Medieval Highlands 01 - Highland Vengeance (23 page)

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Authors: K. E. Saxon

Tags: #Romance

BOOK: Medieval Highlands 01 - Highland Vengeance
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Daniel turned and sat back down upon his stool. He rested his arms on his knees and clasped his hands together, lowering his head in thought. After a moment, he looked up at his father-in-law and stated, “As I said, ‘tis too late. Petition for the annulment and we’ll have an end to it.”

“Will you at least allow me to wait a moon to send the petition?

Because Daniel felt ‘twas only a formality and the break had already occurred, he agreed to Laird Donald’s request. After summoning a maid to gather Maryn’s belongings for Laird Donald to take back with him, Daniel exited the hall and headed for the training field. He had a dire need of working out his anguish with physical force.

*

“‘Tis time for our discussion, Jesslyn,” Daniel said later that day after being granted entrance into her cottage. “If Alleck is here, then we shall need to find somewhere to speak in privy.”

“My son is at his friend, Niall’s house. We are alone.” Her face was somber as she turned and settled on a stool by the hearth.

Daniel followed suit.

“Why?” was all he said. His heart was not truly into an argument with anyone else he cared about, but he wanted to understand what had been in Jesslyn’s head two days past when she’d given him that exuberant, yet not very exciting, kiss.

Her shoulders slumped. On a sigh, she said, “Curiosity. Desperation. Irritation. A bit of jealousy, I suppose. I’m sure there are a few other less obvious reasons behind my rash behavior, but I have yet to learn them.”

Daniel understood the curiosity part—he’d been vaguely curious to find out what kissing Jesslyn would be like for quite a while. Of course, that was prior to his marriage to Maryn.
Desperation.
“Why were you feeling desperate?” he asked, keeping his tone gentle.

She ran her palms over her lap. “I must wed. We both know that. ‘Twas simply easier to imagine wedding you, my friend, who understands me and my feelings for Graeme, than to imagine being wed to some stranger.” When Daniel saw the mist in her eye before she blinked it away, his heart broke for her. It broke even more when he saw the muscles in her throat constrict as she swallowed before continuing, “You know the man will want me to love him, Daniel. Do I lie and pretend that I do, or do I tell the truth and have a bitter marriage?”

Daniel had not thought of that. And even if he had thought of that when he’d first conceived of this plan, he would not have thought it that important. Now he understood all too well how caustically painful unrequited love could be. “You will not be forced to marry any man you do not wish to marry, I give you my oath. And you must be honest with these men from the start; they must accept the terms before a betrothal is agreed upon, for it is not my wish that you have a bitter marriage, either.” Leaning forward, he took her hands in his. “But ‘tis plain now that I cannot give you the time I promised to you two days past and I do want you to consider the men I’ve chosen for you. Will you do that?”

Sighing, she nodded her head. “Aye, I’ll do that.”

Feeling confident in his and his grandmother’s choices, he said, “A moon should be sufficient time to decide.” Relaxing back on his stool, Daniel crossed his arms over his chest and studied his friend for a moment. “I know that your life has been hard, has held little joy, since Graeme’s death. I wish I could bring him back for you. Hell, I wish I could bring him back for
me
, for he was a true and good friend, a brave warrior.”

A tear escaped the corner of her eye and trailed down her cheek. “Aye, I miss him so much. And so does Alleck, though he will not speak of it, fearing he’ll make me weep.”

Daniel reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. After a moment, he turned the subject in hopes it would lessen her sorrow. “You said you kissed me out of jealousy as well. What did you mean? You and I are not in love with each other, how can you be jealous?”

She sniffled and brushed at the tears under her eyes. “I was not jealous in the way you mean. Nay, ‘twas more a jealousy of your wife’s circumstances, I think. I was a bit resentful that she had so easily acquired the life I’d been promised, yet she remained so unthankful for her good fortune. I thought that if she did not want you, mayhap you and I might try again.” She laughed through her tears. “Then I attacked you. ‘Twas foolish of me, I know.” Scrunching up her nose, she gave him a wet, but wry smile and shook her head. “‘Twas not very good, in any case, was it?”

