Winning the Highlander's Heart (25 page)

“Nay, Anice—”

“I wished him dead, Malcolm.  I wanted it!  I prayed for it!  And I killed him.”  She hung her head low.

“You would no’ have done such a thing if he had not tried to violate you.”

“His kinsman did not believe me and wished me put to death for killing their brethren.  But my clansman and King Alexander put a stop to their cry for vengeance.  My uncle did not try to marry me off again, and when he died, Alexander hustled me off to his sister, hoping King Henry would have better success at finding me a husband.”

Anice looked at Malcolm.  “I am cursed when it comes to betrothals, just like the missive stated.”

“Ah, lass, ‘tis nay such thing as a curse.”

 “For years the ugly rumors have followed me.”

“Anice, mayhap…”  He thought for a moment, then smiled.  “Mayhap your kissing me broke the curse.”

“Och.”  She frowned at him, disbelieving he would say such a thing.

“You’d never kissed one of your betrothed before.  Mayhap by…showing your gratitude to me, you ended the spell.”  Malcolm had nearly said choosing him for her own may have broken the curse, but he figured he’d have a joust on his hands if he intimated it.

“Mayhap,” she said, her gaze focused on her hands, as if she were considering the matter favorably.

“Aye, lass, think naught more of it.”  At least he truly didn’t believe in a curse, only that the lady had a horrible case of bad luck when it came to her family choosing husbands for her.

As they approached Whitehaven’s castle in the fading light, they removed their monk garb and hid them under their bedrolls.  They proceeded to the gatehouse, where the guard permitted them entrance to the inner bailey.

Once they dismounted, Whitehaven’s steward hastened to greet them.  “Lord Whitehaven is pleased you are here, Lord MacNeill.  He says you finally caught an English lady to be your wife, and I must say she is lovely.”  The steward winked at Malcolm.

 Anice fumed.  She knew he couldn’t be trusted.  Malcolm didn’t correct the gentlemen and avoided looking at Anice’s scowl.

Laird Whitehaven greeted them in the hall where the meal was already in progress.  Tall, and dark-haired, he was a stately gentleman.  “Come, sit with me.”  He smiled broadly at Anice.  “And this is your lovely bride, Lady MacNeill.  ‘Tis a pleasure to meet ye.”

“Aye.”  Malcolm wrapped his arm around her waist.  “But the lady is Scottish, not English as your good steward had presumed.”

“Honest mistake as the last time I heard, you were seeking an English wife.  So where are you headed?”

“Glen Affric, to her estates.”

The laird raised his brows.  “The lass has properties?”

“Aye.”

She glared at Malcolm.  What happened to the plan to say he was the new steward at Brecken and he was her husband?  Not a lady who owned a castle.

They took their seats and Malcolm reached for Anice’s hand clenched in her lap, but she pulled away from him.  He patted her thigh instead, and her blood heated.  ‘Twas all right at Brecken because her people would know she wasn’t married to Malcolm, but she did not like the ruse they played in front of the earl and his people.

“I will make sure you have the privacy you need with your lovely new wife, Malcolm.”

Malcolm didn’t object.  Was he afraid to have the laird think there was something amiss between Malcolm and his wife?

There was!  They weren’t married!  She punched Malcolm in the leg.  He grabbed her hand and uncurled her fist, then held her hand securely to keep her from hitting him again.

“Mayhap for the eve since we are in a strange new place, it would be best if the lady slept with some of your ladies,” Malcolm suggested.

She held her breath, ready to release it when the earl agreed.

“Nonsense.  I would not think of it.  The two of you would sneak around the castle to share treasured moments alone.  This way you will be assured of spending the whole night with your lovely wife without interruption.”

Och, she wanted to scream.  She tried to jerk her hand free to poke Malcolm again, to encourage him to change the laird’s mind.

“Would it be possible for the lady to have a bath after the meal?”

Now she could really scream.  Did he want her cleaned up so she could smell nice for him on their bed of straw?

 “Aye, and for you, too.  It would bode ill if your fair lady smelled of lavender and you of your horse.”

Malcolm laughed.  “You are right, of course.  I cannot thank you enough for sharing your feast and hospitality with us.”

“You took an arrow for me once.  I will always be indebted to ye.”

Anice frowned at Malcolm.  He said he’d met the laird at the king’s court.  When did the arrow incident happen?  And why hadn’t Malcolm told her he’d saved his life?  No wonder the laird wanted to ensure Malcolm and his new wife had a night of marital bliss.

“Have you come across a Lady Anice and her escort on your travels?”

The wine Anice attempted to swallow slipped down the wrong way.  She sputtered and coughed and Malcolm patted her back.  “Are you all right, lass?”

With watery eyes, she nodded, then coughed some more.

When she’d settled down, Malcolm said to the earl, “Where was the lady coming from and where was she headed?”

“She had been at Arundel and was headed for Brecken Castle.”

“Have you any idea what she may look like?”

“Nay, the baron said His Grace remarked she was a fair lady who would be any man’s pride and joy.”

