Page 17 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Bride
CHAPTER 17
Maisie awoke the next day feeling confused and disorientated from the night before.
When she inquired where James might be, he had already gone out to follow up with the rioters. He had left no instructions, so she assumed he would not return before nightfall.
Jean tried to cheer her up by attempting to tie her hair in a more intricate design. Maisie did not tell her it was to emulate Lillian’s—but her hair was too short to achieve it.
The dress box still sat in her room, alongside her father’s chessboard that had materialized there overnight. She suspected James had brought it in for her. She shook off the thought. She did not wish to dwell on him for any longer than she already had.
She was confused by the feelings he stimulated in her, and thinking back to their moment on the battlements only made her more confused. She hated the way he treated her sometimes, and yet she longed for them to be close like that again.
“Lillian mentioned that she was going shopping in town. Are there any bookstores there?” she asked Jean as the girl pinned the final piece into her hair.
“Aye, m’lady, a few, I ken ye are fond of readin’, are ye of a mind to go there today?”
“I think I might.”
“Ye shannae be wearin’ yer new gown then, it is a little fine for a stroll through town.”
I willnae be wearin’ it at all, she thought stubbornly, I dinnae need his gifts, I need him here.
“Thank ye, Jean, ye can place it somewhere safe for a finer occasion.”
Jean nodded and went over to place the box in the armoire.
“Would ye like to accompany me?” she asked impulsively. “Ye can show me round the town if ye can be spared here.”
Jean spun around with a huge smile. “I would love to, m’lady, I shall show ye all the best places. Let me tell Mrs. Murray and we can be away.”
“I shall meet ye in the courtyard,” Maisie said, and Jean scampered away, making Maisie smile.
The bright May sunshine raised her spirits as she walked to the castle gates. She felt elegant and poised as she stood there waiting for Jean. It was strange having servants scuttle out of her path and bow to her. She was not yet accustomed to her new status as Lady MacLennan.”
“Me lady!”
She turned to find Harris trotting up to her, his jovial face warm and happy. “Are ye headin’ somewhere? I would be happy to accompany ye.”
She smiled gratefully, noting the way the man was turned out. Whereas James was rugged and roguishly handsome, his clothing always a little untidy, Harris was immaculate. His beard and hair were perfectly groomed, his clothing meticulously in place.
“Thank ye, Harris, but Jean is accompanying me—ah, here she is now.”
Jean was coming down the steps of the castle. She looked very smart in her outdoor jacket. Maisie glanced at Harris, unsurprised to see him observing her greedily as she approached.
“So where are ye off to this fine mornin’?” Harris asked, his demeanor quite changed as he looked at Jean. He was a shy man, but clearly basked in her presence.
“Lady MacLennan is huntin’ for a new book,” Jean replied happily, giving Maisie an excited smile. “I am showin’ her all of the places in town that she should ken of.”
“Ah yes, me laird said ye were a bookworm, m'lady, if ye’ll pardon the expression.”
Maisie smiled curiously. Had James observed that, or had someone told him?
“Send a boy up with a coin if ye need the carriage to fetch ye, m’lady, and enjoy yer walk.” He gave them both a shallow bow, his eyes lingering on Jean as he turned away.
“We shall, thank ye, Harris,” Maisie replied.
They made their way out of the castle and Maisie kept quiet until they had walked far enough that their conversation would not be overhead.
“He clearly admires ye.”
“Yes, m’lady,” Jean said wistfully, surprising her. “I adore him, and he kens it.” Maisie laughed at her exasperated tone. “I have made it so plain that I would welcome his advances, yet he keeps so polite about me, I dinnae ken what to do.”
“Och, I am sure he is bidin’ his time. Perhaps we can injure ye somehow on the way into town, and he will have to come and collect ye gallantly from a ditch and claim yer heart.”
Jean let out a sharp squeal of laughter. “M’lady!”
Maisie chuckled, feeling the tension loosen from her body. She had not laughed so freely for many days.
“I am only jestin’,” she conceded. “But I can see the way he looked at ye.”
Jean sighed. “Sometimes I wonder if he will ever make his feelin’s kent.”
“Well, perhaps there is a reason for the delay. If we havenae had any movement by the end of the month I will pursue him and find out.”
Jean giggled prettily as she shook her head. “Ye are mad, m’lady, but I thank ye.”
They continued on their way in companionable silence, walking down the long winding path toward the sights and sounds of the town.
As they reached the outskirts, Maisie was struck by how quaint it was. There were many flowers outside doorways, with smart, clean streets and cobbled stone stretching as far as the eye could see.
She was charmed by it, and her spirits were lifted even further by the thought that this was her local town.
They received many curious glances and some gestures of welcome as they walked through the streets. A great number of these people had probably been in the crowd around her at her wedding. Maisie was rather taken aback by how many people seemed to know her.
