Authors: Susan Sizemore
And his way.
“You need me,” he told her. She opened her mouth to answer but he hurried on before she could speak. “To survive. To adjust. I could let you walk out the gates of my stronghold, give you your freedom, but you’d be dead within hours.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “I think I can take care of myself.”
Rowan almost laughed. For all her spirit, he strongly doubted her survival abilities.
“You’d fall off a mountain or be food for wild animals. Or you’d be worse than dead,”
he went on harshly. “Norse raiders come down from the Orkneys this time of year to collect slaves. They or some man from another clan will find you if you leave Cape Wrath. You’re a fine-looking, strongly built woman. Many a man would gladly get sons on you without asking your leave in the matter. And work you to death in his fields while he was at it or trade you for new cattle.”
She looked as shocked at his words as he felt. She at the implications, he at having managed to string so many words together at one time. He wasn’t done yet, for he knew this woman was going to take a powerful lot of convincing. He had plenty of practice with strong-willed women on his side. What he’d like just once would be a soft-willed, pliable female to do as he asked, not expect him to court her, leave him be when she wasn’t seeing to his needs and just generally make his lot easier.
“Or the fair folk we met out hunting yesterday may want you to serve them,” he went on. “That’s slavery as well. Worse slavery than among mortals, for fairies can drive you mad as well as drain the life out of you and make you love them while they’re doing it.”
Her thoughtful expression turned angry. “What are you talking about? We didn’t meet any fairies yesterday. There are no such thing as fairies.”
“Just because my spell cloaked you from their sight doesn’t mean they weren’t there.”
“Fairies are cute, little,
imaginary
, critters that flit around flowers in children’s books.”
Her derision hurt. She clearly thought him mad. “I’ve heard the Sassenach have little belief in the fair folk,” he told her. “But it is not wise to mock them so close to their own lands.”
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Susan Sizemore
“I’m not a Sassenach,” she answered. “I know it’s a Highland term for a Lowlander.
I’m not a Lowlander, I’m an American.”
Curiosity got the better of Rowan’s impatience. “You said you were from Lewis.”
“I did not.”
“You told me you were coming from there to Glasgow.”
“I was. The plane crashed.”
“Me, I think the fairies brought you.”
“They did not—I mean, there’s no such thing!”
He had no time to argue with her over that foolish notion. “If you’ll not trust yourself to see the reality of what’s happened to you, you’re a fool. But a fool I’m determined to wed whether I want to or no. Now, say the vows with me and all will be well.”
Maddie really wished he wasn’t standing so close to her. She wished he’d take his hands off her. He made her feel vulnerable and out of control. The sensation didn’t frighten her, not exactly, but it put her off balance as she fought to stay calm and reasonable and ignore the effects of his large, overwhelming presence. He had her wedged into a corner and she couldn’t see beyond him to the people she knew were in the church. He made her feel as if they were the only two people in the world, as though he were the only thing she needed to pay attention to. He concentrated solely on her and tried to force her to do the same with him.
He wanted her to think he was her only connection to this world, her only protection. That it had to be his way or not at all. The scary part was, she suspected he was right. He was the laird of this clan, a mighty warrior who had saved her life, if not from fairies at least from a strange wild animal. These people would turn her out if he told them to. Or kill her. Or let him rape her if she argued about marriage much longer.
Rosemary had claimed the omens were right as Maddie was pushed to the altar. They all obviously believed in omens and might not take kindly to her continuing to ignore them.
She was a stranger who had nowhere to go. She knew history but not how to survive in this primitive time. He offered her a place to stay, food and shelter, and the protection of his sword. These were not unimportant things to have in a time when a lone woman couldn’t walk into a store or hotel and plunk down a credit card to acquire all the necessities of life. Rowan Murray offered her a means of survival.
All she had to do was share this stranger’s bed and life.
“Sell myself into slavery to you,” she said.
The icy expression returned to his eyes. “Put it that way if you want.”
