The Laird's Kidnapped Bride (8 page)

Panic started to seize hold of her when she realized that by the end of the evening, he would be demanding his rights as her husband and there would be nothing she could do to stop him. She shuddered as she imagined all the horror and pain she would have to suffer through. Her mother had explained that it was a dirty, messy business. That it would hurt terribly and that she should lie still and recite her favorite prayer until the disgusting act was over. She was also told that her husband wouldn’t force himself on her too often, because he would have a doxy to take care of his perverted needs, and once she was with child he wouldn’t bother her again. Her stomach churned and she wondered how she was going to bear it all.

She wrapped her arms around herself and bowed her head. The kiss they had shared wasn’t the least bit disgusting; in fact she enjoyed it very much. Mayhap if she was a little sotted, she could get through the bedding without losing her mind. Aye, it sounded like the perfect idea to her. If she was lucky, she might fall pregnant straight away and he would leave her alone. A furious scowl pulled her brows together at the thought of another woman servicing him. Nay, never would she put up with an unfaithful husband. He would have to be satisfied with just her. If he wasn’t, she would skin him alive. Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip and she wondered how many times she would have suffer the act. Once a week, twice? Heaven help her, every night? She already knew he was a lusty beast.

Merciful Lord! How was she ever going to bear it – or survive? She trembled just thinking about it. The color drained from her face when she remembered that there would be witnesses the first time to make certain she was still a maiden on her wedding night. She wouldn’t be able to stand the humiliation of performing such a vile act in front of strangers. Nay, she could not do it. She would refuse to co-operate. If he intended to have spectators to the deplorable bedding, he could think again. Never would she debase herself in such a manner. He had rats taking up residence in his brain if he thought for one moment she’d agree to such a thing. She jumped when someone rapped loudly on the door. “Enter,” she called out and watched a dozen servants rush into the chamber.

The ordeal was about to begin, and it was far too late now to change her mind. All she could do was pray that she would live through the night and wake up in the morning with her mind still intact, not raving like a lunatic. In a stupor, she let the maids wash her, do her hair and dress her in her wedding finery. When it was all over, she dismissed them and stood staring down into the fire. Wringing her hands together, she tried to summon up her courage to face the nightmare ahead of her. She could not let anyone see how truly scared she was. Her pride wouldn’t let her.
I can do this, I can.
Squaring her shoulders, she dropped her hands and thrust her chin in the air. She was no simpering miss to cower away up here.

With her gumption back, she twisted around, marched over the door and swung it open before she could lose her nerve. She left the chamber and, with as much dignity she could muster, glided down the staircase. When she stepped into the hall, she blinked twice to find it crowded with every member of the clan. Young and old were here to witness their laird marrying. She swallowed past the nervous lump blocking her throat and on trembling legs, walked slowly forward. She frowned when she couldn’t find the odious beast she was about to commit herself to for a lifetime. Her brow crinkled as her gaze swept over the tall, broad-shouldered man standing in front of the table. Her heart fluttered in her chest over his handsomeness.
Oh, my, he takes my breath away.
She wanted to weep over the fact that she would not be taking this mouthwatering man as her husband.

When she finally reached him, she tilted her head back and smiled. “Good eve, sir.”

“Yer a sight to behold, sweeting.” Cameron’s knees nearly buckled at the beautiful sight she made.

A confused frown tugged at her brow, the deep voice was so familiar to her but she shook her head in denial. Nay, it couldn’t be possible, it was a foolish thought. “Pray tell, sir, have ye by chance seen my betrothed?” The booming laughter filled the hall and she stiffened in annoyance, “ye’re a very rude man, sir. Now I demand ye tell me what ye’ve done with the blasted oaf I am to wed?”

He reached for her hand and squeezed it lightly. “Tis I, sweeting. Cameron, laird of the McClouds and yer future husband.”

