Medieval Highlands 01 - Highland Vengeance (29 page)

At first only attuned to the erotic image of his wife gracefully walking toward him, nude but for the girdle, he did not see the ring. Then the ruby caught the firelight’s glow as she moved towards him and sent a red beam across the floor. Daniel held his breath. Jesslyn must have given her the jewel when they’d spoken earlier. And, God be praised, it seemed she was not angered, else she would surely not be wearing it now.

She placed her knee on the bed and leaned toward him and Daniel settled his hands on her hips, drawing her even closer. “You look beautiful in my mother’s jewels, my love,” he said with admiration and tenderness, and then he gave her a soft kiss.

Those were the last coherent words spoken between them that eve.

*

The next fortnight flew by as Maryn acclimated herself to her new duties and got cart-loads of advice from Lady Maclean—and surprisingly, Jesslyn as well.

The newlyweds could not keep their hands off of each other. Once, during a rather long and heated public display of affection, they heard a fellow clansman call out for them to find a bedchamber. Laughing, they’d sheepishly broken the embrace. But they did not mind being the cause of others’ mirth; it did not spoil their humor, or their passion. They were deliriously in love.

They hated each other intensely. They’d had their first full-blown argument since their official wedding night and they had now not spoken to each other for nearly two days.

“Maryn,” Lady Maclean lectured from her perch on the edge of the bed, “you cannot seriously be contemplating tossing all of Daniel’s clothing out the window and into the lower bailey. ‘Tis just not done. A young wife should instead reason, cajole, even entice, her husband over to her point of view.”

Maryn did not look up from her mission. She continued slamming open chests and dragging out every item of Daniel’s clothing she came across before hurling them over her shoulder onto the floor. “I’m not in the mood to reason, cajole, or entice,” she said. “I’m in the mood to destroy, to wreak havoc, to tumble his mighty arrogance into rubble!” Daniel had stolen her dirk and her slingshot and refused to return them.

“Did you not give him your vow that you would never again leave this fortress without proper escort?”

Maryn looked up, eyes wide with wrath. “Nay, I did
not
! The vow I gave him was that I would never again travel off of this
holding
without proper escort.” With furious vigor she returned to her task. “Grandmother Maclean, know you well that I have hunted in that wood since I was no more than a wee bairn; ‘tis as familiar to me as the back of my own hand!”
And ‘tis NOT infested with wild boars.
With a huff, Maryn heaved yet another of Daniel’s neatly folded shirts onto the floor. Nor was it habited by angry wolves, as her obstinate husband seemed fixed upon believing.
The man is impossible!

When she’d been through every one of his chests and had kicked the clothing into a large heap, she paused, lungs blowing, to admire her handiwork. Swiping a stray tendril of hair off of her damp forehead with the back of her hand, she said, “Besides, he should be reasoning with
me
, cajoling
me
, enticing
me
into forgiving
him
for his obstinate, pig-headed, opinionated, inflexible, unyielding, rude, and obnoxious attitude!” She was winded, but exhilarated, by the time she finished her diatribe.

“Now, now, you must try to calm yourself, my dear,” the older woman soothed. “Daniel is only concerned for your welfare. Try to see things through his eyes,” she pleaded. “He lost the only family he knew to violence when he was a young lad. And now that he’s acquired a new one, he fears its loss.” She picked up one of Daniel’s now-quite-rumpled shirts from the pile near her foot and held it in her lap. “I know his dictates seem overbearing, but they are not given out of a desire to control you. They are given in an effort to keep you close and safe from harm.”

Maryn shrugged, a bit chastened, as she did see the truth in the older woman’s words. “If it is as you say, that he is only acting out of an overzealous need to keep me safe, then why did he take my weapons from me?” she murmured, her gaze still blindly fixed upon the mess she’d made. “Cannot he see that he’s left me totally defenseless?” Frustration and resentment bubbled up from deep inside her once again and she threw her arms in the air. “It makes no sense!
He
makes no sense.”

