His Bonnie Bride (7 page)

The one thing that truly amazed him was her lack of awareness concerning her own beauty and attraction for a man. Features that had promised beauty on the small girl had fulfilled their boast. Her wide, slanted amber eyes still seemed to fill her small heart-shaped face, thick, long brown lashes giving them a sensual look, and the tilted brown brows accentuating their shape. No changes had occurred in the satiny alabaster skin, but the full mouth had lost its childishness and now begged to be kissed. Tavis did not think she had grown all that much taller, but she had gained all that was needed to heat a man's blood and carried it with a graceful, unconscious sensuality that was seduction itself.

It was as the meal drew to a close that the MacLagan messenger finally returned from Hagaleah. The sinking feeling that Storm experienced as the laird read the missive with an easily discernible frown told her that she had been foolish enough to harbor the small hope that the ransom would be paid, that she and Phelan would be released. She was curious as to whether her father's wife had openly tossed her to the wolves or was employing a subtle delaying tactic. The laird's face as he handed her the reply told Storm that she was not going to like it.

The blatant falsehood that excused Lady Mary from immediately paying the ransom made Storm laugh softly. There was little chance that she would have chased her father and brother to France. Even if she had not enough sense to fear the war, she would have feared her father's wrath. However, it gave the woman the needed excuse for delay, requesting proof that the MacLagans did, indeed, hold her and her cousin Phelan as prisoners, for the ransom was too high to hand over without such proof.

"I daresay my head on a salver would be the proof she craves," Storm drawled, smiling faintly. "So what do ye do now, m'lord? 'Tis my thought that this delay will soon become an outright refusal."

"Aye," Colin agreed with a frown, but then he smiled. "Your head is indeed the answer. A lock of that hair. 'Tis a rare color. There'll be few that have it. 'Tis proof enough. We'll send it and see what she replies. I cannae believe she is so confident she can see to your father's end, therefore can refuse to aid ye. We have tried for years."

Storm nodded. "As my father has always expected ye to. 'Tis true," she continued when she saw that she had everyone's full attention, "that the marriage is no marriage despite my two half brothers. My father knows of Lady Mary's many faults, but he does not see her evil nor her cunning. He feels that she should be content in that she wants for naught and thus pays little heed to her. As with most men, he would not look to a woman for his final fall, he being a strong knight, a skilled fighter."

"Why should he?" asked Sholto with the scorn of a man possessing an agile, strong sword arm.

"She has allies. I doubt not she could raise an army to fight him if she but called upon all her lovers," Storm drawled.

"Aye, but he has fought us often and come away alive, most oft unscathed," Iain pointed out.

"Would ye draw a sword upon the man ye trusted to run your lands ere he had drawn one upon you? Nay, I thought not. My father would expect no threat from that quarter. Being an honorable man, my father would ne'er expect a knife in the back, and I fear that is my stepmother's way." Storm shook her head, a sadness settling upon her face. "I did not see her plan until 'twas too late to warn my father. She will do her best to see that he and Drew do not return."

"And ye?" Tavis asked, his mind on the fact that the ransom had been refused, so he need not go softly with her any longer, could at last indulge in more than a gentle wooing.

"She would rejoice to be free of me as well. The woman detests me. Has always done so. I made matters worse by aiding Mistress Bailey, a widow who would no doubt be the next Lady Eldon if Lady Mary died. Mistress Bailey has been my father's mistress and the wife of his heart for five years now. She has given him two children. Lady Mary had a plan to be rid of the woman as soon as my father was gone. She hired men to attack Mistress Bailey and the babes as they traveled to relatives. I was able to get warning to her so that the plan failed, but I fear Lady Mary found out what I had done."

"Hagaleah sounds a right bed of intrigue," Iain said with a shake of his head. "I cannae believe a woman could kill a man like your father. A woman isnae made for plotting a murder so coldly."

