Enchanted Lover (4 page)

"I thought to enter the nunnery. You cannot
steal what belongs to God alone." She heard herself say it—the brittle
hollow sound reverberated through her head.

He snorted, reaching his hand over to press her flat
stomach. "Are you so pure? Maids with half thy beauty cannot swear
so."

Asilinn bolted from the table spilling her food on
the floor. "I know nothing of men. Do you accuse me of fornication?"

He rose to tower over her. His gaze probed her until
it felt as if he were touching her. She flushed and tried not to look at him,
but she was inescapably drawn back to his intense perusal.

"I'll know soon enough if you are as innocent as
you claim."

"You would smite God with your plan?"
Asilinn crossed herself. "I shall pray for your eternal soul."

The fire in his eyes made Asilinn want to step away
but she dared not show such weakness for her sudden religious decision.

His hand moved again to rest intimately on her belly.
"My issue in your womb," he grated between clenched teeth. "And
if I'm not the first between your thighs, sweetling, you should save your
prayers for yourself."

"Stop this! This cannot be! Find another wife to
warm your nights. I cannot betray my people and my God!"

"I dinna give you a choice and I wilna betray
your people. As for God, you have not taken a vow and gone to the chaste life.
Now your chance is gone."

They glared at each other in silence.

***

He screamed obscenities at them until they all
cowered before him. "Incompetent fools!" he shouted in frustration.

"Perhaps tonight…." one man ventured.

"We have no time to make another attempt! You
have failed me." Drawing his blade, he poked under the chin of the one
brave enough to form a rebuttal. "Fail me again and your life shall be
forfeit."

The blade withdrew leaving a seeping dark stain on
the neck of the gray hood. Sheathing his sword, he kicked at the dirt.

"Discard all clothing you wore today. Laird
Jared will notice anything you keep and discover you as traitors. No one is to
do anything until you receive word from me." The men nodded and took off
in different directions.

He watched until each shrunk away, disappearing into
the shadowy woods. Exhaling sharply he mounted his horse and headed for
Dunbocan alone.

***

Asilinn tossed restlessly, her sleep interrupted by
the vivid dream running repeatedly in her head. She sat up shivering. Laird
Jared MacLean slept peacefully a few feet away. Could it be true? She gazed at
his muscular form. Her father valued her gift of premonition above all her
other skills. Was this dream to become reality? Jared stirred and she knew the
answer instinctively.

Asilinn's pensive stare woke her captor. He stretched
and rose from his makeshift bed then leaned down to free her from her bonds.
"What troubles you, Asilinn?" He cast an inquisitive glance at her
dark frown.

“Naught, I could not sleep trussed up like a lamb for
the slaughter." Freed she turned from him and straightened the huge,
floppy shirt she wore.

"You gave me no choice, wench."

That was true enough. She had refused to give her
pledge not to attempt escape. "Your plan wilna succeed. It will only cause
a bigger conflict. The hate runs too deep."

"Regardless, I will try." He grasped her
hand when she tried to move back from him.

Asilinn wrenched her hand away and refused to meet
his eyes. She was half expecting a disciplinary cuff for her impudence but none
came. She gazed up at him through a fringe of thick lashes. "I cannot do
this, Milord," she said earnestly.

He shook his head and stared at her. "This is
the easy part of what lies ahead. Today we ride through MacLean lands. I expect
you to wear your colors. I want everyone to know you are an Innes."

"You would have me proudly wear my colors over
these rags." She tore at the itchy, rumpled clothes he had given her.
Asilinn spun and paced the floor feeling his eyes watch her every move.
"You ask much and deliver nothing. What you want doesna matter to me. I
want my freedom you—you Highland kidnapper! Nothing less will do." She
stamped her foot for emphasis.

He seemed amused. "Despite your desire
otherwise, you will ride with me to Dunbocan and you will wear your
colors."

"The damn clothes itch so badly. No doubt my
skin is ruined already."

"Probably just a few fleas," he said with a
grin. "They were the groom's clothes."

"You think it is funny?"

"Mayhaps milady would like me to check her
glorious body for flea bites?" He ducked in time to avoid the crockery she
tossed at his head.

"Bastard!"

