The Laird's Forbidden Lady (20 page)

Selina gasped, tried to twist away from him. He held her fast. ‘Mother will have to accept it. As will you.’

‘Albright’s daughter?’ McKinly echoed. ‘In my house?’

Ian shot him a glare, then directed his ire at his brothers. ‘The lady is my wife. You will treat her with the respect that is her due.’

Logan opened his mouth to argue and Ian thought he was going to have to take him outside and pound sense into him. One thing a Laird could not allow was his men, any of them, to disobey a command. He should have known how it would be. If this was his brothers’ reaction, the other clansmen would be worse.

He glared. ‘I mean it, Logan.’

The lad put his hands up. ‘All right.’ He bent his head a fraction. ‘I apologise to your lady wife.’ Disgust dripped from his tongue and Ian still wanted to hit him.

Niall’s expression was simply one of confused horror.

Selina’s face paled, her lips tightened, yet she remained still at his side. He should have warned her how it might be, but he thought there would be more time.

McKinly sank down on the chair and scrubbed a hand across the back of his neck. Then one corner of his mouth kicked up. ‘There is no crime in wedding a willing lass. ‘Tis a fine plan for revenge you are having on Albright. Running off with his daughter.’

Another gasp from Selina. She looked up at him, a question on her face. ‘You planned this?’

‘You know very well I did not,’ he said, angered by the note of accusation in her voice.

Niall looked thoughtful. ‘You sly dog,’ he said suddenly, a slow smile dawning on his face. He swung a punch at Ian’s gut and missed when he jumped back. ‘The keep. After all these years, Dunross Keep is back in the family.’

‘It is?’ Logan said, raising his gaze to Ian’s face. Ian stared at Niall.

‘Aye,’ Niall replied. He looked at Selina. ‘I heard from one of the lasses at Carrick’s castle that she was betrothed to a
Sassenach
and the
keep was part of the settlement. It will come to you now.’

His jaw dropped.

Selina slipped out of his grip, her expression wary. ‘This was your clan business with Angus, wasn’t it? This is the plot the two of you were hatching out of my hearing?’

Remorse stabbed him hard. Angus had put the idea of marriage in his head, but he’d known nothing about the keep. Guilt must have showed on his face, because her expression of outrage turned to one of disgust. ‘I should have known,’ she said, backing away. ‘You are no better than Andrew. Cheating to catch yourself an heiress.’

The words were a slap in the face. Pride rose like a beast in his blood. ‘I’m proud of any comparison with my brother.’

Logan and Niall ranged on either side of him, fists clenched. They looked ready to tear her limb from limb. A week ago he would have looked the same way himself.

Instead an overwhelming urge to protect her forced him to turn and face them as he thrust her behind his back, shielding her with his body. ‘Enough,’ he roared.

He turned to her. She glared at him, defiant as a kitten faced with a bull mastiff, claws ready to scratch. ‘We are married, that is an end to it.’

Logan spun away. ‘Wait until our mother
hears this news.’ With that he was gone out into the night.

Ian started after him.

Niall put out a hand. ‘Let him go. He’ll come to his senses soon enough.’ He looked at Selina. ‘He’ll see the sense in it when his blood cools. As will our mother. And the clan. In one blow, you’ve solved all our problems.’

Selina’s face was as white as a ghost, her eyes dark and accusing. ‘You tricked me.’ She turned on McKinly, who looked as if he could catch a fly on his tongue, his jaw hung so low. ‘It is not true. We are not married, Mr McKinly. There has been no ceremony. No wedding.’

The repudiation hurt deep in his chest. A visceral sensation of loss. No. It was anger. She hadn’t minded the idea of marriage an hour ago and now she was shaming him before his clansmen. And herself into the bargain. He wanted to shake her. He kept his fists balled at his sides, while he fought to contain his rage.

McKinly scratched at the night growth on his chin and glanced at Ian. ‘Makes no nevermind what you say now, my lady. You said you were married, then you slept in my bed as husband and wife.’

Her cheeks fired bright red. Embarrassment. Shame. Hurt. It was the last that made Ian feel sick. ‘I knew nothing about the keep. It may not come to pass.’

She drew herself up to her full height, staring down her nose with an arrogance he could not help but admire, even as her resentment infuriated him. ‘That was why you went apart with Angus. He told you, didn’t he? That’s why you looked so guilty just now. That is why you tricked me into this marriage.’