"Is she not? I mean no faulting of my sex for we, as men, have our good and our bad, but I think a woman is very much capable of it. A woman is a creature of strong emotion and has not been filled from birth with ideals of honor. I know men feel we have none, do not understand it. Have none of you gentlemen found yourself the victim of some female machination, some ploy you failed to see until she had gained her end?" She nodded when she saw uncomfortable recollection flicker over many a man's face. "A woman can have cunning, and her very softness makes it more effective. Aye, a woman can plot a murder, mayhaps better than a man, for I believe she can hate better, hate with a cold clarity that oft eludes a man."

"Ye really believe she'll not send the ransom for ye," Colin commented. "I will try again, ye ken."

"Aye, ye can try all ye like, but I think the lady will delay until she feels sure that my father will ne'er return or, mayhaps, until Sir Hugh urges her to fetch me. She will not honor the usual way of ransoming, I am thinking. The woman will be loathe to hand over a bag of rotten meal for me and Phelan." She looked at Colin, one shapely brow quirked in question. "So, m'lord, what plan ye for us if I prove right?"

"Ye'll stay here," Tavis replied, cutting off any reply his father could have made.

Storm noticed the sudden silence at the table and frowned. From the various expressions and the pointed lack of such on the faces around her she knew they were aware of something she was not. For a brief instant she feared death, but the fear was quick to fade, for she felt sure the MacLagans would not kill a helpless woman and child. Without a chance of ransom, however, she saw no point in them keeping her and Phelan at Caraidland. She could not see them keeping her and Phelan until her father returned either, for his return was uncertain at best. It was a very large puzzle to her, and growing larger.

Tavis watched the confusion flash across her lovely face. He thought wryly that he must have behaved himself very well indeed if he had left her with no idea of what he wanted or, at least, so little one that it was not the first to come to mind. It would soon be the first thought upon her mind, however, for now that the ransom had been more or less refused and would probably not be forthcoming at all, he no longer felt bound to go gently as he had promised his father. She could look upon it as a ransom of sorts. He would have her and it would be soon.

"What is the point if I can bring ye no ransom?" she queried in bewilderment.

"Ye'll stay here, ransom or nay, 'til I say ye may leave," he said softly, turning to look fully at her where she sat at his side. "So I'll hear no more questions about it."

His autocratic tone put fire in her eyes, her precarious position as a prisoner forgotten for the moment. " 'Tis my right to know what ye want with me, why ye insist that I stay here when there can be no profit in it for ye."

"So ye wish to ken what I want with ye," Tavis drawled as he grasped her by the shoulders. "Allow me to demonstrate," he purred, yanking her into his arms as he had wanted to for days.

At first Storm was so surprised that she was still in his arms. It was when his warm, soft lips began to stir a heat within her that she came to life. She quickly found that it was not easy to fight a man's hold while sitting down. Despite the fact that fury, a fury increased by the audible amusement of the others at the table, gave her added strength, Storm also discovered that trying to fight Tavis was akin to beating her head against a wall. Although being kissed before an audience was not at all to her liking, most of her fight came from a fright of the response her body was showing. She knew a surge of white-hot rage when he released her and grinned at her. It blinded her to the fact that he was clearly moved by the kiss.

The blaze in her amber eyes fascinated Tavis almost as much as the kiss had pleasured him. He did not think he had ever seen a woman look so gloriously angry. It disappointed him somewhat when, in a typical outraged-maiden tactic, she moved to slap his face. He easily caught her wrist, but then suddenly felt a surprisingly strong little fist connect with his jaw, catching him unawares and sending him off the bench to sprawl on the floor. Tavis was caught up in a mixture of anger and amusement. The snickers he could hear his family and the men indulging in mattered little to him. He was too interested in Storm.

"I forgot what a wee scrapper ye are, but now ye ken why ye'll stay here," he said, watching as she left her seat to stand and glare at him, her lovely hands planted firmly on her slim hips.

"Oh, I understand. Slow to grasp your intentions I may have been, but 'tis clear as a bell now. Ye are no better than that slimy toad Sir Hugh."

"An I was, lass, ye'd be well used by now," he snarled as he stood up to tower over her, his temper having gained the upper hand when she compared him to the Englishman.

"Used mayhaps," she sneered, "but 'tis a question as to whether it be well or nay."

