Dreamer (Highland Treasure Trilogy) (4 page)

The Highlander turned his intense
gray eyes on her. “Do you see someone else in this chamber whom I might be
addressing?”

She looked about innocently. “Nay! But I’m no judge of the soundness of your mind!”

“Rest assured, mistress, I was
speaking to you and not some apparition.”

“You don’t know me!” This was
beyond bizarre. It was almost comical. “How could you marry someone whom you
have only just met?”

“Are you not Catherine Percy?”

“I am, but...”

“And have you not been sent up here
to be my ward?”

“Hardly, m’lord!” she responded. “I
am five-and-twenty. Hardly of an age to be anyone’s ward. Especially to one as
unreasonable and brutish as yourself.”

He stared at her, first in frigid
silence, and then through slitted eyes as temper flashed across his face. “You
certainly
talk
like some old crone! If I didn’t have first-hand knowledge--of
a rather intimate nature--I would almost be convinced from listening to you
that you are some ancient creature. But I know, Catherine Percy, exactly what
you are.”

His words stung her, but she
couldn’t stop the deep blush that crept into her face when his hard eyes began
to study her from the tip of her head to her bare toes. Suddenly horrified that
she was dressed in nothing more than a thin shift, she crossed her arms over
her chest to hide whatever she could.

He raised one eyebrow at her actions.
“A bit late for coyness, don’t you think, considering all that you have
willingly allowed me?”

“There was nothing ‘willing’ in my
response to your ignoble behavior, and you know it. You were trying to force
yourself upon me--like some heavy-handed brute.”

“Did I, now?” His eyes flashed a
challenge. “And is this the way you fight for your honor? By moaning at the most intimate of touches? By lifting yourself to a lover’s caress...pardon me,
an assailant’s advances...and shivering at the touch of his lips against your
skin?”

By the Virgin, she had done that,
hadn’t she? She brought her cold, trembling hands to her cheeks to cool the
blazing skin. All she could do now was to whisper the truth. “I...I thought it
all a dream.”

She could have sworn a glint of humor
softened the hardness of his glare. But it was only for an instant. “For a
spinster, you certainly have interesting dreams. But tell me this...do you find
fulfillment in them, as well? Or are you simply another frustrated--” 

“Don’t!” she snapped at him, though
more severely than she’d intended. But he was mocking her. In his roguish way,
he was trying to make her feel small, insignificant...a bit licentious, even.
Looking up and meeting his challenging glare, Catherine suddenly felt the urge
to strike back, to wash that arrogant hint of amusement off his face. “You are
taking great pleasure in insulting me, I see. But I know what lies behind your
boorish behavior.”

“Do you?”

“Aye. Though your male pride spurns
the truth, I believe you know who is responsible for everything that took place
here tonight.”

“I have no time for this
foolishness.”

“The truth is that
you
are
the cause of all this--though your arrogance denies it.”

“What do you mean by that?”

His eyes had once again turned
murderous, but Catherine was too riled to back down.

“You are a man on the threshold of
marriage--a man who obviously has had previous...previous knowledge of his
intended’s body. How is it possible that you did not know that the woman in
your bed was not Ellen Crawford?”

“‘Twas dark. A mistake I intend to
set right,” he growled. “But what has that to do with the wench crawling into
the bed of...”

“The connection is simple to see,
m’lord,” she interrupted. “To you, a woman clearly has no more value than a
mattress or a prize cow!”

“No more than a m...?” Athol stared
at her in disbelief, his words trailing off.

“Aye. And one woman is as good as
another, for all you care. So long as there is a willing body to bear your
weight, what does it matter who ‘tis?”

“You’re daft, woman!”

“Am I? Look at Ellen. It seems to
me she was quite aware of the man she was about to marry--a man indifferent to
her!”

“Indifferent? Does madness run
rampant in your family, mistress?”

“If it matters not a whit to you
whom you lie with, then what should hold her?”

“Even if what you say were
true--and I tell you ‘tis not...” Athol faltered. “Well, I’m a man, for one
thing, and she’s...”

