Page 10 of Taken by the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #2)

He scared her.

Jude could feel the tension and the slight tremor in Valerie’s frame where she stood behind him. He kept his gaze trained on the other man, however, despite how much he wanted to turn and ensure that Valerie wasn’t hurt.

Up close, he could observe other details beyond his opponent’s height, build, and neat appearance. Such as the expensive fabric the man wore and the torc around his neck.

It took Jude a long moment to recognize him, but when he did, his mood soured further. “What are ye doin’, botherin’ my seamstress, Nathan Cullen? Ye’ve yer own lands to be lookin’ after.”

Laird MacOlley glared at him, but before he could reply, Valerie stepped around Jude, putting herself between them with a bright, false smile.

“Och, dinnae be silly, My Laird. He wasnae troublin’ me.” Her laughter as she swatted at his arm was as forced as her smile. “And I never would have guessed that such a dour man as ye would make such jokes. Imagine, threatenin’ to kill a man for nothing… Ye must be teasin’ me.”

“I wasnae.” Jude meant to say more, but she’d already turned to face Laird MacOlley.

“It was a surprise to see ye here, My Laird, but good to ken that ye’re nearby. But surely, I shouldnae keep ye from yer business at the market?”

She was trying to protect him. Jude had no idea what she was trying to protect him from, but it was clear she was trying to prevent an altercation.

The realization soured his mood further.

Does she think I wouldnae fight for her? Or that I cannae protect her because I am a cripple?

He wanted to wrap his arm around her and pull her to safety, but it was clear from her actions and her words that she had no desire to be protected and hidden away like a child. Instead, he leaned closer, claiming her attention once more.

“Never mind keepin’ him from his business; ye said ye were goin’ to show me some softer fabrics ye think would suit my needs. Ye wanted to come to the market to find cloth that wouldnae irritate my scars, did ye nae? Ye’ll nae find it talkin’ to the likes of him.”

The words were harsher than he had intended, but he saw from the relief in her eyes and the barely concealed gratitude that she understood his intention and appreciated it.

“Of course. If ye’ll excuse me, My Laird.”

“Of course. I wouldnae want to delay ye.” The oily smile Nathan Cullen offered Valerie made Jude want to backhand him across the market. “I will be waiting here in a few days, my dear, to escort ye home when ye’ve finished yer work.”

“Och, ye dinnae need to?—”

Jude interrupted, anger and an odd sense of possessiveness coiling in his belly and coating his words as he glowered at the other man.

“Ye’ll be leavin’ when I say ye’re done, lass, and nae before.

And as for an escort, I expect to hear from yer friend afore he enters my lands next time, nae after.

Otherwise, I’m likely to take it as an attack. ”

He had the satisfaction of seeing some of the color drain from Nathan’s face.

“Of course. I wouldnae dream of intruding any further.” His lips curved upward, contempt and cold malice slithering under the surface of a courteous smile.

“However, I must correct ye on one matter, Laird MacFinn. Valerie Blackwood isnae my friend. She is my future wife, so it is only reasonable for me to wish to see her safe. Ye must understand.”

“I understand ye all too well.” Jude curled his lip, a little more menace coloring his expression as he glared at the man. “But ye’ve nothin’ to be concerned about here.”

Nathan’s smile faltered for a moment, then he nodded and turned away without another word.

Jude watched him go with a scowl.

That man’s goin’ to be trouble.

He turned back to Valerie, but she was already stepping away in pursuit of the cloth merchant, who had wisely made himself scarce at the beginning of the confrontation between the three of them.

Jude limped after her. “Wait.”

Valerie stopped, and he stumbled to a stop beside her. She refused to turn to face him, but he saw the tears shimmering in her brilliant green eyes. He hesitated a moment, then reached out and touched her shoulder.

He half-expected her to pull away, but she leaned into his touch instead.

Jude reached up with his other hand and gently wiped a tear from her face. “That man… was he the reason ye wanted to come work for me?”

