ROMANCE: MY ALIEN KING: Scifi Alien Invasion Abduction Contemporary Romance (Paranormal Fantasy BBW Alien Contact Anthologies & Collections Book 1) (72 page)

“Th’Laird is down there by th’camp! He has sent for ye. I advise that ye hurry up if y’want to see him again!” The man said in a grim tone.

If I want to see him again?
She could feel something constrict around her heart.
Did something happen to him while I was out?
The thought horrified her more than anything else she had ever experienced before. “Take me to him, then!
Please
!” She added the last word as a precaution, so as not to provoke any ire the man may have had against her.

Luckily, he appeared perfectly disinterested, and he helped her down as best as he could. By the time they’ve arrived to the encampment, there was a significant ruckus, and every single man was gathered around something she could not quite make out.

“Ye insult me again and again, and then ye have th’gall tae lay with th’English whore before our very eyes! Without making any effort tae hide th’sounds ye made! Is there nae shame tae ye, lad?” A man’s voice could be heard from the center of the ruckus.

“What can I say, Dougal? When I lay with a woman, I dae it earnest! When’s th’last time ye’ve laid with a lass, huh?” Angus talked back to the older man, obviously doing his best to anger him as much as possible.

“Is this the man ye all want for yer laird? This poor excuse for a leader who cannae command his own crotch, let alone his men! I know what my answer’d be!” Dougal spoke more to the people than to Angus. From the men’s expressions, it appeared that he was getting to most of them. They were displeased by their Laird’s actions, and weren’t afraid to show it.

“Talk to
me
when ye speak, Dougal, not tae them! This is between th’two of us, not everyone else’s matter!”

“I disagree! Th’actions of the Laird concern everyone below th’Laird, and yers have been deplorable!” He turned back toward Angus before speaking again. “Ye kill one of yer own over an English
whore
, insult yer most trusted advisor when he comes to
advise
, and then ye carry yerself in a completely shameless manner! I call ye out, Angus MacDonnel! I call ye out as th’disappointment that ye are!” Dougal spouted again.

Once Elizabeth had gotten close enough to see what was going on, Angus gave her a knowing stare, before turning back toward the older man and speaking again. “Ye call
me
out, Dougal? Nae, I call
ye
out! Face me in combat right here and now, and prove tae me and everyone else that ye are th’better man!” Everyone present roared like a wild beast in response.

“So it shall be, my
Laird
.” The way he said the word seethed with contempt, but the crowd roared even louder regardless.

Are they… are they going to kill each other?
Elizabeth tried to step inside the circle, but the man who had led her there stopped her by grabbing her shoulder.

“This isnae your place tae interfere, lass,” he said, and she knew that she had no way of helping her man. This was their country, their way, and whatever she did then could only lead to more trouble. All she could do was observe.
And pray.

In the following moments, everything got deathly quiet as the circle expanded. Staring into each other’s eyes, the two men grasped their claymores, took on a fighting stance, and proceeded to circle one another like a pair of wild beasts. The resentment could be felt even from Elizabeth’s position, and she couldn’t imagine the way it felt for the two of them. Then, the older man attacked.

It all happened in an eye-blink. With the speed of someone half his age, Dougal pounced directly toward Angus. Then, just as he was about to strike him head-on, he abruptly changed direction, leapt to his side, and used the force of his charge to direct an even more powerful swing toward Angus’s body. Much to his detriment, Angus had seemingly expected the maneuver, and his own claymore was imposed right in the middle of Dougal’s belly when he made his attack. With a scream, the older man impaled himself on the blade, gritted his teeth, and let go of his own sword.

“I’ve watched ye fight a hundred times, Dougal. Ever since I was a wee lad,” Angus said, a moment before he turned his blade around while it was still in his opponent’s insides.

Blood running out of his mouth, Dougal appeared as if he was about to say something, but instead he merely coughed. Like a rag doll, his body collapsed a moment later. Angus let it fall down along with his weapon.

“Is there anyone else who shares this man’s opinion?” He shouted toward the crown. No one answered. “Then the matter is settled,” he concluded as he crouched, and pulled the claymore out of Dougal’s lifeless body. Confidently, he strode out of the circle, and the men let him pass.

“Now, prepare yerselves for a right long march! We’ve wasted enough time already! I have a wedding tae plan out!” He gazed into Elizabeth’s eyes again as he finished his sentence.

At a loss for words, all she could do was blush.

