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Authors: My Angel My Hell

Mysty McPartland

BOOK: Mysty McPartland
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MY ANGEL MY HELL

BY

MYSTY MCPARTLAN
D

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

Deeply immersed in his own thoughts, riding slowly across the countryside and oblivious to his surroundings, Tarrel wasn’t in any hurry to reach his destination. In fact, he wished he could be anywhere else than where he would arriving in a short time. Although he had known for years that this day would be coming, he still could not find any joy in it.

Just thinking about it made him shudder
and grimace with distaste. He was about to be married to a woman he had never seen, even though he knew about his betrothal since he was a young lad. He’d cursed his father then, and he cursed his father now. But as it did then and as it did now, it had been pointless, more so now that his father was dead and the fact that it would change nothing.

With a toss of his head, he let out a long, slow, suffering breath of resignation. He knew that it would probably put the household in an uproar by arriving a few days early. He smiled in derision at the thought. Why should he be the only one put out by this nonsense? He planned to arrive early, and hopefully, meeting the bride, he would find her pleasant enough.
Hell, it didn
’t
make any difference if she was a hag and as mean as Satan himself, he would still take her as wife.

Lord help him, he was
about to be wed a complete stranger and he would be stuck with the same woman for the rest of his life. Perhaps there was a chance, even it was a slim one, he might be able persuade her to change her mind and call off the wedding. If he couldn’t sway her, he did not have any other recourse, he would see it through. It wouldn’t be him who called of the marriage. He would not dishonor his father’s oath or his clan.

No, he would go through with it no matter how much he detested having a wife. He shuddered again at the thought of having the one woman for the remainder of his days. Oh he liked women; in fact he enjoyed them very fervently and appreciated them greatly. However, he knew nothing about this lass, and he would have to live with her for eternity.

God help him, he just wanted to turn his horse around and ride back home as fast as he could.
His fingers tightened around the reins as he fought the temptation to do just that. When heard the deep voice beside him, he gritted his teeth and turned to his friend with a raised brow.

“Are ye looking forward to finally meeting ye betrothed, Tarrel?”Duncan could see how his friend did not look the least bit excited to meet the unknown woman.

Abhorrence and horror stayed written on his face as he glared at Duncan in disbelief. He couldn’t believe his friend would ask him such a daft question. Couldn’t the fool see he was dreading the meeting and the changes it was going to make to his life? Hell, no man wanted to wed a woman he’d never seen before and didn’t even know.

With a loud snort,
his lips twisted up in scorn. “Ye ken how I feel about the whole bleedin business. And what she looks like is of little importance. Besides, it wouldna make any difference anyway would it now?” He growled out. He turned away and frowned darkly, silently he admitted to himself that he hoped she at least looked half way decent, and would have a likeable personality.

A knowing grin, Duncan shook his head over Tarrel’s lack of concern over his future wife’s looks. If he ever found himself in the same predicament, he would be praying she at least would be pleasant to gaze upon, and he felt certain his friend did as well.

T
he gates up ahead opened, Tarrel and his men rode through them, and pulled their horses to a stop. Agilely dismounting, he spied Laird McBain standing on the steps alone. His brows came together; he expected to find his future wife waiting to greet him also. This was most definitely not a good beginning to the rest of their lives together. His mouth set in a grim line; he strode forward and could only hope matters would improve.

When
informed that his future son in-law would be soon arriving, Kevin knew that trouble would surely arrive with him. He waited outside to greet him, and hid his surprise over the size and the power that, even across this distance that separated them, emanated from the younger man.

Unhurriedly going up the steps, Tarrel bowed his head. “I ken I have arrived early, Laird McBain. However, I thought I would like to spend a few days getting acquainted with my betrothed before we are wed.”

Incapable of meeting the younger man’s gaze, becoming agitated, Kevin quickly turned his eyes away from those dark piercing ones. “Let us see to ye men and then go inside to have a drink, Laid McCain and ‘tis sure I am ye would wish to wash away the dust.” He wanted to delay telling this man he had come for naught.

A thoughtful frown drawing his brow together, he wondered why Laird McBain seemed so twitchy, something was wrong, he conceded. The man was as nervous as a scolded cat and definitely hiding something, he was positive of it. “If ye have ye trusted man see to my men, Laird, I would very much like to go in and meet my betrothed.”

 
Aware that he was running out of excuses to delay relaying the whole sorry business to the young laird, Kevin lifted his hand to Donald motioning him to see that the visitors were settled. Knowing he didn’t have any other choice he turned, opened the door to the hall, and led Laird McCain inside.

I
n the great hall, Tarrel let his eyes adjust to the dimness of the room, it took only a few heartbeats and gazing around the massive hall, suddenly his gaze landed on the red haired woman sitting before the fire. He admitted she seemed fairly pretty in an over blown way and moving closer, he grew disappointed when he read the calculating and predatory gleam in her pale blue eyes. He heaved a rough breath of repugnance and dissatisfaction sat heavily in his chest. A black cloud of disappointment hung over him knowing what he had been dreading was about to come true.

A grimace twisting his mouth, he’d at least hoped that even though his future wife may not look pleasant, that she would be at least a kind hearted soul and obedient. However, it was now a certainty that he would find his wife disagreeable and their marriage, in all likelihood, very unpleasant. Well, after they were married, the woman would soon learn he and his clan would not endure cruelty of any kind, nor would they put up with her spoilt ways. He would also lock her up in a nunnery if she proved dishonest and scheming.
Now that idea had merit,
and he smiled grimly.