Daniel found his first laugh in days. “Nay, ‘twas not. Let us never try that again.”

“You shall receive no argument from me.”

Daniel tweaked her nose. “Now you’re just being rude.”

*

Feeling better about his relationship with Jesslyn after spending some time with her, but still feeling raw, beaten, heartsore, and lonely, because of his break with Maryn, Daniel spent the next five days in a hell of his own making. He slept and ate little but filled his days with physically challenging activities that helped him keep his thoughts of Maryn under some control. Tho’ naught he did, it seemed, could ease the constant ache in his heart. The fifth night he gave in to his exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep. He dreamed of Maryn, her arms open and entreating him to come to her. She was wearing the gossamer silk chemise he’d come to adore.

CHAPTER 8

Daniel lost the battle between his heart and his pride the next morn. No longer able to keep himself from retrieving his bride, especially after the enticing dream he’d had of her the night before, he left for the Donald holding at dawn.

In an odd way, over the past days, his sore heart had helped him to view the events leading up to her departure with new eyes. He could now understand her unwillingness to believe him. After all, they
had
only been wed a sennight, and she
had
caught him in the arms of the woman he’d sworn was only a friend, not a lover. And afterward, he’d refused to forsake his friend, thus seemingly proving that his declarations of innocence had been false. If the roles had been reversed, he would have done more than request an annulment; he would have killed the man who dared touch her.

And seeing things from her perspective had also made it easier for him to work through the initial resentment he’d felt upon her abrupt departure. Now, all that was left inside him was an empty ache which only his bride could allay. So he must convince her to give him, and their marriage, one more chance, and he would not mishandle it this time.

Daniel dismounted from his stallion, his mind on the coming confrontation with his father-in-law and Maryn. A sound came from the doorway of the Donald keep and he turned toward it. His heart did a little
zing!
in his chest. There she was, the living embodiment of his erotic fantasies, his deepest wishes, his most ardent dreams. A devilish plan took form in his mind. With a quick turn back to the stableman, he stayed him with a hand on his arm. “Hold the bay steady. I shall return shortly,” he murmured before racing toward the keep.

*

Maryn descended the steps leading into the courtyard, despondency weighting her mind and heart. Though she’d had little hope of a reconciliation with her husband, there had been enough of a spark to keep her watchful for the first days of her voluntary exile. But her father’s return from the Maclean holding with a declaration from Daniel that he would not stand in her way if she wished to obtain an annulment had quashed most of her hopes. And now, in the seventh day of her exile with no sign of her husband, the final ember died. A forlorn sigh escaped her lungs. He and Jesslyn were no doubt making plans to wed.

Before she realized what was happening, two vise-like hands grabbed her by the waist and lifted her off her feet.

“Papa!”
Maryn screamed, her vision blurred into a montage of stone, sky and earth as she was slung over a shoulder, like a sack of turnips. She heard a very familiar chuckle and her blood boiled. Not one word from him for a sennight, and now, instead of soft words and kisses, he behaves like a cur?

“Set me down!” she said, trying to wriggle her way free.

But his grip held firm, and he had the temerity to laugh even louder!

Pounding her fists into his back, she bellowed, “Just where do you think you take me, Daniel MacLaurin!
Papa!
Help!
Papa!

With a forceful bounce, he positioned her more securely on his shoulder and tightened his hold.

She elbowed him in the kidney. He did not even flinch. Lord! What was he made of, granite? Now her elbow tingled and ached. She tried to rub it, but she could not reach it in the position he had her in. “Put me down, you boorish buffoon!” Her throat ached too, and that was his fault as well.

He gave her a sharp slap to her behind, but said naught.

She sucked in a breath. “You…you…argh!” she sputtered, unable to think of a rude enough epithet.