‘No.’

‘I don’t believe you. This marriage will never stand in an English court of law.’

‘It will,’ he said harshly. ‘It always has. Deny we are wed and what does that make you?’ Ian wished he’d held his tongue as she flinched.

‘Selina,’ he said more gently. ‘It was done of your own free will. No one forced you.’

To his sorrow, tears welled in her eyes. He reached for her hand to pull her to his side, but she dodged out of reach.

He’d been wrong about the tears. Her eyes were blazing with anger. ‘I hate you.’

Damn it all, if the clan sensed he was not in control of his wife, then there would be bickering among those who thought he was right and those who thought he was wrong. It would tear them apart. ‘We will discuss this later. Leave us. I have business to discuss with my clansmen.’

She curled her lip. ‘More secret talks.’

‘Clan business. I will join you shortly.’

She glared at him, saw he was not going to relent
and tossed her head. ‘If you will excuse me, gentlemen, I never stay where I am not wanted.’

That had the sound of a threat. The way her eyes flashed in temper was magnificent, and the swirl of her skirts around her legs fired his blood as she headed for the bedroom door. And his bed.

‘Spoilt little
Sassenach
,’ Niall said,
sotto voce
, but not so quietly that she didn’t hear. Ian knew by the way her spine stiffened. But he thanked God when she said nothing and closed the door with a sharp snap.

‘I’ll support your choice, lad,’ McKinly said. ‘She’s no such a bad lass. Look at the way she helped my Marie Flora.’

Niall grinned. ‘I think it is a brilliant move. The answer to all our prayers, you clever dog. I’ll even drink to your health, if McKinly will part with a dram of his whisky.’

Brilliant. If he could only convince Selina to feel the same way. Seduce her again? His body hardened. Again.

He hadn’t had this many jolting arousals since he was a lad. But he did not want an unwilling wife. Hell, he had not wanted a wife at all until he had the Gilvrys solvent. At least, not until this woman ran across his path again.

‘We need to get back to Dunross and have a word with Albright,’ he said. ‘Without running
into the militia. They seem of a mind to shoot first and ask questions after.’

Niall eyed his bandage and whistled. ‘It seems they mean business.’

‘So do I. Let’s have that dram, McKinly.’ He needed some fortification before he faced his wife.

The sound of mugs being set out and filled percolated through the bedroom door.

The truth was a bright sharp blade to her heart. No matter what he said, it was quite clear he had used her. Tricked her. She paced away from the door, striking her fist in her palm, her anger too great for calm acceptance. Anger and mortification. She felt like a fool—worse, she felt betrayed.

If only he hadn’t kissed her in the cave. Only once before had a kiss overpowered her senses. And it ended with her getting hurt. Badly.

That kiss had been Ian’s, too. He’d left her to join his brothers in their teasing. He hadn’t thrown any rocks, but he had said she wasn’t wanted.

It seemed she had not learned her lesson. Only this time the pain in her chest felt much worse.

She drew in a steadying breath. No point in moaning about what could not be changed. At
least she knew the truth. Could work out her options.

She glanced at the open window. It wouldn’t be difficult to leave and disappear into the night. And go where?

To Alice. Deny the marriage had ever happened for all she was worth? Or go home, bat her eyelashes at Father and pretend she’d been lost all this while and knew nothing of smuggling or smugglers?

But as she’d realised earlier, it was too late to save her reputation. Any hope of marrying Dunstan had flown the moment she’d set out to warn Ian. Was that why she’d done it? As a means of escape? She squeezed her eyes shut. Tried to go back to the moment she had made the decision, to test her real intentions.

Had she really used it as an excuse to avoid marrying Dunstan? A form of running away. The way she’d run from Lisbon?

No matter how she looked at the situation she found herself in now, though, running was not an option. He’d taken her to bed. And she had been willing, because she thought they’d found something meaningful.

Bitterness rose in her throat. He’d tricked her into marrying him so he could regain Dunross Keep. How stupid could she be?

Tricked her with kisses and seduction.

And she’d fallen into his hands like a ripe plum. Or Dunross Keep had.

She groaned. Father was going to be so angry when he discovered she’d handed over the keep to the Gilvrys. And he must be worried. Why else would he have the militia out looking for her supposed abductor? A militia that seemed ready to shoot on sight. Her blood ran cold.

