Page 44 of The Highlander’s Illicit Bride (Wicked Highland Lairds #1)
CHAPTER THREE
E dmund studied the lass’s face. She was both imperious and at the same time fearful. It was impossible not to admire her courage, although, at the moment there was little else to admire.
She had pulled up the coverlet under her chin and glared at him with fierce dark eyes, her hair a tangled mop on her head. Altogether, she had the air of an angry cat, its fur fluffed up to try and make itself look bigger and braver than it was.
“Dinnae fash, wee lass. I’ve nay intention of making an assault on yer virtue.” He chuckled. “For it would take a far lustier man than meself tae tackle ye with yer face crusted with salt and yer hair ready fer the rooks tae nest in.”
She gave an almost imperceptible nod but her shoulders slumped a little and he guessed his words had gone some way to assuaging her fear.
“ Yer bed? Why I thought this chamber was fer me use alone.”
“Now where did ye get such an idea? I was fortunate tae secure this one room fer me own needs. Those of me men who are ashore will be sharing their beds wi’ the horses in the stable, while the rest of them will be watching the moon from the deck of me birlinn.”
She gasped. “That ship riding at anchor belongs tae ye?”
“Aye. I happened tae have come ashore and was pacing the beach, wrapped in thought, when I heard yer scream.”
She managed a tiny grin. “And ye leaped intae the sea without a moment of hesitation and came tae me rescue?” Meeting his eyes, she straightened her spine without losing her grip on the coverlet. “I thank ye, sir, fer yer valor and strength.”
“Aye. I admit I was impulsive. I didnae ken it was going tae cost me a good night’s sleep in me bed.”
She settled back, looking relieved to hear his words. “So ye’ve nay intention of sharing this bed. I am doubly grateful, milord.”
He was intrigued. She spoke in the voice of a well-born lass, and, judging by her manner, he guessed she must be of good birth. Although, in her present state, it was impossible to gauge.
“’Tis all very well, lass, but before I lie down tae take me rest on the floor by the fire, I wish tae ken who ye are and what led tae yer distress. Who were those ruffians ye were so determined tae escape?”
She sighed as if uncertain of revealing herself.
“I will tell ye me tale of misadventure, but first I want ye tae give me yer word that ye’ll nay force me tae return tae the place I’ve come from.”
He gave this a moment’s thought before he nodded. “If ye wish tae remain here in this wee village ‘tis nae up tae me tae persuade ye otherwise.”
She let go a loud breath and met his gaze with large, luminous, eyes fringed with dark lashes, that looked pleadingly into his. He revised his earlier thoughts. Mayhap, with a scrub and fresh clothes and a comb through that mass of hair, the lass might be quite comely after all.
“Let us commence with yer name.”
Straightening her spine, she lifted her chin in a proud gesture. “I am called Annora. I am the only daughter of Graham, Laird of Clan Munro of Foulis.”
Edmund sucked in a breath. He was right, she was of noble birth.
“I am Edmund Sinclair of Dùn Ara on the Isle of Mull at yer service, me Lady Annora Munro.” He bowed from the waist. “Now, please tell me how a lady such as yerself came tae be floundering in the sea pursued by Barbary pirates?”
She sighed. “’Tis a lengthy tale. Are ye certain ye’ve a mind tae listen?”
He laughed. Now that he had some inkling of who the lass was he was more than ever curious about what had brought her tae that part of the Isle of Skye. After all, Foulis Castle, the seat of the Munro clan, was on the west coast of Scotland, a great distance from where they were now.
“Please.”
Annora began, her voice still husky from her earlier ordeal. “Me faither sought a marriage between meself and a powerful English baron, believing he would win the English king’s favor.”
Edmund nodded. “So, yer da has nae sworn allegiance tae the true king of Scots?”
She shook her head quite prettily, and he could not help but notice her perfectly shaped red lips and her creamy skin.
“A marriage contract was drawn up against me will between meself and the Baron Sir Bertram de Radcliffe, of Cumberland.”
Edmund whistled between his teeth. “A powerful baron, indeed.” He frowned. “Yet he is surely a very old man, is he nae?”
She nodded, shuddering.
The thought of an old man’s bony hands clawing at her body and his bloodless lips kissing her plush, red, mouth, made Edmund sick to his stomach.
“Ye’ve still nae provided an account of why ye’re here. The Isle of Skye is nowhere near yer home or the home of yer betrothed in Cumberland.”
When she explained why she had journeyed from Foulis Castle to her aunt and uncle at Castle Tioram in Loch Moidart, he laughed again.
