Page 1 of Bound to a Scot (Sins in a Kilt #2)
CHAPTER ONE
T hunder roared and flashes of lightning lit up the heavens above. The fury of the storm had the ship bucking and rolling beneath her, making Emmeline groan. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and held herself tight, fighting off the waves of nausea that broke over her as powerfully as the waves she’d seen breaking over the bow of the ship. Her stomach lurched and she reached for the bucket that had been set beside her bed, but as she held it beneath her face, the moment of nausea passed.
Emmeline hated being on the water. Hated being on a ship. And she hated storms whilst being on board a ship most of all. Everything about her voyage terrified her. The only reason she was even in that position was because she’d gone to visit her sister and there was no overland route. If there had been, she would have happily taken it, no matter how long it took. Even a month on land in a stuffy, hard, uncomfortable wagon was far preferrable to traveling on water.
“Bleedin’ hell, I need tae get off this ship,” she groaned.
As she set the bucket down, a knock sounded on her cabin door. She quickly smoothed out her dress and patted down her hair, doing her best to compose herself. Emmeline cleared her throat and sat up straighter on the bunk.
“Come,” she called, her voice weaker than she’d intended.
The door opened and Titus, one of the men her husband had sent to watch over her on her trip stepped into her cabin. He was tall, with dark hair, darker eyes, and a smooth, pale complexion. Broad through the shoulders and chest, she knew Titus was skilled with a blade. But Emmeline didn’t make the mistake of thinking he was there to actually protect her. He was there to keep her from running off. Titus was loyal to Laird Macfie above all else.
It was wasted effort. She wouldn’t have run off anyway. Not without Cecilia, her fifteen-year-old stepdaughter, who was the only good thing to come out of her forced marriage to the cold, cruel man who called himself her husband. Laird Burchard Macfie made no attempt to hide his disdain for her. He took Emmeline’s inability to produce a male heir as her personal failing. More than that, he took it as a personal affront and used it to make her feel like she was less than nothing.
“Me lady,” he said with a curt bow. “We have arrived in Colonsay?—”
“Tis wonderful news,” she interrupted. “I’m about ready tae get home.”
She wasn’t ready to go home. Not really. But going to the well-appointed dungeon she lived in was better than staying on board the ship a moment longer.
“Unfortunately, me lady, we willnae be travelin’ tae Castle Macfie tonight?—”
“What?” Emmeline snapped. “And why nae?”
“The weather is too bad. Ye may have been hearin’ the thunder outside?” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
Emmeline glared at him through eyes that had been narrowed to slits. “I am the Lady Macfie and I willnae be spoken tae that way by the likes of ye.”
Titus’ face darkened and the smarmy smile on his lips faded. He looked down at the deck and cleared his throat then raised his head again.
“Me apologies, me lady. I meant nay offense,” he said.
Emmeline said nothing but continued to glower at him. She had never liked the man. Not from the start. She’d never liked the way he looked at her, nor the way he spoke to her. But it was the way his eyes roamed her body with such familiarity that offended her the most. It made her skin crawl, for she knew the sort of impure, disgusting thoughts that rattled through his mind. She could see it in his eyes.
She had asked Burchard to stop having him shadow her. She’d told him she didn’t feel comfortable in the man’s presence, but nothing changed. It didn’t take Emmeline long to realize he kept Titus on her detail simply because he enjoyed her discomfort, making her miserable. And part of her thought her husband wouldn’t have cared if Titus forced himself upon her.
“The storm is makin’ the roads impassable, me lady. ‘Tis too dangerous.”
“Aye, and I’m sure me husband would be heartbroken if somethin’ were tae happen tae me.”
Titus didn’t say anything to that. Not that there was much he could say, but Emmeline figured it was because he knew and shared her husband’s low opinion of her.
“I willnae stay aboard this bleedin’ ship a minute longer than I have tae,” she said. “I’d rather take me chances on the road.”
“We’ve secured rooms at an inn in town, me lady.”
“Fine. Then have me things brought there. Oversee it yerself.”
“Apologies, me lady, the laird told me tae never let ye out of me sight,” he said “But I’ll make sure the lads ken tae bring yer things along.”
Emmeline let out a heavy sigh. She wanted nothing more than a hot bath and a night out from under from Titus’ watchful eye.
“Thae rain has let up a bit, so we’re ready tae escort ye tae the inn. That is if ye’re ready tae go, me lady,” he said.
She got to her feet and walked around him then out of the cabin. The ship still rolled beneath her feet, making her way up the stairs a bit of an adventure. But she managed to make it to the deck without falling on her backside. Though thunder still rumbled, and lightning lit up the clouds above, Titus was right, there was a break in the rain. How long that lasted, she had no idea, but Emmeline thought it best to get to the inn before it started again.