THE END

London, England, Ashdown manor

Autumn, 1814, early morning

“Great news, Lillian!” A woman’s voice woke the girl a moment before her bedroom doors slammed open.

“M—Mother?” She opened an eye, keeping her cover over the lower half of her face, just the way she was taught.
It is unladylike to let anyone see your visage before you are presentable,
the same voice echoed inside her head.

“They told me it was impossible! They said no one would touch us anymore, but I knew! I
knew
!” Her mother practically danced across the room as she made her way toward Lillian’s bed. The woman was nearing thirty-two, but was still healthy and beautiful. Her complexion was flawless, yet the gold of her hair was visibly mixed with silver, and the angles of her mouth showed hints of lines. She wore a fashionable, purple dress, and did it with an impeccable sense of style. Something was in her left hand.
An opened letter?

Slowly and gracefully, Lillian straightened herself into a sitting position. Most of her was still under the cover. “Mother… would you care to explain just what is going on?” she finally said.

“Why, you are getting married, of course, dear! To a young man of very high birth, to boot! Congratulations!” Her mother sat next to her, embracing her with both arms.

Married?
Lillian blushed with exhilaration. She started raising her own hands to embrace her mother back. Just as she was about to actually do so, though, the woman abruptly stood up.

“Lillian! Have you already forgotten what I had told you about that cover? Oh, woe is me! Surely, the Ashdown line will expire if my own daughter cannot do as little as display
proper
bedside manner!” She placed the back of her hand on her forehead, posing dramatically as she spoke.

Lillian thought about voicing a protest, but it would most certainly do no good. “I am sorry, Mother,” she said, all while lifting the sheet back over herself.

“As you should be, Lillian. It is for your own good, you know! Your future husband will not be
half
as understanding as I am about these things, and you do know how men are.”

Actually, I do not, mother.
Lady Claudia Ashdown was so protective of her daughter that she had barely let her see a boy, let alone a man. Speaking to one was out of the question, let alone anything else that might allow her to learn.
What little I know comes entirely from what you have told me.

Paying no heed to her daughter’s silence, the Lady Ashdown kept talking. “A man is never satisfied with anything, despite how much you might try to meet his fancies. Yet, despite this, a man is—“

“Absolutely necessary,” the two of them spoke in unison. Still trying to keep a stern expression on her face, Lady Claudia could not help but reveal a hint of a smile in her eyes.

“Care to grace me with the identity of my betrothed, then?” Lillian asked politely.

“Oh, aren’t we impatient! Fine, I will tell, even though I
did
want to play the guessing game with you for a little while longer. Sadly, I simply cannot force myself into tormenting you like that! You are to be married to Lord Martin Stanbury, the Lord bless him and his father!”

H—Him?
Lillian’s expression said more than her words ever could. She took a long yet discreet breath, and hoped that her mother would not notice. As usual, no detail was ever beneath that woman’s attention.

“Am I to understand that you are displeased with the notion, Lillian?” Lady Claudia’s icy blue eyes froze Lillian in place. Although she had a similar-looking pair herself, she never had learned to use them in such a manner.

Lillian took a moment to think about what she was about to say. She knew that she had to yield before her mother’s wishes, but this time she found it difficult to do. 
This is my life,
she told herself.
If I am to do this for the sake of the family, I deserve to know more.

“But he is a rogue! Even I have heard of the things he did! Things he still does!” Lillian’s cheeks blushed somewhat as she voiced her protests. She knew that they would not avail her, but perhaps they would help loosen her mother’s tongue.

“You have, now, have you? I do wonder who you could have heard those venomous rumors from. Ah, but it matters not. In this case, they appear to be factually correct,” her mother ruminated while she still stood above Lillian’s bed.

“So, you’ve heard of his despicable habits? And you will let me marry that—that
scoundrel
? For goodness’s sake, Mother,
why
? Am I not a good daughter to you?” Lillian was so invested in her speech that she almost let go of her cover again.
Almost.

“Lillian! You are
the best
daughter a mother could possibly ask for!” Lady Claudia said, putting her hands around her daughter while still standing. Doing so in a corset was not easy, but she made it seem that way. “And it is exactly for that reason that I have arranged this marriage in the first place. I am worried about your future, dearest! You know of our position as well as I do. Without a husband, we—
you
will lose everything! Without an heir, the family name will die out! Surely you understand your importance in all of this!” She stared into her daughter’s eyes again after she ended her embrace.

