When a Laird Loves a Lady (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 1) (26 page)

A while later, after searching for
Iain and not finding him, she ran into Bridgette, who insisted on helping her
locate him. Marion knew Bridgette had only agreed because she wanted to see
Lachlan. Still, she was glad for the company. The first two servants they
stopped to ask thought the men were at the stables, but they only found Angus
there. He spent some time demanding to know what had happened last night, and
after Marion had told him, she had to soothe him to ensure he’d not confront
Fiona. Once he was calm, he told her that Iain and Lachlan were training by the
water. Before Marion and Bridgette made their escape from the stables, however,
Archibald appeared, red-faced because Bridgette had apparently been evading
him, and insisted on seeing the women safely to Iain.

Archibald spoke of the sea as they
descended the seagate stairs, and Marion stared out at the water of the loch
and recalled the breathtaking cerulean water of the sea that lay directly
beyond it. Today, birds blanketed the sky, calling in loud squawks from above.
And still higher than the birds could even hope to reach were scores of dark
storm clouds.

Marion imagined Iain was readying
his men for a possible attack from her father and Froste. At least Marion hoped
that was the reason behind the early training rather then the alternative of
Iain avoiding her.

Before she saw Iain, she heard
steel crashing against steel. The sounds of battle led them across the land and
around the corner of the cliff wall like a torch in the darkness. She gasped at
the sight of her husband standing in the center of a circle of Scots. He was
shirtless with his sword raised above his head, his brother Lachlan facing him.

They circled each other, obviously
very nearly matched in expertise from what she watched. Iain would serve a
blow, his thick, bulging forearms the only sign that the sword weighed more
than a feather. As he brought his sword down for the third time and Lachlan met
him in the air, the corded muscles in Iain’s stomach tightened like bands sewn
together perfectly. He backed Lachlan so close to the edge of the large circle
that the crowd of men had to shuffle back to keep from being overtaken by the
fight.

“Yer husband is the most skilled
fighter I’ve ever seen,” Archibald commented.

“Me as well,” Marion murmured, awed
by the unbridled power that flowed from him.

“Lachlan is fiercer,” Bridgette
inserted, ever loyal to a man who did not seem to appreciate her.

Marion glanced at Bridgette to give
her a sympathetic smile, but her breath caught at the jealousy she saw flashing
in Archibald’s eyes. He truly cared for Bridgette, yet Bridgette pined for
Lachlan. For a heartbeat, Marion’s problems seemed less complicated. Until she
saw that the fight had ended and Fiona had appeared from around the corner with
a bucket of mead and a cup for Iain.

Fiona dipped the cup in the bucket
and handed it to Iain, who took it with a grin. Marion’s temper snapped. She
stormed across the rocky terrain, or she tried to storm, as the uneven land
made her progress wobbly and slow. She barged through the men who appeared
rather stunned to see her, but she did not stop for a single nicety, as she
normally would, until she stood face-to-face with Iain, who was so bold as to
bestow a smile on her after the one he’d just given Fiona.

She plunked her hands on her hips
and glared up at her husband. “I need to speak to you now!” She’d meant to ask
him and not demand. And she’d certainly not meant to yell a command at her
husband in front of his men, but Fiona had put her hand on Iain’s arm, and
well, Marion simply felt as if she were going to explode.

Iain tried to shrug Fiona’s hand off his arm as he
stared down at Marion, who by her glittering eyes, high color, and flared
nostrils was in a fierce temper about something. Iain’s gut told him that
something
was Fiona and her hand on his arm. His wife loved him
and
she was
jealous.
Of Fiona
. He grinned, even as he contemplated how to address
the problem of Fiona and assuage Marion’s delicate feelings. Whether his wife
ever realized it or not, he’d already ascertained she was delicate. Oh, she was
tough on the outside, but beneath that outer shell of iron, her core consisted
of pure soft love and a giving heart.

When Fiona refused to move her
hand, he removed it for her and took Marion by the arm. As he guided her away
to a cave, he barked an order over his shoulder for Lachlan to keep training
the men.

Once Iain and Marion were hidden by
the cave walls, he turned to face her. He meant to chide her for ordering him
about in front of his men, but her teeth were chattering as the wind whipped
her pale hair against her face. She reached up, twined her hair quickly, and then
crossed her arms over her chest.

He frowned. “Why are ye nae wearing
a cloak?”

“I left my mother’s behind to make
it appear as if I’d drowned.”

“I did nae ken it was yer mother’s
cloak yer father spoke of. I’m sorry for that and that I’ve nae appointed one
of the women to sew ye another. That was rude of me.”