Her skeptical eyes went wide and her mouth dropped open as she leaned closer to stare at the handsome face. Her gaze lingered on high, stark cheekbones, the straight, sharp nose and a sensually curved, full-lipped mouth. His chin was square with a dimple in the middle. Aye, he was a striking devil, all right. She met his humorous regard and stayed annoyed. “Yer still a brainless dullard and will be most likely back to stinking within the day.” She turned away and asked a maid to bring her a cup of wine. She could barely believe that this gorgeous male was the same smelly brute she had met only days ago. Just looking at him made her heart race.

“After ye finish yer drink, we will begin the ceremony.” He was clearly enjoying seeing how flustered she was. For him, it had been worth all the effort to see the appreciation in her lovely eyes.

Grateful when the maid returned, she thanked the lass and requested another. She whipped back to the man beside her and glared at him. “Tis nae need to rush things. We have all evening.”

“I see nae reason to delay the wedding.” He tipped his shoulder and watched in amazement as she swallowed the wine down in one long swallow.  

Her eyes watering, she placed the empty goblet on the table and picked up the full cup. “I have a request to make?” She was too nervous to meet his gaze and sipped her wine.

“Aye, I am listening.”

She leaned a little closer and dropped her voice. “When it comes time for the bedding, I ask ye that it will be done in private, without strangers watching.”

He had to bend down to hear what she whispered in a trembling voice, but when she had finished, his head shot up and he could only stare at her bent head. “Have nae fear on
that
, sweeting. When I make ye my wife in every sense, nae one else will be there but you and me.”

Thank ye, thank ye, thank ye.
She peeked at him from beneath her lashes and wondered if she could wring another request out of him. She decided it was worth a try. “I also ask of ye if ye mayhap would be willing to wait to consummate our union until we are better acquainted?”

“Nay, dearling, that I willna agree to. We will have plenty of time to get to know each other afterwards. I promise, ye have nae to fear, and I swear on my oath, ye will be well-satisfied.” He plucked the half-full cup out of her hand and placed it on the table. Curling his fingers around hers, he led her to where Father Ryan was waiting for them.

What in tarnation did he mean, she would be satisfied? She hadn’t held much hope that he would be agreeable, but she had to try. She let out a loud sigh of resignation. When they stood in front of the priest, she started to shake. She heard the rogue beside her speak his vows in a loud, clear voice. When it came to her turn she listened intently. Her mouth pinched as she considered the promises she was asked to agree to. Love, honor and obey were the ones that bothered her the most. She couldn’t lie to God or the father; she was sure to burn in hell if she did. Her foot started tapping beneath her gown as she pondered the matter.

A smile lifted the corners of her mouth when she had it all worked out. “Father, t’would be a sin to swear to something I canna do. My husband will have to prove to me that he is worth honoring. As for love, well, that might nae be possible. After all, Father, look who I am marrying. Obeying, well I have nae been verra good at that. ‘Tis a flaw in me, ye ken. So I canna give my oath to any of them. But the rest,” she waved her hand in the air, “that I can swear to. If the great fool sickens, I’ll take care of him. For better or worse, well, it couldna get any worse than this, now, could it? As for wealth, well, I’ll kick him in the backside for nae providing for me and for being lazy.”

Pleased with herself, her gaze rose to the gaping priest and wondered what the matter with him. She swiveled her head and noticed he wasn’t the only one with his mouth hanging open; the handsome rogue beside her was doing the same. “Have ye taken leave of yer senses, ye big galoot?” She whispered harshly and watched him shake his head.

Coming out of his daze, Cameron cleared his throat and gave his attention back to Father Ryan. “Ye may continue, father.” He had never heard such outrageous wedding vows before, and he could understand why the priest was so bewildered.

She had really done it now, she thought miserably as she was swept off her feet and her husband’s mouth played lightly over hers. Once again she was struck by the odd feelings and was glad when the kiss was over. The worst was yet to come, and she knew the only way she could survive it was by getting sotted. She was deaf to all the cheering going on in the great hall as she was guided over to the table and into her chair. Straightaway she reached for the goblet half full of wine and gulped it down. She poured herself another one from the jug on the table. Dear God, what had she done? She could barely believe she’d gone through with it. Was she completely demented?

