The Highlander's Reward (23 page)

Arbella
, who’d listened silently, placed her mug a little loudly on the floor. “Enough somber talk, today marks a great occasion. I am reunited with my father and you have not killed each other. Shall we have dessert? Cook has made the most delicious plum tarts.”

Magnus
’ hunger renewed at the thought of Cook’s sugary confections.

As Arbella stood to leave,
Gavin burst into the great hall, out of breath. “My laird, we have had a sighting of Ross and his men. They are headed this way.”

Ballocks
! An encounter with Ross was the last thing he needed, especially in front of the baron. Their relationship was still tenuous at best.

Blowing out a breath and raking his hand through his hair, he turned serious eyes on De Mowbray.
“’Twould be best for you to have your men come within our walls.”

De Mowbray nodded and pushed away from the table.
“Did you steal someone else’s bride, Sutherland?”

Magnus laughed bitterly at the irony of the baron’s question. “’Tis more like the scorned
intended come to seek her revenge.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Arbella’s stomach was a ball of knots. The food she’d consumed did not sit well. But she had to be strong. Even if another encounter with Ina Ross made her sick. She had to look at the situation
positively, perhaps the wretched woman would not come inside.

“Ronan, if Ross is willing to speak
civilly, open the gates for him, his daughter and one other. If he’s not, send Gavin for me. I need to speak with Arbella.”

No such luck, Magnus all but invited the woman inside.

“Aye, brother.” Ronan made haste for the great doors.

Arbella wished she could run after him, to escape.
’Twas one thing to be humiliated in front of the clan by the woman, but a whole other for her father to witness it.

“Baron, if ye wouldna mind, I would have a word with my wife in private
.” Magnus turned to face her.

The baron waved them away and refilled his mug.
She didn’t know whether to be pleased or irritated that her father would dismiss them so easily. He appeared to have gotten over his dislike of Scots swiftly. But glancing back at Magnus it was no wonder. Her husband was most definitely an honorable man.

“Arbella?”
Magnus held out his arm to her.

Arbella slid her hand around his thick arm and walked by his side toward the stairs leading to the upper chambers.

Once inside their chamber she made haste to sit in one of the overlarge chairs. Her stomach was definitely not doing well.

She sat down, took some deep breaths in an effort to steady herself and quell her nausea.

Then she glowered down at the floor. Why was she letting that woman get to her? She was Magnus’ wife. She was the lady of Dunrobin, Lady Sutherland, not that cursing, vile female.

With that thought in her head, she straightened her shoulders a little and sat a bit taller. She had to be strong not just because her father was here, but for herself. She would not let anyone speak to her that way again.

Magnus took the seat beside her, grabbed her hand and pulled her until she was sitting on his lap. He kissed her lingeringly on the mouth. When he pulled away, his gaze was serious.

“
I really like the sash ye made. It means a lot to see ye wear it with my colors. That ye’ve joined us as one.”

“I am glad. I pricked all of my fingers to make it.”

Magnus chuckled and then kissed each of her fingers. “We have overcome one obstacle today, only to be presented with another.”

She
smiled, a teasing tilt to her lips. “Mayhap ’tis a test to see if we were truly meant for one another.”

“Nay, there was no doubt when I saw ye knock a man down with his own axe.”

All humor left her. She didn’t like to think about that day, the things she’d done in order to survive. Magnus noticed the transition of her moods and frowned.

“What is it?”

She looked away, but he gently pulled her back with his finger on her chin.

“Samuel taught me to protect myself. Even you have tried to do the same thing. And I’m glad for it, because I’ve needed to do so on more than one occasion, but
that does not make my actions any less heinous.”

Magnus stroked her cheek. “I
know, sweeting. Harming another is never an easy thing to do, nor to forget. But sometimes ’tis a necessity. Ye had to do those things to survive.”

“I know. But I can still see the blood, the pain in their eyes.”

Magnus tucked her close against him. “When ye see those things, picture this instead.” He captured her lips in a tantalizing kiss, his tongue sweeping inside to take ownership.

Her somber thoughts were forgotten, and instead she shifted restlessly on his lap, feeling the evidence of
his desire against her bottom.

When they pulled away, both of them were panting. She wished they would not have to go downstairs now to deal with Ross
and Ina.

Magnus rested his forehead against hers and whispered, “I would give up all the plum tarts in Scotland to raise your skirts and feel ye clench around my—”

A loud knock at the door cut off his words, but even still, she blushed hotly, imagining exactly what he was thinking.

With a growl mixed with a sigh, Magnus set her down and stood to answer the door.

Gavin stood beyond. “The Ross would speak with ye.”

Magnus nodded.
“Did ye move the Englishman?”

“Aye, he’s been put in the buttery, still sleeping like a babe. The baron asked for a room to rest.”

“Good. And Heather?”

“She is in her chamber with orders to remain there. The baron, Lady Ina and one retainer await
ye in the great hall.”

“I want to come,” Arbella said.

“Ye are Lady Sutherland. ’Tis your right.”

She tilted her head in question.
“My right?”

“We are partners here, Arbella. What’s mine is yours, and that includes sharing in the leadership of this clan.”

She was honored at the same time she was overwhelmed. Ruling beside Magnus was not something she ever expected to do.

“All right,” she answered, and was greeted with one of Magnus’ sensual smiles and a slow wink.

“All right.”

They walked arm in arm down the stairs and into the great hall where a large, rough looking man stood wearing the same colors as the Ross men.
His greyish-red hair was long and unruly. His beard was braided into three separate plaits. He looked exactly the way Glenda declared a heathen Scot would. He must be their laird. Beside him was Ina, an arrogant smirk on her face, as if she were pleased with herself for having caused havoc among them. She was dressed much like she had been when she’d come to the keep previously.

