Highland Tides (12 page)

It came to her as she touched her fingertips to her lips that there was another man standing with him. Despite her resolve, her eyes wandered. She gasped at the resemblance the two men shared.

“Who is this?” her uncle demanded, his sword halfway out of its scabbard.

“I am Braden Ogilvie, my lord Earl,” the newcomer said with great deference and a courtly bow. “I am Callum’s brother and with yer permission I’ll act as his second.”

Callum eyed this Braden as if he’d lost his wits, but her uncle accepted the offer and sheathed his sword, much to her relief. She didn’t want to marry the ne’er-do-well but had no wish to see him butchered.

“So be it,” the Earl said, grasping Lexi’s hand and joining it with her groom’s. “Into the main room. Quickly. I’ve important matters to attend to.”

Lexi’s belief her only living relative had no love for her was confirmed. Power was his mistress and she feared his ambition would destroy him and their noble family name. Her heart broke. She had nothing left to live for.

As they entered the main room, Callum Ogilvie squeezed her hand and whispered. “Ye look beautiful. What’s yer name?”

Callum doubted any lovely young woman would wish to be married in such circumstances, and in a tavern to boot, especially to a stranger she had no wish to wed. He’d an urge to explain what he was doing in her bed, but what to say when he didn’t understand it.

He had intended to ease her pain by complimenting her beauty. For a moment he feared his bride might spit at him, but then she hissed, “Alexandra Elizabeth Mary Hepburn.”

Mayhap she didn’t appreciate how lovely she was, even in her anger. The dark green riding habit clung to her maiden’s breasts and shapely hips. He’d never seen such fiery hair, and the curls! Would she let him sift his fingers through them once they were abed together?

The prospect sent blood rushing to his groin, but also made his gut clench. He had no notion of what might happen after the ceremony. The Earl had made it clear he was anxious to be away and it seemed unlikely he would want them to accompany him. Callum had no coin to pay for the upstairs room.
 

The richly-robed cleric intoned the Latin rite as if the hounds of hell were in hot pursuit. Callum looked to Brandon for reassurance. His brother merely smiled, passing something metal into his hand.

He glanced down at his open palm. He’d never known his brother to wear a ring, but he was grateful to have something to offer his bride.

The weight of the gold, still holding the warmth from his brother’s finger, persuaded him he was indeed still alive. Was there truth in Braden’s incredible story?

He and his bride murmured their vows, pledging to each other. When the moment came for him to slip the ring on her finger, his hand trembled. It was far too big. She was a noblewoman who deserved better. He risked a glance, hoping she would see regret for the gaffe in his eyes. To his immense surprise she smiled. It was brief, and she didn’t smile again, but it was enough to lighten his heart and send pleasant stirrings up his thighs and into his shaft. Red hair and a stunning smile; what more could a man want!

The Earl shifted his feet constantly and left as Callum prepared to kiss his bride. The desolation on Alexandra’s face struck Callum full force. He itched to seize the arrogant nobleman by the shoulders and shake him. This was a marriage he hadn’t expected, nor wanted, but he swore a silent oath to honor the vows he’d made and protect her. It was evident her uncle didn’t care. He wondered what business was so urgent it compelled a man to abandon his flesh and blood.
 

If he had been given a second chance at life, for better or worse he and Alexandra were married and would have to make the best of it. His first kiss had been prompted by a need to silence a screeching woman. Now he longed to kiss away the hurt and resentment, to reassure his wife of his commitment, but he didn’t want to alarm her.

He took her cold hands in his. She held herself rigid, big green eyes staring at him like a frightened doe ready to bolt. He smiled and bent to touch his mouth to hers. Her lips remained firmly closed against any possibility of his tongue entering. Gently, he pulled on her bottom lip with his teeth, then withdrew. She swayed as some of the stiffness left her. He touched his hand to the small of her back, to let her know she had his support. “I won’t let you fall,” he whispered.