They continued to gaze at each other and he reali
zed she was taking stock of him and if that cunning smile was anything to go by, he was in a heap of trouble. He clenched his teeth. No wench would ever get the better of him and the sooner this one found out the less trouble the woman would cause. He turned away unable to keep gazing at her, it seemed his worst nightmare was about to become true.

Reluctantly he
followed the older man across the hall, wondering if he had any hope now that he could persuade the woman to call of the wedding. However, now seeing her, he very much doubted that she would be agreeable. From his quick assessment of her, he could tell the wench was sly and greedy. His stomach churned at the thought of having to live the rest of his life with her. He slammed the door on such miserable contemplation and managed to give the elder laird a nod when he asked a question.

“Come
, Laird McCain, and have a drink.” Kevin sat down at the high table, and quickly spoke to one of the servants who rushed off to fetch the ale.

Unenthusiastically, he took his own seat, no sense putting it off he decided, best to have the meeting over and done with and he could assess the wench more thoroughly. “My betrothed, Laird McBain, I would like to meet her and share conversation with her.” If he couldn’t talk the woman around and after summing up her character, he very much doubted that he would leave here a single man.

If she couldn’t be persuaded to end the contract
, the sooner the woman learnt what her position in his life would be and what he expected of her the better for both of them. She would probably find her life with him very disagreeable. Perhaps once she knew she might end the betrothal after all and seeing her, he could only pray she would.

Kevin was saved
from answering by the servants returning, but when they were gone, he could tell by the steely glare in the other man’s eyes, he could no longer delay the inevitable. “’Tis a sad thing I have to tell ye, Laird McCain. ‘Tis a fact that my daughter isna here.” Worriedly wringing his hands, he reached for his mug and took a long sip of ale, but at seeing the young man’s reaction to the news, he choked on his drink.

Unable to believe what he just heard, he banged his cup down and stared at the old laird in disbelief. “What do ye mean my betrothed is nay here? I presume she will be here for our wedding though?” An intense wave of relief swiftly washed through him, knowing that the red haired wench wasn’t his future wife. Thank providence for such luck.

However, within moments red hot rage filled him, knowing the woman who he was meant to marry would have the nerve to intentionally avoid meeting him. It infuriated him, the lass didn’t have any right to do such a thing and to insult him in such a manner was outrageous.

Kevin shook his head and refuse
d to look at the other man. “Now ‘tis a shameful thing I have to tell ye. My sweet daughter heard ye were arriving and fled. I have men out that have been searching for her for the last few days but she canna be found.”

It was unbelievable that the situation just grew even worse. In disbelief, staring at the older man, he could feel his rage growing by the second. How dare this woman run and hide, it mattered little that he didn’t want the marriage. It was the fact that the foolish wench decided to take matters into her own hands without even meeting him. “So my betrothed has fled at the thought of marrying me? Ye do realize that I have every right to be nay longer obliged to honor the contract?”

His worry increasing, paling Kevin nodded his head, knowing that Laird McCain would have every right to end the betrothal, but he prayed the young man wouldn’t. Even though he didn’t want to lose his daughter, he didn’t want to be dishonored by ending the agreement made so many years ago.

Quick to react, coming to a decision, he knew he would not leave until the disrespectful and foolish wench was found, and then and only then would he make his final verdict concerning their union. “My men and I will help with the search, and when she is found then I will make up my mind.” He surged to his feet and strode determinedly out of the hall. He was enraged at not only himself for saying he would wait, but also at the woman who decided that she would rather leave the safety of her home, and put herself in danger rather than marry him.

It was inconceivable th
at the woman would be so daft to put herself in such peril, it didn’t speak well of her character at all. He was relieved though, that he now would have an excuse to end the contract and suddenly there was a lightness to his step and a smile curved his lips. Aye, now he had away out and he was going to grasp it with both hands.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Two

 

It was late when he returned to the hall, and Tarrel was in a foul mood. He asked one of the servants to show him to his bedchamber, ordered a bath and a meal sent up. Now after bathing and eating, he relaxed in front of the fire with a goblet of wine.
I’m a damn fool; I should take this opportunity to end the betrothal and return home. What was keeping me here?

His thoughts were
interrupted into when his bedroom door opened, and he stiffened when he saw the red haired wench he noticed earlier today come uninvited into his chamber.
Now what,
and then he grimaced when he saw the cunning lust in her eyes and he knew exactly what this female wanted. He bought his goblet to his lips and watched her with hooded eyes.

Lisa waited until the household settled down and sneaking along the hallway to Laird McCain’s bedchamber. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepping inside; she closed it behind her then leaned against it, and smiled seductively. “’Tis sorry I am, my Laird, that my silly cousin has run off.” Enticingly leaning away from the door, her hips swaying, she strolled forward until she stood beside his chair. “’Tis a woman ye need, Laird, nay an immature child and I can promise ye, ye will nay ever regret it. I can make ye forget all about my foolish cousin.” Her fingers ran smoothly over the muscle on his forearm, she could feel beneath his cotton shirt.

BOOK: Mysty McPartland
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