Page 4 of Taken By the Highland Villain
“They say his home is so gloomy that it might be cursed.Hemight be cursed. It isnae a place I would venture, nor would any woman or man with good sense.”
The conversation was interesting, even the snippets Valerie caught while she searched through fabric bundles. It was even somewhat amusing to think of how the rumors might have grown with the tale, for surely a man could not be so ill-tempered as they were making him out to be.
Suddenly, a hand fell on her shoulder, and an oily, all-too-familiar voice murmured in her ear, “Shopping for the fabric of yer weddin’ dress already? It is a welcome change to see ye behavin’ like an obedient bride.”
Heart pounding in her ears, Valerie turned to face Laird MacOlley. How he had discovered she was there, she had no idea, but the sight of him, for the second time that day, made her stomach churn.
Does the man have nothing better to do than stalk and harass me?
She forced a smile onto her face, even as she stepped away from his grubby hand. The other women, she noted, had dispersed like leaves in the wind, leaving her to face her tormentor alone.
She could appreciate the wisdom of their actions, even if a part of her wished that at least one of them had stayed nearby.
“I am indeed shopping, My Laird, but I’m nae yer bride just yet.”
“But ye will be. Only seven days before our union is official, nay? So there’s nay reason to protest. Soon, we will be together.” The way his voice curled over the words made her shudder in disgust. “Is that nae correct, my dear?”
“It is. I… I am just… lookin’ forward to the alliance between our clans and our kinfolk. I suppose I’m a bit overwhelmed by the idea…”
Laird MacOlley laughed, and the sound made her cringe inwardly. “Och, my dear. It isnae thealliancethat I’m anticipating, and ye should be thinking more of the wedding night than the formalities. Do ye nae agree?”
“I… hadnae thought about it.”
I didnae want to think about it at all.
Valerie kept that thought to herself.
“Ye should. I assure ye, I am looking forward to it withgreatanticipation.” Laird MacOlley leaned in, his lips brushing her ear as he murmured the last words, a mocking parody of a kiss.
The leering expression that came over his handsome features, before he stepped back and smoothed them into that mask of polite good humor, made her want to empty the contents of her stomach.
She watched him walk away, exiting the shop with his usual lazy stride, and clenched her hands around the basket she held.
Enough was enough. It didn’t matter where—she had to find somewhere to escape the man, even if it was only for three or four days. She didn’t care if she had to commandeer the weather-worn hulk of one of her father’s old ships, if she had to become a pirate wench, or if she had to row across the sea in a leaky, old lifeboat—she would escape. Even living with wild beasts was preferable.
An idea came to her then.
Valerie turned to the traveling seamstress. “Ye mentioned a man in need of a seamstress—a beast that ye wouldnae dare to approach. Tell me his name.” A small, tight smile curved her mouth. “I think I would like to try my luck with him.”
CHAPTER 3
“Och,Moira, leave those alone. And stop fussin’ over me, woman. I dinnae need or want it.” Jude scowled at the old, gray-haired maid currently flitting about his study as if it were her private chamber, rather than his.
Moira gave him a reproachful look in turn, ignoring the growl in his voice with the ease of long practice and utter confidence in her position.
“It is a nice day out, My Laird. Drawin’ the curtains and lettin’ in some sunshine would do ye a fair bit of good…” She gave him a motherly smile and continued to tug at the heavy draperies that obscured the windows and cast the entire room in gloom.
The only light came from thin gaps in the curtains—no wider than the edge of a blade—the sullen fire on the hearth, and the candles on his desk.
Moira’s eyes flicked around the room to the shadowed corners, then back to him in clear disapproval. Jude scowled back.
Blast the woman. I ken she stayed because she was Maither’s friend, and she helped raise me, but I’m past the age when I need a woman actin’ as my nursemaid. And she’s always so damn determined to try and lift my spirits… as if aught could.
Nothing has ever lifted my spirits. Nae since that day.
Jude rubbed at his knee, feeling the thick scar beneath his trews, and leveled a sullen glare at the maid as she tugged on the drapes once more.
“I said, leave them be. If I wanted sunlight and the like, I’d draw them myself,” he snarled. “Go on, I’m sure ye have other things to do.”