“And whose fault is that?” Lillian asked coldly.

The sharp slap that rang out was answer enough. As the numbness started to spread over her cheek, Lillian covered it with the palm of her hand. The Lady Ashdown turned away from her daughter, and darkened the room by standing in front of the window.

“Mother! I…” She wanted to say something that would undo what she had blurted out a moment ago, but nothing good enough came to mind. Instead, she turned toward the mirror, and used the fact that she was unobserved to check the damage.

The lean beauty of alabaster skin that stared back at her was the picture of splendor, despite the rather unsightly red spot on her cheek. Lean, straight limbs that radiated grace extended from a thin yet shapely torso. And then there was her face: not unlike that of a porcelain doll (even without the make-up), yet visibly alive and sensual. Her nose was thin and straight, her lips full and red, and her eyes a piercing blue. Crowning her was a full head of long, golden hair that curled at the ends. Yet the red was still on her cheek, and it offended her with its presence.

“Do you enjoy hurting your mother, Lillian? Do you take pleasure in wrapping your hands around my heart, only to plunge your nails deep inside?” Lady Ashdown spoke, still with her back turned. Lillian’s stomach tightened at the words, despite the fact that she was not wearing her corset yet.

“Mother, I am sorry. I have indeed crossed my boundaries, and for that I apologize,” Lillian replied.

“You say you are sorry, yes. Yet your actions speak otherwise. Why else would you, after all the two of us have been through, pour salt on your mother’s old wound? Have you already forgotten how much of a laughingstock the family name has become?” Lady Ashdown turned around, letting her daughter see her face. She was crying, and twin streams of black ran down her cheeks.

“Of course not,” Lillian said as her attention involuntarily drifted toward her own thoughts. She could clearly recall the way everyone talked, both to and about her. Her peers ascribed her practically no value at all. “We are seen as little more than plebes playing at being highborn.”

“And why is that so, Lillian? Can you tell me that?”

“Because we have no money anymore, mother.”

“Indeed. But you are skimming around the subject, dear. Look around you! See your home for what it is and what it should be. Imagine what it
could be
again! Then, press the sides of that little head and tell me why, as the residents of an opulent manor such as this one, we are deprived of something as lowly as
currency
. Or better yet, don’t! I will do it for you, like I do most everything else! We are in this mess because we do not have a man of the house!” Her mother seemed to have stopped crying, although her make-up still trickled down her cheeks a little bit.

Lillian had wanted to keep her mouth shut. Yet her mother’s insinuations toward her lack of intelligence drove her to say what she did not want. “My answer will not change, mother, regardless of the angle you try to spin your story.
Whose
fault is it that we do not have a man of the house?”

At first, Lady Ashdown did not say anything. She merely bit the inside of her lip, staring into her daughter’s eyes with the intensity of a blizzard. Then, as the moments passed and her fury slowly subsided, she managed to collect herself enough to say but two words. “His own.”

Lillian went silent.
She still refuses to face what had happened.

“Whatever might have occurred, and regardless of your own opinion of it, our situation remains unchanged. We need this marriage, Lillian. The future Lord Stanbury will provide you with stability, and will care for all your needs. What more could you possibly ask for?”

“Perchance that he love me, and only me? That he not drink himself silly every night, nor undress others with his gaze while I am still with him? Is that too much to ask?”

“As a matter of fact it is, Lillian. Men are
like
that
,
and the sooner you learn it, the easier your life will be.”

“Well, I do not like it,” Lillian concluded, the look of disapproval evident on her face.

“That I can see. Still, you will thank me one day,” her mother replied as she turned toward the door.

“What about that other man?” Lillian asked just as the Lady Ashdown was about to exit her room.

“Why, just
what
are you talking about, my dear?” Hints of a chuckle could be noted in her mother’s voice.

“I am referring to Captain Hawkins, of course. He has only been asking for my hand for the last half a year or so. Given how long you have led him on without a proper response, I find it rather difficult that you could have forgotten.”

“Ah,
that
man. I thought you disliked him thoroughly, my dear. Just where does this sudden interest come from?”

“Oh, I would still rather take a stroll through a rookery than spend a day with that brute. Still, it is just not decent for me to marry someone else right under his nose, don’t you agree?”

“You ought to let me worry about that, dearest. You make yourself pretty for tonight. Work your magic and hide that unsightly thing on your cheek. The future Lord Stanbury will want you at your best!” Her mother exited the bedroom, closing the doors behind her.