The Highlander's Runaway Bride (11 page)

‘Margaret? The scarf you gave her? The colour would look beautiful if woven through her hair,' Arabella motioned with her hands to show how it should be done.

All Eva could think was
what
scarf?

‘I hope you liked it?' Margaret asked. ‘Rob had no idea of the appropriate gift. Arabella, you sent a book?'

Eva tried to keep her smile firmly in place, but her heart sank. She'd received no gifts from her new husband. Had she expected to, truly? What man would present gifts to a woman who scorned his offer of marriage and humiliated him by running from it? Taking in a breath, she nodded.

‘You were both generous in giving those to me. The scarf is beautiful, Margaret. And, the book was more than I could have expected.'

‘We wanted you to feel welcomed. Under the circumstances...'

‘And I do.'

A thick silence filled the chamber until, once more, the commander issued her orders.

‘You must be tired from all this,' Arabella said. ‘I have sent a hot bath to your chambers, and then you should rest. I will send Ailean to help your maid with the dress and your hair.'

Knowing how difficult this feast was going to be for her, acting and playing the part of the bride to their favoured kinsman, Eva did as Arabella ordered.

The feast came much too quickly.

Chapter Twelve

H
ow could his sister be bitterly reprimanding him all the while wearing the smile of an angel?

Margaret had charged him when he'd entered the hall the same way Magnus had charged him in the yard earlier this day. The only difference was that Magnus used a sword to try to skewer him, while Margaret used only her sharp tongue.

‘You did not give her the gifts, did you, brother?' Margaret accused. ‘The scarf? Arabella's book?'

‘I... I...'

He really could not come up with an excuse, at least not one he could share. The day of and morning after their wedding, he was not feeling very kindly towards the woman who'd run and hidden from him. Even risked her own life to get away from this marriage.

‘She is not wearing it. She said you had packed it away for the journey and she knew not where it was.'

Nay, he had not only not given her the gifts, he'd buried them deep in his trunk with no intention of giving them to her. Now though, just thinking on it made it feel mean to him.

She nodded at his wife, who sat next to Arabella at table. He should be at her side, but Margaret had pulled him away before he could. Margaret turned away, so Eva could not see her face now.

‘And you used horse liniment on her leg? Dear God, Rob, did I not raise you right?'

His older sister had raised him when their parents died and when she was little more than a girl herself. The interesting part of this was that Margaret was disgruntled in Eva's stead.

‘She said it helped. And it did, Margaret.' Rob glanced up at Eva now. ‘She also promised not to tell you. But what can I expect from a woman who did not wish to marry me?' She winced at his words and shook her head.

‘And did you want to marry her?' Margaret asked.

Rob shrugged at his sister. ‘She knows that, Margaret. Believe me, there are no false hopes existing between the lady and me.'

‘Daft man!' she whispered furiously at him. ‘She lied to protect you to us. Lied to me and Arabella.'

She walked off then before he could say another word, muttering some choice words under her breath. Inventive suggestions about what he should do to and with various parts of his body. Now, he winced.

He stood where he was, watching Eva talking to Arabella. She wore something that resembled the false smile that Bella had worn on her first visits to this hall. Polite but one that did not reach her eyes or make her cheeks move. The obvious look of a woman doing what was expected of her in the situation in which she found herself.

No wonder Brodie hated that expression so much.

The man himself approached and handed him a cup of wine before taking a position next to him against the wall.

‘You did not come to speak to me this morn.'

‘I turned everything, the documents and the gold, over to Fergus. It's in your strongboxes when you wish to examine it all.' Rob drank deeply from the cup, avoiding Brodie's gaze.

His friend knew how to use silence as a weapon to force others to speak and sometimes to speak too much. That was the true reason he'd avoided speaking in private to him.

‘You did not come to speak to me,' Brodie repeated, in that damnable calm tone of his.

Finally, Rob accepted the inevitable. He would have to say something to explain his behaviour and his inexcusable failure to obey Brodie's call.

‘I would rather avoid my laird than lie to my friend.'

They stood there after his declaration as the servants began moving the tables aside and making a place where they could dance. But more words pushed forward, as he felt the need to give his friend more.

‘I suspect she loves another.'

There. Though he had no claim over her affections, and though some of her actions were worse than others towards him, that was the worst. For a reason he could not explain to himself or his friend. Brodie nodded and stepped away, looking at the table where their wives sat.