Rowan told himself that the woman didn’t know him, that she had no reason to trust that he’d be a kind husband. He told himself that he had no reason to trust himself to be a kind husband but her words still hurt. “I don’t want to wed either,” he growled at her. “But that is how it will be.”
40
A Kind of Magic
He ran his hand up her back until his fingers tangled in her hair. He pulled her head up and forced a swift, hard kiss on her. He was breathless when he was done. He hadn’t meant to kiss her but having given in to the urge, he knew that at least it was not fairy magic that made him want her.
“I’ve a bargain for you,” he told her. One he should have thought of sooner. He’d been so intent on obeying the White Lady’s prophecy after meeting Maddie on the road, he’d forgotten all sense of cunning.
Maddie’s head still spun from being kissed. The fact that it had gone on long enough and been intense enough for her to almost put her arms around him and let herself enjoy it left her very shaken. What would Toby think? Would Toby kiss like that? Would she ever get the chance to find out?
It took some effort to make herself respond to Rowan’s words rather than his actions. She had to think logically. She had to survive here long enough to get back to her time and find out just what she really wanted. Because despite his ability to kiss, Rowan Murray was not who she planned to spend the rest of her life with. “A bargain?”
“Aye. A home for you at Cape Wrath in return for a handfast wedding.”
Maddie looked thoughtfully at him for a moment. He didn’t think she realized that her expression was softer than it had been before he kissed her, more amenable. Rowan thought that perhaps he should have kissed her sooner. He would have kissed her and much more all last night if his cousin and sister hadn’t interfered. He cursed the wasted time and wondered how long he’d have to wait today before getting his bride into bed.
Then she said, “Handfast. Handfasting? I know about handfasting.”
He ran his thumb across her neatly dimpled chin. Did she have dimples anywhere else? “Do you?”
“It’s an old Scottish custom. A couple agrees to a temporary marriage, a trial marriage of a year and a day.”
“It will fulfill my needs,” he told her.
Surely she could do whatever it was that needed to be done to save his people in that amount of time. He could manage a year with the woman then have his freedom.
There need be no attachment, no lifelong commitment. Knowing they would be quit of each other in a short time would keep both their emotions safe from a relationship that neither wanted. Handfasting could make for a bonnie time in bed without any guilt or shame or recriminations for the couple once they’d separated. Rowan thought he’d like a year of simply pleasuring himself, of giving in to his own desires without worrying about responsibility for once, of having companionship without having to worry about becoming obsessively attached. Maddie took to his kisses like a lusty woman. The temptation to lose his cares in a year’s worth of sex with her was very strong. As long as he kept his lust in the bedroom and his mind on his people, all would be well.
Maddie considered his proposal and gave a sardonic chuckle at her own choice of terms. It seemed to her that she’d gone from no alternative to at least some control over 41
Susan Sizemore
her fate. A year was still a long time. She supposed that if she went through with this, she could use the time to figure out what had happened to her. She would find a way to go home, and long before this proffered year was up even if she promised him a year. A vow made under duress couldn’t be considered valid, could it?
Besides, it wasn’t as if she had much choice. It looked as if she were getting married. To someone just like Toby Coltrane.
“Be careful what you asked for,” she murmured. “You just might get it. All right,”
she added. “You’re on. A handfast marriage it is.”
“Fine.” He guided her back toward the altar. “Let’s get this over with.”
Maddie had to admit that marrying a
braw
, bare-kneed, kilt-wearing Highlander in a medieval stone church certainly sounded romantic. It wasn’t. It was terrifying, especially since Rowan sounded so matter-of-fact and looked so grim as he set about informing the priest of their decision.
As marriages went, even a forced one that she intended to walk out on, she found she regretted this inauspicious beginning.
42
A Kind of Magic
After the ceremony came a great deal of kissing. It seemed as if everyone in the Murray clan had one for her, either a kiss on the cheek or a touch on the lips. The kisses were often accompanied by a swift hug. Maddie felt engulfed, surrounded, very nearly drowned in the welcome of these burly men and hale women.