“So ye’re telling me that yer betrothed was too afraid of the wicked, fearsome Scots tae make the trip north to scoop up his beloved?”
She pshawed. “Beloved? Why the man cares nay a jot fer me, I could be nay more than that bedpost tae him.” She nodded to the end of the four-poster bed.
“He cares only fer me faither’s wealth and an allegiance with a powerful Scots clan.
I am naught tae him. And when his ship came fer me, I didnae board it.
With a ploy, I embarked on the other ship riding at anchor.
I didnae ken it was a slave-ship. I only wished tae escape from the hateful marriage that lay in store fer me. ”
Realizing what she’d done and how she’d come to be on Skye, he threw back his head and guffawed.
“So ye leaped from the frying pot straight intae the fire.”
She looked at him crossly, a fire lighting up her gray eyes. “Aye. ‘Twas a shock when I discovered the lasses shackled on board.”
“Luck was on yer side in the end. Few ever escape the corsairs. I’m surprised they didnae shackle ye as soon as ye boarded. ‘Twas a brave thing ye did tae jump from ship. Ye could have drowned.”
She gave a wan smile. “Drowning would have been better than tae be enslaved – as a wife or as a lover tae the Sultan.”
He grew serious as he contemplated her story. “I ken yer danger hasnae passed. What of the old Englishman who wishes tae have ye as his bride? Will he nae search for ye?”
She shook her head, giving a sharp little laugh.
“He’ll look elsewhere fer a bride rather than risk his precious ship sailing north.
‘Tis me faither who will send out men tae discover where the ship I boarded was heading If I’m very lucky, he may give up looking when he finds I was abducted by pirates. ”
Edmund turned his eyes to the blazing fire. It was clear the lass had little hope of evading pursuit. And he knew it would not take long before she was tracked to where they were. Someone would offer her up for a few gold coins.
Swinging back from the fire he met her gaze. “Ye cannae remain here. ‘Tis nae safe. Ye’ll be captured again in nay time.”
“And what dae ye propose I should dae?” There was that haughty tone and the stubborn tilt of her chin. He was finding her quite delightful.
Before he had a chance to respond there came a loud rapping on the door. She startled and he held up a reassuring hand.
“Who is there?”
“’Tis Davie, milord. I’ve brought ye the garments ye asked fer.”
Edmund strolled to the door and flung it open, taking the bundle from Davie and passing him a coin. The landlord made a clumsy bow and disappeared down the stairs.
“I asked if he could obtain suitable clothing fer ye, Lady Munro.” He displayed the bundle, giving an amused glance at the wide-eyed Annora.
Still clutching the coverlet under her chin with one hand, she unraveled the garments Davie had brought: a faded blue kirtle, a blouse, a chemise, stockings, and a pair of sturdy leather boots.
“I’ll turn me back and ye may shelter behind that screen and don these.”
“Thank ye.” She gave the kirtle a perfunctory examination and shook her head.
“I had so many fine gowns…” There was a hint of mischief in those luminous gray eyes under their fringe of dark lashes when she looked up.
“Yet, I’d rather wear this wee kirtle than be mistress of an Englishman’s castle dressed in a fine velvet gown from Italy. ”
“I’m glad ye are pleased. Then I’ll hear nay more complaining from ye.”
Turning his back, he gazed into the fire allowing his thoughts to roam while she shuffled past, wrapped in the coverlet to guard her modesty, and slipped behind the screen in the corner, where she could don the garments in privacy.
He considered his dilemma. While she was there, she was in danger.
He had little doubt that either her father or her betrothed would make every effort to discover her whereabouts.
If they followed the privateers’ journey, this place would be their first port of call and she would soon be returned to the fate she had so desperately attempted to escape.
Besides the fact that there was still a possibility that the Barbary pirates would continue to pursue her.
If he was to protect her, he could see no alternative other than to take her with him on his journey to Scorrybreac, to the castle of Clan MacNeacail. But, arriving with a guest who could bring trouble to the keep would not be welcome.
He recalled the letter he’d received, summoning him to the castle. The words “We have lass in mind from a suitable family should ye be in need of a bride” had the whiff of matchmaking.
He was uncertain of the reception that awaited him there, but taking a suitable bride was not something he intended to do. Yet, he understood only too well the insult it would be not only to the lass and her family, but to the entire clan, if he should refuse their choice.
A plan formulated in his head that––although more audacious than his usually calm reasoning––might just be the answer to both his and Annora’s predicaments.