‘And yet, she lied for you to my wife and your sister to keep you in their good graces.'

Rob opened his mouth to argue the point, but he could not. Brodie walked quickly along the path next to the tables to the front, greeting his wife with a fierce kiss. From the sidelong glances at him, he knew he should return to Eva and make an attempt to present himself as a happily married man. Or, at the least, a man at peace with this marriage.

Eva watched as he walked in that languid, easy gait, stretching his long legs to cover the distance from where he stood to the table where she sat in fewer strides than most men here would need. She had always been close to him and only today and now had she had the chance to observe him from further away.

The sight of him fighting Brodie and Magnus in the yard had taken her breath away. Not so much because she thought him in danger, but because he fought in only his trews. His long hair was tied back to keep it from his face and hung down past his shoulders. His chest and arms and back were like finely sculpted statues, glistening in the sun, as he moved with his sword. Oh, the other two men had taken off their tunics as well, but seeing him and knowing how the contours of his muscles looked up close, made her lose her breath.

Even now, her body reacted to the memory of seeing him naked in their chamber.

Shaking her head, she had only to bring her father's words to mind to break Rob's hold over her thoughts—only sluts and whores sought a man's touch for pleasure. A lady accepted the duty expected of her and accepted her husband's touch when he so wished.

Mayhap that was the lesson here? By disregarding her father's instructions and lusting after Eirik, she had lost everything. Home. Family. Love. All lost because she followed her own heart and desires. And now, here she sat among strangers, married to a man who did not want to be married to her. Who held her in such low regard that he did not even wish to sit with her at table, escaping as soon as was seemly to do so.

‘Are you well, Eva?' Arabella whispered, touching her hand to Eva's cheek. ‘You are pale.'

‘I am well, my lady.' At Arabella's glare, she smiled. ‘I am well, Arabella.'

‘You look beautiful. That dress does look good on you,' Arabella said. ‘Brodie? I think she looks better in that gown than I ever did. What think you?'

‘Bella,' he growled. Eva almost fell sorry for the man put in such an uncomfortable position by his wife. But he was a man in love, and he rose to the challenge. ‘I think that you both grace the gown with loveliness in a different way.'

Eva laughed then at the words of a well-trained husband. When Brodie leaned over to kiss his wife, again and again, she had to look away.

They did not hide their passion away. They seemed to allow it to show whenever they were together. He was kissing her or touching her or holding her hand whenever she was at his side. And when she was not, he sought her out and made it so.

Rob reached the table and took his seat on the other side, away from Arabella, who was still kissing Brodie and noticing little if anything else.

‘Have you need of anything, lady?'

‘Nay, I am well,' she replied in a pleasant tone. ‘The feast was more than I could have expected, especially at such short notice.'

He glanced over at her, examining her hair and gown.

‘You have probably seen this on Arabella. She graciously had it fitted for me just today.' She smoothed it down over the legs. ‘Ailean is so talented with the needle and thread and promised to help me repair my gowns.'

Her hair, he noticed, was decorated with silk ribbons that both held her curls in place and made the blonde undertones of her hair shine. The gown borrowed from Arabella was of a colour that the scarf from Margaret would match perfectly.

The scarf that lay hidden away in his trunk.

His stomach soured as he realised how petty his actions were. Especially in the light of her efforts to defend him to his sister. He stared at her until she met his gaze. He noticed the tears gathering in her eyes.

‘I see how lovely you look in this gown, lady.' She blinked several times, glancing away until the tears disappeared.

‘And you look very handsome, Rob.' She nodded at his tunic and plaid, gathered over his shoulder. ‘You did not wear this at Varrich.'

‘'Tis our ceremonial garb, lady. For special occasions and such.'

Eva did not reply, but only glanced around the hall at the other men garbed the same way.

‘Lady?' he said softly so only she could hear. When she did not look at him, he took her hand in his and stroked her palm until she did. He moved his gaze to her hair and then back to her eyes.

‘I am sorry.'

He watched as she turned away and swallowed several times. Then only with a slight nod did she acknowledge his apology for the slight he'd dealt her.

Before he could say or do anything else, a clamour arose from those below. Banging cups and stamping feet made such a noise but when they began calling out, Rob knew what they wanted. He sensed she was fragile in that moment and a repeat of what they'd done at Varrich was not what she wanted.

