Highland Hero (40 page)

“Tatha? Did ye feel something for Sir David the verra moment ye set eyes on him?”

Tatha smiled at her blushing sister. “Aye, I did. Leith is a verra fine mon. Nay rich, but weelborn and holding a high place here.”

“Weel, aye, but he doesnae have a bride price.”

“Father still plays that game, does he?”

“I am nay sure.”

“Weel, if Leith wants ye, I think that, between him and David, they will talk our father ’round to liking the idea. Would ye be willing to marry a mon ye have but just met?”

“In a heartbeat.”

That was said with such conviction, Tatha did not even consider arguing with Elspeth. She decided it made her own qualms seem foolish. David had never spoken of love, but he did desire her. He was young, handsome, and she loved him. It was foolish to bemoan what she did not have when she was about to be given so much. She reached out and took Elspeth’s hand, squeezing it gently in a silent gesture of support and comfort. She turned her thoughts to hoping Elspeth would also get what she wanted.

“Just go and speak with the mon,” David urged, trying to hide his amusement over Leith’s agitation.

In a way, David was grateful for the distraction Leith’s problem caused him. It was preferable to wondering where his bride was and if, now that she was beginning to recover from the knock on her head, she would think to flee him as she had Sir Ranald. Turning his thoughts to helping Leith get the lass he had taken such a sudden fierce liking to kept him from racing up to Tatha’s bedchamber and making sure she was actually getting ready to marry him.

“He wants a bride price.” Leith dragged his hand through his hair. “I have naught. I am but your second-in-command. The lass could do better than me.”

“Ye have a lineage as fine as hers and, although ye may ne’er be rich, I dinnae think she will suffer any hardship living here with us.”

“She may wish her own household to lead.”

“Mayhap that can be arranged. I plan to claim Sir Ranald’s lands as a price for the murder of my mother. I may not get all of them, but I think something will be gained there. E’en if ye stay here, we may get ye a household of your own, a small one, aye, but one of your own.” He frowned at Leith. “Are ye now wondering if ye want her?”

“Nay. I ken ye may think it madness, but I took one look at that lass and I was sure. Sure she was all I could e’er want.” He straightened up and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Weel, there can be no harm in trying.”

“I will go with ye. I dinnae think the mon is that set on getting money for his daughters. His thinking may be odd, but he seems to just want them to get what he believes all lasses need—a mon, a home, and bairns.”

“I ken what ye want, lad,” said Sir Malcolm the moment Leith approached him. He sprawled a little more on the bench at the head table, sipped his ale, and studied Leith closely. “I dinnae suppose ye have any money.”

“Nay, not for a bride price, sir,” Leith replied solemnly, “but I am nay a pauper. I have enough that your daughter Elspeth willnae be clothed in rags or starve.”

“It sounds fine to me, Father,” Douglas said, smiling briefly at Leith, “if Elspeth agrees.”

Scowling at his son, who sat on his right, Sir Malcolm grumbled, “Aye, it would. ’Tis nay your purse that will go empty.”

“Your purse isnae that empty,” David said. “Ye still have the bride price Sir Ranald gave ye for Tatha, and since he didnae deal honestly with ye, I believe ye get to keep it.”

“Aye, which means I need nay ask one of ye, but it wasnae meant to pay for two of my lasses,” Sir Malcolm said.

“Ye still have seven.” David reached out to grasp his tankard off the table and slowly filled it with ale. “I also ken a lot of men, unwed men. Aye, they may not fatten your purse, but they have titles and lands. Allies can be important. I dinnae even mind if, now and again, a few of your lasses stay here, and mayhap they could meet a few of these fine, landed, unwed gentlemen. Fine, honorable men who are sometimes left alone, for they dinnae have quite enough to please those with weel-dowered lasses.”

“Ye have a clever tongue, lad. Aye”—he waved his hand at Leith—“if the lass wants ye, take her. I may not get any coin for her, but it does mean I dinnae have to pay for her keep any longer.” He looked at Leith when the young man enthusiastically shook his hand. “She is a spirited lass. Take care of her.”

“Oh, I will, sir,” Leith said even as he hurried out of the great hall.

“He means to pull her afore the priest today, eh?” Sir Malcolm grinned, then winked as he lifted his tankard. “Two more of the wretched lasses gone. My burden lessens by the hour.”

“I dinnae think it weighs as heavily upon your shoulders as ye wish the world to believe,” David murmured, then squarely met Sir Malcolm’s gaze. “He will cherish her.”

“Aye, ye could practically smell their besottedness.” He grinned when David and Douglas laughed, but then quickly returned to scowling. “And ye?”

“Tatha was mine the moment she set foot within my gates. It just took me a wee while to understand that.” He glanced toward the door, saw Tatha entering the great hall, and immediately moved to her side. “How are ye feeling, love?”

Tatha looked up at him as he took her hands in his. His gaze was warm and filled with concern. That look eased her nervousness. He could not look at her that way if he were feeling at all trapped.

“I am fine,” she replied. “I but ache some. I am glad I was ready to come down, for although I wasnae tossed from the room when Leith arrived, it was a near thing. Elspeth can somehow manage to shove a person out of a room yet make it look so benign.” She smiled when he laughed and began to lead her to a seat across the table from her father.

“The lad is eager to take advantage of the priest,” Sir Malcolm said, scowling blackly as he studied her bruises.

“Ye have agreed to his wedding her?” asked Tatha.

“Aye. They are besotted. I am glad I brought the priest.”

“Ah, I wondered where he had come from.”