“Aye?”

Even in the dim light of the room,
she could tell his face had turned pale. His brow appeared to be permanently creased
with a frown, and his eyes locked on her.

 “Did Ellen tell you this?”

“Nay, m’lord,” she said quickly,
suddenly touched by the pain in his gray eyes. How Ellen could possibly have
preferred someone else’s bed over this man’s was certainly a mystery. “I
concluded all of this from my own observation. Though courtship and marriage is
not a subject I am well versed in, if you will recall from my mother’s
correspondence, my learning ...”

“Here in Scotland, we say a wee bit
of learning is a dangerous thing.”

“I know that you don’t believe
that. Nonetheless, if you will allow me to continue. With regard to your faults
when it comes to your relationship with Ellen.”

Catherine paused as he took a step
toward her. He looked about ready to throttle her. As she watched him, his face
gradually turned as deep a shade of red as his hair, and his voice was no more
than a menacing growl.

“I will be your husband, Mistress
Percy, and I command you never to speak again of this night nor of Ellen
either, for that matter! Is that understood?”

“I did not come to the Highlands for the purpose of marriage--to you or anyone else, m’lord. I should have thought
my mother made that perfectly clear in her correspondence. I am here to open a
school. To share my learning. To...”

She paused, distracted momentarily
as he casually picked up his shirt and held it out in front of him. The shirt
was still wet from his ride, and she was suddenly very aware of the sinewy
musculature of the man’s rugged upper body, the effortless power in the way he
moved, in his very stance.  Realizing that she was staring like some moonstruck
maiden, she forced herself to take a breath, and then continued. 

“M’lord, did you not correspond
with my mother? Did she not explain the reason for my journey here?”

“She did! As I understand it, the
only reason why you were sent up into the Highlands was to keep you from
falling into the hands of the English king and his men.”

“True, but...” She watched with a
pang of disappointment as he tugged the wet shirt over his head.

“Well, your mother’s bargain gave
me complete control over you and your life.”

“What do you mean, ‘bargain’?”

He started pulling the tartan over
one shoulder. “I am to protect you.  I am to provide you with food and shelter.
You are to teach my people some of your learning. But hearing you babble on
tonight, I can’t say I’m too thrilled by the prospect. Ah, and you are to obey
my wishes.”

For the first time she saw a dim
ray of hope in his words. “You see? I am here to open a school.”

“That was before. You are now here
to wed me.”

The earl of Athol might be the most
stunningly handsome man she’d ever seen, but that did nothing to alter her
opinion that his skull must be as thick as the walls of York. Still busy
dressing himself, he seemed to have lost interest in her totally. But she wasn’t about to be ignored.

“But why me? Up to a few moments
ago, you were betrothed to another. You are
still
bound to her legally.
I am certain if you and Ellen were to sit down...”

“That betrothal contract is finished.
Besides, at the pace my former intended and her men rode out of here--with
that bare-assed cur hot on her tail--I’d wager she’s nearly halfway to Stirling by now. And knowing my temper and the compromising position she found herself in,
that slut is undoubtedly thinking she’s lucky still to have her head attached.”

“Still, m’lord, I’m certain that
with time will come healing and reconciliation.”

“This discussion is finished.” He
picked up his sword and slammed it into its scabbard.

“Nay, m’lord!” she protested,
suddenly panicking as he headed toward the door. She rushed to block his exit.
“I cannot become your wife.”

“You
will
.”

“But why me?”

“For two reasons. First, your honor
and chastity have been compromised tonight. The whole household knows ‘twas your
bed that I climbed into, accident or no.”

She had a chance, she thought.
Perhaps she’d been too hard on him. She softened her tone and met his gaze.

“That’s quite noble of you, m’lord,
to consider my character and the possibility of vicious rumor. But what you don’t know is that I care nothing about what others might think. I am far beyond a
marriageable age, and I cannot be wounded by false innuendo, spread by...”    

“You are wrong in what you say. But I have no time to try to convince a woman as foolish as you.”

