CHAPTER NINE
W ith ease, he lifted her into the saddle and quickly swung up behind her. The lass was shivering, perhaps from the wind, perhaps from that intense encounter they had had. Either way, it unsettled him.
He unpinned the length of plaid, unwound it from his hip and then draped it over her shoulder. She reached up to tighten the wrap before craning her head over her shoulder. “Thank ye.”
Nodding curtly, he reached around her body to grasp the reins and to his surprise, she leaned back against him.
Ruben tried to ignore their closeness and forced himself to disregard the soft scent wafting from her golden curls. He sat rigid.
She smells like a meadow of wildflowers.
The ride to his castle had felt endless, and it had been mostly spent in silence. He felt that, more than anything, she hated riding with him because she still saw him as a beast.
He wanted to give her a distraction so he purposely rode along the shoreline, down a beaten path to the sea.
He rode dangerously close to the rush of the water; Goliath had been this way hundreds of times and was sure-footed enough that he could navigate the terrain.
“What—” she grabbed at him, eyes wide with fright, “What are ye doing?”
“Scared, lass?” he teased. “With how ye were at the weddin’, I "I thought ye were a statue of Brigid herself".
Paige shoved herself into his chest, her eyes wide, pulse jumping widely. She scrabbled to get ahold of anything, of the horse, the saddle, and finally, she grabbed at him. Her nails sunk into his forearm.
“I am nae—” she swallowed. “I am nae fond of how dangerously close we are to the edge of the cliffs.”
“Ah, I see,” the wind tugged at her hair, sending it in tangles around her face.
With the barest twitch of his leg, the horse took another step forward and the jolt made the lass go as white as death. He scolded himself on teasing the lass and steered Goliath back to the road.
“Can ye swim, lass?” he asked.
“Nay,” she said quietly but at least her pulse was not pounding out of her skin.
“Ye’re goin’ to learn here,” he said.
She craned her head to look over her shoulder. “That doesnae sound like a suggestion.”
He snapped the reins. “That’s because it’s nae a suggestion. T’is an order. Ye will need to learn how to swim in these lands for yer own survival and I need to ken ye can handle yerself with any sudden surprise.”
Paige faced forward, her mouth pressed into a line.
The sky was iron grey, and low rumbles of thunder held a constant threat of rain as they rode west back to the castle. She turned a wary eye to the sky then back to the road, “Does the weather change so quickly in these lands?”
“Aye,” he said. “At times, it’s as fickle as a feather in the wind.”
She went quiet again, “Will ye tell me what happened with yer sister, Norah? Why was she taken? Did ye find out who took her?”
Ruben stiffened. “Why are ye askin’?”
“I want to ken,” she said. “Is that a bad thing?”
“T’is none of yer business what happened with Norah,” Ruben’s tone was harsh and brooked no further questions. “Yer place is to be quiet and play the subservient mouse so the claws of the Crown willnae hook into us.”
The defiance in her eyes made him want to shake some sense into her.
“When ye get to the keep, it will best if ye go to yer chambers,” he told her as the horse took the incline to the castle.
Paige turned her head towards the castle, her expression hardening with resolve. Ruben was not affected whatsoever; as far as he was concerned, she was simply a means to an end.
Hopping off the horse, he got her down and said, “Go inside. The rain is comin’. Ye daenae want to get sick.”
She hesitated for a moment, her lips parted for a moment but then she clamped them shut. Spinning around, she marched up the steps, and vanished beyond the door with not one look behind her.
Goliath turned to him and snorted.
“Aye, I ken. Be glad ye daenae have stubborn mares to put up with.” Ruben said.
But what happens when ye need to consummate the marriage?
“I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it…” he muttered while gesturing for a waiting stable boy. “Make a quick run, lad. Ye daenae want to be trapped in this rain.”
“Aye, me laird,” the boy said, hurrying off.
Casting a look to the sky, Ruben stepped into the hall and headed up to his rooms. He went to his war room, hoping that the archbishop had replied with his signature and seal. Hopefully, if it was there, he could send the copy off to MacPherson so he could focus on more important things.
What am I goin’ to tell the lass when she asks about Norah again without breakin’ me sister’s privacy? And she will ask, that’s a given.
There was nothing on his table and he sunk to the chair with a grumble. Leaning forward, he covered his face with both hands, the rough calluses scraping his skin.
