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Authors: Mysty McPartland

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BOOK: The Laird's Kidnapped Bride
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Now she was just months away from her wedding to the horrid man, and bile churned in her stomach at the thought of letting that creature bed her. Oh, he tried to hide the lust in his eyes from her, but he never quite succeeded and it always made her flesh crawl. Mmm, perhaps she shouldn’t be in such a hurry to return home after all. If she could filch some coin before she left, she could rent a room at some inn for a few weeks. She was certain that Sir Walter wouldn’t be so eager to wed her by then if he thought someone else had enjoyed the prize he was so eager to claim. It would be a perfect solution, and she would have to give it more thought before she finally decided what she would do.

After all, it was her life and her future that was at stake here. Holy heaven, it wasn’t fair! She now had
two
miscreants determined to wed her and she wanted neither of them. All she wanted was to find a good-looking man with a soul. Someone who would woo her with courtly love and a gentle heart. Was that too much to ask? Her shoulders sagged and she prayed to the blessed Lord to help her escape this nightmare as well as the horrendous situation waiting for her at home. Suddenly her spine stiffened and she was filled with determination that neither man would force her into marriage. No matter what it took, she would fight to her dying breath.

Chapter Two

 

Clearly peeved over the wee lass’s insults, Cameron stomped away from her chamber. He lifted an arm and sniffed under it. He did smell a little ripe, he admitted to himself, but not too badly. Dropping his limb back to his side, he glanced down at his once-white shirt. Now it was grey and was stained not only under the armpits but down the front as well. He gave a careless shrug of his wide shoulders, t’was to be expected, after all, he hadn’t changed it for several weeks. When he reached the great hall, he studied the room with a puckered brow. Gwen had taken over running his home not long after she arrived, and he’d never noticed how much things had deteriorated under her supervision.

The rushes were dirty and had food rotting amid them, a layer of dust covered everything and cobwebs abounded in the rafters and corners. The three massive fireplaces were black with soot and so were the walls. His mouth lifted sourly when he noticed that beneath the burning fires there was a fair amount of ash. Aye, Gwen had let things slip, but t’was nae too bad. It was definitely not the putrid, pestilent hole the wee lass had called it. So what if there was a bit of grime? A little dirt didna hurt anyone. Nay, the wee lass was just being finicky and disagreeable, probably hoping to rile his temper enough to return her to her home. He chuckled. Silly wee lass, t’was never going to happen. She’d been given to him years ago and he had every intention of keeping her now that he’d seen her.

The last time he was in Stirling, when he heard whispers about her betrothal, he’d been livid. Her conniving, lying father had no right to give his bride to another man. The moment he returned home, he started making plans to snatch her and bring her here, where she belonged. No one would have a clue where she was or who had taken her. It would be a very long time before they did, and he wanted the wee lass bound to him so tightly that nothing and no one would tempt her away. He had never been so aroused by a woman before. The moment he had seen how bonny she was and how delightfully amusing he found her, his lust for her was undeniable. He chuckled again. She might have the face of an angel, but she possessed a viper’s tongue and words that could cut a man to shreds. He loved it when those glorious eyes spat fire at him.

Och, t’was a fact he liked everything about her. However, she was going to have to accept that things were different here and she would have to adjust herself to the new lifestyle that would be hers. He stroked his beard, just hoping she wouldn’t take too long. With a shrug, he dropped his hand to his side, strolled across the room and out the door. He hoped the priest would arrive early and they could be wed, because he wanted the wee lass naked in his bed. He wanted to caress and taste every glorious inch of her and it was unbelievable how much he yearned to slide his cock into her tight silken heat. Swiftly banishing the erotic image from his head when he started growing aroused, he muttered a curse and strode to the stables. He ordered his horse saddled and waited while the animal was made ready.

A good ride would banish the amorous pictures, so when his stallion arrived he swung up into the saddle and rode out the gates. Leaning forward, he let the animal have its head. Though he’d thought to wait until they were married to swive the wee lass, mayhap he needn’t hold off. He would give her a few days to settle in, then he would sweep her off her feet and take her to his bed. He had a feeling it was going to take him a long time to sate his lust for her. Not that he could see a problem with it, since they would be spending the rest of their lives together. Oh, aye, they were going to have many years of swiving and she was going to give him many fine sons and daughters. The only other time he thought about babes was when he was making certain he wasn’t giving his lover one. Continually having to be especially vigilant when rutting with a woman took most of the pleasure out of the act.