“I wanted to help ye. That man…” Valerie paused, then shook her head and wiped the tears from her face with an impatient gesture. “Some people can be too demanding and insistent about what they want. That’s all I care to say on the matter.”

With that, she gently freed herself from his grasp and made her way to the merchant’s stall.

Jude followed after her, his mind full of questions, and a warmth he was reluctant to name filling his chest.

The merchant had nearly a full store of cloth, and Valerie browsed through it with a sense of pleasure, her hands trailing over soft linens, sturdy cottons, and double-woven wools with delight.

He also had dozens of different colors, and whole bolts of undyed linen and wool that could be patterned and colored any way she liked.

So many choices—it was a welcome distraction from the exchange she’d just endured with Laird MacOlley, and the emotions it had evoked.

There was the fear of realizing he’d found her once more, followed by the dull despair of feeling trapped.

Then, there was the surge of relief she’d felt when Jude had come to her aid, followed by the twisting panic when she realized he might wind up injured because of her.

She appreciated that he wanted to protect her, but she refused to allow anyone, be they a stranger or kinfolk, to be wounded for her sake. Especially when she was already imposing on him for sanctuary from Laird MacOlley’s unwanted demands.

The conflicting feelings that tangled inside her head and her heart were difficult to sort out, and any excuse to set them aside was much appreciated.

Valerie quickly discarded the fabrics that were too bright for Jude’s taste, keeping her choices to browns, greens, a few darker reds or blues, and the occasional swatch of black.

Of the last color, she mostly chose the softest fabrics she could find, intending for them to be the linings of the new trews, leggings, and kilts she planned to make.

The merchant had an array of threads as well, and Valerie gathered an assortment of those, choosing them to match the colors of the fabrics or as a pleasant contrast. There were some skeins dyed in the blue, red, and green of Clan MacFinn, and she purchased almost all of those.

She was browsing through the last of the piles when she happened upon a bolt of silk.

It was dyed in variegated hues of green and blue, swirling like water rippling through a mossy stream bed.

The silk had a delicate sheen she knew she could never match, and it felt soft and smooth as a week-old kitten’s fur.

It was beautiful, the sort of fabric she would use to make a dress for a proper lady. Or perhaps the sort of fabric she might have used to make a wedding dress for one of her sisters.

After a moment, she turned away. It was a gorgeous fabric, but she couldn’t imagine making anything for Jude with it, and she had no idea what else she might use it for.

To her surprise, Jude was a step behind her. Without a word, he reached past her into the pile and extracted the fabric she’d been looking at. He turned and carried it over to the merchant, still without looking at her. “Add this to whatever the lady purchases here.”

Valerie flushed. “I dinnae need?—”

“It is me ye’re makin’ purchases for, and I’ll decide if ye need or dinnae need something.” Jude shrugged his shoulders and strode past her, back out into the main street.

Valerie watched him go, warmth, amusement, and a sense of safety she hadn’t expected to feel loosening the cold knot that had filled her chest from the moment she’d heard Laird MacOlley’s voice at her back.

Some of the tension left her shoulders, and her heart was light as she turned to bargain with the cloth merchant for her purchases.

It took almost every silver left in the pouch Jude had given her, but she was able to acquire everything she had set aside, along with the bolt of water-colored silk.

By the time she had finished bargaining, two men wearing MacFinn tartan had arrived from the castle, directed by Jude to assist with their purchases.

Valerie and the merchant loaded her purchases on the horses they’d brought, and one of the men nodded respectfully to her before he left. “My Laird said he would be in the tavern, waitin’ for ye when ye’re done.”

“Thank ye.” Valerie smiled and made her way to the tavern.

She found Jude sitting inside, at a table near the window. His seat was shrouded in shadow, but his position gave him an excellent view of the street. Two plates of bread, mutton, and hard cheese sat in front of him, along with two mugs of what turned out to be fruit cordial.

The moment he spotted her, he waved her to the seat. “I had them make a plate for ye.”