“Aye.”  Malcolm smiled.  She scowled, furious over the bath and bed arrangement.

“She travels with a lady companion and four gentlemen, but the baron fears some harm may have come to her and her escort.”

Malcolm cut up his beef.  “Why would he come to that conclusion?  Has there been evidence of foul play?”

“He thought he should have met up with her by now.”

“Women can be a bit slow at times.”

Anice sat taller.  “Who wanted to hunt and delay our journey?”

The earl smiled at her.  “I like this lass of yours.”

“Aye, she is a verra good catch.”

Was she a fish now?  “You are treading on verra swampy ground,” she whispered in warning to Malcolm.

He responded by kissing her cheek.  “I love ye, too, lass.”

She stabbed her beef with her knife, lest she do what she had the urge to do.  Slap him for his impertinence.  If he thought he was sleeping with her that eve, he was gravely mistaken.

*  *  *

“I have a special surprise for you and your wife,” Lord Whitehaven told Malcolm.  He motioned to a servant following the meal.  “Take Lord and Lady MacNeill to their quarters off the kitchen.”

He turned to Malcolm.  “The kitchen heat warms the room we use for storage, and there is ample space to take a bath and sleep.  I oft use it for special guests.”

A maid waited quietly until Laird Whitehaven nodded to her.

“We cannot do this, Malcolm,” Anice whispered to him.  “He and all his staff will know we slept together, unwedded, when he learns who I truly am.”

Malcolm rubbed his whiskered chin.  “I cannot think of a way to get out of it.”

“’Tis because you do not want to.”

He smiled.  She frowned back at him.  How could he not see how much trouble they were buying with their actions?

They stepped into the room where the servants were filling the half-barrel tub with water.  The tub looked oversized and owing to the surprised expression Anice must have expressed, the maid smiled.  “’Tis the lord’s pleasure to bathe with his wife.”

Ladies sometimes bathed together in a tub off their kitchen, but never had she heard the laird and lady would do such a thing.  Anice’s cheeks grew hot, and she turned to Malcolm in a panic.  “You will have to wait outside.”

“But the earl will think I do not appreciate my wife verra much.”  His lips curved up like a rogue’s, who was about to steal the lady’s jewels, and his eyes darkened with intrigue.  He was enjoying her discomfort entirely too much.

“If you do not wait outside, I will tell the earl the whole story.”

Malcolm glanced back at the tub and smiled.  “We will have to have one of these made for us, lass.”

When he stepped into the kitchen, the earl walked in.  “Have you seen a tub like that before?”

“Nay, I was telling my wife we need to commission one.  I can see the advantage of bathing together.  Saves water and time.”

The earl laughed.  “You always did have a sense of humor.”

Watching the servants fill the tub, Anice folded her arms. 

“The servants will help you to undress, and after that, they can stay to wash ye, or—”

“Laird MacNeill will bathe after I do,” Anice said, her voice raised with determination.

Malcolm shook his head.  “’Tis not that she does not appreciate the offer, but she is shy.”

“The servants will be dismissed then, and you shall be left alone with your lovely bride.”

Anice’s blood couldn’t have boiled any hotter.  Now what was she to do?

After the servants added lilacs to the water, they left. 

Malcolm moved toward the room, but Anice held her hand out.  “You will not join me.”

“But, lass, we will have our privacy.”

She was certain he would turn his back and wouldn’t watch her bathe, but that wasn’t the problem.  ‘Twas the fact everyone else in the castle would think they had bathed together.  If the word got out she was Lady Anice and not married to Malcolm...it would be a disaster.

“I will let you haggle this one out for yourself,” the earl said, grinning.

As he turned to walk away, Anice said, “We are not married, and I am the Lady Anice.”  She slammed the door closed and proceeded to struggle with her gowns.  After she removed her wimple and veils, she opened the door to find both men staring at her with their mouths agape.  “Beg your pardon, milaird, but if one of your maids could assist me with my gowns, I would appreciate it.”

She closed the door again, only gentler this time.

“A word with ye, milord,” the earl said gruffly to Malcolm.  “And Elizabeth, attend to Lady Anice like a good girl, if you would.”

After Anice’s actions, the king would have to give Malcolm a dukedom to marry such a woman.  Of all the gall.  Hadn’t they been in perfect agreement she would pretend to be his wife?  Hell, she was the one who suggested it in the first place!  He walked with the earl to his solar, and they sat down at a table.

“Fetch us some wine,” the earl said to a servant.  Then he turned to Malcolm.  “What is this all about?  I give you my hospitality, and this is how you repay me?”

Malcolm explained how they had come to believe the baron had killed her uncle.  The evidence was only circumstantial, though, as they could not prove the baron had paid the mercenaries to murder what they thought to be Lady Anice’s escort.  The only way they had escaped detection was to wear monks’ garments while the baron and his men searched the countryside for them.

The earl waved for a word.  “I do not understand why you would tell me the lady is your wife.”