Arriving with his own ‘bride’ would provide a perfect solution to the problem. With the Lady Munro at his side as his wife there would be no such dangerous challenges.
As he was turning this over in his mind, Annora stepped from behind the screen, now clad in the clothing Davie had brought.
Edmund managed not to laugh, yet he was unable to suppress his mirth altogether at the sight of her.
She was tall and slender and the kirtle had obviously been worn by someone much shorter and stouter.
The faded garment hung on her, rather like a loose sack.
If there were womanly curves beneath the faded fabric it was impossible to tell.
It reached only halfway between her knees and her feet, revealing patched and darned stockings and a pair of boots that seemed rather too large for her feet.
And, as if that did not create enough of an eyesore, there remained her tangled mass of hair falling in disarray around her face and over her shoulders.
“Ye can wipe that smirk off yer face,” she snapped. “If it were nay fer ye ripping me good clothes tae pieces I’d nae be looking such a fright.”
He instantly rearranged his features to appear serious and thoughtful. “And, if I’d nae freed yer legs ye’d have floundered yer way intae a watery grave.”
She huffed, awarding him a grudging nod.
He beckoned her to the armchair by the fireside while he pulled out another chair and took his seat next to her. “I’ve been giving some thought tae yer predicament, Lady Annora.”
She huffed again and raised her chin in that imperious manner she had. “There’s nay need fer ye tae concern yerself any further wi’ me situation.”
Shaking his head, he folded his arms and extended the length of his legs. “Ye’re wrong milady. Ye are now under me protection and yer fate, should ye remain here, is uncertain, tae say the very least of it.”
Concern flashed into her eyes. “And how d’ye come tae that conclusion?”
“Once the word reaches yer Englishman and yer faither that ye were on board a slave ship, will they nay send men tae remove ye from the hands of the pirates?”
“I’d have ye remember Sir Bertram is nay me Englishman.” She twisted the fabric of her skirt. “But I suppose ye’re right. Like any other of their possessions, I have value tae both men and they will nae allow me tae be stolen.”
“And, if ye remain here in this place, it will be nay trouble fer them tae find ye and take ye back tae wed the baron.”
She shuddered, gazing into the fire. Then she turned her eyes tae his. “So, ye said ye’ve given thought tae me fate.”
He grinned at her. “Ah. Ye’re seeing sense at last.”
She folded her arms. “Well?”
“It would serve me purpose tae arrive at me destination as a married man. And that requirement puts me in need of a wife.” He leaned forward placing his elbows on his knees and scrambling his hands through his hair briefly, as he met her eyes. “As luck would have it, ye’re already me dear wife.”
“Only in the eyes of Davie, the landlord.”
“Och. I’m thinking we could continue wi’ the same arrangement.”
She sucked in a hissing breath between her teeth. “And, so ye’re asking?—?
He chuckled. “Aye. I am proposing… er… suggesting, that ye keep up wi’ this wee masquerade as me wife while I bide in Scorrybreac fer the next two weeks.”
“And this would be tae yer advantage and tae mine?”
“If ye are pursued, they’ll be searching fer the Lady Munro, nae the goodwife of Edmund Sinclair.”
She hesitated, frowning. “But ‘tis only fer the fortnight. After that I’d be free?”
“Indeed, lass. I give ye me word.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I wish tae be on me way without delay.”
He shook his head. “Aye, me business on Skye will be done then, and I shall take ye wherever ye wish.”
She mulled this over. “I admit, yer offer fer me tae travel wi’ ye daes provide a solution tae me problem. At least fer the next fortnight.”
She then started giggling.
“What amuses ye, lass?”
“Why, in order tae escape one marriage, I am tae be plunged headfirst intae another.” Her smile faded. “I will agree on condition. That naething shall pass between us. There shall be nay kisses, nay hand-holding, nay touching in any circumstance.”
“Aye. Ye have me word.” He looked her up and down. “Ye’re nae a tempting sight, Lady Annora. Keeping tae those rules will be easy.” He paused, waiting for the indignant huff that was sure to follow his words. She did not disappoint. He grinned. “Yet there is one thing I ask of ye…”
“Pray tell.” She was still frowning.
“When we’re in the company of others I dinnae wish ye tae argue with whatever I say. And, also, that ye regard me wi’ adoring eyes in the manner of a young bride who worships her husband wi’ love.”
She sighed as if what he asked was a great hardship. “I agree, yet those are two difficult things ye’re asking of me. Nae one.”