"Your vocabulary isn't very ladylike," he
commented with a leer. "I'm sure 'tis only the circumstance."

Asilinn looked into his flashing, green eyes and
sucked in her breath. There was no escape from him. Her dream had warned her of
what was to come. With each mile, she grew closer to ruin. Blinking back her
tears, she prepared to meet the day.

The countryside they rode through was wild and
beautiful. Mountainous pasture dotted with sheep and sheer rock outcroppings
gave way to magnificent views. Asilinn rather enjoyed her ride in spite of her
nagging feeling of doom.

Soon the small village of Cock Bridge appeared in the
valley below them. It seemed nothing more than a small cluster of cottages
surrounded by a combination of stone and wood fortifications. They did more to
encircle the village than protect it.

Jared slowed the horse and they started down the
winding path into the town. Some peasants were walking along the road. The men
shouted a warm welcome then looked bemused when they noticed her in front of
him.

He ignored their curiosity and kept moving until he
pulled up in front of a small, stone cottage on the outskirts of the village.
Word of their arrival had already sifted back to the villagers and a crowd
gathered when they dismounted.

"I bid you welcome, Laird MacLean," a squat
man near the front said bending in a low bow. The man's bald pate was almost
reflective as he nodded to Jared in the bright sunlight. Rising, he eyed
Asilinn. "Would you be havin' a prisoner with you today?" he
inquired. "I'm sure one of the men would volunteer to guard her whilst you
eat."

Jared shook his head negatively. "Lady Asilinn
Innes will stay in my company, Thurlow."

At the mention of her name, a collective gasp emitted
from the crowd. Thurlow's eyes widened.

Jared addressed the gathering. "People of Cock Bridge, you are privileged to be the first village to hear the news. I plan to marry
Lady Asilinn and make peace with the Innes clan. Scotland needs all her clans
to fight the English, not each other. Laird Innes will not be quick to wage war
with my child in his daughter’s belly."

Asilinn’s stomach lurched. How could she possibly
escape this destiny?

There was a moment of dead silence and then a
slender, middle-aged woman in the center of the crowd began to applaud loudly.
A cheer rippled through the throng and continued until Jared held his hand up
for silence.

"I appreciate your support. Now do me the honor
of helping me find suitable raiment for my future wife."

Various people pressed forward to tell Jared what
they had that might be of use. The woman who had begun the applause walked up
to stand beside Asilinn looking her up and down.

"Laird MacLean, I may have somethin'."

Asilinn noticed when Jared looked at the woman she
cast her eyes down. Her voice quavered when she resumed speaking. "My
daughter was to be married nigh a week from Sunday. She wilna have use for her
weddin' dress now. The gown would fit yer lady. 'Tis a simple shift but the
best the town has to offer."

"What happened to your daughter?" Jared
asked.

The woman twisted her hands in the apron hanging
about her waist. She raised her tear-filled eyes to meet his. "Her
betrothed was killed in battle and the poor lass drowned herself in
sorrow."

Jared's jaw tightened and he gave her a sympathetic
nod. "I'm sorry for your loss."

The woman straightened and dabbed her eyes with the
hem of her apron. "Thank you, Milord."

"Are you not Wynne Ainsley, Keith's widow?"

"Aye, Milord, I'm pleased you remember me,"
she said with a curtsey.

"What say you, Asilinn, will you wear the
gown?"

All eyes turned to Asilinn. "I would be pleased
to wear the gown," she said. Anything had to be better than this sack of
rags she was wearing.

"Good, Wynne, you will help Lady Asilinn bathe
and dress?"

"Aye, Milord." Wynne started to lead
Asilinn toward the stone cottage, but Jared called her back.

When Asilinn reached his side, he leaned down and
whispered in her ear. "I dinna think you need this warning, but I remind
you I expect no misbehavior."

She shot him a stormy look and followed Wynne into
the house. Wynne had apparently noticed Asilinn's grimace because she scurried
around in uncomfortable silence while she heated water in a large kettle over
the fire.

"You offered much in a difficult
situation," Asilinn said, trying to put the woman at ease.

"'Tis not for you I support Laird Jared. I'm
tired of the killin'. Laird Jared is right. We should be fightin’ the English,
not each other."