His roar of laughter was pure male. With a swift turn of his head, he kissed her abused rump.

A thrill ran through her at the show of affection and she calmed. A sense of wonder filled her as, all at once, she realized he wasn’t here to cause trouble, but to take her home! Enjoying herself now, she said, “Laugh now, but you’d best sleep with your eyes open this night!”

He tossed her over the saddle of his horse.

The breath blasted from Maryn’s lungs. She wheezed and coughed.

She saw him grin before he took the reins from the stableman.

She pierced him with a killing glare.

He cocked a brow at her. Then, whistling a merry tune, he walked them out through the fortress gate.

“If you do not allow me to straighten up right now, I shall surely be sick all over your boots,” she told him in a strained voice.

No response.

Shrugging at her husband’s continued silence, Maryn gazed at his profile, her heart thrilling at the notion that he’d actually come for her. But what of the widow?

A nagging suspicion that something was not quite right with that scene in the tower had continued to intrude into her thoughts these past days, but fearing it was only wishful thinking, she’d ignored it.

Now, she allowed herself to consider it. She went through the scene in her mind once more. Jesslyn had been pressing against Daniel, and he’d had his hands on Jesslyn’s shoulders—not around her—as he did when he kissed Maryn. And it was
Jesslyn’s
tongue that had been invading
Daniel’s
mouth. Maryn had not even known ‘twas permissible for a woman to kiss a man in that way, but it certainly indicated that Jesslyn was the aggressor in the encounter, just as Daniel had said. Hope, like the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, tickled the corners of her heart once more and, this time, she allowed it to unfurl.

A rabbit shot past them just then. The horse reared, dumping Maryn off of the beast and onto her backside. It knocked the wind out of her for the second time in half an hour. She lay prone on her back, struggling to take air into her lungs and wishing that dastard rabbit to perdition.

“Maryn!” Daniel shouted in alarm as he led the stallion away from his bride’s splayed form, fearing its hooves might trample her. Falling to his knees, he said, “Are you hurt?” and ran his hands over her form to examine her for injuries.

“Nay, nay. Worry not,” she replied a bit breathlessly.

In spite of her assurance, Daniel continued his inspection a moment longer. When he was confident that she was unharmed from the fall, he helped her to her feet. Still shaken, he mounted his stallion before leaning down and bringing Maryn up to settle in front of him.

He rested his arm under her soft bosom then as he repositioned her on his lap. She felt so good in his arms: As if an integral part of him had been missing, but was now returned.

She squirmed in an attempt to resettle herself into a more comfortable position. “The pommel is poking into my bottom.”

Daniel bit back a laugh. Gritting his teeth, he swallowed a groan of pure ecstasy as she squirmed on his rigid manhood. The sweet torture was almost more than he could bear, and the thought of having her soft and willing under him was a dream he desperately wanted to realize. God’s truth, he hoped that it would be soon. For he seemed to be perpetually ready to mate with her. And now, his mind was filled once more with images of her coming apart in his arms as he planted his seed so deep inside her that she would grow round with his babe.

A sheen of sweat broke out on his brow. Frustrated and a bit angry with himself for his inability to better control his responses to her, he roughly swiped at the moisture and forcefully turned his mind to more mundane thoughts, such as the number of links in his chain mail. He mentally began to count them.

But the erotic images returned in a galvanic surge when the wind whipped a silken tendril of her bronze tresses across his face and a whisper of honeysuckle drifted around him. Daniel caught the soft strands and smoothed them back under the hood of her cloak, envisioning a time when her floral-scented locks would drift over his chest, his stomach, and, oh God, yes, his thighs. Then, with a hand that trembled ever so slightly, he trailed his thumb over her plump lower lip.

She tensed and looked up at him. In a soft voice, she asked, “Why did you come for me, Daniel?”

He touched his fingers to her cheek. “I came for you because you are my bride and you belong to me. What is mine, I keep,” he said softly, simply.

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