Page 8 of Bound to a Scot (Sins in a Kilt #2)

CHAPTER EIGHT

“ W hat in the bleedin’ hell are ye doin’ in here?” he hissed.

Emmeline stiffened and stood up straighter. She knew it was highly inappropriate and improper for a lady to barge into the men’s privy, but it seemed like the only place she could speak to Maddox without being seen.

“We need tae talk,” she replied. “And keep yer bleedin’ voice down. Burchard has eyes and ears all over the castle.”

“If that’s true, it doesnae seem wise tae follow me intae the privy then, does it?”

“I can move about unseen.”

A cocky grin touched his lips. “Ahh. So, ye’re a spy then, eh?”

“Shut it. I ken the way the people in the castle move about, that’s all,” she grumbled.

They stood silently for a moment, looking at one another, the air in the privy growing thicker with tension and a sense of anticipation. As she looked into his icy blue eyes, Emmeline felt her heart quiver with fear and that warm rush of desire that had filled her at the inn. She tried to quash that feeling ruthlessly. It had led her to make a terrible decision and the last thing she needed was to travel down that path again. Not here and not now.

“So? What is it then?” he asked. “Ye ran off so abruptly the other night… did ye come tae finish the game we started at the inn?”

Emmeline felt her cheeks flush and a lump form in her throat. She swallowed hard and tried to chase away the inappropriate thoughts that sought to take root in her mind. As if he was intuiting her thoughts, she watched the slow, smarmy smile cross his face. Her heart pounded in her ears and she felt the urge to slap him, then storm out of the privy in disgust. But the matter on her heart that had brought her to seek him out, in the privy of all places, was too dire to let his flirtatious goading get to her that way. They had to speak. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly, gathering her wits and her courage about her. When she felt steady enough, she caught and held his gaze.

“Ye cannae mention what happened between us at the inn. Nae tae anybody,” she said firmly. “It must be our secret, Maddox.”

An amused and mischievous glimmer sparkled in his eyes that she didn’t care for. Not one little bit. It sent a tremor of fear through her heart.

“Our secret, eh?”

“’Tis nae the time fer games,” she said. “I’m bein’ serious.”

“I can see that. But tell me this, why’d ye kiss me in the first place?”

“Ye kissed me.”

“And ye kissed me back,” he teased.

Emmeline was flustered, her thoughts scattered. “I didnae ken who ye were.”

“Dae ye make it a habit of kissin’ strangers then?”

His tone was light and jesting, which only made her cheeks flush hotter and her heart pound harder in her breast. The man was impossible.

“’Tis nae what I meant,” she hissed. “And ye ken that.”

“Perhaps. But perhaps nae,” he replied. “I didnae ken who ye were either. But I could tell ye liked the kiss. Ye liked it a lot, in fact.”

She ground her teeth together. “Stop it. I’m nae playin’ around with ye.”

The smirk slipped from his face, replaced by a serious expression more befitting the situation, Emmeline was relieved to see.

“Relax, lass,” he said. “I’d nae plans tae share what happened with yer husband.”

“’Tis good. Because he’s a cruel, vengeful, and jealous man. If he found out what happened, he’d have us both killed,” she said.

“That would be a disagreeable end tae what was a lovely kiss.”

“Stop it.”

“Just admit ye liked it,” he said.

“I will say nay such thing. ‘Tis inappropriate.”

“Some might say kissin’ a stranger is inappropriate. But here we are, conspirin’ taegather tae keep it a secret.”

“I’m nae conspirin’. I’m askin’ ye tae hold yer tongue.”

“Aye. Otherwise kent as conspirin’ tae keep a secret.”

Emmeline opened her mouth to respond then closed it again, too flustered to speak. She turned away and took a moment to collect herself again. The man was infuriating. And he had a way of getting her tongue tied and making her trip over her own words that was uncommon. Emmeline believed herself to be a sharp thinker and quick on her feet but something about Maddox made her feel like she was running through mud and struggling to keep up. He clouded her thoughts, threw her emotions into such a state of turmoil that she always felt back on her heels.

The effect he had on her baffled Emmeline. It frustrated her. At the same time though, there was a small piece of her that found it exhilarating, challenging and, somehow, even intellectually stimulating. It seemed so long since somebody had provided that sort of mental and emotional hurdles that Emmeline wasn’t sure how to react. She needed that sort of stimulation and never received it from her husband. It confounded her.

“All ye have tae dae is admit ye liked it and it’ll be our little secret forever,” he said.

“Why must ye be such a boorish man?”

He shrugged. “’Tis me nature, I suppose.”

“Ye’re infuriatin’.”

“’Tis nae the first time I’ve heard that. Just admit it. Ye liked kissin’ me.”

Emmeline stamped her foot and folded her arms over her chest, glaring hard at the man. He grinned devilishly at her, clearly enjoying her torment. She gritted her teeth. Though tempted to not give in to the man, she knew there was only one way to end this game.

“Fine,” she snapped. “I liked it. Happy now?”

He grinned. “Aye. Happy now.”

“So, this will remain our secret then, eh?”

