Alec was not prepared for the bonny lass that came bouncing down the steps.
Almost immediately, he frowned. Something wasn’t right. After their conversation last night, she should not be so chipper—unless she had a change of heart. In which case, something was doubly wrong—because she never changed her mind about anything.
And he would know.
His keep was a wreck because of it.
“What has ye’ in such a good mood, lass?” he said, grunting when she walked behind him, her finger darting along his shoulders. Damn him if his body didn’t harden right there.
No, he thought. He had to remain strong. The lass was a sly one, full of tricks to use against him. What would it be today? Frustration? Drive him to the brink of madness to slip some mud past him to taint his keep some more?
He thought not!
Standing quickly, he brought himself to his full height to tower over her. The only people milling about were maids, and he knew their loyalty would keep them silent from whatever conversation they happened to hear.
“Ye’ did not answer me, lass,” he said lowly, catching her by the arm. He tried to be firm, but his grip automatically softened. Her arm was so thin, so delicate. He felt as if the smallest squeeze would have her snapping like a twig.
“I was not aware that I couldn’t be joyful,” she said, a quick smile darting across her lips. “You know, after the night we had. Wouldn’t anyone be happy?”
His cheeks went dark before he could think of a proper way to react. The hall was silent, with close to no activity, but that did not mean he expected her to speak so brazenly.
“Lass,” he said, his voice serving as a low warning. “Ye’ best watch what ye’ say. Our coupling will not be made public knowledge. We are to be—“
“We are not to be,” she broke in quickly, that same easy demeanor shielding her from his retort. He pressed his lips, jaw clenching. It was hard to be angry with her when she was so…beautiful. And strong-willed.
Alec dragged a hand down his face. He was to be married to a woman as stubborn as he—which could only mean one thing—constant warring, constant power plays. He tried to see the downside to it. Before, he had never wanted to marry, for the simple fact that he did not want a woman worrying over him, bothering him, or controlling him. Nor did he want a meek woman, one who would let things slide past her, or one who would not pull as much as he.
He tried to see how this coupling between them would be doomed, but alas, he could not find a single reason. He realized, that despite how mad this woman made him, there was a fire inside of her that he wanted—needed. She woke up parts of him that had been long dead, since the death of his mother, since he had joined the kings war.
She woke him.
With her banter, her laughter; with her deviousness, her innocence. Staring down at her, watching that spark in her eye, he found himself…softening toward her.
In a way that he never had before.
His jaw clenched. The urge to take her into his arms and kiss that spark into a raging, burning fire was overwhelming.
“Lass, you seem to forget something,” he murmured, touching the inside of her wrist. Some of her smile disappeared, and she stilled. He wrapped his hand around that delicate wrist, then slid his arm up, until he was taking her by the shoulder and dragging her close to him.
She went without a fight.
Bodies flush, he thought back to last night. How her breasts had been so full and beautiful in the moonlight, how she’d been so desperate for him… It all hit him like a boulder, and he was instantly hard—and he let her know it, too.
When their hips came together with the grip on her waist, she gasped, eyes widening.
“All it takes is one word to your father, and he will be demanding marriage.”
She blinked, and then a dark smile crept over her face. “Or he’ll demand your head.”
He laughed. Before she had come down to break her fast, he had consulted Tomas on where to go from there. Aye, he had been dead and determined to wed her last night, but waking up, he had realized there needed to be some sort of discussion over it.
During that discussion, he had learned quite a bit about the lovely miss Blayne Shaw. And in that conversation, he had learned that Tomas had heard down the line that she had run because of her mother—who had been trying to force her into marriage to Broderick’s son.
Not a bad match, he admitted, but he could understand now why she was so against marriage.
Her first husband had been a monster worthy of a great, long-lasting, torture-filled death.
And since Alec hadn’t had the chance to exact that death, he would make up for it in other ways—as in, giving her a marriage she deserved, a husband who would do her proud. He would be a husband who would honor her, worship her, and stoke the flames inside of her until she was damn near burning the keep down.