Maryn bent and began carefully folding and putting away Daniel’s clothing, the urge to destroy assuaged by the earlier frenzied flurry of flying garments.

“He is a man,” Lady Maclean explained matter-of-factly. “His mind works in ways too mysterious for a mortal woman to ken.” She shrugged. “Mayhap he thinks the lack of weapons will keep you inside the walls of the keep.”

Maryn jerked her head up, righteous indignation making her stomach constrict. “Hah! I wager that
is
the narrow track his stubborn arrogance has taken him down! I suppose he believes that I”—she pointed at her chest with her index finger—“being a mere woman, could never conceive of a way to acquire more weapons.” She whirled around with her hands on her hips and stormed across the chamber to gaze, unseeing, out the window. “I now see how his mind works: He believed I’d docilely follow his orders—allow him to make the keep my prison!”

“Maryn, my dear, Daniel loves you; he wants you to be content, to find joy in your union with him. I do not believe he truly wants to keep you prisoner, as you seem determined to believe,” Lady Maclean said after a moment.

Maryn’s shoulders slumped. Gritting her teeth and swallowing hard, she kept the mist in her eyes from turning into pools. Because her husband had been so cold, so distant, since storming out this day past, she had allowed her hurt pride to drown out reason and had, thus far, refrained from attempting to gain an audience with him. And now, what had begun between them as a heated argument had become a cold stalemate. But Lady Maclean’s words had cut through that protective shell of pride she’d cloaked herself in and, after a moment more of silent debate, she whirled and faced the older woman. “I do believe ‘tis time to run my arrogant husband to ground,” she said spiritedly, a determined gleam in her amber eyes.

*

Daniel eyed Fia as he passed her stall. She’d been irritable and unwieldy since she’d returned from the Donald holding—and even more so since she’d witnessed his ire at her mistress this day past. In fact, earlier this morn, when the stableman had her out of her stall and Daniel had passed by her, she’d nearly kicked him in the shin. “Keep those devilkin teeth on your side of the gate, my fine lass,” he said warily.

To the stableman, he said, “I’ll take care of my bay,” before continuing down the line of stalls until he reached the stallion’s enclosure. He led the animal in and softly began to speak to the high-strung beast as he unhooked the halter from its head, then brought the saddle down and away from its back.

He’d just now returned from a quest to ease his mind. Because, even after questioning Derek about the veracity of Maryn’s assertion that the wood was safe, and hearing the man’s defense of her claims, he’d continued to worry. So, he’d decided the only—and best—way to set his mind at ease was to explore the surrounding forest himself, as his previous trek into it on the day of his wife’s flight to her father’s holding had yielded little knowledge of its occupants. Once there, he’d been relieved to find that the wood abounded in small game, but was, for the most part, free of creatures dangerous to his wife. He’d encountered only one boar track and had seen no hint of wolves residing there.

“Well, it seems, ‘tis high time I hunt down my angry wife and negotiate a truce,” he mumbled to himself. Frowning, he brooded once more on the tumultuous scene that had played out between himself and Maryn this day past. When he’d discovered that she’d left the keep again without escort, he’d been near out of his mind to find her—had only just climbed on his stallion’s back, ready to ride out and search for her, when she’d come prancing back into the courtyard on her mare, hectic color high on her cheeks and six rabbits tied to her saddle.

He’d been too frightened, too angered by her lack of fidelity to her word, to act rationally and had only barely had the will to hold his tongue long enough to haul her off her horse and up to their bedchamber—which, with a sharp ache in his chest, he now recalled she’d believed he was doing in order to have an afternoon tryst with her—before blasting her with the full force of his wrath. The crushed look on her face when he’d done so had told him he’d hurt her badly, but he’d not softened. And, much to her credit, she’d quickly recovered and returned his wrath in like measure.