She frowned, eyeing him with distrust. “I’ve already fallen, thanks to ye, Callum Ogilvie,” she murmured.

~~~

Firmly convinced her new husband was a philanderer who’d somehow contrived to take advantage, Lexi’s anxiety subsided somewhat when his kiss wasn’t intrusive. But she was troubled. The kiss was chaste, yet the gentle tug on her bottom lip sent peculiar and not unpleasant sensations rushing up her thighs and into her most intimate place. His withdrawal left her strangely disappointed.

Callum Ogilvie was either a skilled lover, or a gentle soul who was as much a victim as she was. His kiss said the former, and the prospect had muscles clenching she didn’t know she had, much to her annoyance.

His brown eyes were filled with sincerity. Was he toying with her? Had this fiasco been his plan from the start? She knew nothing of this man she’d been forced to marry. How could he be a victim? A suspicion still lingered that her uncle had plotted the scheme in order to be rid of her. He was capable of much worse.

However, the marriage was an undeniable reality and she would remain faithful to her husband, though he would never hold her heart, despite the reassuring heat of his hand on her back.

She supposed she should be grateful she hadn’t wed a decrepit old man; at least Callum was young, and handsome, and well formed. Truth be told he was the kind of husband she’d dreamed of before her vocation.

Crivvens
! Again with the tingling sensations and ridiculous notions!

She fisted the hand with the overlarge ring, running her thumb over it. The token was much too big, but at least he’d given her something, and she didn’t want to lose it. A brief glimpse as he’d slipped it onto her finger led her to believe it was a beautifully designed piece of jewellery. She had a feeling his brother had lent it to him.

But where had this Braden Ogilvie appeared from? Surely his arrival confirmed a conspiracy? The resemblance they shared proved they were brothers, but he seemed more sure of himself than Callum, older certainly, but with a confidence born of experience. And evidently married, judging by the costly ring. What was his history? And where was his wife? Perhaps they would become friends.

She shoved the notion aside. She had no intention of exposing her emotions to Callum nor to any member of his family. Wifely duties were one thing, love and forgiveness quite another.

~~~

On the one hand, Braden was elated his brother had found a beautiful bride. He recalled his own confusion upon first awakening in the cells of Inbhir Nis. He had much to share that might be helpful to his sibling.

However, Alexandra Hepburn seemed deeply unhappy. She’d barely acknowledged Braden’s polite kiss of congratulations on the cheek.

And that uncle of hers. He’d have to warn her about his schemes for Queen Mary. He pitied the ill-fated queen.

From what he remembered of Charlotte’s tuition, Bothwell’s abduction of Queen Mary had taken place less than a sennight after the Ainslie Tavern Bond when a score of nobles and bishops had given written support for the Earl’s bid to marry the monarch. Braden was powerless to change those events, but he’d do whatever was necessary to protect Callum and his Hepburn bride who stood side by side, looking like two lost sheep. He recalled how difficult it had been for him and Charlotte to keep their hands off each other after the ceremony. Mayhap once they got to their chamber the newlyweds might warm to each other.

The tavern keeper lingered, wiping a sleeve across her runny nose, eyeing the couple with a scowl on her face, and it dawned on him the Earl had left without paying for the chamber for another night.

They needed coin. He had only two things of value, the ring he’d loaned to Callum, and Charlotte’s amber. He had no intention of parting with the ancient stone. Mayhap his doublet? It was April; his trusty plaid should be enough to keep him warm.

He drew the wench aside. “Mistress Ainslie, what say ye to a trade?”

Her frown deepened, but her eyes lit with interest as she thrust out her copious breasts. “What did ye hae in mind?”

“Not that kind of trade,” he replied quickly lest she get the wrong idea. “We need chambers and food for three days.”

She pouted, digging her fingers into his bicep. “’Tis a pity. For a tumble with the likes o’ ye, I’d offer lodging for a sennight.”

He kept the smile pasted on his face, though his gut tightened. “I’m a married man, Mistress,” he said. “What I had in mind was my doublet in exchange for the rooms.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Tek it off then. Lemme see.”

He lay aside his plaid and removed the doublet. She seemed more interested in watching him than in the garment, so he didn’t cover his shirt with the plaid. “As ye see, ’tis a fine doublet. Ye can easily sell it for a goodly amount.”

She tore her eyes away from his chest and carefully inspected every seam and embellishment, sniffling all the while. “This is unusual tailorin’,” she remarked. “Where’d ye get it?”

He chuckled. “Ye wouldna believe me if I told ye. Do we hae a bargain?”

