The Lover (34 page)

“Mayhap because I found my wife embracing the son of my greatest foe.”

“I was
not
embracing him! We were holding a private conversation, merely that.”

“Well, in future I forbid you to speak to him, privately or otherwise.”

Sabrina stiffened, her anger roused to be treated like a disobedient child. “Simply because
you
hold such vast expertise in cuckolding indifferent husbands is no justification to accuse
me
of immorality. I am no adulteress.”

“Not yet, perhaps.”

His reply struck her like a blow, driving her breath away. How could he possibly believe her guilty of infidelity? She had never done anything to warrant such a vile accusation.

When she remained silent, Niall caught her elbow, drawing her close…so close she could see his features. His mouth hovered just above hers, its beautiful lines stark and sensual, as if etched from stone. “I will brook no impropriety in my bride, do you ken me?”

“Yes, I ken you,” she retorted, her voice shaking. “It is clear that your standards of conduct make no pretense of evenhandedness. It is perfectly acceptable for you to behave like a randy stallion, while I must remain altogether virtuous.”

“Exactly.”

She wrenched her arm away. “You need not fear, my lord. I have every intention of honoring my marriage vows—even though I’m certain you cannot make the same pledge. I doubt there is a female in the district you have not seduced.”

“It is different for a man.”

“Is it?” Her voice dripped scorn.

“Indeed. As a male, I cannot spawn another man’s by-blow.”

“So that gives you license to rut with anything in skirts?”

She could feel Niall’s narrowed gaze piercing her. “I need no license to seek other companionship. I made no promise of fidelity when I agreed to this damnable union.”

Flinching, Sabrina dropped her own gaze, her lowered lashes masking the pain.

“I will not warn you again, madam. Keep away from the Buchanans,” Niall commanded tersely, before lapsing into silence once more.

They spoke not a word for the remainder of the short journey. When they reached Creagturic, Sabrina went directly upstairs to their bedchamber.

Niall did not join her—not then, nor anytime during the long night. For the first time since their marriage, Sabrina found herself forsaken. She lay alone in the vast bed, missing her husband’s warmth, his hardness, his magnetic presence. Finding sleep impossible, she tossed and turned and punched her pillow a dozen times, brooding in anger. To think he believed her capable of adultery…She would never behave so dishonorably.

His double standard infuriated her as well. ’Twas not fair! She was constrained by her vows of fidelity to be faithful, while he suffered no such constraints.

Far worse, she loved the wretched man!

Damn him, damn him, triple damn him…If he wanted fidelity and loyalty from her, he should be willing to give it himself.

Sabrina rose blurry-eyed the following morning—long after Niall had already left the house. She was too mortified to ask where her husband had spent the night, though she was certain the servants knew.

When noon approached, she informed Mrs. Paterson that she meant to call on her grandfather. Then, drawing on a cloak and collecting her dog for protection, she had a horse saddled and defiantly rode out to meet Owen Buchanan’s son.

It was a dangerous course, Sabrina knew. Yet she refused to allow Niall to dictate her every action, refused to lie down like a doormat while he heartlessly trod over her. And in truth, more than defiance drove her. She had hopes of ultimately getting to the bottom of the mystery regarding the cattle raids.

Keith Buchanan was right. Something smelled rotten. The Buchanans believed that she had started the conflict, that she’d duped them by pretending to arrange a truce. Owen’s fury at her on her wedding day had been entirely genuine, Sabrina remembered. He’d accused her of tricking him into leaving his herds unguarded. Of course she had not. Indeed, she’d blamed them for the betrayal. But what if they were no more guilty than she was? If the Buchanans had not struck the first blow, it was understandable they would feel wronged after Niall’s midnight raid and his wounding of two Buchanan kinsmen.

Sabrina clenched her teeth in frustration. Clearly she couldn’t discuss the situation with Niall. He was too blinded by hatred to ever see the Buchanans as anything but thieves and murderers. But if there truly were a chance to promote peace, she couldn’t miss it because she was too timid to stand up to her infuriating, domineering husband. Most certainly if his best interests would be served.

