Page 4 of Claimed by the Obsessed Laird (Highland Bride Hunt #1)

Chapter Three

“Come,” he ordered her, and she cast a furious look over her shoulder at him.

Isla crossed her arms over her chest, staring at Camron as she stood next to the carriage.

Above her, the sky was still dark and spattered with dusklight peeking out between the grayish clouds.

The music from the feast the night before was still playing in her ears, a reminder of the jollity that she had felt when she had arrived.

And all the excitement she doubted she would ever feel again.

“I’m no’ getting in!”

Could he not see that she wanted to bid farewell to her sister? She might never get a chance to see her again after this, not if the McLeod Keep was so far from where they stood now. Could he not at least grant her the kindness of saying a true farewell to her?

But Catriona smiled at her from the entrance, tears glossing her eyes, and nodded for her to leave. Isla wanted to plead with her to ask her to stay a little longer, but she doubted it would have saved her. Whatever fate was waiting for her outside this Keep, she had no choice but to embrace it.

Even if she could hardly think of anything in the world worse than letting this entitled, demanding man get what he wanted.

Camron pushed a hand through his hair and let out a frustrated sigh.

“We must leave now if we’re to make it to the Keep before the sun sets,” he told her firmly. “Ye have everything ye need, aye?”

“Apart from a betrothed who’ll treat me with an ounce of respect,” she muttered, and a flash of anger showed in his eyes.

She knew it was childish, but she rather liked that she could get under his skin. He might have thought that he had the command of her, but she would not make it quite so easy for him to twist her around his finger and bend her to his commands.

“Why dinnae ye get in first?” she remarked. “If it’s such a lovely carriage to ride in…”

"I’ll be taking my horse."

He reached for the steed that stood at the front of the carriage, slapping a hand on its glossy black neck.

She almost laughed, incredulous. “So, ye’ll no’ even ride with me back to yer Keep?” she demanded. "What kind of husband does that make ye?”

“I’m no’ yer husband yet, lass,” he reminded her.

For a second, she thought she saw a chance to unpick everything and convince him that this was utterly mad, that he should allow her to go back to her father and sister.

There was no waver in his voice, though; no suggestion that he was not entirely sure about what he was doing.

She might have wanted to believe that there was still a way out of this, but every second that passed, it was becoming clearer and clearer that she had no such thing.

“Then let us talk,” she implored him. "Ride wi’ me in the carriage, won’t ye?”

“I’m sure ye’re just as well on yer own,” he replied, and he turned to his guards. “See that she makes it to the carriage, aye?”

And, with that, he made his way to his horse, leaving her standing there and seething in her beautiful dress from last night.

She could hardly believe how cold he was, how distant.

If he wanted to marry her, didn’t he want to know what kind of woman he would be taking on as his wife?

He seemed to hardly give a damn about her.

She was only a trophy for him, a wife that he could point to and prove that he was as fine a laird as any other.

He made his way to his horse, and his men took a step towards her.

She shot a furious look at the two of them before they could so much as lay a hand on her and climbed into the carriage under her own steam.

She would not let him bundle her into the thing as though he was kidnapping her from the side of the road.

She still had a little dignity left, though it felt like that was swiftly fading as she slammed the door shut behind her.

A few moments later, the wheels of the carriage rumbled into motion beneath her, the sound of hooves on the stony ground below filling the air.

And, just like that, they were on their way.

She cast one last look back at the McFadden Keep, wondering if it was possible to go back in time and warn herself not to set foot in the place before it was too late.

But, as it was, she knew she had no choice but to contend with what lay ahead of her. And the best she could do in that moment was to stew in her outrage that this man would not so much as ride with her after he had decided to take her as his wife.

Was this what she could expect from him, she wondered, now that they were to be wed?

Would he keep his distance from her, refuse to speak with her?

Though she had not much dreamed of a marriage before, she had always thought that she would be with a man who enjoyed her company, not one who merely put up with it for the sake of keeping up appearances.

As the misty road dragged out beneath them, she flicked her gaze to the man in question.

Camron McLeod. She turned the name over in her head, testing it, trying to see what it felt like to think of herself as his wife.

She knew nothing of him, of course, except that he had coin enough to make this union palatable to her father. And what he looked like.

And the way it had felt when his eyes had landed on her across the room back in the Great Hall.

He rode with confidence, at least from what she could see through the window of the carriage.

The stallion he sat astride carried him with ease, as though the two had ridden this path many times together before.

Perhaps this was not his first time in attendance at such a matchmaking feast. Hadn’t there been other women that he had been willing to stake his name on?

He knew nothing of her, after all, and she could not very well imagine that there had not been some pretty young thing he’d thought about snapping up.

His hair whipped in the wind as he rode, his muscles flexing and tensing as he took control of the reins.

He was, in his way, rather handsome, even if his foul attitude had somewhat undone whatever charm she had found in him.

He looked the picture of a strapping Highland Laird with his sharp features, piercing eyes, and strong, lean musculature.

In any other situation, she was sure she would have been admiring him, but now?

Now, all she could think of was what an arse he was.

He wouldn’t even ride with her. He would claim her as his wife, yes, he would dance with her in front of a roomful of people, but he would not even do her the decency of sitting with her on this trip back to her new home?

He truly didn’t seem to care how she felt at all.

