Taming the Highlander. Terri Brisbin

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      He watched as she started to speak and then stopped, clamping her lips shut. She used her free hand to move the long tangled mass of her hair out of her face and over her shoulder. Globs of mud and muck dripped onto her already-sodden cloak.

      And they waited in a silence that grew even more uncomfortable as the minutes passed until finally a stirring among the crowd opened a path for Duncan and the priest. The priest walked to him and bowed.

      “My lord, this is very unusual.”

      “Aye, Father, ’tis that.”

      “Should we not allow the lady to prepare for the ceremony and hold it on the morrow?”

      “Nay. My betrothed has requested, nay demanded, that we speak our vows now. If you will be good enough to hear them and say the words?”

      He knew Father Micheil was confused by his actions, but he also knew he would do whatever Connor wanted him to. So, a few minutes later, he found himself married once again. And if he felt overwhelmed by it, he could only imagine what his bride felt. The tremors he felt in her arm and her chattering teeth told him that she was not reacting well to the honor of being his wife.

      “Ailsa,” he called out to one of the women who served him. “Take the lady to her chambers and see to her.”

      He relinquished his hold and watched as Jocelyn wordlessly followed Ailsa into the keep. Turning to Duncan, he motioned him to his side. Connor waited until the crowd had dispersed and the activities in the yard resumed their natural noises and pace.

      “Come inside and explain why you and my bride are covered in the same mud.”

      It was only by sheer determination that Jocelyn was able to remain standing throughout the wedding and to follow the woman through the keep and up several flights of stairs in the far tower. Every step was a challenge. Every moment brought pain to her. She knew if she faltered or hesitated she would collapse in a heap on the floor. So, she focused on the hem of the woman leading her to her chamber and prayed it would not be long in coming.

      After witnessing the extent of the disregard of her newly acquired husband, she was not certain what she should expect at the top of the stairs. Ailsa opened the door to a chamber and waited for her to enter first. Dragging her sopping garments across the threshold, Jocelyn was stopped by the sight of the comforts before her.

      The room was a large one, facing east, with several windows of glass. A large hearth filled one part of one wall and an alcove set below the larger of the windows. Cushions made the wooden bench look very appealing. Even more appealing to her was the huge bed in the far corner. Hesitant to dirty the fresh rushes with the filth she carried, she looked to Ailsa for guidance.

      “Here now, lady,” Ailsa said as she approached. “Let me help ye out of those clothes.” Jocelyn had neither the desire nor the strength to resist the woman’s efforts. “I have called for hot water for a bath for ye.”

      Jocelyn fought back the tears that had threatened ever since she discovered her fate was in the hands of the MacLerie. She blamed it on her exhaustion and her fear for her brother’s safety and well-being. She stood and allowed Ailsa to peel the soggy layers of gown and chemise and plaid from her shaking body. When the noise outside the chamber signaled the arrival of the promised bath, Ailsa guided her behind a screen and continued to undress her, removing the mud that had found its way inside her garments. After a few more minutes, Jocelyn found herself sinking into the overly large tub of steaming scented water.

      She later remembered Ailsa lathering her hair with a pungent soap and rinsing it at least twice and helping her to wash the rest of herself. Then Jocelyn remembered being wrapped in heavy towels and sitting on the bed as a tray of food was delivered. And that was the last thing she knew until the rays of the rising sun flooded her room and roused her from a deep sleep.

      Panic filled her as she realized in an instant that she had not fulfilled the second part of the bargain. For unless bedding was an incredibly overrated experience and could be done on someone sound asleep, she doubted her husband had exercised his marital rights during the night.

      Climbing from the center of the bed and still wrapped in the towels from her bath, she searched through the trunks lining one wall for anything she could wear. Jocelyn did not know where her own small bundle was and she could find nothing suitable for her. A sense of dread engulfed her as she realized that without the consummation of their vows, Connor could still seek retribution on her brother. Unable to locate anything but bed linens in the chest, she slammed down the lid and shook her head. She was a prisoner until one of the servants came to her. Grabbing a brush from the table next to the bed, she pulled it through her hair and braided it quickly.

      Her activities must have alerted the servants that she was awake for soon a knock came on the door of the chamber and a young girl entered with a bucket of steaming water. After curtsying, the girl poured an amount of it into the basin by her bedside and sat the bucket near the hearth. With an efficiency born of experience, the servant had the fire within the hearth burning brightly with just a few adjustments to it. Then the girl turned to leave, but stopped once she’d pulled the door open.

      “Milady, the laird asks that ye join him in the hall to break yer fast.”

      “I fear I cannot do that…what is your name?”

      “Cora, milady.” The girl curtsied again.

      “Cora, please tell the laird that I cannot do as he asks—”

      Before she could finish, the girl was gone. Jocelyn did not think a body could move that fast, but in a blink of an eye, she was alone once more. Hoping that someone would seek her out and discover her need for clothes, she decided to wash up. Rearranging the towels around her, she leaned over and dipped her hands into the hot water. Splashing it onto her face, Jocelyn reached for a cloth to wipe the water off. The noise behind her startled her into turning and losing control over the layers of toweling around her until it loosened and slipped down her. Grasping it before it fell to her waist, she looked up expecting Cora.

      She found her husband. Connor MacLerie.

      And from the dangerous look on his face, she knew why he was called Beast. All the words she thought she would say to him froze in her throat as his gaze moved down her and settled on her breasts. She longed to slap the now lustful stare from his face, but as her husband, she knew she must submit to not only his gazes but also his touch, his possession of her body. She could not control the shudder that moved through her. Finally, he met her glare with one of his own.

      “I see that even the night of rest I allowed you has not sweetened your disposition. You would disobey even my smallest request?” He crossed his arms over his chest as he took several steps toward her. Although she would have liked to back away, she had nowhere to move.

      “Laird,” she said, looking around the room once more. “I did not disobey you.”

      “I called you to the hall below and you refused me. What else is it, but disobedience, plain and simple?”

      This was no way to begin their married life. A simple misunderstanding, but it could become something larger if she did not handle it well enough. Looking at him, she realized that she had not really taken his measure on her arrival. Exhausted, soaked through with icy muck and fearful for her brother’s well-being, she had stumbled through their meeting and their vows. Now, in the full light of the sun, she found she had married a wildly attractive man. Taller than her father, taller than even Ewan, СКАЧАТЬ