She flung open the door.

The three men around the trestle table gaped at her. Ian rose slowly to his feet, a frown on his face. ‘Selina,’ his said, his voice a warning.

‘If we are going to Dunross, we should leave now,’ she announced. ‘Before it gets light and we are an easy target for some ambitious soldier.’

A smile spread across Ian’s face. She glared at him. ‘That doesn’t mean I am happy about this situation. You’ve got your keep and a marriage of convenience.’

Niall gave her a narrow-eyed stare. ‘You’d be a fool to trust her, Ian.’

Chapter Fourteen

T
o her surprise Ian had agreed they should leave right away. They’d bid McKinly goodbye and Selina left a message of farewell for Marie Flora.

She had ridden Beau, while the men had walked ahead, talking in Gaelic, excluding her from their conversation. How typical.

The sun was not very high in the sky behind a pall of grey clouds when they walked into the Barleycorn’s courtyard.

Willy Gair came out of the stables and stared at them, his mouth agape. He looked at Ian, then at Selina and frowned.

Ian issued a sharp order in Gaelic.

The man seemed inclined to argue, then bowed his head and shot off.

Selina leaned over Beau’s neck the better for
Ian to hear her. ‘I thought we were going to the keep.’

‘All in good time.’ Ian helped her down from the horse and guided her into the inn. ‘My first loyalty is to the clan. They will have been worrying.’

And did he think her father wasn’t worried? Angry, yes, but worried, too. And right now she was feeling so guilty and so stupid she wanted to see him and beg his forgiveness.

While Niall saw to the horse, Ian guided her into the inn and seated her in a corner of the taproom.

Noisy footsteps trundled down a set of narrow stairs hidden behind a curtain at one end of the room. The curtain swept aside. A man peered into the gloom. ‘We’re closed.’

‘There’s a nice welcome, Ranald,’ Ian said with the ghost of a smile. ‘And here was me thinking you would like to offer me dram on the event of my bridals.’ He spoke in English, no doubt for her benefit.

‘Laird?’ The innkeeper rubbed his eyes and looked again as if to ensure he wasn’t seeing things. ‘Are you mad? There are soldiers everywhere seeking you.’ He peered over Ian’s shoulder. ‘And the lass is still with you? You’ll hang for sure.’

‘I don’t think you heard what I said. Lady Selina
has done me the honour of becoming my wife.’

Shock, followed swiftly by horror, chased across his face. His mouth opened and closed.

‘Would you like some coffee, my dear?’ Ian said, giving Ranald time to recover. ‘If mine host can remember his manners, that is.’

‘Tea, please.’

The man choked. ‘Tea. Right.’ He picked up a bottle, uncorked it with his teeth and took a deep swallow. He clung on to the bottle like a lifeline, staring at Ian.

‘Tea,’ Ian said.

‘I’ll have Bridie put the kettle on.’ He put the bottle down and scurried behind the curtain. Ian went behind the bar and pulled a fresh bottle from the shelf. He poured a dram into the glass and looked at her with a wry twist to his lips. ‘That went well, don’t you think?’

‘No.’

‘It will get better, I promise.’ He swallowed the whisky down and poured another glass. Then poured one for Niall when he came in the door.

Bridie, a plump, rosy-cheeked woman of about forty, brought a tray with a tea pot and milk. She gave Selina a hard look, but said not a word. She gave the same look to Ian and hissed something in Gaelic before disappearing behind the curtain.

‘What did she say?’

He hesitated.

‘I can go and ask her to repeat it in English.’

‘She said he ought to be ashamed of himself,’ Niall said. ‘The words were different, but that’s what she meant.’

Selina felt her cheeks go hot. ‘I really think—’

Two men entered the taproom—Tammy and Colin Gilvry, the blacksmith, Ian’s cousin. Both men were staring at her as if she was a nasty insect they would like to squash. A shudder passed through her body. She thought she had her dismay well hidden until Ian moved closer to her side.

She couldn’t help but feel comfort at his closeness. She drew a deep breath and gave the men look for look. After all, having brought this on herself, she wasn’t going to cower, now, was she?

After those two, other men arrived and soon the small parlour was filled to bursting with large vengeful Scots. She really wished he’d taken her up to the keep and met with his clan on his own.