Chapter 5
The chase was on from the moment they left the stables. Dark gave way to gray light as the rainy day began. The sounds of many horses were always behind them, tracking their every move and never ceasing their pursuit.
As they evaded the riders, the morning became a rainy, dark afternoon. Stopping only once, they made a quick trip into the woods for them both. There was no conversation as the pair met again by the waiting stallion. As Ian held Claire by the waist to place her back on the beast, he placed a soft kiss to her cold lips.
Ian offered the only words time would allow. “Come, sweeting, by nightfall we will be safe. I swear this to you.” He prayed silently that they could evade the men for another half day and find the safety of his keep.
The horse jumping another fallen branch brought Claire back to herself. I didn’t know that spring rain could be so cold or even last so long. It was never like this in Arizona. Have I ever been this cold? Sure I was, last night. But then I was so warm. She shivered this time not from cold, but from memory. Then Ian’s arm tightened around her waist, holding her even closer. She felt his warmth against her back as they rode.
I shouldn’t be thinking about that, not now. I should think about the fear, the danger we had been in, and that we’re still in. I should think about the men that stood there, that I talked to, that had watched. Fear and shame gripped her again in a rush.
What have I done? Why? Ha! Like I thought at all. Being with Ian was like a force of nature, and there was no stopping it. The feel of Ian, his hands, his mouth, the warmth of his skin, and the pleasure I never knew existed . . . I lost all reason and all control. Maybe it was the fear of capture or the fear of death. No, there is no rationalizing this. I simply wanted him in a way that defies explanation. For that brief time, nothing else existed. Only us. Ian’s words painted such a wonderful picture, the image of a beautiful beginning. I had no idea I could feel so cherished, so wanted, and then so alive.
His. This is what I can’t think about. What he had asked me to agree to. Even then, caught up in the heat of moment, caught in the madness of my desire for him, I knew I couldn’t say it. I’m not his. How could I be? He will never be mine. There was someone else. Somewhere there was a bride, and she would be his.
Ian pulled Claire closer when she shivered, holding her to him as they rode. He knew she was freezing. The rain and wind chased them, as did the men. Upon reaching his home, he would see to a bath to warm her skin and a fine meal to fill her belly. Images of the two of them sharing a meal in his chamber kept him spurring on his tired beast. He would spend this night apologizing for the last one. There were many ways he could apologize, and in his mind he saw them all. When Claire was sated, he would hold her through the night.
On the morrow, he would see her dressed in the finest he had to offer. Ian would see that she wore his plaid over her shoulder, the Draig colors marking Claire for all to witness. The clan would be pleased. His sister would approve, more than approve, and he could see them as friends. The sheet would hang over the fireplace in the hall. Their vow would be repeated for the whole clan to hear. The women would welcome her, and the men would be pleased. She would be recognized as a part of his clan. Their beginning would truly start. Claire was his now.
Ian had never been so grateful to see his lands and to not hear horses in the distance. They had kept their lead. Changing paths again and again had worked. It had made for a much longer ride, but it was worth it.
“Do you see it before you, sweeting? It lies just ahead.” Ian knew his voice was filled with pride.
Ian could only see the outline of stonewalls in the dark night. The keep itself was only visible due to the torchlight from within. The smell of the sea offered a balm to his tired soul. Even from where they were, he could hear the crash of the waves against the cliffs that guarded the far side of his home. In the distance, the village looked safe and secure as the storm raged.
Ian needed only to bring Claire inside the walls. The threat was gone. He had brought her to safety. He had brought her home. Safe at home with Claire was a thought that held much meaning for him. She had gifted him with a vision of the life his heart wanted. Ian wondered how many other things in his life truly had value. His family, of course, his lands, his clan, and this place he was not sure he would have ever seen again. For the first time since becoming laird, there was a sense of well-being in his heart.
They would be warm and safe in only a few moments with his gates in sight. Ian should prepare her for the reception she would receive. It was not every day he rode in with a wife in his arms. Despite the cold rain and wind, he smiled. The entire clan was waiting to hear that their laird would marry. They waited for news of the prosperity the match would bring. News of prosperity . . .
The clan was waiting for word that Ian had agreed to the betrothal, a marriage with a dowry to ease their worry and his burden. It all flooded back in, every reason he was on the road and every reason he had refused to acknowledge for the past day and a half. Taxes, not enough coin or wealth to provide for his people, a promise of a marriage contract and the dowry so desperately needed. Clan wars had started over broken contracts. He had lost his way, lost sight of his path. So captivated was he by the lass in his arms that he had forgotten his duty.
