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Authors: Michele Sinclair

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

The Highlander's Bride (8 page)

BOOK: The Highlander's Bride
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She felt hollow inside, realizing that she had just vanquished any hope she may have had with the only man she would ever love. The pain that filled her heart made her external wounds seem trivial in comparison. She pressed her eyes shut. She had to believe that she was right. While she wanted him, he did not love her in return. Besides, she had to leave in the spring to warn her grandfather of Laird Douglass’s wrath. She hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

 

That night Conor decided it was time to learn how Laurel had arrived, beaten and frightened, at his camp. He had delayed hearing the account until now. He’d wanted to be closer to home, wanted to be well within allied territory, but mostly he’d wanted time. Time to develop his own conclusions as to her nature. But mostly time to remain ignorant.

She said that she was not married, but he knew she was guarding some secret. He was unsure whether he wanted to know about it or not. Until yesterday, he had almost convinced himself that he did not care. But now, after her words about commitment and marriage, he needed something to bolster his resolve to keep his hands off of her. It had taken all of his will to leave when she was in such pain.

Regardless, he needed to know what had happened in order to best protect her. For it did not matter whether or not she wanted his protection,
he
was going to ensure her safety.

That night at camp, the brothers’ discussion was similar to that of previous nights—light, cheerful, and animated. But Laurel paid little attention to the conversation as it continued boisterously about clans, battles, allies, and enemies. She was waiting for Conor to return from his nightly patrol. Behind her, Hamish approached and lightly touched her shoulder.

“Milady, our laird would like to speak with you.”

Laurel shuddered at the unexpected touch. She mustered a smile for the group and turned to leave, grabbing the plaid as she stood. She followed Hamish in silence as he escorted her to where Conor was waiting. Perhaps it was because Hamish had been sent to get her, but somehow she knew why Conor wanted to speak to her. She knew she should be grateful Conor had waited so long to hear her story. “I suppose it is time.”

“Aye, milady.”

Laurel paused and looked at Hamish uncomfortably. “Would you please call me Laurel when Conor is not around?”

“No, milady.”

“Can you explain why?”

Hamish crinkled his brow. “We are the laird’s guard, milady. We cannot address you by your proper name without permission, and it unlikely our laird will give us that now.”

Laurel was about to ask why, when she saw Conor speaking with Finn. As she approached, they separated.

“Find Loman and verify the camp perimeter,” said Conor, dismissing Hamish, who nodded and left.

Finn moved off the rock he was leaning on and let Laurel take his place. She looked thankfully at him. The night air was chilly, and she was glad she had brought Conor’s plaid with her.

“I expect you want to know what happened and why I asked for your assistance,” she began.

Conor stood aloof, his stance open but daunting. “Aye. I want to know the whole story. But, just so we are clear, Laurel, I mostly want to know the name of the man who beat you and why.” His voice was remote as well, making him seem more like an impartial judge than a supportive friend.

She took a deep breath. “Well, first let me thank you for your help,” she started nervously. She was tense, and just thinking about what happened was only making things worse.

Finn, seeing her struggle and Conor’s abrupt cold behavior, decided to be compassionate. “It’s all right, lass. No one can hurt you now. We are far away from Douglass land and are well within allied borders. No lowlander will be venturing this far into the highlands.”

Laurel smiled up at him. “My full name is Laurel Rose Cordell and, as you already assumed, I have lived in England my entire life. My brother is a baron, and his lands are near the Scotland border in the Cheviot Hills of Northumberland.” She looked down. She so wanted to tell Conor the full story, but she could not put her grandfather in danger. No, it would be better if they thought her a purely English maiden abducted from her brother’s land.

“I was abducted by Keith Douglass and some of his men while riding on my brother’s land.” She paused, hating to lie to him, but then mentally prepared herself and continued.

“I did not know who he was at first. He and his men rode in so quickly and slaughtered the escorts who were riding with me. Out of a dozen men, only two survived. The Douglass leader was cruel. He enjoyed the killing, the blood. I still don’t know why he attacked, or why he took me with him.”