She sucked on her rotten teeth. “Two days.”

“Three, and a horse when we leave.”

She laughed out loud, elbowing him in the ribs. “Saucy ye are, I’ll grant. Two days and a donkey.”

“Done.”

“Yon newly weds can stay in the lass’s chamber and ye can tek t’other upstairs.”

“Any chance of a wee spread for luncheon?” he asked politely.

“Lunchun? Sounds swanky. Aye, there’ll be broth shortly.” She sped off, cackling like a witch, the doublet clutched to her bosom.

Braden returned to the happy couple. “I’ve secured our lodgings. Ye both can stay in the chamber Alexandra occupied. I’ll be next door. Mistress Ainslie will provide victuals soon.”

They stared at him.
 

“We only have the chambers for two nights. Best get on with it,” he quipped with a wink at his brother.

Callum blushed, but he made a courtly bow to his wife and offered his arm. “My lady,” he said.

To Braden’s surprise, Alexandra held out his ring to him. “I believe this is yours. It’s too big for me, but I thank you.”

He suspected she was grateful for more than the ring, but seemed to have difficulty telling him.

He slipped the ring on his finger, savoring the memory of his wedding ceremony and wondering if his cautious brother had any idea what to do with a woman in bed.

Bollocks
! Of course he did. Braden had boasted of his own prowess often enough, Callum had to have listened to some of it.

Callum’s bride squealed with surprise when he scooped her up, kicked open the door of their chamber and carried her inside. She didn’t smile, but it was enough she clung to his neck, holding her breath.

Finding no chair, he set her down on the edge of the bed. She fidgeted with her hair then smoothed out her skirts, but avoided his gaze. He bent the knee and took hold of her hands. “Alexandra, I swear to ye I dinna ken how I came to be in yer bed. Ye must believe me.”

She tried to pull away, but he held fast.

“And I suppose your brother just happened to come by on the same day,” she sneered.

The sneer marred her beauty. “I prefer to see ye smile,” he quipped, then hurried on when her expression threatened to turn to fury. “Braden didna have a chance to explain everything to me, but I’m certain when we go down for our meal, he’ll clarify the situation.”

He wished he was as confident as he sounded.

She scoffed. “I suppose you want to claim your husbandly rights before we descend,” she replied sarcastically.

Callum was a virgin, but that didn’t mean he’d never been tempted. Remaining chaste hadn’t been easy, especially with a brother like Braden. It was fortuitous young Donal was something of a religious zealot who everyone in the family expected would become a priest, much to their mother’s delight. He’d kept Callum on the straight and narrow.

Alexandra’s skin had warmed in his grasp. He had a suspicion she’d be more willing than she seemed if he pressed her. She was a desirable woman who aroused him, but her reluctance stuck in his throat. He let go of her hands and came to his feet. “I ken ye willna believe when I tell ye I’ve striven to save myself for my wedding day, but I’m nay interested in taking ye against yer will.”

Her mouth fell open. Her bottom lip quivered. “You’re right. I don’t believe you,” she murmured.

The notion of spending the afternoon coaxing the frown from her face appealed momentarily, but Braden’s incredible tale picked at him. Mayhap with more of the story he’d have a better chance with his new bride. “I’m hungry,” he said truthfully, taking her hand. “Let’s away downstairs. The broth smells good.”

Indecision flickered in her eyes, but then he supposed hunger won out and she allowed him to lead her from the chamber.

~~~

Braden was tucking into the tasty broth when Callum and Alexandra appeared. She didn’t look like a woman who’d been well bedded, or bedded at all. It saddened him they obviously hadn’t consummated their marriage. True they’d had scant time, but when a man and woman were consumed with need for each other—

His thoughts turned once more to his beloved Charlotte. Did she miss him? Was she waiting, or had she moved on? He’d wager John Reade would be ready to step into the role of protector. Reluctantly, he admitted that might be a good thing. Reade was an honorable man who would look after her. But what if they’d conceived a bairn in their brief time together? He closed his eyes conjuring a vision of a miniature replica of Charlotte; the wayward hair, the bright smile—

“Your brother looks like he’s miles away,” Alexandra remarked, jolting him back to the tavern.