Highlander's Bride (Heart of the Highlander Series Book 1) (20 page)

Malcolm, already dressed in the clothing of a
warrior, came over to him with a steaming plate of haggis and a mug of watered
wine. The smell of the strongly flavored meat set Alexander's stomach lurching.
He shoved past his man-at-arms and stumbled away, retching.

Eventually his gut emptied and his head cleared enough
to allow him to walk to a nearby stream to cool his burning face and throat. By
God, he'd not felt this foul since he and Davey had hidden in the ale cellars
as young lads and gotten soused on green ale.

Gritting his teeth, he dunked his head under the
water's icy surface. The mountain stream came from high in the hills where snow
was late to melt. The frigid water shocked his system awake as no food could
have done. Shaking the cold water from his face, he returned to the campsite.
Without a word, he mounted Tursachan and headed toward Castle Ironwood. Davey
and Malcolm rode equally silent beside him as their troops fell in behind.

Even nature seemed to turn against him. Heavy wind
and rain greatly slowed their progress. The stinging torrent slashed at the
men's faces, arms, and legs. Even the swath of their great kilts pulled up to
cover them couldn't provide much relief from the downpour.

After several miles, Drummond called out through
the roar of the wind. "Alexander, we must find shelter. 'Twill do no good
to push our mounts and ourselves so. Come, there is a cave ahead. We'll rest
for a while and begin again when the storm lets up."

Although exhausted from his arduous journey to
During Castle, and sleeping outside in the cold mist, Alexander shook his head.
In stubborn silence, he urged his horse on. He could barely hear Malcolm's
voice as he, too, called out against the tempest. "Dinna be a fool, lad.
Ye'll drop from exhaustion long before ye get there."

Fury surged through Alexander's veins, temporarily
filling him with energy. He turned in his saddle and shouted at his companions.
"Stay behind and dry your sniveling noses. I need none of your help."
With that, he dug his heels into Tursachan's sides and galloped ahead.

Drummond called out, "You great arse. 'Twould
serve you right if we left you to your own fight." Then he turned to
Malcolm. "Och, Hellfire. Let's go." He yelled to the men, and they
spurred their horses forward.

**

Although the storm had ended, it was near dusk when
they neared their destination. Drummond and Malcolm urged Alexander to make
camp for a night's rest before proceeding, but he would have none of it.
Leaving his men lagging behind, he spurred Tursachan into a gallop for the
castle. The need to purge himself of the treachery dealt him by his wife and
brother burned inside him like a fiery brand. Soon. Soon he would end his
torment.

He glanced back as the distance widened between
him and his friends and saw Davey motion to Malcolm to leave the armed men
behind and do their best to catch up with him before he entered the castle. He
smiled grimly. Let them try. They wouldn't stop him.

Seeing the MacGregor and Drummond banners of the
oncoming armies, guards on the castle walls opened the gates and raised the
portcullis.

Alexander galloped past startled servants in the
inner bailey and jerked to a sudden halt in front of the keep. He vaulted from
the saddle, and wielding his broadsword, ran up the steps and into the keep.
The corridor was empty allowing him unhampered entry to the great hall. His
heart froze as he skidded into the room.

Dear God. There they were. They were both alive
and unharmed! For the briefest of moments, relief swept over him that they had
not fallen to harm as the wool merchant's words had implied. Then he noticed
how Katherine sat on a stool drawn up close to William as he reclined leisurely
on a cushioned bench. A small table with an ornate chessboard sat in front of
them. Her laughter bubbled as she moved a piece and leaned close to whisper
something to her companion, their heads bent near each other. …Like lovers.

'Twas more than Alexander could stand. Anger
propelled him forward like a catapult. Brandishing his sword and shouting, he
lunged at the small table with his heavy steel blade, sending it toppling to
the floor. Chess pieces scattered at the startled couple's feet.

 Katherine screamed. Her hand reached for William.
Shock and fear filled their faces as they looked up in astonishment.
Alexander's heart hardened at the sight. Aye, they were right to fear, but
'twould change nothing.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw one
of William's men run toward him, his own sword raised in attack. Stepping to
the side, he thrust the point of his blade to his brother's throat and shouted
at the advancing man, "Drop your sword and stand back!"