“Thank ye.” Valerie took a long sip of the cordial, glad to drink something after having talked her throat dry. “I…”

“Eat.” Jude gestured to the plate.

Valerie took several bites, and the rest of the ache in her gut eased. Once she felt sated and her throat was no longer sore, she slowed her pace and looked up at her tablemate. “Thank ye for the fabric.”

“It wasnae much.” Jude shrugged his shoulders again, looking away.

“It matters, even so. Besides, I also wanted to thank ye for dealin’ with that man earlier.” Heat rose in her cheeks, a blush born of equal parts embarrassment and uncertainty, but she forced herself not to look away. “It is the first time I’ve ever seen him worried or scared.”

Jude snorted. “His sort dinnae have any courage for a confrontation with someone of their strength or greater. I assume that ye never saw him face down a beast.”

Valerie laughed, surprised by the dry quip. “I admit, yer beard is wild enough that it does make ye look fierce.”

“Does it?” Jude frowned.

But any response she might have given was cut off by the appearance of the barmaid. Jude drained his tankard and set it down, then handed over some coppers.

Once the barmaid had left again, he turned his attention back to Valerie, his brow furrowed.

“I confess I was surprised to hear that ye’re gettin’ married, particularly to a man like that.

Ye dinnae seem to care for him that much, especially given how much ye appreciated seein’ him set back on his heels. ”

Valerie flushed. “’Tis nae what ye think. He may talk about being my future husband, but there’s nay real agreement—just his insistence that things be as he wants them to be, regardless of what anyone else wants.”

Jude’s expression didn’t change. “Then why nae send him packing? Ye’re stubborn enough—tell him ye’ve nay interest, instead of flattering him and making excuses and dancing around him like ye think he’ll bite. He’s a bastard, nae a rabid dog.”

Valerie’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “Are ye sure about that? I’m nae.” Then, she shook her head, dispelling her thoughts. “I appreciate that ye came to my aid and defended me from him today, but even so…”

“Why can ye nae tell him to get lost and take his attentions elsewhere?” Jude’s eyes glinted with what she thought might be humor. “And if ye think he’s a rabid dog, why nae put him out of his misery?”

“I have my reasons.” She saw him open his mouth and shook her head. “Come now, My Laird, ye cannae demand answers if ye’re nae willing to give any in return. I might tell ye more about what’s between me and Laird MacOlley if ye tell me where and how ye were injured.”

Jude scowled. “’Tis nae of any importance. Nae a story to tell every seamstress who comes wanderin’ into my castle.” Valerie raised a pointed eyebrow at him, and after a moment, he relented with a huff. “Yer point is made.”

They lapsed into silence, and Valerie took the opportunity to concentrate on her food. Jude seemed content for her to take her time while he sat and watched the patrons of the inn and the folk in the square with a casually attentive gaze.

He waited for her to finish her meal, then rose. “’Tis time to go back. Yer purchases should be waiting for ye when we arrive.”

Valerie nodded and followed him, her heart lighter than it had been since her first encounter with Nathan Cullen months ago.

Nathan Cullen, the Laird of Clan MacOlley, watched with a scowl on his handsome features as Valerie Blackwood and Jude Reid, the Laird of Clan MacFinn, ate together.

He saw the way Valerie smiled at her companion, and anger boiled within him.

Valerie. She was his Valerie. The masterpiece that would perfect his collection of priceless artwork. She was beautiful as the painting that hung in his study, perfection embodied, and he would have her.

Laird MacFinn…

Nathan snorted. The man was a brute, a beast. He had no right to even look at such an exquisite being as Valerie Blackwood, much less talk to her or touch her. And he certainly had no right to try and claim her attentions or take her away.

No matter what he had to do, no matter what it took, he would bring Valerie to his castle. He would claim her as his wife.

And if anyone tried to stop him, whether it was Laird MacFinn, her sister’s brute of a husband, or Valerie herself, well…

I will burn the Highlands to ashes, along with her, everyone she loves, and everyone she kens, afore I allow anyone else to claim her.