"You believe Laird MacLean about the
peace?"

"Aye, I believe him, for he has always been as
good as his word. If you go against Laird Jared, you shall not last long."

“Mayhaps he will kill me like his first wife.”

“If you do what his first wife did, I hope he does.”

Asilinn's eyebrows arched at the woman's rude retort
but she kept silent. Peeling off the rough clothes, she stepped into the crude
wooden tub that was to be her bath and sat down in the shallow basin. The warm
water felt soothing on her sore body. She picked up a rag and started to wash
off the grime of the trip.

"What'll I do with these?" Wynne asked,
gingerly holding up the offending attire.

"Burn them," Asilinn suggested. Wynne broke
into a grin.

"A good choice, Lass, I canna believe he gave
you these to wear."

"My other clothes were wet and ruined. I suppose
it was better than nothing." Asilinn smiled back at Wynne.

"I'm sorry I was rude to you, Lady Asilinn. I'm
sure this was not yer idea. I wager there'll be those who wilna take kindly to
our laird's peace plan. He has put you in no small danger with this forced
alliance." She paused. "I'll go fetch the gown now."

Wynne went off humming and returned cradling the
treasured garment that was to have been her daughter's bridal gown. "I
think it'll fit without much alteration." She held it up for Asilinn to
see.

A light blue kirtle formed the under piece of the
garment and it was covered with a cream-colored linen surcoat. Colored threads
were stitched in a delicate floral design on the bodice.

"I'm sure 'tis not like the fine gowns you're
used to," Wynne said apologetically. "But 'tis nigh better than what
you had." The woman looked down at the dress and shook her head. "I'd
forgotten how plain it was."

"It is very beautiful," Asilinn assured
her.

Wynne flushed with pleasure.

"Thank you, Milady."

"Who did this intricate stitching?"

"'Tis me own handiwork."

"You're a woman of many talents. Are you alone
here?"

"Aye."

Wynne handed Asilinn a drying cloth when she stepped
from the bath. Her wet hair hung down to her waist. "Laird Jared wilna be
of a mind to dally long enough to dry this," Wynne said. "I suggest
you let me braid it for you. Tomorrow when you enter the castle, the wave will
be set in golden ringlets. We must make you so lovely the people wouldna dare
question their laird's choice for a wife. I daresay 'twill not require much
work."

Asilinn agreed and sat wrapped in a blanket while
Wynne wove her hair into a series of long braids then interwove those to make a
tight knot of golden strands.

The time had come to try on the gown. Asilinn could
tell Wynne was nervous about her reaction. Asilinn slid the kirtle down over
her head and Wynne fastened the side laces of the surcoat to a snug fit.
"Oh Wynne, 'tis lovely," Asilinn declared spinning around with a
flare of her skirt.

The tight, fitted bodice emphasized her tiny waist
and eased out into a graceful line when it fell to the floor. She felt
refreshed when she went out to join Jared.

The MacLean scowled when he first caught sight of
her. Asilinn wondered what displeased him now. Poor Wynne trembled at his
expression.

The men of the town still lingered in conversation
with their laird in the shade of a Mountain Ash. A dozen eyes explored Asilinn
when she came to stand beside him.

"Milord, I warned you it was not good
enough," Wynne apologized in a quavering voice.

Jared's face softened. "Nonsense, it is
fine."

Wynne bowed her head. "Thank you, Milord."

"Lady Asilinn has need of a maid. I would have
you come to Dunbocan in her service."

The woman knelt and kissed his dirty, leather boot.
"I'm honored, Milord." She was near tears at her good fortune.

Asilinn wondered if any dared say nay to Jared
MacLean. At that moment, his gaze shifted to her. "Turn and let me look at
you."

Asilinn hesitated then spun around in front of him.

"What do you think of the gown?"

"It is lovely."

"Fine enough to marry in?"

"Aye, Milord," she said quickly.

Jared's gaze flew over her lustfully. "I'm pleased
you find it to your liking for our nuptials."

"Well… I…." What had she just said? He had
tricked her.

Wynne gasped in disbelief. "Oh Lady Asilinn,
'tis not fine enough."