me make
you unhappy?”

The strangely vulnerable tone in his voice gave her pause.
She glanced up at him while they walked. A slight crinkle creased his brow as
he stared down at her. Her heart warmed and she wove her fingers into his.

“No,” she whispered, shaking her head. Lord, help her, but
at that moment she couldn’t think of another place she would rather
be—including her own time.

She leaned the side of her face against his bicep, grabbing
onto his forearm with her free hand. He placed a soft kiss on top of her head.

“I am not the Gowrie man you were married to.” His voice was
a bare whisper she almost missed.

She nodded against his arm. “I know.”

“Then what is it that you fear?”

She smiled over the gentleness in Galen’s voice despite his
obvious confusion. Tears stung her eyes, but she fought them back. She
shrugged. “I don’t know. Everything, I guess. My parents’ relationship didn’t
work out. I had a string of four stepfathers and several almost-stepfathers. I
married a psycho. Take your pick. They’re all equally valid reasons for not
wanting to get married again.”

“And what is it, exactly, that I have in common with any of
these men?”

“Me,” she whispered.

Galen trailed Anna with his eyes throughout the evening. The
laughter and conversations in the great hall after supper barely registered in
his ears any longer. It had been nearly a week since Father Andrew had arrived.
At Galen’s request, the two of them had not spoken of marriage again, despite
the priest’s growing discomfort with Galen and Anna’s living arrangement.

Anna had been called in to attend another birth the previous
night and dark smudges remained below her eyes despite her nap earlier in the
day. It was the first time in a week they had not been able to spend the night
entwined in one another’s arms before succumbing to sleep, and a desperate need
to touch her roared within him. The only thing that stopped him from throwing
her over his shoulder and dragging her up to his chamber was her strangely
pensive mood. She was not speaking much to the others around her this evening,
which was unusual. She appeared lost in her thoughts, yet content, though he
could tell her past preyed on her mind.

It irked him something fierce that no matter what he did or
how well he treated her, she did not ultimately see him as any different than
the other men in her life who had treated her so poorly. How could a woman who
had so bravely assisted his escape from the Graham dungeon and who had faced a
new life in foreign surroundings with all of the grace and dignity of a queen,
allow her fear of men to prevent her from accepting him as her husband? What
woman in her right mind would prefer the status of mistress to that of a wife?

Yes, they were essentially married in the eyes of his clan.
He had told them she was his woman, which was tantamount to publicly declaring
his marriage oath. They shared a household and, more importantly, they shared a
bed. No one questioned him about the fact he never mentioned whether or not
Anna had given him her pledge, but he did want her to at least give her oath to
him. He needed to hear the words, much to his confusion and annoyance.

His jaw twitched in irritation. Why was she being so
mule-headed? He offered her everything he had—his home, his land, his clan. He
did everything he could think of to make her life comfortable and to repay the
great debt he owed her for assisting his escape, but she still would not accept
him as her husband.

Was it because she assumed that damned pendant would be able
to take her home and away from him? He had refused to consider the possibility
before, but now he could no longer deny the questions in her eyes whenever she
stared at the box on the mantle in their chamber. His stomach churned at the
thought she might not want to stay with him.

“Laird,” came Cal’s voice from beside him.

Galen lifted his eyes as a hush fell over the room. Cal sat
on the bench, holding a rolled parchment.

“The boys are back from tailing the suspected Gowrie we
caught,” Cal quietly said.

“And?” Galen prodded as his attention was drawn to the
parchment in Cal’s hands. It bore the seal of the king.

“We were right. He is a Gowrie.”

“What the hell is the Gowrie up to now?” Geoffrey whispered,
leaning in from across the table.

Galen shook his head, clenching his jaw, and extended his
hand toward Cal, who quickly placed the missive in his palm. Galen tore open
the seal and unfurled the parchment. He scanned the contents, hoping the issue
was something minor so he could concentrate on figuring out the Gowrie’s next
move.

His hopes were quickly dashed. The king requested his
presence in negotiating with the jarl of Orkney for the return of Gunn warriors
captured in a skirmish on the mainland. He would be away for several weeks.

He would have to leave her.