Niall was absurdly misguided to accuse her of seeking to put horns on him. Keith Buchanan had shown no amorous intentions toward her. Indeed, just the opposite; he seemed more inclined to wrap his fingers around her throat and throttle her. There would be no impropriety in their meeting in broad daylight. And such a gray, damp day was scarcely conducive to romance. A heavy mist hung low over the rugged hills, obscuring the highest peaks.

Her thoughts occupied, Sabrina scarcely noticed her surroundings, yet as she and Rab passed verdant forests and valleys, the majesty eventually worked to soothe her temper. When she came to a rushing burn, she followed its path to a lush, pine- and bracken-covered glen. In the distance, the tranquil waters of a loch gleamed silver, its banks heavily treed.

The shrill cry of a curlew pierced the quiet as she drew her mount to a halt. Near the shore stood a typical crofter’s cottage, whitewashed stone with thatched roof. From the chimney, lazy wisps of smoke swirled upward toward the rain-laden skies, tingeing the air with the scent of peat fire. Beyond the croft, a saddled horse grazed peacefully.

The raven-haired man leaning negligently against the trunk of a rowan tree had his back to her, but he turned when he heard the soft thud of her horse’s hooves.

Keith stared at her a moment, one hand on the hilt of his sword, as she came to a halt before him. “Welcome, milady.”

Sabrina managed a smile. “Do you mean to run me through, sir?” she asked lightly.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a reluctant grin. “’Twould be a mistake to attempt it, if what I hear about ye is true. Ye would acquit yerself well enough to threaten my manhood. Nay, ’tis yer animal I seek to defend myself against.” With his head he gestured at the giant dog, who was standing at attention, ready to attack if need be.

“Oh, forgive me…” Sabrina called to her dog and told him to be easy.

Keith’s guard relaxed. “I thank ye for coming, milady.”

“There is no need to thank me. I would like to solve this mystery as much as you would.”

“I gather the McLaren denies dealing in treachery.”

“I did not ask him about it. Niall…was rather angry last night. He doesn’t know I’ve come—”

No sooner had the words left her mouth when she heard the rhythmic sound of hoofbeats behind her.

Glancing over her shoulder, Sabrina drew a sharp breath when she recognized the black horse emerging from beyond the crofter’s hut, moving toward her at an easy canter. While the horseman possessed raven hair like Keith Buchanan’s, the powerful shoulders were draped in a McLaren plaid.

Keith’s hand immediately went to his sword again, while Sabrina’s fingers tightened on her reins. Evidently Niall had trusted her so little that he had to follow her.

Slowing to a walk, he urged his mount forward, till he was abreast of her. With a whimper of welcome, Rab fawned at his feet, but Niall appeared not to notice. His jaw was clenched savagely, while his eyes burned a fury like blue fire as he stared down at Keith Buchanan. “You have a death wish, I see. You should have heeded my warning.”

“And what warning was that?” Keith returned, his scornful tone taunting.

“I told you to keep away from my wife. Clearly I shall have to teach you a lesson in prudence.”

“Ye may try,” he spat, drawing his sword from its scabbard.

“No!” Sabrina cried as Niall swung down from his horse. “Stop it! Please!”

When neither man paid her any mind, she drove her mount forward, positioning herself between them. “Please…this is absurd. There is no justification for bloodshed.”

“Sabrina, move away!” Niall demanded.

“Aye, milady,” Keith agreed. “This isna yer battle.”

“Of course it is!” She gazed down at Keith imploringly, knowing he would be easier to reason with than her husband. “Mr. Buchanan, please…this meeting was obviously a mistake. I should never have come. Please will you not go?”

His narrowed gaze shifted from Niall to her.

“Please,” she pleaded. “It would be better if you left.”

“I dinna like to leave ye alone with him.”

“I’ll be all right. Please…just go.”