“Weel, ’twas clear from what your mon wrote me that ye had been his guest since ye fled Prestonmoor. Ye are both young and bonnie. Felt a priest might be needed.” He cocked one dark brow but said nothing more when Tatha blushed.

“And how fare Isabel and Bega?” she asked cautiously.

“They are wed and gone. Isabel was already packing her things ere the words concerning her betrothal had left my mouth. Bega will do better on her own, nay longer under Isabel’s thumb.”

“They were nay unhappy, Tatha,” Douglas added quietly. “Truly.”

“And your mon is going to help me wed off some of the others,” Sir Malcolm said.

Sitting in his chair at the head of the table, David reached out to take Tatha’s hand. “I will introduce them to some fine unwed gentlemen. Ones who dinnae have one foot in the grave,” he added with a sly glance at her father. “ ’Twill be up to them after that.”

For a while they talked of the battle with Sir Ranald. Tatha told them all the man had confessed to her. Then David and her father got into an amiable argument about which one of them had the most right to try to lay claim to Sir Ranald’s lands. She realized that at some time during her rescue, David and her father had become almost friends. It even appeared that David had looked closely and understood that the gruff, blunt exterior of her father hid, if not a truly loving nature, at least kindness.

The arrival of Leith and Elspeth ended the discussion of lands. The couple held hands and blushed as they reached the table. Their blushes deepened when Sir Malcolm grunted and awkwardly patted both young people on the shoulder.

“So there will be two weddings?” Sir Malcolm asked.

“Aye, Papa,” replied Elspeth.

“Good. Good. Now ye will be his problem.”

“Aye, I will, and I intend to be a verra big one.”

“That’s my lass. Always do your best. Douglas, move yourself and fetch the priest.”

All of Tatha’s doubts and concerns returned in full strength as she and David knelt before the priest. She tried to judge what David felt by the way he said his vows, then by the way he kissed her after they were made, but it only made her head hurt. Tatha was relieved when he led her away from the increasingly boisterous celebration early. She suspected the reticence the guests showed, their comments tempered, nearly polite, was because she had so obviously been through an ordeal. She hoped Leith and Elspeth did not have to suffer any extra tormenting because of it.

Once in their room, David helped her undress and slip on her night shift. They crawled into the bed and he held her close. His kisses and the way he gently stroked her told Tatha that he was not going to demand anything of her tonight.

“ ’Tis our wedding night,” she said as she caressed his chest.

“Aye, but I can wait. Nay long,” he said teasingly, “but at least until ye dinnae ache so badly.”

“I think the time in the dungeon made me too weak to fight the fool off,” she murmured, touching a kiss to his chest and feeling him tremble.

“Ye should ne’er have left, Tatha.”

“I had to. My being here was tying your hands. Ye couldnae act as ye had to because all would question it as long as I was in your bed. How did ye get my father here?”

“I told him the truth. He isnae as hard as I thought.”

“Nay, he isnae a bad mon. I may have erred in thinking I couldnae talk him out of the wedding he had arranged, but I fear I could think of naught but running when I heard Sir Ranald’s name.”

“Weel, it was foolish, as I think your father would have listened. I believe he simply doesnae ken how to show what he feels. Mayhap he was ne’er shown. He also seems to have a wee bit of difficulty understanding how others may feel about what he does or says. Howbeit, the moment he truly suspected ye were in danger he was here, armed and ready to fetch ye back. And he could see that Leith and Elspeth were besotted and gave little argument to a wedding.”

“Aye, the truth is in how he acts, nay in what he says. Did he force ye to wed me, David?” she asked softly.

“Nay, lass.” He tilted her face up to his and brushed a kiss over her mouth. “I wanted ye. In truth, I had long ago decided to wed ye, but there were a few matters that needed tending to first.”

“Ye ne’er said.”

“I ken it, and I should have. In truth, there was many a thing I should have said, and when I thought ye may be lost to me the words burned a hole in my gullet.” He touched a kiss to her small, straight nose. “Ye are mine, lass. That has been the way of it since the day ye rode up to my gates, but I was fool enough nay to see it. The thought that I might ne’er be able to hold ye again left me cold and empty.”

“Oh, David,” she whispered, and then hugged him. “I do love ye.” She frowned when he tensed.

“Ye love me?”

“Aye, but I willnae trouble ye about it—” she began, then found herself being heartily kissed.

“Idiot. I was about to tell ye that I love you.” He smiled when her eyes filled with tears, then lightly kissed away the one that trickled down her cheek. “That wasnae supposed to make ye cry.”

“Happiness can bring a woman to tears.” She slipped her hand down to his taut stomach. “Do ye ken, I really dinnae ache that badly. Perhaps, if ye werenae too vigorous—”

David laughed and tugged off her night shift. “That could prove a verra great challenge.”

Later, as she lay contentedly curled up in his arms, she decided he had more than adequately met that challenge. His lovemaking had been gentle, yet so filled with love that she had cried. Tatha smiled and wiped the last of the tears from her cheeks. She felt the warmth of his lips brush over her forehead and looked up at him.

“There is one thing I should like to do, David, if ye will allow it?”

He smiled down at her. “What?”

“I wish to go to the well,” she said, watching him warily.

“Tonight?”

“Aye. I ken such things make ye uneasy, but I wish to bless our marriage at the well. ’Tis what pulled me here. ’Tis what brought us together. And although I am ne’er sure how much of the old ways are to be believed, I just feel, weel, compelled to go to the well tonight.”

“Then we shall,” he said, and got up, glancing her way as they both began to dress. “Just what are we going to do when we get there?”