The only kiss that lacked any sincerity came from her bridegroom. When she’d still been resisting the marriage Rowan had kissed her in a way that left her breathless and with the blood racing in her veins. She hadn’t liked it but that kiss had certainly been more interesting than the chaste peck on the lips she received the moment she promised to spend the next year as Mrs. Murray. It was though he didn’t give a damn about her once he’d gotten his way.
“What’s up with you?” she’d asked, but had gotten no answer but a grim-faced glare.
Rowan backed away while Maddie was showered with boisterous greetings. He watched in a state of shock while she was kissed and hugged by the elders. Children presented her with flowers and shy smiles. Her arms were full of fresh-picked wildflowers by the time she made her way through the crowd to the church door. She answered those smiles with lively ones of her own. For a few moments she looked like a happy bride with bright eyes, her pale, freckled skin flushed, her wild shining hair crowned with blossoms.
Rowan found her beautiful and it terrified him.
Rowan was at the doorway before Maddie. He took her arm before she could step through into the courtyard. Being physically connected to him again made her feel somewhat less lost in the crowd. This was a disturbing realization, one she pondered without trying to pull away as they stepped into daylight.
Once outside the church Rowan didn’t know what to expect. Perhaps he’d secretly hoped for some burst of magic that would make the Murrays the most powerful clan in the Highlands upon saying his wedding vows. Nothing happened, of course. It had taken a great deal of effort to get his way with the unwilling woman. His every thought had been on bending her to his will.
Now that he had her, he felt as if he’d walked into a trap.
She looked at him as though the very same thought was on her mind.
He had made the trap and now they were both caught in it.
Maddie stood in the center of the courtyard at Rowan’s side as the sun came out from behind a bank of clouds to light up the hall and outbuildings. She looked around.
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Susan Sizemore
Inside she felt as bleak and desolate as the rugged Scottish mountains at her back. She was afraid, though she hated to acknowledge the fact. Everything was out of control.
No, she corrected herself, as her usual practicality struggled to assert itself. She was alive. She’d made a devil’s bargain with the man beside her. Having made it, she would survive. She’d escape.
She made a critical visual inspection of the gray stone defensive walls, the square tower at the top of the cliff and the buildings below it. She felt trapped here, but time and broken laws of nature were her main enemy. This fortress was also her haven in a hostile world as long as she did what Rowan Murray wanted. She resented that but knew he was also her guardian. She didn’t like having to depend on anyone. She didn’t like being blackmailed.
She said, “The place could use some work.”
Rowan’s habitual frown deepened. “Aye,” he said grudgingly.
“So could you.” Rowan didn’t answer this comment. “What’s next?” Maddie asked him after they’d stood in silence in the sunlight for a while.
While he regarded her in hostile silence, the inhabitants of Cape Wrath finished filing out of the little church. Some of the people stood in the courtyard and watched them. Most of the Murrays, having celebrated the wedding reception before the actual nuptials, went about their own business.
After an uncomfortable silence while under his unfriendly gaze, Maddie decided that her nominal husband wasn’t going to answer her question. So she tugged her hand away from Rowan’s grasp and began to walk toward the tower. The ladder was propped against the outer wall, the heavy door was open. The place didn’t look inviting but it seemed better to explore the fortress than linger in the warm sunlight with the taciturn man. It bothered her that though she disliked the way he looked at her, her other senses reacted disturbingly to his touch.
Rowan knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to take his bride to bed. That was the trap. He fought the urge with all his might.
He would not be like his father.
He would make a specific time and place for being with his woman and never deviate from a set routine.
So he told himself that it was midmorning, hardly a seemly time to retire to his bedchamber, even if it was his wedding day. Not even Rosemary would complain if he swept Maddie up in his arms and carried her off to have his fill of lovemaking. No one would complain but everyone would know that he’d shirked his responsibilities for the sake of his own pleasure. Just as his father had done with his fairy wife. Rowan had vowed to never put his own desires ahead of the needs of his people. His clan might forgive him for indulging himself for one day but he would not forgive himself.