She allowed her escorts to precede her down the gangway to the dock. From there, the party divided with half a dozen of her husband’s men in front of her, half a dozen behind, all dressed in tunics with her husband’s sigil and dark cloaks, as they made their way from the dock to the cobblestone streets of the small town that sat on the bay where their ship had docked. Emmeline felt ridiculous traveling in the middle of such a large party.
It was less about protecting her than it was about her husband showing his strength. He wanted anybody who saw the group who they were and more importantly, who their laird was. Burchard wanted people who saw his sigil to associate it with strength, force, power. Even more, he wanted people who saw his sigil to be afraid—too afraid to ever oppose him.
It was all theater with Burchard though, for he himself was a weak man. A bully. A coward. If not for the armed men who surrounded him, nobody would fear Burchard Macfie. But that was the point. He had wealth and he had men around him who were fierce, loyal, and as cruel as he was.
Emmeline’s entourage marched her into the Three Crowns Inn . The half-filled common room was large and dimly lit. The heavy odor of pipe smoke filled the air and a thick cloud of it hugged the rafters in the ceiling over her head. The flames in the oversized fireplace cast flickering shadows across the walls and it put out enough heat to beat back the bitter cold outside.
Her entourage spread out, shaking off their cloaks and took seats near the fire. A couple of barmaids bustled around, dropping off cups of warm, mulled wine. Even through the stench of the pipe smoke, Emmeline could smell the mélange of spices drifting from the mugs.
“Ye’ll be in a room on the second floor, me lady,” Titus said. “Third room down on the right. There’s a bathtub and I’ll make sure they have hot water brought up?—”
“I’ll be havin’ a drink before I go tae bed.”
“Me lady, I think ye should get some sleep. Assumin’ this bleedin’ storm breaks, we’ve got a long road tomorrow?—”
“Ye’ll nae tell me what tae dae, Titus,” she growled. “If I’ve a mind tae have a cup of wine, I’ll be havin’ it. Ye’re free tae go tae bed since I’ve got nay need fer ye any more this evenin’.”
Titus frowned, an expression of irritation crossing his face. She knew he was tired. She could see it in his face. He did not look like a man who fancied staying up any later than he had to. But he also looked afraid of shirking the responsibility his laird had given him and then finding out. Emmeline leaned closer to him and pitched her voice low.
“Feel free tae go tae bed, Titus,” she said. “I’ll nae tell Burchard ye took yer eyes off me long enough fer me tae have a bleedin’ cup of wine. Besides, there are a dozen of yer men in the common room. ‘Tis nae like I could go anywhere, even if I wanted tae.”
He hesitated and seemed like he might take her up on the offer, but then shook his head, and Emmeline felt her heart sink.
“I’ve got me orders,” he said.
Part of her wanted to inconvenience him and deny him sleep just to annoy him. It only seemed fitting since he annoyed her. She’d been cooped up in her cabin aboard the ship for so long, the last thing she wanted to do was go coop herself up in a room again. She gave serious thought to having a mug of wine just to stretch her legs a bit. But her distaste at the thought of having Titus hovering over her for the rest of the night outweighed her desire for a little bit of freedom, if only in the common room, and she muttered under her breath.
She finally snorted. “Fine. I’ll go tae me bleedin’ room if it gets me away from ye, if only fer a little while.”
“’Tis wise,” Titus said.
Emmeline turned to go but paused when her gaze fell upon a man sitting in a corner near the fire by himself. Although he was seated, she could tell he was tall. He had wide shoulders and a body that looked taut with thick, corded muscle. His hair and beard were so blonde, they were almost white, and his jade green eyes sparkled in the firelight. The sleeves of his tunic were rolled up, revealing dark tattoos that covered a thick web of scars, and he had an air of mystery and danger about him that made her heart skip a beat.
As if sensing her eyes on him, the man turned and when their eyes met, she gasped. Her heart felt like it stopped dead in her chest and her stomach lurched harder than when she’d been aboard the rocking, bucking ship. The man raised his mug and took a drink, still staring at her over the rim of his cup, making Emmeline’s heart flutter wildly.
Titus’ voice cut into her thoughts annoyingly. “Me lady, yer room?—”
She rounded on him. “I ken where me room is. I’m nae bleedin’ deaf.”
Emmeline turned back to the blond-haired stranger, but he’d already turned his gaze back to the fire. She watched, for just a moment, the way the bright, orange light from the fire flickered across his strong jawline and striking profile. Her heart thundering in her ears, she turned and pounded up the stairs, desperate to be away from Titus.
She burst into her room and slammed the door behind her, shutting Titus out, then walked across the room and flopped onto her bed. With images of the blond-haired stranger still dancing through her mind, she stared up at the ceiling, a small smile curling the corners of her mouth. She knew she should get some rest. The journey back to Castle Macfie would be long. But as she thought about the man’s sparkling green eyes, Emmeline knew sleep would not be coming anytime soon.