His jaw clenching, Keith went to his horse. Sheathing his sword, he swung himself up into the saddle and rode stiffly away, only once glancing back.

When he was gone, the resultant silence was deafening. It was so quiet Sabrina could hear the gentle lap of water on the shore of the loch.

Niall glanced darkly up at her. “A pity your craven admirer lacks the courage to stay and fight.”

“It isn’t craven to refuse to argue with a madman,” Sabrina replied through gritted teeth. “What do you mean, following me here like a wretched spy?”

Niall sheathed his blade. “I thought to interrupt a lover’s tryst.”

“A
lover’s
tryst!”

His blue eyes hardened. “I warned you to keep away from our foes. Apparently you cannot be trusted.”

Sabrina’s temper rose again precipitously. It was the outside of enough that he should accuse her of infidelity without the slightest justification. “Apparently your frequent sojourns in the stews of debauchery have rendered you incapable of objective judgment. Well, you can take your base suspicions and…and swallow them!”

She drew back on the reins, intending to turn her horse and ride away, but Niall moved sharply to her side and reached up for her. Pulling Sabrina from her horse, he set her on her feet none too gently. “Listen hard, lass. I’ll not have my commands thwarted.”

“You do not rule me, sirrah!”

“I do indeed rule you, madam, as your husband and chief! ’Tis high time you accepted that.”

“Go to the devil!”

He swore an expletive, his brogue deepening as he retorted, “You’ll no’ take one of our enemies as lover, do you ken me?”

Sabrina clenched her teeth. “Perfectly, my lord! Should I decide to take a lover, I shall be certain to choose one from among our
allies
.”

His irises grew black as he stared down at her, dark emotion streaking through them like lightning in a stormy sky. Sabrina had never seen him so angry. It was recklessness itself to defy him when he was in such a mood, and yet her own mood matched his for explosiveness.

“You suffer from the most colossal case of presumption I have ever witnessed! You are not the only man in existence. If I wish to take a lover, I will! If I wish a
dozen
lovers, I will do so! Do
you
ken
me
?”

It was an idle threat, but she was too incensed for circumspection. She met his fierce gaze measure for measure.

His eyes hard with fury, he closed his fingers painfully on her arms.

“Don’t you dare think to raise a hand to me!” she warned.

His jaw set rigidly, Niall visibly gritted his teeth. “I have never touched a lass in anger before, but I vow in this instance I could make an exception.”

“’Tis no more than I would expect from a dissolute libertine!”

“Do you ken how to swim?” he demanded suddenly.

“What?”

“Can you swim?”

“No! Why—”

She was abruptly silenced as Niall bent and scooped her up in his arms. Sabrina gasped and clutched his neck as he carried her to the edge of the loch.

Rab growled once, but a sharp command from Niall made him cease. With a whine of confusion, the huge animal dropped to his belly, resting his head on his paws. It infuriated Sabrina to realize she could not even look to her dog for protection.

To her startlement, though, Niall waded directly into the water.

“Mayhap this will cool your lusts!” he declared, before letting her drop with a splash.

The loch was only waist-deep there, but Sabrina gasped as the icy water closed over her head. She flailed in panic for an instant, then came up choking and coughing and sputtering with fury.

“You—w-wretched—b-beast! You—loutish—j-jackanapes!” Half blinded by chilling streams of water, she struggled to her feet, cursing Niall with words she wasn’t even aware she knew. On the rocky shore, Rab leapt wildly, punctuating her tirade with excited barks.

“Take care, lass,” Niall warned, turning to retreat to dry land. “You’ll make me think a dousing wasn’t discipline enough.”

“Damn your eyes…!”

He had thrown her in the loch, and now he had the gall to taunt her! His arrogance made her blood boil.

Shoving her wet hair from her eyes, Sabrina stalked after him—or rather, she
tried
to stalk after him. Regrettably she had great difficulty following him with her sodden cloak and skirts weighing her down. “Come back here, you cowardly brute!”