Read My Fair Highlander Online
Authors: Mary Wine
My Fair Highlander (16 page)
“Give us a moment alone.”
Ula and Vanora both inclined their heads before leaving the chamber.
“I shouldn't have argued with you in public, I know that, but I'm not saying it to avoid the stocks, either.”
“Then why are ye saying it, lass?” Gordon crossed his arms over his chest, looking far too forbidding. It was another glimpse at that part of him accustomed to being in command.
“Because it is true. This world needs its rules. Without authority there would be nothing but lawlessness.”
His expression softened, but that only drew her mind back to what had happened the last time he was alone with her in the chamber.
“That doesn't mean I agree that Anyon should be lashed on my account.”
He growled at her, low and deep, leaving no doubt that he was growing frustrated with her.
“Since ye just agreed that rules are needed to maintain order, ye can nae disagree with me having her lashed. She tried to drown ye.”
Jemma sat up and felt her muscles ache with the effort. She tried to conceal the pain, but Gordon read it off her face and his eyes narrowed dangerously.
“She'll be getting those lashes, and those who stood there watching will be paying for it, too. I won't stand for having the women of this castle acting like a pack of wild dogs.”
“To what end? Punishment will only make your people detest me more. Besides, I gave her what she deserved and I hope she has a bruise marking her face.” Jemma crawled to the edge of the bed, determined to make her point to the stubborn man. “So you can save your pampering, Gordon Dwyre. I have no need of it.”
“Well now, Jemma, that would leave me only tenderness and passion to give ye.” His eyes flashed with hunger as his hands cupped the sides of her face. “I suppose I could yield to yer desire if ye agree to become my wife.”
“But why would you want to wed me? Your people detest me.” She shook her head but stopped abruptly when pain shoot through her skull. “All you and I do is fight when we are alone.”
And end up kissing . . .
Her cheeks burned with her thoughts.
“That is nae the reason ye hesitate to agree, Jemma. I would know yer reason to resist our union.”
His eyes filled with challenge, but she shook off his hands to stand up.
“You want to know my reason? Well, sir, I don't believe I know it myself. You brought me here only a few days past and set me here to deal with your mistress while taking away my boots to keep me from leaving. The hallway is rather chilly in the morning on bare feet, I can tell you. However much you might say you are outraged, I notice that you said nothing of sending her away. Did you soothe your desire last night with her once you left me? That would account for her temper this morning.”
Gordon crossed his arms over his chest. “She would have been content and smiling if I'd taken my hard cock to her yesterday. We had words last night that I should have realized might enrage her.”
Jemma felt her eyes widen. “You admit that you went to her last night after leaving me?”
Gordon shrugged, his body looking far too relaxed for the topic. Jemma felt as if her emotions were going to burst through her exterior and send her lunging toward him just like Anyon had attacked her. She was jealous and had no idea how to deal with it.
“I'll tell ye straight that she was waiting on me when I left ye last evening, and offered herself to me.” He lifted a hand and pointed a thick finger at her. “But I didna use her, which accounts for her rage this morning. She'll receive her lashes, and that will make an example to anyone else who might think to argue against who I bring here as my bride. Ye'll be mistress here.”
“You mean I will be your wife.”
His forehead creased with confusion. “My wife will be the mistress of this castle. They are one and the same.”
“I don't believe so. Those that you enjoy your riding with will always be considered more powerful than the Englishwoman you bring home for her dowry.”
He shook his head, but there was anger burning in his eyes. “Didna I prove anything to ye yesterday, Jemma? 'Twas yer trust I was hoping to secure by leaving ye a virgin.” He snorted. “I can see that has nae happened yet, but I swear that I will have ye one way or another.”
“Is that a threat?” She tossed her head and squared her shoulders. “Well, I am not frightened of you Gordon Dwyre.”
Only the way you make me feel.
He closed the distance between them, one hand cupping her chin in a firm hold.
“Which is why I promise ye that I will be sharing yer bed tonight. Ye aren't afraid of me because ye feel the same attraction that I do, 'tis a powerful thing and neither of us will be happy until we stop denying it. I wanted to give ye time to become accustomed to it, but I will nae have yer place here questioned again.”
“Don't you dare try to protect me.”
“And why not?” he snarled through his clenched teeth at her, obviously frustrated. “Not only am I laird here, but I brought ye here, Jemma, so protecting ye is a point of honor.”
“Would you allow me to step between you and any man that threatened you?”
He drew in a sharp breath. “I would not.”
“It is the same thing when you insist on stepping between me and your clanswomen. I'll deal with the women who try their hand at intimidating me, and I want you to stay out of it. There will be no lashings unless I order them.”
“That would only be yer place if ye are my wife, Jemma.”
“Our courtship is not a classical one, grant me my will, Barras, even if you don't agree it is my place to insist on it. I don't want you sheltering me.”
He stiffened but held his next words back. Jemma watched him fight back the urge to order her to accept his will. She was asking too much for the world that they lived in. A woman's place was beneath the authority of a man. She might also end up in the stocks with her back lashed for saying that she did not want to follow that natural order. It was considered unnatural and obviously something that needed to be cured.
Gordon suddenly chuckled. It wasn't a nice sound but one of contemplation.
“I'll grant the women mercy because I see that the only way I'll earn yer trust is to recognize that ye need some of the same things that I do. Ye need to know that ye aren't helpless, 'tis something I can see the value of. That is the reason we're so drawn to each other, Jemma, we're very much alike.”