His frown now turned into a sad smile, in spite of the worry she’d caused him, and he shook his head, for the unholy row that had followed had surely shaken the rafters from their moorings. Even now, his throat ached from the strain he’d put it through.

And when he could stand not one more of her angry excuses, he’d taken her dirk and slingshot and prohibited any further adventures outside the walls without his knowledge, permission, and escort. Then he’d stormed out of the room in a high fury.

Sighing, he scrubbed his sleeve over his sweaty brow. And he’d slept in the tower chamber
again
. Lord, he’d truly believed he’d quit that place for good a fortnight ago. Well, if he had anything to say about it—and by God he did—he’d be sleeping in his wife’s arms this night, and for evermore.

He’d been a fool to prolong their silent battle of wills, but his ire had not sufficiently eased before now to attempt another dialogue with her. He’d needed to complete his survey of the forest first. And, tho’ he was still angered by her vehement defense of her actions—she actually believed that her pledge had not included going to the woods unescorted!—it was now time to run his frighteningly reckless wife to ground.

*

They met on the stairs leading to their bedchamber. They both spoke at once.

“—We need to talk,” he said.

“—I’m glad I found you,” she said.

“—Pardon?”

“—What?”

The smile Daniel gave her held both frustration and amusement as he silently pointed in the direction of their bedchamber. She thrilled when he grabbed hold of her hips in the next instant and turned her around, nudging her along with a gentle push.

Maryn entered the room and strolled over to the hearth before turning to face her husband, who was leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest and doing a slow perusal of her. She trembled. His eyes, like hot embers, singed her skin as they skimmed her body, resting first on her breasts, and then slowly gliding down to settle on the junction of her thighs.

‘Twas an effort, but she managed to keep from looking down, knowing he could see naught through her layers of clothing.
Lord, but does he not have the ability to make me melt into a puddle in less than an instant?

“I’ve missed you,” he said at last. “I was a fool to leave you alone in our bed last night—‘twill not happen again.”

Her heart thudded a sad refrain. “I missed you, too. I miss
us
.” Cocking her head to the side, she asked, “Why stand you so far away?”

Her husband’s smile was pained. “I stand here so that I am unable to touch that delectable body of yours.”

A thrill ran down Maryn’s spine. She returned his smile.

He sighed and scrubbed his palm over the back of his neck. “I surveyed the forest today,” he said, “and you’ll be pleased to learn that I found it to be much as you described.”

She sent him a smug smile as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Aye?”

Rolling his eyes, he grinned and shook his head. With a shrug, he said, “I would still prefer that you not go there alone, that you allow me or one of the guards to escort you, but I’ll not demand it of you—”

Maryn squealed and bounced up and down.

“—
if
you will at least promise to tell me your plans prior to your departure.”

Her nod was exuberant, her eyes widened with glee. “Does this mean you’ll return my dirk and slingshot?”

He cocked one eyebrow, his smile knowing and dark. “Aye…but for a price.”

Maryn understood immediately the type of price he demanded and it made her blood rush. And with the passion-greased cogs in her mind whirring ‘round, she conceived of a wicked form of payment to give him. It caused a ripple of adventure to travel up her spine.

With slow, sultry movements, she lifted her hands and untied the strings of her bodice. “I’m very warm—are you not warm?” she asked in a breathless voice. Once loosened, the heavy gown slipped easily down her body to puddle at her feet. “I believe I shall take off a few things and relax awhile before supper.”

The stunned look on his countenance told her that she’d adeptly taken the sexual upper hand from him and when she saw his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed before his head wobbled in agreement, ‘twas all she could do to hold back a crow of victory.

Now, with as provocative a smile as she could offer playing on her lips, she fondled the ties to her chemise a long moment before finally releasing them. Then, slowly lowering the garment, she let it slide off of her shoulders to snag on the tips of her upturned breasts. Satisfied with her husband’s fervid stare, she shrugged her shoulders. The linen material left its perch and slipped down to her waist.