Anna’s gaze burned into him from across the room and he
lifted his eyes to hers. The sea-blue orbs he loved so much were round with
concern and she slowly twisted a knot in the fabric of her skirt as if she
could tell he had unpleasant news to give her.

He stood from the bench and, without taking his eyes off
Anna, announced in a tone devoid of emotion, “Geoffrey, Cal, Michael, prepare
to leave for Orkney on the morrow. The king requests the presence of the
MacAirths.”

“About how long do you expect we will be gone?” Geoffrey set
his mug of ale on the table before standing.

“I cannot say for certain,” Galen answered. “Several weeks,
at least.”

A brittle silence loomed over the great hall as if not a
person present dared to interrupt the palpable tension stretching between him
and Anna. Galen refused to break the sudden quiet, determined Anna have the
chance to speak first.

Her throat rippled in a nervous swallow before she bit her
lower lip. He sighed, tossing the missive onto the table. He had not been away
from her once in the two weeks they had been together. Now he thought of
nothing other than how he would not be able to hold her again for many, many
nights.

“Several weeks?” Anna finally said. “Can’t you be more
specific?”

Galen shook his head.

“How far is Orkney?” she asked, her voice ringing with
fragility.

An unfamiliar tightness gripped his chest. “About a six-day
ride and then we will have to take a boat,” he answered. “The negotiations will
take some time though, Anna, and will require some stops along the way to speak
with other clans. It is not something we can rush.”

She pursed her lips and nodded briefly before standing and
turning toward the stairs.

“Anna,” he called as his fingers curled into his fists at
his sides.

How dare she walk away from him? He was not certain what he
expected, but the thought of her rushing to his side and touching him appealed
greatly at that moment, and he found himself strangely vexed when she did not
do just that.

She stopped at the foot of the stairs and stood motionless
for a moment. An ever-so-slight resigned inclination of her head caused him to
forget all about forcing her to come to him. He unclenched his fists and strode
purposefully toward her.

Gently grabbing Anna by the arms, he turned her to face him
and effectively blocked everyone’s view of her with his body so as to maintain
their privacy. When she did not look at him, he lifted her chin with his index
finger.

“I am duty-bound to my king,” Galen whispered.

She nodded, casting her watery eyes to his, and his chest
tightened. “I will miss you.”

His lips parted to speak, but no words escaped. He stared
down at her, surprised by her admission.

Her fingers danced with the fabric of his shirt, just above
his belt. The butterfly-like touches quickly drove him daft and his cock
hardened. He covered her fingers, gripping them tightly to stop them.

A cold, restless knot formed in his stomach at the thought
of leaving her for so long without her becoming his by law. “Marry me,” he
insisted with a whisper, suddenly obsessed with gaining her pledge to be his
wife.

She sighed and shook her head. “Galen—”

“It is in your own best interest, for your own safety that
you become my wife.”

A shadow of irritation crossed her face and her eyes
hardened. “Those are not reasons to get married.” She tore her hands away from
him and stepped back.

“You have no other ties here, lass,” he replied, no longer
attempting to hide the irritation from his voice. “It is unfathomable to me why
you would continue to resist my offer of protection.”

Anna rolled her eyes and her mouth opened, but then shut it
as though thinking better of saying what was truly on her mind.

The woman was maddening. How was he to know what she wanted
if she refused to share her thoughts with him? “What is it? I demand you tell
me.”

She shook her head, pursing her lips together in obvious
anger. “Marriage is different here than in my homeland, I know that. So I do
not understand what on earth you think to gain from marrying me. I have
nothing, Galen. Do you get that? Nothing.”

A flash of grief pierced his heart. Did she not understand?
He did not care that she had nothing to offer him other than herself. In fact,
he preferred it that way. He liked that she had no family to deal with, could
not have cared less she brought no wealth to his coffers. He had never been one
to desire more than what he needed to care for his clan.

Galen shook his head in confusion and reached for her. What
else on God’s green Earth could the woman possibly want from him he had not
already given to her? “Tell me how marriage is so different here. Tell me what
it is you require and it will be yours.”

She stepped back and closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. When
she finally met his gaze, she gave him a small, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,
Galen. I think I must need a little more sleep. I’m not thinking clearly.”