“I disagree.”
He snorted with male amusement. “Exactly my point. Ye disagree because ye do nae care for me telling ye what to think. I like to keep me own counsel, too. Ye can speak yer mind freely behind closed doors, lass, but when it comes to the others ye will recall what ye said about this order coming from there being rules.”
“So I will remember my place? Is that your warning?”
“Nay, lass, my promise to ye is this. Ye may have the Church's blessing or not, but be very sure that I will be back to make sure ye have no doubt who eases my cock tonight.”
He hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her against his body while his mouth claimed hers in a hard kiss. There was nothing tender or teasing about it. His mouth demanded submission, and hers opened to allow his tongue to thrust deeply inside. Her passage ached for the same treatment. She wanted to be filled and all of her ignorance destroyed forever.
“You have no right.”
He snorted before releasing her. “What I am is honest, Jemma. Ye are a good match, but the thing that has me saying to make yer peace with wedding me today is the fact that even though I can nae see yer breasts, I know yer pink nipples are hard. Ye long for me as much as I do for ye, and I have the experience to tell ye that it will nay be easing. We're drawn to each other, and nature has her way of being stubborn. I'll be at the church at dusk.” His eyebrow rose. “And in yer bed by dark. I swear it to ye, Jemma, ye will be mine tonight.”
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The door slammed shut behind Gordon, making Jemma flinch.
Excitement burned along her limbs and pooled in her belly. Her clitoris throbbed with longing so intense it stopped only a tiny bit short of being painful.
In yer bed . . .
She shivered as she recalled his words. The rest of the day's events paled and fell aside as she became absorbed with recalling the deep timber of his voice. He was correct, her nipples were hard. The woman in her wasn't interested in the reasons why she didn't want to wed Gordon, and worse still her mind offered up the fact that he was far more accepting of her nature than any man she might hope her brother contracted.
But would Gordon remain that way? It wasn't the way men expected their world to be. It might just be that the burly Scot was once again employing a clever strategy to gain what he wanted before he closed his hand into an iron fist and lowered it upon her.
But even that fear wasn't a good reason to not marry him.
There was always the chance that Gordon was exactly as he appeared and that would be a far better husband than she might have dared to hope for. The reason was simple, she did desire him. So much so that she had to admit that she doubted her ability to send him away tonight if she refused to marry him. His kisses were intoxicating, and she knew that he would kiss her.
Someone knocked on the door, and it opened almost immediately. Ula pulled both sides of the doors open, and two boys carried a bathing tub in.
“I can bathe in the kitchen.”
Ula snapped her fingers at the boys who had stopped with the tub only halfway into the chamber. They jumped and hurried to finish their task.
“That wouldn't be fitting for the mistress of this castle.”
A line of maids entered, and every one of them lowered themselves before hurrying to lay out things to please even the most noble lady. One added wood to the fireplace, poking at the thick layer of ash to get at the coals. Soon there was a crackle and pop of wood catching fire. Lengths of linen were laid out carefully before the growing flames so that they would be warm and cozy when she finished bathing.
“I've fetched up a few dresses that belonged to the laird's mother. Silk does endure well, it seems. The styling is a bit older, but yer dress is showing a little too much wear for a wedding.”
“I still don't mind going below to bathe. It is a great deal of effort to haul water.”
Ula snorted. “I only wish I could set some of these over-prideful maids to carrying water. I believe it would do them well for it seems there is too much unkindness to suit me. A bit of hard work will fix that.”
The maids kept their heads down, but that didn't stop them from cutting quick looks at one another.
“But this tower has a water line, 'tis a fine comfort.” Ula pointed toward the window with pride ringing in her tone.
One of the lads opened up a set of shutters that did not reveal a glass window. This one was open to the afternoon air, but the opening was dipped in the center and one of the lads placed a copper trough into that spot, forming a deep “v.” It was long enough to reach the tub, and he reached out the window to pull on a rope that ran very close to the wall. A small wooden pitcher appeared on that rope, and when he kept pulling, it went over the top of the pulley wheel to spill its contents into a wide pan that extended past the window. The water rushed down to the low point in the window opening, into the trough, and then into the tub. Another pitcher was fashioned to the rope and then another. The boy worked the rope, and the chamber was filled with the sound of running water.
“How clever.”
“Aye, it is. One of the lads thought it up to save his hands from wear.”
The tub was filling rapidly, and one of the maids came through the door with an iron basket full of glowing red coals. She angled it carefully through the chamber, making sure to avoid touching anything. The basket had feet on it, and she slid it beneath the tub. A second basket was carried in to join the first one, and Ula went over to the tub to begin stirring the water about. The iron baskets almost touched the bottom of the tub. Since the tub was made of copper, the heat from the coals began to warm the water quickly. The lad finished filling the tub and tugged on the corner of his knitted bonnet before he and his partner left the chamber. The maids took their chance to scurry out behind them.
“Good for naught.” Ula sent a shake of her head toward the door. “A few lashes would have done them good. Ye are kinder than I, but even if ye are my mistress, I'll tell ye straight that I think ye should put Anyon out. That girl is trouble, and she is no done upsetting this house, mark my words.”
“It's not entirely her fault.”
Ula grunted and walked over to help Jemma begin taking her dress off. The tub looked very inviting. Her skin felt as if it had sand clinging to it, and that was entirely possible.
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