Colin briefly thought of putting a halt to the swiftly worsening argument, but only briefly. The couple had squared off before and he found it far too entertaining to end. If the subject was not exactly genteel, it was of little consequence, for all there knew what Tavis had planned for the girl. It was simply a question of when he would take it and how hard he would have to work for it. Tavis never having suffered a problem with the women, it was of interest to them all to see him meet resistance.

Grasping her by the wrists, Tavis growled, "Weel, mayhaps we should go and see how weel I use ye."

Storm could not hit him as she wanted to, but she was not totally disarmed. She gave him a kick in the shins and he yelped gratifyingly. It was hardly the way to ingratiate herself to the man who held her fate in his hands, but she was too furious to think on that. Since the day she had become a woman she had suffered from men's unwanted advances, her status as only daughter to a powerful border lord not serving as all that much protection. Long ago she had given up trying to politely repel such advances.

"Spare me, please. I have just dined." She fruitlessly tried to free her wrists from his grip.

Although Tavis had never been repulsed by any woman he had set his eyes upon, it was not solely her reluctance that stirred his anger. He felt he could understand her reluctance. After all, she was gently born, a woman whose virginity was guarded as well as any castle and was considered as great a prize. Any man who wed her would expect her innocence to be intact, and to lose that could mean that her future was irrevocably altered for the worse. His anger stemmed from the fact that he ached for her as he had for no other woman, yet she seemed not to suffer at all from the same malady.

"Then I'll remember to catch ye atween meals," he purred.

She recognized the soft tone that was indicative of his rage but ignored it. "Ye'll catch me not at all, MacLagan, or ye best watch out for your life," she hissed. "I will kill the man who dishonors me."

"And how will ye do that?" he scoffed. "Ye havenae any weapons, lass."

Her voice was a soft, chilling purr as she said, "An I must, I will tear out your throat with my teeth."

So startled was Tavis that he lost his grip, and she broke free to head toward the door, her slim back stiff with anger, Phelan at her heels. Angus quickly moved to take up his post as guard and escort. Tavis strode over to her, catching her by the arm before she went out of the hall. Neither cared nor really noticed that everyone was very quiet in the hope of hearing every word spoken.

"Aye, retreat to your chambers, lass, but ye'll nay escape me. Those at Hagaleah seem loathe to pay a tithe for ye, so we'll settle the cost o' your release another way, a way to please me."

Indicating that she must act the whore to gain her freedom was not the way to dampen the anger that seethed through her, and Storm wondered how he failed to see that. "Pleasure is the last thing ye will gain ere ye touch me, MacLagan. And I cannot stop ye, I'll be as cold as the coin Hagaleah denies ye. So come if ye will and have your lust taste ice. I'll nay give ye e'en the pleasure of a poxy tuppence whore."

" 'Tis a challenge ye offer me, lass, and 'twill ne'er be long before I pick up the gauntlet."

" 'Tis nay a challenge for a man of your strength to subdue a lass. 'Tis merely rape, sir, a common enough amusement practiced by many a man. None of ye can heed a nay as I have learned well."

What Travis was prepared to reply to that was lost, for their argument was abruptly interrupted. A buxom young woman several inches taller than Storm with midnight-black hair, creamy skin and hazel eyes burst into the hall and flung herself at Tavis. The ensuing embrace did little to calm Storm, but she refused to examine why the sight of the two kissing should cause her insides to knot up, telling herself that the proof that her dishonoring would merely be another careless tussle for the man was the cause.

Dislodging the woman who had served his basic needs for two years was not easy for Tavis. She had a fierce grip on him. He cared not at all for her past a surface desire and was furious that she had come without invitation. The undisguised scorn he read in Storm's lovely eyes only added to his anger, for he did not want to rape Storm but make love to her. The presence of his mistress would certainly aid Storm in fortifying herself against any persuasion he could bring to bear. It suddenly came to his attention that, despite Kate's impassioned embrace, he still held on to Storm. Kate's notice of that as well as her narrowed eyes made Tavis think Kate would solve his dilemma herself. She had ever been hot-tempered and jealous, expecting of him what he had never offered.

"Who is your guest, Tavis?" Katerine asked between clenched teeth.