Page 51 of Bound to a Scot (Sins in a Kilt #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

A s they journeyed on, Elsie couldn’t help but wonder about their strange and tense exchange. Bad enough that they had had a moment that caused her to feel something she had never felt before, but the laird had nearly taken the thought right out of her head.

Had her expression conveyed what she had actually been thinking? Surely not, and yet, she must have given something away, for how could he possibly have known what was going on in her mind?

Once more, as she sat on the back of his horse, the rope was securely tied around her waist.

“Now, more than ever, I think ye need this,” he had said, clearly referring to her attempted escape.

What a fool she had been to think she could get very far. Now, she suffered even more, for though he had wiped her skin with tonic, the scratches still burned and stung a little. Perhaps not as much as they might have, had he not attended to them, but still.

As they ventured into the village, several hours later, the laird dismounted. Turning back to her, he lifted her down from the horse. Admittedly, she was surprised at his gentleness under the circumstances.

“I’m going tae remove this,” he said, untying the rope at her waist. “Dinnae mak’ me regret it.”

“Ye mean, after such a successful attempt on the last occasion?” Elsie grumbled.

“It could’ve been worse. I might never have found ye, and ye’d have been stuck out in the wilds on yer own. After last night, I have a funny feeling that ye wouldnae have lasted too long.”

She screwed her nose at him, and then he took her by the arm.

“Let’s go.”

The men with them moved further into the village, while the laird, Elsie and Alisdair headed towards the chapel. As reluctant as she was, she really had little choice but to go with them. Once inside the small stone building, Laird Mackay went in search of the priest, leaving Elsie with Alisdair.

“Ye ken,” Alisdair began, “Keane isnae a bad man.”

“Ye could’ve fooled me,” Elsie retorted. “What kind of man is he then, tae steal me away from me own wedding and now, force me tae marry him?”

Alisdair didn’t seem to have an answer for that, and instead he shrugged. “He’s far from perfect, but he’s fair, and he’ll nae harm a hair on yer head.”

“Aye, nae a hair,” she countered sarcastically. “He’ll just kill me, and harm them all.”

Alisdair shook his head. “He was never going tae kill ye. He doesnae have it in him tae hurt an innocent lass.” He then heaved a sigh. “I wish ye’d have kent the man I grew up with, the one I’ve been friends with fer years. But he’s changed now, and he’s…” Alisdair trailed off, clearly trying to choose his words. “He’s nae the attentive man he was. Let’s put it that way.”

“Well, there’s a revelation I couldnae have worked out fer mesel’,” she replied, the sarcasm still heavy in her tone. “Why are ye tellin’ me this?”

“Because every person deserves tae ken a little something about the one they’ll marry.”

I ken enough already!

While the two fell silent and watched Keane converse with the priest from a distance, Elsie was reminded of her father. He too, was a cruel man. His unkindness toward her had never been provoked, nor had she given him reason to be so callous, apart from the fact that she was a daughter and not a son. It appeared she would now spend her life with yet another forbidding fiend.

From one dreadful existence tae another.

At least she was used to it.

Keane and the priest seemed to have finished their conversation and walked toward them.

“He will marry us,” Keane said, feigning a ridiculous excitement. “Isnae that wonderful, me love?”

“Aye,” Elsie replied flatly. “Fantastic.”

The priest flicked her a worried glance, but Keane grabbed her by the hand, squeezing it slightly, giving her a wordless warning.

“Och, she’s joking,” Keane said, forcing a laugh, a threatening laugh that almost made Elsie shiver. He then looked at her pointedly. “Are ye nae, darling?”

“Aye,” Elsie said, pinning on a smile as fake as his. “O’ course, I am.”

The priest still did not look convinced, but led them to the front of the chapel at any rate, and while Alisdair stood as their witness, the old cleric began the proceedings.

Elsie listened to him with growing anxiety, for now, everything felt very real. Once she agreed to this, she would truly be Laird Mackay’s wife. The priest turned to her, and when it came to the vows, she suddenly wanted to run, scream, yell at the top of her voice that there was no way she wanted to marry this man. And thus, not answering him when he asked for her agreement, Elsie watched as the priest frowned.

Turning his gaze to Keane, he said, “Is the bride willing?”

“She is,” Keane said.

Elsie suddenly jumped at the pain in her arm, and realizing that Keane was pinching her, she quickly breathed. “I am. I… I dae.”