He could already see the revulsion and pain in her eyes when he did approach her consummate the marriage. The lass would not want him to touch her, she would be rigid as a board, still as death itself. She despised him.
How much were these gentleladies so very different from the sort of females he’d known in his past? In the past, his sexual exchanges had one purpose, to sate his needs.
A laird has many duties. Fighting and defending his land was one that Ruben excelled in. But there was another duty he had been able to ignore while his brother lived. Securing the line of succession.
Begetting heirs was to some minds the most important duty of a laird. Afterall, what could be more crucial than securing the future of the clan for another generation?
The best he could do was to treat it as a quick and necessary duty and not make her feel too awful about what he had to do to her.
“It has to be done…” he sighed, rubbing his face. “Sooner than later.”
Maybe it was a good thing the archbishop hasn’t sent his seal yet. They had a little more time yet.
Paige loathed Laird Ruben McKinnon with every fiber of her being but even knowing the vile things he did to her clan years ago… she couldn’t help but question herself.
“He ordered the caretakers to teach the orphans to read,” she muttered to herself. “How much of an animal can he be if he can do such a kind thing?”
She could not make heads or tails about the man. All she knew was that the man gave orders but did not deign to answer question.
“Me lady,” Maisie knocked on the door. “The lads are comin’ with yer bath water.”
As she waited, she wrapped her arms around her middle. “Maisie, ye’ve lived in these lands for a while, correct?”
“Aye, I did,” Maisie said. “From I was ten summers after me maither moved here.”
Slumping to a seat, Paige grasped the skirts of her dress in numb fingers. “How…how was Laird McKinnon?”
Frowning, Maisie asked, “What do ye mean?”
“Was he always this…” Paige was not sure how to frame her words. “… stiff-necked?”
Maisie sighed, “I wouldnae say he was such, but his maither died when he was a boy and then, when he was seven-and-ten, his father fell ill.
He had to take on the lairdship because his father’s cripplin’ sickness of the knees took him away from the front lines,” Maisie said. “He was a young man thrown into a sea of older lairds, more experienced and more cunnin’ than he.”
Paige was starting to understand, “He had to make sure they dinnae take advantage of him.”
“Aye,” Maisie said. “He pushed himself to excel at everythin’. He grew excel at strategy and he became a true warrior, trainin’ day and night, and nary a soul could best him. But then, his sister was abducted.”
Paige’s mouth twisted. “I asked him about that. He wouldnae tell me what happened. I daenae think he ever will.”
“She was abducted one night returnin’ from the orphanage where she used to volunteer to help.” Maisie said. “She’d been taken for six months, and his lairdship was frantic to find her alive. He’d turned ruthless in those days, vowin’ to raze the world to the ground to find her.
Little by little, Paige began to understand the situation and the underlying reasons for why the laird was how he was. She shook her head. “What happened with his sister?”
“Nay one really kens,” Maisie shrugged. “The poor girl was taken and held for half a year, then she was found alone and bound in a field. I am afraid I daenae ken any more about that.”
Paige could not help but feel some sympathy for the young woman, surely that had to be heartbreaking and horrible. She could not imagine what such a thing could feel.
Maybe that encounter with the laird who had taken advantage of him had turned him into another vile monster who took advantage of others.
Shaking her head, Paige vowed to show sympathy to the girl when she met her, but she would keep her distance from the laird. She knew she would never like the man, much less love him. The best she could hope was for some variation of civility.
Even that is dubious.
Paige waited for Maisie to leave before she went to the doorway leading to Ruben’s chambers. She did not hear anything coming from them so perhaps he was not inside.
She still did not understand the flutter in her belly when Ruben touched her, but as she disrobed and sunk into the waiting tub with a sigh, she couldn’t help but want to experience it again. The warm water was heavenly, but the knowledge of what was coming made it hard to fully relax.
“I’m nae entirely sure that is a good thing…” she muttered.
Surely there is a way to get out of this horrible nightmare.
“Paige, dear, ye cannae keep hidin’ away from yer husband,” Daisy said fretfully. “T’is nae the best way to start yer marriage.”
“This is nae a marriage, Mama,” Paige shook her head as she reached for her nettle tea. “It’s a mockery of one. Besides, I am sure me husband doesnae want me around him at all.”