Maddox chuckled. “’Twas nae like I was goin’ tae tell anybody anyway. I ken yer husband wouldnae have been happy if he kent what happened. I’m nae a bleedin’ idiot.”

Her face grew hot as she gaped at him. “Then why in the bleedin’ hell did ye make me say what ye just made me say?”

“Because I wanted tae hear it straight from yer lips.”

“Ye’re an insufferable idiot.”

“’Tis nae the first time I’ve heard that either.”

She stamped her foot again as a frustrated growl burst from her throat. She looked away for a moment, her belly churning and her heart pounding against her ribs. She hated that he’d pulled that admission from her. Hated that he’d been able to make a game of the whole thing. She was going to give him a piece of her mind, but when she turned back to him, his expression had changed. The smarmy arrogance had faded, replaced by something more sober.

“I dinnae want tae marry her, ye ken. Cecilia,” he said. “I’ve asked yer husband tae reconsider sealin’ our pact that way. Tae settle it with me word. But he willnae budge. He’s insistin’ on bondin’ our clans through marriage.”

Emmeline’s heart lurched and she put a hand to her chest, trying to stave off the waves of emotion that battered her inside. She believed Maddox when he said he didn’t want to marry Cecilia and she believed that Burchard was forcing his hand. And it made her hate her husband all the more. Underneath that, though, she felt a current of something else. Jealousy. If she was being honest, she didn’t like the thought of Maddox marrying anybody at all, and she hated herself for feeling that way.

“I just want ye tae ken that if this marriage happens, I’ll be good tae her,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft. “I can see how much she means tae ye and I’m nae one tae mistreat a woman. ‘Tis nae me way.”

“She’s too young tae marry,” Emmeline said miserably.

“I agree with ye. But I need tae think of me people. And if this is the only way I can secure their future, I’ve nae got a choice in the matter.”

She sighed heavily. “I cannae tell ye how much I hate women bein’ used fer the games men play. ‘Tis nae right.”

“Again, I agree with ye. But these are the hands we’ve been dealt. We’ve got nay choice but tae play along,” he said. “I give ye me word though, I’ll nae mistreat her.”

“Bein’ forced tae marry ye is mistreatment enough. She’s too young tae be producin’ yer heirs,” Emmeline grumbled.

“I’ve got nay intention of makin’ her produce me heirs. I’ve got nay intention of beddin’ her. Nae until she’s old enough tae understand and consent… well, until she’s old enough. And if she daesnae consent, be assured I’ll never force her tae dae anythin’.”

“Why would ye promise that? She’d be yer wife. Yer property.”

His face grew stony. “Because I dinnae think of a woman as property.”

His words surprised her. Most men she knew would have leapt at the chance to bed a young virgin like Cecilia. It seemed to be a badge of honor among some. Burchard had been that way. He hadn’t hesitated to bed her and he had been rough about it. Nothing about their coupling had been kind or romantic. It had been nothing like she’d imagined as a girl when she thought of marrying. Just thinking about it now, made her skin crawl.

As she looked into Maddox’s eyes though, she saw his sincerity. She believed him when he said he had no intention of bedding Cecilia. Not while she was so young. It was insane. She did not know him and had no reason to believe him and yet, she did. She sensed that beneath his gruff and rugged exterior was a kindness she wasn’t used to seeing in men. Very few men in her life had ever been gentle with her. And though he swaggered and blustered like many of them, Emmeline sensed something far different in Maddox.

He was a contradiction. An enigma. The more she learned about him the less sense he made. He was a puzzle to her and if there was one thing Emmeline loved, it was solving puzzles. She loved taking disparate pieces and putting them together. She had a keen analytical mind that allowed her to see the patterns and figure out how something worked. Maddox MacLachlan was something different though, and she saw no discernible patterns. She had no idea how he worked.

“I’d rather nae marry her, but I’ll take good care of her, Emmeline. I’ll be good tae her.”

She nodded. “I believe ye. And I thank ye fer yer kindness.”

Their gazes lingered on each other and the air between them crackled with the tension of unspoken words. She felt like there was more he wanted to say but was holding himself back. That he would not give in to the emotion she saw in his eyes. It was something she could relate to. All too well, in fact. Emmeline cleared her throat and patted her hair, straightening up and putting a proper, appropriate expression befitting the lady of the keep on her face.

“We should go,” she said. “I thank ye fer speakin’ with me.”

“Emmeline—”

His words were thick with the same emotion she saw in his face and Emmeline knew she could not hear his words. If she did, she feared her resolve would crumble and she would give in to the wants and desires flowing through her veins hotter than fire, filling her with a heat she knew was entirely inappropriate.

“I must go,” she said.

Turning quickly, she opened the door to the privy and ran face first into the hard, broad chest of the man standing in the corridor. She gasped and looked up, finding herself staring into the narrow green eyes of Lorn MacMillan, her husband’s war leader. She watched his eyes cut from her to Maddox who stood in the doorway of the privy behind her.

“Me lady,” Lorn said, his voice gruff and gravelly. “Me laird.”