And what about her father? How was he going to react when he learned what she had done? He would probably beat her black and blue, then disown her for ruining his plans. She continued to sip from her cup as she worried over the problem. He was going to hate giving up her large dowry and would most likely try to find some way not to pay it. She had no idea what wealth the McCloud had, but by rights the money and property were owed to him. She worried her bottom lip and wondered if she should mention it to him, but glancing at him and seeing him in deep conversation with the priest, decided to wait for another time to bring up the subject.

Her gaze skimmed over the hall and saw everyone laughing and drinking. At least
someone
was happy with the marriage, she thought despondently. She slumped further into her chair after she refilled her mug. All she could hope for was that the feast would go on until late into the night. She was definitely not looking forward to retiring. Her whole body shuddered at what awaited her in the marriage bed. No, she’d better not think about it. She’d end up in bedlam if she continued. Glumly she continued to watch the crowd as she sipped more wine. Unwanted, a picture of her naked husband filled her mind. Dread tied her stomach into knots at the thought of him stabbing the large apparatus inside her. It would probably hurt her tremendously and might even split her in two.

Just the thought of how painful it was going to be made beads of sweat break out on her brow. Her lashes fluttered down, hiding the fear that was starting to ripple through her. With a trembling hand, she lifted the mug of wine and gulped down the contents. How was she ever going to suffer through the horrendous act without screaming in agony and losing her mind? Even if she managed to live through the unbearably painful act, she probably wouldn’t be able to leave the bed for months. If he didn’t tear her in two, she doubted she would even have the strength to walk. Perhaps it would be a better idea if she got him sotted instead of herself. If he was drunk enough, he wouldn’t be able to perform. She pondered the idea for several long minutes and decided it was a far better course of action.

However, she would have a few more glasses of wine for courage first. She tipped her shoulders and sipped again from her goblet. Through the veil of her lashes, she peeked up at the big oaf who was now her husband and grimaced. What he had to talk about at such length to the priest was anyone’s guess; whatever the conversation was about, it certainly displeased him, if the sour expression on his handsome face was anything to go by. And that was another thing. She still couldn’t believe that this striking, gorgeous man was the same stinking oaf she had first met. It was unbelievable that under all that dirt and hair was a truly sensational-looking man.

At least now he didn’t smell so offensive. She supposed she could be grateful for that, if nothing else. She would probably have been sick all over him again if he still stunk. He had a nerve, though, to tell her he was displeased with the way she smelt. Ha! At least she washed regularly. Slowly her gaze moved around the hall and for the first time noticed some effort had been made to clean it. Did her derogatory remarks about the uncleanliness of his home wound his pride? Perhaps there was some hope for him after all and he wasn’t really a slow-witted dullard after all. Not that she cared one way or the other, but it would be less of an embarrassment to her if her husband had a few brains and some common sense.

She supposed it would be her duty now to take over the caring of his home, and she wrinkled her nose at the thought of all the scrubbing that would have to be done. Lord, it would probably take her months to accomplish turning the whole keep into a pleasant and clean place to live. She also intended to approach the women of the clan, because she hoped they would be easier to persuade to take baths and wear clean clothing. She didn’t want to offend anyone, but dear heavens! It would be better than smelling the stench of their unwashed bodies every day. Even now, she could smell the foul body odor filling the hall. She didn’t know how exactly she was going to go about it, but come hell or high water, she was going to try.

If her husband could change, so could everyone else. A little soap and water never hurt anyone. Tomorrow she would see about having a large batch of soap made before she started to tackle the hall. At least she supposed she would keep busy, and that was much better than sitting around, twiddling her thumbs and being bored to death. The sound of laughter and raised voices grew louder, bringing her out of her pondering. She finished of the rest of her wine and poured another, hoping to kill the dread sitting in the pit of her stomach.