In a single heartbeat, Ian saw his dream of a happy future with Claire fade. Responsibility and duty were the first lessons given to him by his father. He was tormented by the paths that lay before him. He had a duty to Claire. He had taken what belonged to her future husband, what she had saved. He had claimed her, and she had said nothing in return. Did she not want me? Or did she remember what I had chosen to forget?
“Why d-d-did we s-s-stop?” Claire’s teeth chattered.
Ian’s arms tightened around her waist, turning her slightly in the saddle to see her face as he spoke. “I need to ask you a question, one of great import.” Ian tried to search her eyes in the dark as his hands brought her face to his and then leaned in with their foreheads touching. With a voice full of urgency, Ian posed his questions. “I claimed you, Claire, I ken well you heard my words. Why did you nay agree? Why did you nay give me the words in return? I can still claim you as wife, do you ken that?”
“What do you mean, your wife? I don’t understand. She doesn’t arrive for a while yet.”
Laughing at the response, Ian said, “I mean you, Claire, you are my wife. There is nay a man or woman on my lands who would deny that what passed between us was anything less than a marriage.”
There was no laughter returned as Claire replied, “I am not your wife. Why would I be your wife?”
Ian didn’t understand how she could doubt him. In his eyes, he had treated her as his wife. “Claire, I told you last night I would honor our bedding. I claimed you as my own. On the morrow, we will say the words before all who gather in my hall. ‘Tis all but done.” He was satisfied now she would take him at his word. Ian would do his duty.
Claire’s eyes widened at his statement. “Ian, that doesn’t make us married, it just . . . it just doesn’t.”
“Among my people, what happened between us does mean we are wed. Come into my walls as my wife.” Ian knew his voice had taken on a pleading tone.
Claire looked up at him, startled by his tone. “Married?”
Ian studied her like a hawk. Taking a breath, he told himself she just needed a moment and then she would see he was right. She would acknowledge him and what had passed between them. Unable to wait any longer, he kissed her. No small kiss, but a hungry kiss, one that would remind her of their passion, one that would leave her breathless and wanting more. He took Claire’s mouth captive and kissed her with everything he had. She melted into him and his fire.
When he released her, she was exactly as he wished, breathless and not done with him. Holding her face with both hands, Ian stated, “You are my wife.” As Ian spoke, he tried to wipe the rain from her face and hair.
For a moment, Ian saw what he wanted, soft eyes holding his, and he could read the agreement in her expression. He placed a gentle kiss to her lips. “You are mine, say it.”
With a shaking voice, Claire replied, “You are already supposed to be marrying someone else. I think we both know we shouldn’t have made love last night.” Her eyes closed. “I understand you are trying to do right by me. There is no way I can hold you to something said when we thought we would never see tomorrow.”
Weighing her words, he knew she was right. Their time together the previous night hadn’t been some quick tussle with a lass. Claire spoke true; he had made love with her, and he wanted to spend every night with her in his arms. Ian knew she was the one he wanted, not only in bed, but also by his side.
“I claimed you because I want you by my side. That you were untouched had little to do with my offer. I want you, Claire, for all my days and nights. Spend your life with me.”
Opening her eyes, Claire finally met his gaze. “I can’t pay your taxes or provide for your people. I thought that was what you needed.”
Ian wanted to fight but couldn’t. The hope had been that she would agree and the decision would be made. The dream that he would marry for pleasure and not profit died painfully. The full weight of what had been set in motion sat upon Ian’s chest like a dead weight. This chance at happiness was gone. It had been just a brief respite from his fate.
Answering his unspoken thoughts, Claire continued, “Ian, I can’t be with you, not if your people would suffer because of me.”
“I should make you marry me just for saying those words.” Holding her face in his hands, Ian wished he could argue away the truth.
Trying to find a way, any way that she would demand he claim her, Ian’s next words were strained. “Then tell me, why were you untouched? Were you waiting for your husband?”
“I never assumed it would be with the man I would marry. I . . . I . . . I just wanted it to matter.” Her answering voice was soft and steady but held little conviction.
Ian heard the lie mixed with truth in her answer. “It did, sweet Claire, I swear this to you.” Ian’s voice was strong and clear. “I never kenned it could matter so deeply.” He wanted her to know this, needed her to know this. There were no words to impart how she had touched his heart. He added, “I dinna have the words to tell you how much I regret nay bringing you in as my wife.”
Holding his face in her hands, she gave him a soft kiss, sweet and chaste. Without looking directly at him, Claire said, “Let’s go inside, Ian.”
Gazing at her face with only sadness and longing for what could not be, Ian answered, “Of course, Claire. You must be freezing.”