He always made sure he spent his seed outside the vessel of their bodies, knowing he didn’t want any bastards running around, and because he was already betrothed, so couldn’t offer another woman his name. Aye, he was always so diligently careful to keep it from ever happening that it not being as satisfying as it should be. Now, though, he didn’t have to worry, and just the thought of ejaculating inside a wench made his heart thump and his bollocks tighten. There would be many firsts when he took his little bride to bed. She would be his first virgin and the first to receive his semen. Aye, it was exciting and stimulating, knowing these things, and it was going to tear at his patience to wait to rut with her. He grinned, thinking of all the ways he could occupy that cutting, insulting tongue. Oh aye, he was positive they were going to have many glorious hours of rutting.

Never had his mind filled with so many pleasurable thoughts, and he couldn’t wait to see his bonny betrothed again. So, after riding for over an hour, he returned home in time for supper. Entering the hall, he strolled over to the laird’s table and sat down. When a maid came running, he grunted when she arrived. “Go up and fetch me wee bride. Tell her I expect her to join me for the evening meal.” While he waited, he watched the great room fill up and every one took their seats. He hoped the little lass wouldn’t be argumentative and disobey his command. He didn’t like the idea of forcing her to follow his orders, but he would if he had to. From the start, she must learn to comply with his every wish. After all, ‘tis what a wife was expected to do, and his would be no different.

***

Through with her bath, Lark spent the remainder of the afternoon trying to find some way out of the frightening situation she was in and so far had come up with nothing. It took her by surprise when she heard the key in the lock twist and the door open, but she merely raised a curious eyebrow at the nervous maid who appeared in the open door. “’Tis something ye want, lass?”

“Aye, Mistress, the laird has asked ye to join him for supper.”

“Oh, really.” She almost smiled at the maid’s nervous confusion. She had good mind to refuse the odious oaf, but she quickly discarded the idea. This might be a chance to find out where she was being held.

“Ye canna refuse, Mistress, ‘tis a command.”

“Och, then we canna disobey the almighty stinking laird. Heaven forbid if we do.” Smothering a chuckle, she slowly strolled past the shocked maid, and with her head held high, she sauntered down the staircase and thought of ways she could make the putrid laird reveal where they were. Her gaze swept the huge hall until her eyes landed on the filthy swine seated alone at the head table. In no hurry to join him, she took her time. When she finally reached him, she angled her chin in the air and raised a dark brow. “’Tis bad manners nae to rise when a lady enters the room. Yer conduct is appalling, but I shouldna have expected anything less.”

Not in the least ashamed, Cameron leaned back in his chair and grinned at her. “Aye, ‘tis most rude of me. Now sit yerself down, lass, and we’ll sup together.” He saw her eyes narrow and her mouth pinch, and he wondered what insults she was about to cut him with now.

“Have ye nae forgot yer fat whore will be joining us?” She mocked scathingly.

Cameron coughed so he wouldn’t laugh. “Now, lass, Gwen isna my whore, and though she might have a fulsome figure, she’s nae fat.”

“Och, and I have nae doubt about all the times ye rutted with her, ye would ken all about her tubby figure. She’s fat as a keg of ale. The maggots must have feasted on yer brain if ye think I would believe she isna yer flabby slut.” It infuriated her that he could lie so easily when the truth was as plain as the nose on his hairy face. But what should she expect? He was, after all, a kidnapper and clearly wasn’t in the least remorseful over his behavior.

“I havena swived Gwen for several weeks now, lass.” Heaven help him, he was finding it difficult not to laugh. The wee lass was certainly outraged over Gwen, and he liked the idea that she was. He shrugged his shoulders, but he didn’t break eye contact with her and watched her frown over his admission. “And as soon as she has somewhere to go, she will be leaving.” He added and waited for her response.

Did the moron think she was a fool enough to believe such nonsense? She snorted in disbelief. “Ye’re most assuredly a peabrained idiot if ye believe that. Trust me, yer overweight slattern won’t be in any hurry to leave.”

To keep himself from guffawing, he caught her hand and tugged her down on the chair beside him. “Now, my wee lass, I promise ye, she
will
be going.” When her eyes glittered with rage and shot flaming arrows at him, he remembered her warning and bit the inside of his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh.

“I warned once already, ye stinking miscreant, about calling me wee,” she hissed furiously out between clenched teeth. So help her, if he called her that once more, she would brain him over the head with the nearest large object.

“Och, forgive me, lass, but since me brain has been eaten awa’ by maggots, I have become quite forgetful.” Thankfully, before she could come back at him with some new insult, the trencher of food was placed in front of them. He turned away from her, but when he heard her start gagging, he swung back and stared at her with a perplexed frown on his brow. “Is something wrong, lass?”