While the old man looked skeptical, the wedding ceremony continued, until the deed was done. In that moment, Elsie felt a great weight press down on her as a heavy sadness ran through her very soul. She was now shackled, a prisoner in her own life. The marriage was legal and binding, and in that moment, she imagined she would never be freed. Not until the laird was dead, at any rate. But running away would mean dying and she was not ready to leave this world yet.

After Keane thanked the priest, the three exited the chapel. Reaching the cobblestone outside, Keane leaned close to her ear.

“Ye are mine, now, Lady Mackay.”

Those words made her feel even worse and she stifled a shudder.

I am now Lady Mackay.

The thought echoed through her mind, and yet, though it was the truth, it felt utterly foreign to her. It ought not to really. Had the wedding occurred yesterday, she would have been Lady Gunn. What difference was there between the two circumstances? Two devils. She would then, as she was now, be married to a man she neither loved nor cared for, and her existence would, as it did now, only serve the benefit of others.

There were many times she had envied the maids in her father’s castle. For certain, they worked hard and were at the beck and call of those whom they served, and yet, they experienced a freedom that Elsie never would. Many times, she had caught them frolicking with hysterical laughter in the kitchens and courtyards, full of life, and love, and laughter. They were their own person with the ability to be themselves.

Elsie often wondered what that felt like. So much was expected of her, she hardly knew who she really was, and what she really liked. The maids closest to her often lamented the very same, for they knew the weight she carried. They also knew the cruelty of her father, for it was they who comforted her when he reduced her to tears with his cutting remarks.

Laird Mackay was not her father, but nor was he so very different. So far, she had spent less than a day with the man, and apart from a few occurrences, he had manifested the same scowling, broody, and bullying behavior. And now, she was bound to him. Him and all the demons that tortured him.

Wonderful.

Stopping outside the village tavern, The Swan , the laird declared that they would stay the night.

“The day is nearly done,” he said, looking up at the sun lowering in the sky. “We’ll have a decent night’s rest here and then continue our journey tomorrow.”

“Good,” Alisdair agreed. “I could dae with lying on a decent bed.”

The men shared a grin, and as Keane headed inside, Elsie followed, with Alisdair coming in behind her.

While the laird conversed with the inn-keeper, Elsie remained to the side, silent and out of the way. Secretly, she too was looking forward to a decent night’s sleep. In fact, with the little sleep she had managed to get, she was now feeling quite tired.

The laird handed out keys to Alisdair and the men, and then led them upstairs. As they climbed, she could not help but worry at the fact that she had not received a key of her own. At each step she took, dread washed over her, for she knew, before they even reached the door, that she was going to be forced to share a room with Keane Mackay.

He is yer husband now.

That’s beside the point.

Smirking down at her, he opened the door and gestured for her to step inside. Her heart thumped in her chest as she scanned the room. It was small with little in it other than a dresser and a double bed.

“Nay,” she said, shaking her head as he closed the door behind him. “There isnae a chance I am sharing that bed with ye.”

“Ye have nae choice,” he replied smugly. “Where else am I going tae sleep?”

She looked around the room once again. “Ye can tak’ the floor.”

“Indeed, I willnae be taking the floor,” he growled. “Apart from the fact that I just paid fer this room fer ye tae enjoy, I havenae slept in a proper bed in three days. And besides,” he swung a thick arm around the chamber. “Where dae ye really expect me tae fit?”

He had a point there, for the room was tiny.

Elsie opened her mouth to argue, but the laird shut her up.

“We’re sharing the bed, and that’s final.”

There was no point arguing. He was clearly determined, and she was not going to convince him otherwise. She nearly considered sleeping on the floor herself, but then remembered the aches and pains in her body that morning when she rose from sleeping on the ground. No. She needed a decent bed tonight.

“Then, may I at least request a bath,” she said adamantly, glaring at him in defiance. “Given the fact I was unable tae bathe this morning.”

“We’ll both tak’ a bath,” the laird replied.

Elsie’s mouth fell open and she gasped.

He sneered at her then. “Dinnae worry yer pretty little head. I dinnae mean together.”

While Keane took his bath, Elsie was once more left under the watchful eye of Alisdair as they sat downstairs in the tavern. Situated at a table with a drink before them, they watched for some time, the men merrily enjoying tankards of ale.

“They are relieved tae get an ale and a decent sleep tonight,” Alisdair said, out of the blue.

“Perhaps, if they were nae thundering around the country, snatching lasses from chapels, they’d enjoy their own beds more often,” Elsie snapped back.