Anna’s shifting eyes told him she was attempting to hide
something else from him. “Lass—” he warned.

“You won’t leave without saying goodbye, will you?”

The pain in her voice was not lost on him. Having the
distinct impression that now was not the time to press her further, he nodded.
After all, the battle was not yet over. One day she would confide in him and he
would be able to get her to see the rightness of their union.

It was not easy for him to allow Anna to ascend the stairs
without going after her. He was not a man used to being denied what he wanted.
Despite allowing him access to her body, the woman had surrounded herself with
some sort of wall and he had not yet found a way to breach her defenses to
possess the whole of her.

“Laird MacAirth.”

Galen turned and found Father Andrew standing next to him.
Annoyed he had been so distracted he didn’t even sense the approach of the
priest, Galen clenched his jaw.

“I apologize, Laird, but I could not help but overhear a
little of the conversation,” Father Andrew spoke in a low tone. “I will be
staying on for two more days and I would be happy to counsel the lass while you
are away. Perhaps I can gain an understanding of why she does not wish to
marry.”

He resisted the urge to snort. He already knew the answer.
The problem was, the woman refused to tell him what she needed to get over it.
“She does not trust men,” Galen answered in a clipped voice.

“Ah, I see.” The priest rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Then
maybe I can spend some time convincing her about how marriage could be a
benefit to her.”

Galen nodded as he mulled over the suggestion. The white
collar around Father Andrew’s neck drew his attention and apprehension quickly
came over him. He knew all too well what such counseling from a priest could
entail and Anna would not take kindly to a lot of pressure being placed on her.
Besides, even if the priest’s advice did drive her into his arms, is that how
he wanted her to become his wife? Because she feared for her soul and not
because she wanted him?

“You may speak with her.” He eyed the priest carefully. “But
you may not frighten her. I will not have you pressuring her with talk of sin
and hell. I want her to come to me of her own free will.”

Astonishment touched Father Andrew’s brows and he regarded
Galen with concern for several moments. “But, son, the two of you are sinning.
Hell is the result of such a mortal sin. Unless you both repent and pledge
yourselves to one another, you will be damned.”

Galen’s spine stiffened. He’d never taken kindly to others
telling him what he should or shouldn’t do, either. He and Anna certainly
shared that affliction.

He faced the priest, his eyes never wavering from Father
Andrew’s. “Then we will face the fires of damnation together.”

He brushed past the priest and strode to the door of the
keep.

* * * * *

Anna closed the door to Adam’s chamber and padded down the
corridor to the room she shared with Galen. Adam was healing quite well and
soon would be able to ease into his daily activities. Perhaps she would even
let him venture into the great hall in the morning. Then Catriona wouldn’t have
to sneak into his room so often.

She laughed to herself. Earlier today she caught Catriona
stretched out beside Adam on the bed as they had kissed. Both of their faces
had flushed when they noticed Anna standing in the doorway.

She pushed open the door to her chamber and slipped inside,
the warm room aglow with light. Even after two whole weeks of being tended to
by the household staff in Galen’s employ, she was still humbled and delighted
by how Mary was always thoughtful enough to sneak into the room and light the
fire before Anna went to bed.

She prepared for sleep, trying to avoid her thoughts of
Galen’s latest efforts to get her to agree to marry him. With what little she
knew of Medieval history, she understood the logical choice was to marry him.
After all, marriage here was based on simple economics, and women usually had
little choice about whom they married. To actually have the opportunity to
marry a man she had come to care so deeply about was a Godsend in this time
period. So, why could she not get past her twenty-first-century ideals of love
and marriage? Why was she holding out for some grand declaration of love when
the last time she received one it was followed by an act of violence?

Perhaps it was simply
because
marriage was about
economics in the thirteenth century. She had nothing to give to him—no
political alliances, no land, no wealth. If that was what marriage was about
here, then what on earth could Galen gain from marrying her? Without his love
as assurance, couldn’t she easily be tossed aside should the political need
arise or if his king demanded it? Isn’t that what England’s Henry VIII did—toss
women aside when his affections or desires for a male heir led him elsewhere?
Sure, it was a different century, a different country and different
circumstances, but with no legal rights and no family to take her in should
Galen do the unthinkable, how would she survive if that happened?