Finn looked at Conor. Could it be the lass was unaware of her beauty? Conor shook his head at Finn, motioning him to remain quiet, and waited for her to continue.

“At first, they laughed at the nightmare they created. Two of them started goading each other as to who was to have me first. Then, their leader, a man named Keith, turned wild. He punched one and then took his sword to the other.” She looked up at Conor. “He killed his own man. What kind of evil lives in a man to cause him to do such a thing?”

She looked back down at her clenched hands and continued. “I think at first I was in shock. But, after he killed his own guard, I started to fight back. Most of my injuries were incurred during the ride to his keep. I know I cut him several times with my nails across his face and neck. The more I fought, the worse he would beat me. Still, I could not stop attacking him whenever given the chance. Eventually, he bound me and threw me over the back of his horse.

“By the time we had arrived at his home, I knew I was going to die. Then right before we got to the gates, the demon unbound me and forced me to ride with him. He told me that if I uttered a sound, made a single move, he would kill me without mercy.” Laurel shuddered.

“His keep is large, but dark. Cold and cruelty fill its walls. I have never felt the like before. I thought that I had seen evil in Keith, but his father…I have never seen a man so full of hate. Even for his own son. It consumed him so.” She sighed unsteadily and stood up, wrapping her arms around her, leaving the plaid on the rock.

“What happened next was shocking. And at that point, I was numb.” She turned, looked up straight into Conor’s eyes and spoke faintly. “It seemed that Keith wanted to marry me. I don’t know why. He really thought I would marry him after he killed all those men and had beat me.” She looked away again and stared out towards the moonlit mountains.

“His father said no. He told Keith that he could bed me, but he could not marry me. It seems that Laird Douglass had promised his son would wed another laird’s daughter. He did not think his alliance would last without reliable insurance. It seems that the Douglass clan had made a lot of enemies and needed to secure allies by more than word of honor.”

Especially since Douglass’s honor rarely could be counted on and that fact was becoming more readily known, thought Conor.

“He suggested that his son rape me quickly,” Laurel whispered. “Then his father said that he just might take me once himself.”

Laurel remembered the rest of the conversation, too. But she could not risk her grandfather’s life and share it with Conor. Laird Douglass told her that she should cooperate, for if she should ever return back to her grandfather’s people, he would kill every last MacInnes.

Laurel, knowing nothing about her grandfather, his people, or the size of his army, could not risk not believing him. She would do anything to protect the grandfather who gave her great big bear hugs, swung her around in circles, and told her stories of Scotland and its great history.

“That is enough. You have said enough tonight,” Conor said. He was barely containing his anger. Strong emotions slashed through him as her story progressed. He wanted to hear no more. He did not want to be told about what Keith did to her. The knowledge that another man had touched her,
beaten
her, was driving him to the edge. He wanted to end this now.

Laurel reached out and gripped his arm. “No, please. Let me finish. I need to tell you and then…then I never want to talk of it again.” Laurel pleaded as tears welled in her eyes. He could see how hard this was on her and realized to make her relive it again would only prolong her agony. But while she would speak her story and forget, he would remember. And avenge her.

Laurel resumed her position against the rock. She looked at Finn. He seemed completely rattled and she felt an unconscious need to reassure him.

“Finn, I’m all right now. Remember it was you and Hamish who found me,” she said, smiling at him. It rendered him completely speechless. While he was happily married and had no desire for her, Finn suddenly understood how Conor, Hamish and the others could feel so strongly attracted to her. If Conor did not claim her when they arrived on the morrow, someone would soon approach him for her hand. It would be interesting to see if his laird’s stance against marriage remained strong when that happened.

Laurel began again, “Keith was enraged by his father’s refusal. Actually, it was his father’s suggestion that he, too, would participate that probably drove Keith over the edge—and gave me the chance to flee.