She had not meant for her remark to be amusing, and yet, Alisdair turned to look at her with a wide grin. “Perhaps,” he said. After pausing a beat, he continued. “I’m sure yer faither is as displeased as ye at the circumstances.”

“O’ course. He was dead set on this alliance.”

“That, and he’s worried about ye,” Alisdair said, his voice expressing concern.

Elsie looked at him then. “Me faither couldnae care less about me. I am useful tae him only as an asset.”

The man beside her frowned deeply. “That cannae be true, me lady.”

“Ye clearly dinnae ken me faither,” she huffed.

“I ken o’ him,” he replied, “but nay, I have never had the pleasure o’ meeting him.”

Elsie tightened her jaw. “I assure ye, pleasure isnae a word I would use.”

Alisdair was about to reply when Keane arrived, fresh and clean at their table.

“Me last clean shirt,” he announced, sitting across from them with tankard in hand.

“Aye, and now ye dinnae smell like a horse’s arse,” Alisdair chuckled.

Elsie swallowed down a gasp at the man’s coarse language, and leaning forward, she placed her tankard on the table.

“Well, if ye will excuse me, I’m away tae get me bath.”

“The food will be here shortly,” Keane said, gesturing for her to sit. “There’ll be plenty o’ time fer yer bath afterwards. Besides, it’ll give the maids time tae get fresh water ready.”

Clenching her teeth in frustration at once more being ordered what to do, Elsie took hold of her tankard and took a long draw on it, eyeing the laird over the rim.

I hate ye. I hate ye more than I’ve ever hated anyone or anything in me life.

As the ale danced against her lips, her anger grew, expanding from her stomach to her breast, and up into her neck. He needed his bath first, and she was to sit like a good girl and wait. What an arrogant, pompous excuse for a man.

Let’s see fer how long this will be his ‘last clean shirt’.

And before she could talk herself out of it, Elsie jumped up from her chair, pretending to trip on something beneath the table, and with her arms launching forward, the ale flew from her tankard, landing all over Keane.

“Argh,” he yelled, shoving his chair backwards.

“Och, me God,” Elsie said calmly, doing the very best she could at swallowing her delight as droplets of ale fell from his now soaking hair, landing on his already soaked shirt.

“What the hell, woman?” he bellowed.

Everyone in the tavern turned to look. A slow rumble of laughter built, until most of those in the room were chortling heartily. Even Alisdair could not hold back his amusement.

“This isnae funny,” Keane barked, flicking his hands over his shirt, as though the action might make any difference to the state he was in.

“It looks pretty funny,” Alisdair quipped back.

With a searing glare at Elsie, who was physically biting her lip with force to stop herself giggling, he stormed from the room, the thumping sound of his footfalls on the stairs loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Another ale?” Alisdair said, looking at Elsie, his eyebrow lifting.

He knew it had not been an accident, and by the look he gave her, he knew Elsie knew that he knew, too. But without a word, he turned and headed to the bar to replace her drink.

A little while later, Keane returned, the wet shirt clinging to his body. Clearly, he had washed the ale from it, but unable to return to eat half naked, he had no choice but to put it back on, which only brought her more satisfaction.

Sitting opposite her, he scowled over at Elsie. “Ye are lucky we are in a public place, or I’d have put ye over me knee and beaten yer arse.”

“Och, come on, Keane,” Alisdair said soothingly. “It was an… accident. It wasnae like the lass stood and poured it over ye head on purpose.”

Elsie smiled at that remark, and as Keane grunted and turned away, Alisdair flicked a glance in her direction. A second later, he looked away again, making certain Keane did not see their exchange.

The food arrived, and while Alisdair and Keane conversed, Elsie ate in silence. Apart from the fact that she had little to say, she did not particularly have any interest in conversing with them, as though they were now all the greatest of friends. Even more than that, however, she was desperate for her bath, and, the sooner she ate, the sooner she could retire to her room and have some much-needed time to herself.

The laird’s men who sat a table over were rowdy, their laughter filling the room, while the drink was nearly spilt as much as it was drank. They were also rather handsy, and though the maids seemed to laugh it off or lap it up, Elsie could only gawk at the goings on happening before her very eyes.

The sound of Keane chuckling across from her brought her eyes back to her own table. He was still laughing while looking at her.

“What on earth dae ye find so funny?” she asked.

“Yer face as ye’re watching me men.” He grinned. “Ye really are an innocent wee thing, are ye nae, Elspeth?”

“Me name is Elsie.”

“Nay,” he said condescendingly. “Yer name is Elspeth. Ye just prefer tae be called Elsie.”

She huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Tell me why?” he asked.

Glaring at him, she replied, “That’s none o’ yer concern.”

“Well, here’s the thing,” he said, leaning over the table. “If ye cannae be bothered telling me why ye dinnae like Elspeth, I cannae be bothered abiding by yer wishes.”

“Fine,” she huffed, refusing to play his game. Pushing herself from the table, she said, “I am going fer me bath.”

“Nae on yer own, yer nae. Wait, so I can send a man with ye.”

Elsie’s eyes flew wide, “Ye certainly willnae?—”

“He will remain outside yer room,” Keane drawled, looking at her like she was an idiot.

“I’ll go,” Alisdair offered.

Keane glanced at his companion over the table. “Are ye certain?”

“Aye. Let the men have their fun.”

The laird hesitated for another second, and then he nodded. “Fine. Dinnae let her out o’ yer sight.”

Elsie was already walking away when she heard the laird finish his sentence.

“She’s a cunning one.”

Alisdair followed her upstairs and, at the door, she turned to look at him, fear rising in her stomach.

“Ye’ll be safe,” he said, gazing down at her with soft eyes. “I swear. I willnae let any harm come tae ye.”

At that moment, Elsie came to a realization. Alisdair was clearly the rational one between himself and the laird. Strangely, between his words to her now and the way he had spoken to her earlier, not to mention the fact that he had kept her earlier revenge to himself, she found herself actually believing him. Feeling a little more secure, she nodded, unlocked the door, stepped inside of her bedchamber and turned the key in the lock again. His word may be true, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

The water was hot, and for the time she was in it, Elsie relished the feeling of soothing it brought her. It was also the first time since her capture that she had managed to be alone. Only now, as she slowly relaxed, did she realize how tense and wound up she had been. Hardly a surprise under the circumstances. More so because she needed to be on her guard mentally at all times when around the laird, for his onslaughts were non-stop.

But now, I must stop thinking about him. I need tae grasp this opportunity o’ peace and quiet while I have it.

And with that thought, she closed her eyes and pretended she was back in her own bedchamber, in her father’s castle, safe, secure, and single.

It was as she was replacing her last item of clothing, an hour later, that she heard heavy footsteps on the stairs. After that, she heard the muffled sound of voices on the other side of the door.

Gazing at the door handle, she waited for it to move, for she knew the voices came from the laird and Alisdair. The door remained locked, and a sudden thought flew through her mind.

It could remain locked. I dinnae have tae let him in.

But then fear got the better of her, and she shook her head.

He would make me life a living hell if I forced him tae sleep in the same room as his men or Alisdair.

And a moment later, the door handle did rattle. When the door didn’t open, the laird knocked on it. “Let me in, Elspeth.”

She hesitated for just a second more, and then, losing her nerve, she moved the small distance across the room and turned the key.

When he strolled in, he looked down at her, a smile dancing at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll bet ye thought about it, didnae ye?” he sneered.

“Thought about what?” she asked, pretending she didn’t have a clue what he was talking about.

“Locking me out.”

“Nae at all,” she lied.

He looked at her for a long moment, and under his gaze, Elsie felt the heat rushing to her cheeks.

“Did anyone tell ye, ye’re are terrible liar?”

“Nay, they havenae,” she replied sharply. “Because I never have need tae lie. Now,” she said, turning toward the bed, “if I am tae share this with ye, we need some rules.”

“Rules?” he balked. “It’s a suffering bed, woman.”

“Indeed, it is,” she said, walking down one side of it. “And I will remain on this side, and ye will remain on that.” She jerked her head, inferring the other side of the bed.

“Fer the love o’ God,” he huffed, tugging at his plaid.

“What are ye doing?” she gasped.

“I’m getting undressed. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Absolutely nae!” she cried, terror rising up in her.

Clearly, by the scowling way in which he looked at her, he was frustrated at her reaction and demands, but after a long moment, he seemed to relent.

“Fine. I will remove only me plaid.” He paused a second. “And me boots.” He then looked at her. “Is it all right if I remove me boots, yer majesty?” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

Elsie nodded, and then, before she had to watch him remove anything, she hurriedly slipped beneath the blankets fully dressed, and turned her face to the wall.

Keane did a lot of huffing and puffing, and then, she felt the bed dip as he clambered into it. A second later, she heard him blow out the candle, and the room went dark.

For a long time, she lay there, perfectly still, hardly breathing while gripping the blankets around her chin. So far, he was keeping to his word. Whether he would remain doing so, she was too terrified to think about.