“Ross, I would like to introduce
ye to my wife, Lady Sutherland.”

Ross’ bushy brows drew together and his hard mouth turned down as he perused her form. But slowly the frown dissipated and his face was blank.

“What is the meaning of this? Ye gave your word to marry my daughter.”

Ina opened her mouth to say something, and oddly enough without seeing, Ross held up his hand to her for silence. The man knew his daughter well. Ina pouted, and turned a venomous glare on Arbella, who pretended not to notice.

“Ross, ye know I had denied ye the request for years.”

“Aye, but in the end, ye gave me your word.”

“I gave ye my word that we’d see to your clan’s safety, that Ina could always count on the Sutherlands as allies.”

“And ye promised to make it so with marriage—your marriage.”

“I have done ye a discourtesy, of that I apologize, but ’twas not possible for me to go through with the marriage to your daughter. Betrothals are forged and broken every day. Have ye not had many broken betrothals for your daughter already? And did your daughter not order her men to attack my clan without your permission? My wife was assaulted, luckily she is skilled enough to have bested two of your men, else we would be having this conversation over swords. Ye had best rein her in.”

The Ross took a step forward and his retainer reached for his sword, but stayed his hand when a dozen Sutherlands did the same.

“How dare ye speak ill of my daughter?” The laird looked more embarrassed and flustered than truly angry.

“Apologies
, I meant no offense. Only I wanted to know how our broken betrothal was different than any other?”

Arbella watched the exchange with a somber expression on her face, however, inside her nerves were at war with each other. She prayed things did not come to blows.
Laird Ross was fired up, spoiling for a fight, while Magnus remained tolerant, indifferent even.

“The difference is your lands border ours and I thought with the marriage our lands would be tied together—the clans one.”

Magnus shook his head. “I gave no such agreement.”

Ross looked lost now.

“I told ye that we would be your allies, that we would protect ye, that when Ina took possession of your lairdship, she could count on us. I have not backed down from my word, save marriage will no longer be on the table.”

“How will ye forge the bond then?” Ross asked, his face showing he felt defeated.

“By giving ye my word.”

“Your word is shit!” Ina shouted.

The warriors—both Ross and Sutherlands—hid their laughs behind coughs. Arbella bit the inside of her cheek to keep from gasping. Magnus looked pointedly at Ross who floundered for words.

“I will accept your word,” the man said. “We shall return to our lands. I dinna think
’tis good for us to stay just now.”

Magnus nodded. “Perhaps ye are right.”

“Bloody Scots!” came a shout from the doorway to the buttery.

“Oh no,” Arbella whispered, turning to see Marmaduke Stewart stumble a few feet before swaying against a wall.

“Who is that?” Ross bellowed.

“’Tis the Steward of Stirling,” Magnus answered. “He is leaving now.”

“Stirling was taken by Wallace,” Ross replied.

“
Aye, and this man held it before Wallace,” Magnus glanced at Arbella, a flash of humor sparking in his eyes.

“What is he doing here?” The Ross sounded confused as he observed the swaggering Englishman.

“He was seeking a wife,” Magnus answered.

Arbella detected a distinct note of irony in his voice.

Upon hearing Magnus’ words, Ina hurried toward Marmaduke and took his arm in hers.

“Come, sir, allow me to help ye sit at the table.” She snapped her fingers at a clanswoman who loitered in a corner in case anyone should have need of her. “Bring some ale for the man.”

The clanswoman looked to Arbella—which thoroughly pleased her—and Arbella nodded.

Ina continued to coo into Marmaduke’s ear and the man looked up at her with admiration.

“Looks as though your daughter may marry after all,” Magnus said to Ross.

Ross only glowered. “He’s bloody English.”

Magnus laughed. “His bloodline is Scots.”

Ross crossed his arms over his chest and studied the pair.

“He is still on England’s side.”

“Mayhap for now, but I suspect
with the influence of Lady Ina, he will soon return to his Scottish roots.”

Arbella agreed. Ina was one fascinating woman. She was a curse
-flinging wench one moment, and the next, a coddling, seductress. She leaned against Marmaduke in a way Arbella had only just begun to do with Magnus and a minimal blush. Ina’s breasts were pressed to the man’s shoulder, and he stared adoringly at the wares she offered. She laughed coyly, and offered up compliment after compliment.

Magnus winged a brow as he watched and Arbella had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing. She sidled up to her husband and threaded her fingers in his.

“It appears, Sir Stewart has met his match,” she said, hoping the humor she felt at the situation didn’t come out too strong. Hadn’t she just thought that they would be perfect for one another and then rejected it? She didn’t want to offend Laird Ross who stood with a mixture of relief and nausea on his face.

“Aye.”

“I do believe they deserve each other.”

“Agreed.
’Twould seem our union has brought together two hearts that would never have crossed paths were it not for me finding ye at Stirling.”

Arbella smiled
soberly. “Agreed.”

With a grunt of disgust, Ross faced Magnus and held out his arm. “Would ye still agree to an alliance if my daughter were to marry an Englishman
?”

“’Twould be false of me not to.” Magnus took the man’s arm in his grasp and shook. “I gave
ye my word. But I will also tell ye now, Sir Stewart and Ina must also offer up their allegiance to me. To stray from our agreement would mean my withdrawal from this pledge of protection.”

“Understood.
I thank ye, Sutherland. And I wish ye well, Lady Sutherland.”