She was happy when they were inside the musty shelves of the bookshop, and she could be away from the eyes of strangers for a little time.
She knew exactly what she was looking for and chose not to ask the clerk, happy to wander the shelves with Jean walking slowly behind her.
Finally, she gave a quiet cry of happiness as she found the complete works of Shakespeare on one of the shelves and took it down. She would enjoy adding to the library over the years, even if she did nothing else helpful in the castle.
Jean cleared her throat.
“Um…M’lady, that has already been ordered.”
Maisie shook her head. “Nae, I only found it missing yesterday.”
“Aye, m’lady, I heard Laird MacLennan asking Mrs. Murray to ensure that all the works of Shakespeare were added to the library yesterday. He was quite adamant; she could not understand where he had suddenly got the idea from.” Jean looked at her curiously. “Did ye ask him?”
Maisie looked down at the book, thinking of their fiery exchange and her remonstrations about the lack of variety in the library.
James ordered them straight away?
She was oddly touched by the gesture. It did not feel like a dress or a bouquet of flowers. This felt like a man wanting his wife to have the things she liked in her home, and something warm bloomed through her chest as she thought of it.
“Och,” she said quietly. “Well then, I shall look for somethin’ else. Perhaps we can find ye a book of love poems for yer man,” she teased, and Jean snorted.
“Ye are impossible, m’lady.”
James was exhausted.
He had been forced to call on Laird Abingdon to try and resolve the MacCarthy matter and Abingdon’s solution seemed to be to cast the lot of them out into the wilds.
He alighted from his horse to see Harris on the other side of the courtyard with Islay. Kenzie was hungry, and he ensured she was tied up beside a bucket of hay before he went to speak to his man-at-arms.
“Could ye inform Mrs. Murray I have returned earlier than expected? She can prepare lunch,” he said. “I need to speak to Maisie before she throws a dirk at me.”
He was fully aware he had left without a farewell again. Despite the heat they had shared the night before, he was not foolish enough to believe he had won her over.
“Aye, m’laird, but she isnae here.”
James stopped, spinning around to glare at him.
“What?”
“She went into town with her maid.”
James growled, illogically angry that she was not there when he wanted to speak to her.
Perhaps this is how she feels when I leave with nae warnin’. He shook off the thought. I am the laird of this castle, I can dae as I please.
He stormed back towards Kenzie, the horse skittering backward as she saw him approaching, hearing Harris hard on his heels.
“Where are ye goin’?” Harris asked, his voice almost wild. “M’laird, dinnae dae anythin’ rash.”
“She accuses me of abandonin’ her and then leaves when she has been houndin’ me to spend mealtimes together.”
“M’laird,” Harris said, with a warning in his voice.
“She should be here,” he thundered, untying Kenzie who looked wearily up at him after her long journey that morning.
“She went to buy a book!”
“We have a library!” James growled back as he took off at a gallop out of the castle and headed toward town.
In his mind, he knew he was being entirely irrational. Maisie was perfectly entitled to go to town whenever she wanted, but it was not only that. He had wanted to show her the town. It was somewhere special to him, he had wanted them to see it together.
There was a part of him that wanted to show her off to his people.
He had missed her that morning, wishing that he had invited her into his bed the night before. It was as though Maisie had taken over his mind completely. He had spent much of his time at Abingdon Castle wishing he was back with her, and that was most frustrating of all.
Is that how Faither felt? Choosin’ a pretty face over duty, time and time again?
He slowed his pace as he reached the town, nodding to a few of the townsfolk, keeping a sharp eye out for his wife.
As he made his way through the streets and up the hill toward the large kirk where they had been wed, he finally saw them.
Two ladies were walking side by side through some wildflowers that had sprung up beside the path.
He charged over to them, knowing that he must look like thunder. Maisie turned, as did Jean, both of their eyes growing wide as he spurred Kenzie forward.
Dinnae be a brute now, James. Be civil.
“Did ye nae think to tell me ye were leavin’ the castle?”
“What?” Maisie cried. “Ye werenae there. Harris kent where we were.”
“Up!” James barked, and Maisie shrieked as he pulled her roughly onto the horse, crushing her body to his as Jean stared at them in shock.
“James MacLennan, let me down this instant!”
“Nae. I’ll show ye me lands meself, ye dinnae have permission to leave me sight unless I tell ye.”
Maisie shoved at his chest, and was stammering wildly as she tried to articulate her anger at him. James knew he was acting like the monster she had accused him of being—but he was powerless to prevent it.
“Go back to the castle, Jean; I will be with me wife if anyone asks,” he said angrily. With that, he galloped away, holding Maisie close, feeling the swell of her buttocks against his legs, her breasts juddering wildly as the horse thundered away.