As William's man did as he was ordered, Katherine
rose from her chair. She shrieked at Alexander, "Sweet Mother of Christ.
Alexander, stop! What madness is this?"

He held his brother at sword point with one hand
and pushed her back to her seat with the other. "Cursed witch, did you
really think you would get away with your foul deeds? You know nothing if you
think I wouldn't ride to the ends of the earth to have my revenge. You risked
much in your greed. Now you shall know nothing but pain and sorrow for
it!"

 Alexander looked back at his brother's pale face,
then to the shining blade of death he held gripped in his hand. He should
skewer the pair!

 Sweet Jesus, he couldn't do it.

Running footsteps and shouting drew his attention
as Drummond and Malcolm charged into the hall followed by their men and castle
servants.

"Alex!" Drummond shouted. "Stay
your hand!"

As the two men reached his side, he drew back his
sword a few inches. He could never force himself to end his brother's life, but
neither could he let him go unpunished. Seeing his brother's man eyeing his
sword, Alexander called out in rage. "Davey, Malcolm, get these bastards
out of my sight!"

Knowing they would do as he ordered, Alexander
turned to Katherine and pointed his broadsword to the base of her slim neck.
His voice hardened with contempt as he spat out, "You beautiful bitch. I
didn't want to believe it when I learned of your deceit, but obviously 'tis
true. You are more vile than the serpent of Eden for the pain you have brought
me and my clan." With that, he quickly sheathed his sword and grabbed her,
pinning her arms behind her.

Half dragging and half carrying her, he pulled her
from the hall and mounted the stairs to the second floor where the laird's
private chamber was located. He threw open the door without loosening his hold
on her, pushed her inside and kicked the door closed behind him.

Stumbling to the huge bed, she clung to one of the
sturdy bedposts for support.

He threw the bolt home on the door and shoved his
dirk into the doorframe, ensuring no one could open it from the outside.

Katherine shrank from him in silence as he
advanced. The terrified expression on her face spoke for her. He could see it
in her eyes—she thought him mad. His gut twisted. Perhaps she had it aright.
He'd lost all sense of reason. She had brought him to this.

Suddenly she ran for the door.

Alexander swung his arm out and caught her.
"No, you don't. I'm not through with you." He picked up her trembling
form, carried her several feet from the door, then put her down again. 

She stood facing him as he tore away his hauberk
and clothing, leaving only his chausses covering his manhood. Her look of
frightened confusion changed to anger.

He stood nearly naked before her; an inner fire
burning within him for retribution. She deserved this for her treatment of him.
Aye, but he would not touch her, not before he knew why.

Silence reigned. The very air seemed to sizzle
between them. Damn. Why could he not just say what he meant to? He forced the
words from his dry lips. "Why did you do it, Katherine? You could have
chosen anyone to marry. If you didn't mean to be faithful to our vows, why
marry me? Surely with your beauty, you could have found a pliant, adoring
lover. 'Twas no need for our marriage, if that was all you wanted."

As he said the words, Fiona's laughter echoed in
his brain. His body tensed in renewed anger and his mouth pursed in a tight
thin line. "But you went too far when you wantonly involved my foolish
brother. I've come to take what you've been giving so freely to him and God
knows who else!"

Katherine threw her arms out in front of her.
"Stop, Alexander! I don't know what madness has driven you to accuse me
so. But as God sees my soul, there is no truth in what you say."

"You wanton harlot, dare you invoke God to
your side? I am done with listening to you ever again!" He ripped his
chausses from his hips and threw them to the floor.

Katherine gasped, "No, you can't do this. You
once told me you would never force an innocent maid."

"Aye, I did say it. But you are neither
innocent nor a maid. You take my name and my emotions and play with them as if
they mean no more than a child's toy."

"No, Alexander! I swear I've done naught to
deserve this! Your suspicions are wrong. Whatever madness has caused you to
doubt me, 'tis totally false."