That was a promise he would make to her, but there was only one thing stopping him.
The reservation in her eyes.
With that reservation, came the memory of her complete shut down when they had shared their first kiss.
Time, he thought. She needed time. And as much as he wanted to make her his, he would give that to her.
With a grunt, he released her.
And just like that, she was back again.
“So, my lord,” she said, clearing her throat. “Tell me—tell me about the Callahan’s.”
He frowned. “Why would ye’ wish to ken about them?”
“Well, if we are to be married, then I think I should know about my neighbors, correct?”
“I…” Two seconds ago, she had been refuting the idea of marriage. And now she seemed to be coming to terms with it?
Something was wrong.
“How did the feuding between the two of you start?” she asked.
“Over sheep,” he said slowly. To raise his guard over a simple question would be foolish. “Callahan’s laird at the time, Alban, did not want his sheep wandering into the forest and past, into our land. He thought that we should be responsible for a fence, since the forest was part of his land.”
She nodded, resting her hip on the table, a considerate look on her beautiful, pale face.
“That is quite a simple thing to remedy.”
“Aye, but my great grandfather did not feel it was his place to put up a fence, since Alban was the one requesting it.”
“Ah,” she murmured, tapping her chin. “Well, who eventually put up the fence?”
“They did. McGregors donna back down from a challenge,” he said firmly. “We also donna deal with petty nuances such as the Callahan’s. Since the fence went up years ago, the king eventually decreed that as it was on our land, we would maintain it. Now the Callahan’s make it their goal to ruin it when the sheep are in for the season.”
“That’s not very nice of them,” she said, frowning.
“Nay, it’s no’. And the king has no’ taken action against it, either. So we maintain it to keep the warring down—most spring months, I am away from the keep. The less to worry about here, the better. It seems nothing we do will get them to back down, and a few broken pieces of fence is no’ worth men’s lives.”
At that, her brow lowered.
“Why do you leave during spring months?”
“I have duties to the king,” he said, sighing. “Now, lass. What has brought all of this about?”
She shrugged, pushing away from the table. “Nothing, my lord. Thank you for talking with me, but I must be off for now—“
He reached for her arm when she would have walked past him, stopping her in her tracks. When he spoke, his voice was nothing but a dark murmur. “I do no’ ken yer angle for this information, but I will warn ye’ lass—do not meddle in things that do no’ concern ye’. The Callahan’s might be petty, but they are also deadly when need be. To have The Lion’s daughter sniffing about…they would no’ take kindly to that, no matter how daft the lot may be.”
She gave him a small smile, but the look in her eyes was…sad?
“Aye, my lord,” she said, nodding her head demurely. Then, before he could get another word in, the lass was striding away from him with her head down low, arms crossed over her chest.
He faced the hall, brows lowering. What on earth was she planning?
If he wasn’t aware of her track record, he wouldn’t be worried. But with her having set a forest on fire, building a pond in his keep, and repeatedly running off, he knew better.
Tonight, he thought. After the missives to her family had been sent, after the pastor was notified, and his duties were taken care of for the day, he would confront her. If she sought to cause more trouble between him and the Callahan’s, he had to put an end to it. Not for his sake, but for hers. God forbid they found out she was the one to set fire to their forest… He could only imagine what would happen if they found out.
He watched her go for only a moment, then turned back to his meal. From beside him, his father came out of the corner to sit. Alec stayed silent, just knowing his father had something to say about the situation.
“I heard all of that,” the McGregor said, resting his elbows on the table.
“Ah, look at the bear, coming out of hibernation. Ye’ ken, ye’ shouldn’t eavesdrop so much.”
McGregor shrugged. “My days as laird are long gone, lad. What else am I supposed to do to keep myself alive?”
Alec cast him a side glance. “Breathe?”