She opened her mouth to argue, but
he quickly raised a hand and silenced her.

“And secondly. You will marry me
because ‘twas
your
doing that I am left without a bride this night.” 

“My doing?”

“Aye! Was that blackguard son of a
whore not one of your men? Was it not your bedchamber that Ellen was occupying
when he went to her?”

She was breathing fire as she shot
back her response. “Are you implying that David Hume was coming to
my
bed?”

“Nay! That would have been no
concern of mine. ‘Tis just this. I lost the Crawford lass and you will take her
place.”

“I won’t!” she snapped. He’d been
deaf to everything she’d said before. “Here you go again. I’m not some stray
mare wandering on the road for anyone’s taking.”

“Nay, you’ve wandered onto my land,
so you’re mine.” He placed one hand on the hilt of his sword. “But I know you’re no mare. You’re a woman. And a virgin to boot. I can attest to that myself.” 

She clenched her fist. “My
virginity is no business for you to speak of! I still--”

“I have no time for any more of
this foolishness.” Athol’s gaze hardened into one of disdain. “I’ll be having a
wife
now
. I will have an heir to my holdings.  You are here, you’re of
noble blood--in spite of it being half-English--and you’re a virgin. That, at
least, gives me the guarantee of knowing that I’ll not be passing my wealth on
to somebody else’s bastard.”

 “You cannot force me to marry you!
And I swear to you that you’ll not be getting any heirs from me.”

She could almost see the challenge
in the glint of his gray eyes.

“You will marry me. And you will obey me. And you will be faithful to me...if I need to lock you in the dungeons of Balvenie Castle to be certain of it.” An arrogant smile played over the edges of his mouth.
“But as far as begetting a bairn, you’ll take me into your bed.”

She held her breath as his hand
clamped on her chin and forced her gaze upward. It was so easy to close her
mind to reason and fall prey to the man’s stunning good looks. But Catherine knew that could only happen if he were to shut his mouth and never utter another
arrogant word. An unlikely occurrence!

“But do not be fooled by dreamy
notions of love. I’ll have none of that. A woman like you would normally be my
least likely choice for a wife. But you are here, and you will
have
to
do!”

She clenched her jaws shut to
stifle the fury that threatened to spew out of her. John Stewart was mad.
Clearly, her only chance lay in escape.

“It won’t be long before the priest
arrives. I’ll have my men bring up your trunks. Dress properly for the
wedding.”

For the first time, the
helplessness of her situation struck her. “I...I only have a small travel
chest. I’m certain I have nothing more appropriate...than...”

She watched his gaze dip down and
fix on her breasts as her heart hammered in response. “Then I shall ask the
priest to join us in this chamber. It certainly will make for a quick
consummation.”

“I didn’t mean my shift. What I was
trying to say is that I have no dress fine enough...”

Catherine stopped, no longer able
to continue as he stared silently down at her for another long moment. Finally,
without another word, he stepped around her and left the room.

She waited until she heard the
heavy door shut, listening for a moment more, and then she sprang into action.
She had very little time and certainly no options--other than to escape this
wild man and somehow find her way to the place where Laura had been sent to the
north. Or was it the northeast? It was along the coast somewhere, of that she
was certain. She knew this was not the time to worry about her route. Once she
was away from here and free of Athol, then she could search out a way.

Forced marriage to a man like him
would be her destruction. In the short moments they’d been in each other’s
company, he’d affected her senses. He’d made her mind a jumble, her body soft
and willing. This certainly would not do! She couldn’t throw away a lifetime of
learning for one night’s pleasure. And this would be the extent of it,
Catherine thought, remembering his words. He only wanted a willing body and an
heir. One night! That would be all!

Well! He would have to find someone
else! Shaking her head, she ran into the Ladies Chamber. In fact, her only
chance of escape lay in leaving in the guise of someone else.

Opening the door that led into the
small anteroom, Catherine looked for the traveling bags she had seen before.
Spying them in the corner, she quietly carried one of the heavy leather bags back
into her chamber.