A fine omen for what was to come in their marriage…

Though she knew there would be more to their marriage than just how he spoke to her.

She was not so innocent as to think that she would not be expected to fulfill her wifely duties, and her mind could not help but drift to them as she watched him ride ahead of her.

The anger in her belly twisted with something darker, something hotter, something even more demanding, and she did her best to brush it aside.

She wouldn’t have to worry about that until they were wed, and surely, he would take some time to plan the wedding before he tossed her into the midst of her newfound union.

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared out of the window, trying to keep her gaze from drifting to him.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she’d have to ride alone before they came to a halt, but the way they had talked of it, the journey would take a while.

She had not eaten much, but her nerves were such that she could not have stomached anything even if it had been offered to her.

Eventually, after what felt like a lifetime, the carriage came to a halt.

She peered outside, trying to work out if they had made it to her new home, but it looked the same as every other stretch of road they had passed so far today.

She heard the driver and a couple of the guards murmuring to each other about taking a break, and she threw the door open, stepping out and welcoming the rush of cool air on her skin.

Her gaze soon landed on Camron, who had led his horse to a small burn that ran along the side of the path they were travelling to drink. He had a hand on its neck, and the sight of him being so kind to the creature when he would not spare her the same thing drove another flare of fury through her.

She stalked over to him, her eyes narrowed.

“Ye always leave yer guests to travel alone?”

He lifted his head slowly, apparently in no rush to assuage her discomfort.

“Ye hardly seem like ye are eager for my company.”

“But I’m yer wife!” she protested. “Don’t ye?—”

“Ye sound rather too impatient to become mine despite all yer objections,” he teased her, his voice dropping slightly as he straightened up.

The horse snorted, shaking the droplets of water from its muzzle, as if trying to break some of the tension between them.

“So ye brought me here to… to what?" she continued, unfazed. “To just wait on the day ye decide to start treating me as the Lady of yer clan?”

“We’ve no’ made it back to the Keep yet,” he pointed out, his voice infuriatingly calm.

She felt her jaw tense, teeth on edge. He seemed utterly at ease with everything that was going on here, and she couldn’t have loathed the feeling more.

“And how long will that be?” she asked, hands on her hips.

The flicker of a smile crossed his lips.

“You seem in a great rush to become my wife, lass?—”

“I just dinnae want to sit in that carriage alone any longer,” she huffed, pouting her lips together.

She saw no reason to be mature or careful in the way she spoke to him. If he wanted her as a bride, then he would have to take with it everything she had to offer. He was the one who had decided to claim her without getting to know her first. Now, he would learn what he had gotten himself into.

“And what would ye have me do if I were in there with ye?” he replied, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, ye could make some effort to get to know me, for one!” she exclaimed.

She noticed a couple of his men looking back at them and a few scattered chuckles at the sound of their disagreement. They were going to have to get used to it. She would not silence herself for the sake of making this man feel better.

“All alone together?” he remarked, shifting closer, that grin widening. “Ye’re sure that’s a good idea?”

“Won’t we be spending most of our time alone together once we’re married?” she responded. “Or are you going to let me seek company elsewhe?—”

Before she could finish what she was saying, his hand whipped out to grasp her wrist. His searing touch alone was enough to silence her, the sudden pressure of his fingers locked against her skin driving every sensible thought from her mind.

She parted her lips, intending to protest, but the words seemed to wither on her tongue, her throat suddenly dry as she stared at him.

“I’d be careful what ye say, lass,” he warned her. “Or I might no’ wait till the wedding to start treating ye as my wife, hmm?”

She swallowed hard. His eyes burned, even in this dim light, with a passion that she had never seen before.

Was this what she could expect from him when he became her husband?

The world seemed to have narrowed to the feel of his hand on her skin, his grip so intense she knew he could have convinced her to do anything he wanted.

For the briefest instant, all the fight seemed to drain out of her, and she imagined falling into his arms, letting him hold her and dance with her as he had back in the Great Hall.

Her heart thudded against her chest, picking up a pace she was not sure she could keep up with.

And then, she wrenched herself out of his grip, lifting her chin and glaring at him.

“Ye’ll do no such thing,” she retorted, and she lifted her skirts to make her way back to the waiting carriage.

Climbing inside without a fuss this time, she slammed the door behind her, making certain that he could hear it from where he was standing.

She realized, as she sank back into the leather seat, that she was trembling slightly. She could still feel the warmth of his fingers against her skin, as though he had branded her with a single touch.

His harsh words and his demands had only served to force her to dig her heels in even further. He wanted a wife, didn’t he? Well, she would be his wife. But that didn’t mean she had to be a good one, or a palatable one, or one he would want to spend any time around.

As the carriage pulled off once again, she felt a smile playing at the corner of her lips, her head dancing with a million ideas on how to make his life more difficult.

And, as she closed her eyes, she felt at peace for the first time since she had been faced with the sudden shock of her newfound engagement.

It might have been childish, and she might have only been making her life harder in the process, but this man would not get the simpering young wife he clearly thought he deserved.

No, he would get her in all of her glory. And he would soon come to learn what it meant to snatch up a woman without taking the time to get to know her. Soon, he would wish that he had picked anyone else from that fateful feast.

And perhaps she would find some way to enjoy the mess that she currently found herself standing in.