Impatiently, he wiped his sweaty forehead. Even in
the chilly stone clad room, his anger drove his body to a fevered heat. For a
moment, disillusion and weariness threatened to bring him to his knees, but he
ignored the feeling, locking his leg muscles tightly. Nothing would keep him
from his revenge.

Katherine's tone changed, as if she hoped to
soothe away his rage. "Look at you. You are over weary. How can you think
clearly? Calm yourself and rest until the morrow. You will understand things
better by then, after you have slept and eaten. Then you will see there is no
reason for your doubt and anger."

Her words flowed across his anguished mind like a
cool breeze on a midsummer day. He almost wished to lose everything in calming
sleep. Almost. "No, Katherine. If you are innocent, as you claim, there is
only one way you can prove it. I am here for that proof. Now."

Even as anguished as he felt, Alexander knew in
his heart he wouldn't force her. Her action or denial would give him the proof
he sought.

Her face paled. "What? The only way you will
believe my innocence is for me to bed with you? Right now?"

"Aye, I would mean that, if 'twere possible.
But we both know how my brother and you have spent your time together. Don't
we?"

Katherine raised her chin and straightened her
shoulders in silence.

God, he recognized that pose. She'd stood that
way, in quiet dignity, when she had wished him well as he left her on their
wedding day. He'd thought her like a queen. Then.

Katherine let out a long audible sigh. If he
didn't know better, he would swear her voice almost held pity for him. "So
be it, Alexander, I will prove it to you. But the proof will be your
loss."

Slowly, she began to remove her garments one by
one, her gaze never straying from him. She stepped out of her leather slippers,
and then reached for her open surcoat. It fell to the floor. Her bottom lip
quivered as she unfastened her long, form-fitting tunic, but she didn't stop.
The tunic slowly slid down her legs and puddled at her feet. Finally her
undershift floated down and she stood nude before him.

He was awed by her beauty. And yet there was
something else about her. It was almost as if she clothed herself in dignity
against his angry gaze. Even in his enraged state, her beauty caused his
thoughts to blur. For a moment, he could only stare as she stood silent and
still before him. 

Dragging his hand across his eyes, he fought to
maintain his stance. The room suddenly became unbearably hot. The air was so
thin it was difficult to breathe. He felt lightheaded. Could he be wrong? Had
Fiona lied in her jealousy? Surely this beautiful, courageous woman could not
be the evil person she had been portrayed. But what of the proof? He had seen
it himself.

Katherine's golden hair billowed out about her in
disarray and patches of deep red stained her lovely face. The color drew
attention to her wide blue eyes. Silently, she faced him and waited. Her
breasts rose and sank with the rhythm of her rapid breathing, leaving his
fingers aching to touch her.

His eyes traveled downward past her slim waist, to
her rounded hips and then to the golden triangle between her legs. There was
the treasure that only he was meant to have. The portal that led to Heaven. Or
to Hell.

Katherine held her head high and walked to the bed
in silence. She lay down with her arms tight to her sides, and turned her face
to meet his gaze. 

His lust in seeing her lying naked before him and
his admiration for her spirit warred against each other and weakened his
resolve. Unsteadily, he made his way to the bed. Then he climbed onto it and
knelt above her. He hesitated, wondered, hoped.

What if it wasn't true? Could it all be a terrible
mistake? He watched as tense lines formed at the corners of Katherine's eyes.
Was it fear, anger, or something else? He couldn't tell.

Her bottom lip trembled. She spoke quickly, as if
to hide her emotions. "Faith, why do you hesitate, husband? Is it because
you realize you have been gravely mistaken about me? Or do you fear you won't
measure up to your brother?"

Her words rekindled his anger. He swiftly pinned
her to the mattress with his body and thrust deeply into her. He felt the tear
of her virginity and heard her cry out. Confused, he willed his body to stop,
but pent up anger and lust overrode his self-control, refusing to obey until
his seed exploded deep inside her. He tried to rouse his mind from the downward
spiral of exhaustion and satiety. But 'twas no use.

Wearily, he watched as she dragged herself away
from him. Her slow movements pulled the bloodied sheet after her. The white
linen smeared in bright red was the last thing he saw before the darkness took
him. God, he was a fool…