He raised their joined hands so all could see and then leaned over and kissed her mouth gently. She did not resist but she did not participate. The crowd was not pleased, and several people called out to them.

‘I thought ye kenned how to kiss a woman, Robbie!' called one man. ‘I can show her how 'tis done if ye canna!'

‘Haud yer wheest!' he answered back. A hint of a smile played on her mouth now.

‘Kiss the girl, Robbie! Show her how the Mackintoshes do it!'

‘Loch Moigh! Loch Moigh!'
Brodie shouted in reply.

As they always did when their chieftain yelled the clan's battle cry, everyone stood and answered.

‘Loch Moigh! Loch Moigh!'
Then they changed the words but continued chanting, loudly, as they clapped and stamped their feet on the floor. ‘A kiss! A kiss! A kiss!'

Rob pulled Eva up to him, lifted her off her feet and kissed her. He kissed her as the crowd wanted him to.

He kissed her the way he wanted to.

Deeply. Fully.

Relentlessly.

He tilted his head and captured her mouth, pressing his tongue against her lips until she opened and then taking her. Her breasts rubbed against his chest and their hips met. His flesh hardened and throbbed against her.

She held back for what seemed an eternity and then kissed him back. He could feel her hands on his shoulders, clutching at his plaid as he thrust deep, tasting all that she was. Suddenly aware of the silence around them, he lifted his mouth from hers and glanced around.

He should stop. He should stop this farce, for it was only a kiss for show.

And he would have if she had not looked at him through passion-glazed eyes and slid the tip of her tongue across her kiss-bruised lips.

Eva read his intention in his eyes but could not stop him. He held her up higher and slid his hand up along the back of her neck into her hair. His fingers entangled there held her mouth to his as he claimed her once more.

She told herself this was just a pretend kiss, one meant to satisfy those clamouring for such a show from the newly married couple. Even as her breasts swelled and she grew wet in that place between her legs, she told herself this meant nothing. But when his other hand slid beneath her bottom and pressed her against the ridge of flesh, she wondered if there wasn't more this time.

Using her grasp on his shoulders to push herself free of his mouth, she found an intensity in his dark eyes that frightened her. She did not fear harm from him; nay, she feared her own response to him. She shivered then, before succumbing to yet another kiss.

The shouting reached a crescendo and then burst as everyone shouted wishes for their happiness. Rob finally released her, and she slid back to her feet, trying to steady her shaking hands as she reached up to check her hair. When she dared to glance at him, he held out the blue silk ribbon that Ailean had woven through her hair.

If that kiss in front of everyone had not embarrassed her, this did. Her hair tumbled down over her shoulders without the ribbon to hold it in place. She turned to leave when he grabbed her shoulders to make her stay.

‘Dear God in Heaven!' Rob swore.

Lifting her chin to bring her gaze to his, he took in the swollen lips and her heaving breaths. Then he followed the length of her curls that ended around her hips. Though he'd thought her hair was light brown, now, these riotous locks caught every flicker of light in the hall and showed shades of blonde and gold and brown and more.

She was a beauty.

Seeing her at her best for the first time, he cursed himself for never realising it before. Even her form had changed over the weeks since they'd met in that damnable cave. From ill to recovering to something closer to health, she was stunning this evening. Arabella knew, for she'd chosen exactly the right gown to show it off.

His body urged him to finish this. To steal her away now and take her the rest of the way. To make her his and his alone, by claiming her body and making it answer to his touch only.

And his mouth.

And his prick.

He could do it if he wanted. Plant himself deep in her flesh and spill his seed. Mark her so that no one who'd come before would matter any longer.

No matter which man had been there first.

A flicker of fear rippled through her eyes then, stopping him. What did she fear? Not the act, surely? The way her body reacted was not the way an innocent's would. But did she fear him knowing it for a fact rather than just suspecting it?

‘I pray you,' she whispered then. ‘Nay.'

The passion fled at the word. He released her and stepped back, reaching for his cup and hers. When she accepted it, he drank his dry and held it out to one of the servants for more.

‘Let us move on to the real entertainment now that we have given you ours!' he called out. Brodie nodded to the musicians, who had gathered below, and they began to play. Soon voices joined in, singing the songs of the family and of bravery and more.