“Ye’ take things too literal, boy.” The McGregor nudged his shoulder, then gave him a quelling gaze. “Tell me ye’ did no’ take the lass to bed last night. Tell me that was a lie.”
“No’ a lie, father. We are to bed,” he said, nodding shortly. “Tomas is bringing word to Laird Shaw, and it should be over with within a fortnight at most.”
“’Over with’? Lad, ye’ realize how impersonal ye’ sound about all this? Lady Blayne had a wreck of a first marriage. She deserves a courtship worthy of a Queen. Can ye’ imagine living a life with not only the status of her father over yer head, as well as living with the past of being married to a barbarian like Hagen…”
“Hagen?” The name was familiar, but the memories were distant.
“Aye, Hagen Wilson. He went through two wives in just a couple years. Spent a lot of time alone after that. I heard he had a few bastards.”
His brows raised. “Did ye’ now?”
“Fredrick, Dawson, and the eldest, Charles. The younger siblings are black smiths now, I think.”
“And Charles?” He wondered if Lady Blayne knew of them. From what he had guessed, her time with him had been short and traumatizing. Had the bastard children resented her, made her life miserable?
“Ah, last I heard, he was off serving the king. No’ sure if he’s back now or no’.”
Alec shook his head. “For the life of me, ye’ ken the strangest things.”
McGregor shrugged. “It was my job to know. Kane Shaw was a close friend of mine. When I learned Lady Blayne was to be married off to Hagen, of course he had me learn everything I could about him. My contacts have kept me in touch with their whereabouts in the past couple years out of habit. That old fart passed away shortly after marrying her, thank the lord, and then she returned home to her parents.”
He frowned. “What about the lands? The clan? She left no heirs…” He would have known. Even in the dark of night, he had felt her body. He’d felt how smooth and toned she had been, and knew just from touch that she had bore no children.
“My guess is Charles Wilson took control of it. Her father told me she rejected all the rights land, even his name.”
“That’s…”
“Odd. I ken. But that Lady Blayne is a stubborn, crafty wench. She kens how to get what she wants, when she wants it.”
Alec smiled at that. “Aye, she does.”
“And,” the McGregor pointed out, “she also kens how to resist what she does no’ want.”
He glowered. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, lad. Have ye’ really given her much reason to want ye’? To want to marry ye’?”
“Aye, of course I have. She let me into her bed last night!”
The McGregor rolled his eyes. “Please, lad. We both know that she is a woman not of these times—and she’s already been married. If she wishes to play behind closed doors, there’s no one telling her she cannot.”
His jaw ticked at the thought. “She would not—“
“Yer right. She wouldn’t. But that doesn’t also mean she will automatically want to marry you. Ye’ve really not given her a reason to, my lad. Mayhap if you spent time with her doing something she liked. Mayhap if you showed her you weren’t a right brute all the time, she’d be more open to the idea.”
“Well, once her father finds out—“
“She’s still a woman of age who can make some decisions on her own, Alec. She’s had a lot of choices stripped from her control. Why should her next marriage be the same situation? I would think she’d resent you for forcing her hand, lad,” his father said, the tone ominous. As much as Alec didn’t want to believe that, he did.
He knew that as much as he wanted her, she had to want him back. Aye, he was still going to flaunt the idea in front of her in hopes that it would help sway her, but his father was right—he should be doing things to make her want to marry him.
Blayne was not a woman who cared for fine jewelry or dresses. Bollocks, he thought. Every day that she had been here, she’d worn a pair of trews and a long sleeve shirt. Getting her to wear a dress had become full-on war. Nay, his Lady Blayne was not a woman with such fine tastes. Rather, she was a woman more accustomed to past times—like the creek.
The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning.
“Thank you, father,” he said, pushing back from the table with a surge. If he wanted to have time with his woman tonight, he had best get started on his duties for the day.
“Aye, aye,” the McGregor said tiredly, waving a hand. As Alec strode away, a new purpose in his gate, he barely heard his father mutter, “For once, the lad gets it right.”