It was a tremendous effort just trying to keep the contents of her stomach in. She leaned away from him at stared down at the horrifying meal. It wasn’t just his stench that was making her sick. She shot to her feet, but before she could race away, her wrist was grasped. “Let me go,” she sputtered out in desperation. As the bile started to rise up, she placed a hand over her mouth.

“Nay, sit back down and eat yer food.” Irritated, he wasn’t about to let her flee. There was no excuse for her not to share supper with him.

In a frenzy, through her hand she muttered, trying not to gag. “I canna, ye dolt head. ‘Tis nae only yer putrid odor and yer smelling like a month-old pisspot that’s curling my insides, but also the sight of the ghastly food making me sick to my stomach.”

“There is nothing wrong with haggis, and I dinna stink so badly. I doubt, lass, that ye even ken how a month-old pisspot would smell.” Trying not to lose his temper, he tugged her back to her seat. “Ye’re a Highlander, lass, nae some weak-kneed Sassenach. A little sweat and such fine fare canna upset yer constitution.”

Oh, the stinking heathen! Well, he couldn’t say she didn’t warn him. She removed her hand from her mouth, drew in another foul breath of air and leaning forward, threw up all over the despicable, reeking fiend.
That should show the odious, lame-brained idiot.
When she raised her head, she was truly satisfied by the astonishment on his face as he stared down at the vomit coating his shirt and kilt. Laughter bubbled up inside her and it was taking every effort not to let it out.

Stupefied, he stared down at the muck covering him. He couldn’t believe the lass had spewed all over him. He swung his head to glare at her in disbelief and wasn’t in the least surprised to see that she had enjoyed doing it. He shook his head in utter amazement. “Ye’re a wee sly puss.” He let go of her wrist. “Go, go upstairs.”

Not needing to be told a second time, she once again jumped to her feet and dashed across the hall, ignoring all the astonished faces and worried stares following her. Once she entered her chambers, she wrapped her arms around herself, bent over and laughed herself silly. Every time she pictured the expression on his face, it sent her into fits of more laughter.

When the wee lass raced away and disappeared, he once more glanced down at the muck coating him. Never in his life had he ever made a woman ill before, and losing the contents of her stomach all over him was unbelievable. He shook his head in disbelief and raising it, caught sight of all the incredulous faces filling the hall. He was about to wave for a maid when Gwen entered the great room, and the seductive sway of her hips didn’t even give a tingle to his bollocks. She gasped when she reached him and noticed the vomit covering him. His lips twitched with amusement.

“My heavens, what has happened, Cameron? Who would be foolish enough to puke all over ye?”

“Dinna make a fuss, Gwen. ‘Tis nothing.” He lifted a hand and with a flick of his wrist, sent for a maid. When she arrived, he noticed the wariness in her eyes and let out an irritated sigh. “Have a bath prepared in my room and make it fast.” He could understand her nervousness, because it wasn’t often he lost his temper. When he did, though, they knew to keep out of his way. Not that he ever punished anyone for nothing. He just bellowed and blustered a lot.

“Would ye like me to help ye bathe, Cameron?”

He shot her an annoyed glare and ignored the sultry invitation in her eyes. Was the foolish woman ever going to give up? How many times did he have to reject her before she understood that he was no longer interested? It was a damned fact that he was getting mighty sick of her constant attempts to seduce him back into her bed. “Nay, ye ken there will be nae more intimacy between us. Now while I’m waiting to get clean, ye can inform me where ye plan to go and I will make the arrangements.”

“’Tis only a few hours ago, Cameron, that ye told me I had to depart. I havena had time yet to think of anywhere I can go.” Nor would she. Did he think she would just walk away from all they had shared and the powerful position she now held in his home? Well, if he did, he was a fool, then.

Perhaps his wee bride was right after all and Gwen didn’t intend to leave. He studied her from beneath his thick lashes and grumbled when he noticed the calculating glint in her eyes and the angry tight line of her lips. So, it was true she was furious their affair had ended and she was now plotting to find a way to remain under his roof. Nae bloody likely! She would only cause mischief and mayhem if she remained. “Well, then, I suggest ye get busy. Ye have till the end of the week, and if ye havena found somewhere by then, I’ll have some of my men take ye to Stirling, or mayhap ye would prefer Inverness. The choice is yer’s, but make it quick, wench.”

BOOK: The Laird's Kidnapped Bride
4.54Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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