“He was now even more determined to marry me. I honestly don’t think he really wanted to, he just wanted revenge against his father. Marrying an Englishwoman would be in clear defiance of his father’s purpose for him. I think that is what drove him to bring me in front of the altar with a priest.

“The priest was just as shocked as I. I looked dreadful, and Keith was so serious and maniacal. The priest asked if I agreed to the vows, and while I knew what would happen, I refused. Keith swore he would kill me, but I still refused. Honestly, I did not think to live the night. But I wasn’t going to die as Keith Douglass’s wife.”

Laurel paused for breath. She was about to tell them she was a murderess. Would they understand? She looked at Conor, but he looked devoid of emotion. She knew he had been listening, but could not ascertain what he was feeling. Did he believe her? Did he think she should have agreed? No, he would not think that.
Finish the telling,
Laurel thought.
Finish and see what he says.

“Keith turned crazed. The priest tried to stop him, but Keith struck him and then ordered him away from Douglass lands. He dragged me by my hair back to his chambers and tried to hit me, but I avoided most of his swings. It was then that I spotted a dirk on a table near the window. I snatched it just as he grabbed me.

“Please believe I only intended to make him leave me alone, but the way I landed on the bed and the way he came after me…I…I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted him to stop. But then he came at me, I raised my hand and the dirk plunged into his chest.” She looked at Conor. Still no reaction. She moved so that she faced nobody, speaking to them and yet to no one.

“I slipped out the same way he led me to his chamber, through some vacant passageway. I followed it beyond the chapel and outside of the keep’s walls and started running. It felt like I ran forever. I ran right into your men that night. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there and helped me.”

Conor’s emotions were in chaos. Not revealing his raw fury was one of the most taxing things he had ever demanded of himself. He knew that if she sensed just a fragment of what he was feeling, she would not complete her account.

Conor wanted to hold her and tell her that no one would ever, ever harm her or those she loved. He wanted to give her vows of protection and receive reassurance in return. He wanted her to promise to lean on him. To only need him, want him, Conor McTiernay.

Instead, he remained distant, watching Laurel look towards his mountains. The home of the highlanders. She was cradling herself as if to ward off all the evil in the world. Her tale should have relieved her, but it seemed to have only added to her burdens.

“Laurel?” he asked gently, without anger or malice. There was no hatred in his voice that she—an Englishwoman—killed his own kinsman. Gone was the anger of this afternoon. Only compassion filled his voice.

She turned and he saw tears brimming in her eyes. As she looked at him, she let a cry escape and he crushed her into his arms. Conor held her close trying to take her every trouble, every problem as his own.

Laurel clung to Conor as if her life depended on this one laird’s ability to understand and relieve her guilty spirit. For just this moment, in his arms, she felt protected from the past, the present and the future. Here, Douglass didn’t exist. Conor cared for her, and her grandfather would be safe.

Finn watched as Laurel received warmth and relief from the laird known by most as cold and heartless. He could see that she wanted not the laird, but the man. It was at that moment Finn knew he would lay down his life for her. Although Laurel did not realize it, she had brought love back into his laird’s world, and Finn would forever be grateful.

 

It was fairly dark by the time they returned to the campsite. All of the McTiernay brothers were asleep on their plaids. Conor spread out his own in a vacant spot near the fire and motioned for her to use it. He then moved and relaxed back against a nearby tree. It was clear Conor was not going to sleep beside her this night.

Was it her request this afternoon for distance? Or was it her account of what happened with Keith Douglass? Either way, Conor was sending a clear message that tonight she was to sleep alone.

Laurel had bad dreams again and awoke shivering and in Conor’s arms. She quickly fell back to sleep but the next time she stirred, he was gone.

Laurel awoke early, but not before Conor and his guard. They must have already left to get ready for the day’s ride. It was still moderately dark outside, but she could see that the sun would be dawning soon. She rose and went to wash her face and take care of necessities.

The trees near the river were denser and much darker than she remembered from the previous night. She must have taken a wrong turn on her way to the river when she heard voices.

BOOK: The Highlander's Bride
13.19Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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