Her mother’s face fell with disappointment. “Paige, ye cannae perpetuate the rift between ye two. Ye need to make an effort to be more amenable to him, to be open and come to a?—”
“Nae when he murdered me cousin.” Paige bristled. “Elijah should be alive now but he isnae because of him. How do I make peace with such…such a beast?”
“Paige,” her mother said aghast. “Ye cannae say such a thing.”
“I will never forgive him for what he did to Elijah,” she said strongly. “Me cousin should be alive and with his family now. He should be alive now, married, have his children and be enjoyin’ his life.”
Daisy reached out for her and held her hand, “Me daughter, peace doesnae come easily. It will nae come unless someone decides to sacrifice for it.
“I am sorry ye had to be the one it comes through but please, try to make the best of it. Please, give yerself the chance to understand yer husband and give him the chance to understand ye.
“Nay one is as bad ye think they are,” Daisy said, “Can ye nae see that? I ken ye must have seen somethin’ in the man that resonates with ye.”
He wants the orphans to read. That should count for somethin’.
“Nae enough to count,” she said stubbornly.
Looking around, Daisy shook her head. “Ye’ve been locked into this room for the past two days, Paige. I think being so cloistered in here is affectin’ ye. We should take a walk and get some fresh air.”
“Maither—”
“Nay, Paige,” Daisy’s voice sharpened. “Come along.”
It took them a while to navigate the corridors in the massive keep, but eventually they managed to leave through one of the many backdoors.
They bypassed outbuilding, smokehouses, many vegetable gardens were there, and she saw servants plucking weeds from the rows. She nodded to a few that met her eye and mustered a smile. They rounded the back lands and storehouse then came up extensive and training field.
She could already see the formations. Over to the left, young squires, mere boys, were running with buckets of water to increase arm strength, while older squires were sparring with wooden swords.
To the far right, Ruben was with fifteen warriors. Thirteen of them were on the sideline, watching him battle two, probably waiting their time to enter the field.
Ruben’s dark hair seemed to absorb the bright mid-morning sunlight, and she swallowed tightly at the sight of him. It was one thing sensing how hard his body was during their rides, but to see it directly was another.
His tall, broad-shouldered form was bare-chested. Clad in only breeks that covered from knee to waist, his muscled, battle-scarred chest unexpectedly sent her heart into a fluster. She had thought his chest would be covered with hair—but no, it was bare.
His hand flexed over the hilt of the massive claymore and dragging her eyes from his hand, she spotted his face, and her breath stalled in her chest.
She did not see his eyes but did see the thick line of his lowered brows leading to his regal nose. His lips were flattened in a line, and she wondered what he was displeased about.
He squared his shoulders and lifted the sword to the two men facing him. He then dropped into a stance and lunged; the two men did not leap out of the way, and she realized he was teaching them.
The morning wore on as they engaged in a battery of military exercises. He and the men sparred fiercely, but Ruben showed the men no mercy, sending more than half of them to the ground.
“I think I’ll head back inside,” her mother said, while touching her arm. “Remember what I said about makin’ peace in yer marriage.”
Paige bit her tongue. She did not want to tell her mother that she knew, deep down in her bones, that such a thing was not possible. The only words she could find were, “Get some rest.”
Standing within the courtyard gates, she watched another warrior spar with Ruben. He blocked Ruben’s lunges, and possessed a speed that made her eyes widen. He fought with an uncanny instinct that had Ruben on the defensive as well.
Eventually a small crowd that near the gate but none of them— most servants—stayed for long. They hurried off to their duties, men holding boxes, women with clean washing in hand.
A woman dressed in healer garb with a basket of herbs perched on her hip lingered there as well before moving on.
“Me lady,” a passing servant lad bowed and hurried by.
As if pulled by a lodestone, Paige stepped closer and closer to the training ground. Ruben was about twenty feet from her, but she was far away from any sword flying out of bounds.
She watched Ruben so intensely that she was having a hard time concentrating on anything other than his body. All his muscles clenched and bunched while he fought against each of his men.
The two clashed and Ruben flung his sword up to block the blow his opponent delivered. The man’s sword sliced down in a high arc and came down over Ruben’s head in a killing strike. Ruben shifted to the right—and her hand flew to her breast as panic tightened her throat.