She shrugged. “Bridgette loaned me
a gown, but she only has one cloak. Usually, the mistress of the castle would
attend my needs, but as Fiona hates me and is so busy attending to
your
needs, I doubt a cloak for me—or any clothing, for that matter—is on her mind
at all.”

“Now, Marion,” he started, but her
scowl silenced him. He sensed she needed to speak.

“I do not like the way Fiona looks
at you and touches you.”

“Neither do I,” he immediately
agreed. “What do ye want me to do about it? Do ye want me to marry her to
someone from another clan?” He easily could. He had briefly considered the
idea, but he was reluctant to send her away without giving her time to adjust
to his new bride.

Marion shook her head. “No. That
would only make all the other women hate me. And I’m still not certain I cannot
gain her favor. I just need time.”

“One month,” he decided. “That’s
enough time for the woman to stop acting like ye’re the devil and I’m a prize
to be won.”

“You’re no prize,” Marion grumbled.

He caught his wife around the waist
and pulled her to him, crushing her softness to his bare skin. The contact
instantly aroused him. “Ye did nae think that the night before last when ye
screamed and moaned in my arms,” he whispered huskily in her ear, contemplating
and reluctantly dismissing the idea of taking her here in the cave. His men
were too near.

Marion shoved back against his
chest, but he refused to loosen his hold. She looked up at him, her annoyance
apparent on her face. “Well, I certainly thought so last night when you failed
to join me in bed as you said you would.”

“Did ye want me to join ye?” he
asked, nipping her ear and then brushing kisses down her neck to her
collarbone. She shivered in his arms.

“I wish I’d wanted it a little less
than I did,” she admitted, her voice full of misery.

He lifted his head from where he
had been kissing her collarbone and caught her eye. “I like verra much that ye
long for me to join ye in bed.”

“Do you?” The suddenly doubtful
look on her face made him ache to reassure her.

“I do. I wanted to come directly to
ye last night and bury myself between yer welcoming thighs, but Cameron would
nae quit talking.”

“And you could not refuse your
brother’s request,” she said in a soft voice.

“I could nae. Are ye angry?”

“Angry? No. I’m happy. I wish,
well… ’Tis nothing.”

“What do ye wish? Tell me what ye
desire and I’ll give it to ye.” At this moment, he wasn’t sure he could refuse
her anything.

“I wish I had family that loved me
the way you clearly love your brothers. The only person who loves me is Angus,
and while I do think of him as family, it would have been nice if my father
loved me, or if…” Her words trailed off into awkward silence, but she didn’t
need to finish her sentence. He knew what she’d been about to say. She wanted
his love. She already had more of him than she understood, and the amount she’d
managed to claim already worried him. If he were to lose her…or to forget
Catriona because of the wild emotions Marion sparked in him…

“It’s a foolish girl’s dream,” she
blurted.

“Marion,” he started, not even sure
what to say. “I— Ye mean a great deal to me.”

She looked as if he’d hit her. He
cursed himself. He wanted to give her something she wanted, something that in
her mind meant she was important to him. “I’m going to make certain yer
bedchambers are readied today.”

“Thank you,” she whispered, looking
even more dejected than she had seconds ago.

He frowned. “Do ye nae want that?”

“I didn’t,” she said, surprising
him, “but I’m thinking now that it is possibly best.”

“Why are ye thinking it’s best
now?” he demanded, losing his temper. The woman was making him crazy.

“You took my love from me like a
thief in the night!” Accusation barbed her words. “From this point on, I refuse
to give you any more.”

“Love kinnae be stolen, woman.”

Her eyes popped open wide, and her
jaw clenched. “It can! You took mine without my knowing it, but my eyes are
wide now,” she said, motioning wildly in the air. “From now on, I’m going to
guard my heart from you. You won’t give me yours, so I refuse to give you more
of mine.”

“Laird,” came a deep voice from
outside of the cave. “Yer brother is wondering if ye’ll be returning or if we
can cease the training now.”

“I’m coming,” Iain roared, without
taking his gaze from his wife. “I must go.”

“Go, then!” She waved a hand at
him.

He’d never been dismissed by anyone
other than his father. He crossed his arms and stared, unblinking, at her. “Ye
leave,” he ordered, regretting the words as he said them. A wounded look
flickered in her eyes. “Marion,” he reached for her as she scuttled away from
him.

“I’ll be happy to leave!” she
growled and stomped out of the cave.

In one stride, he caught her by the
elbow and swung her around. “Marion,” he whispered hoarsely while wrapping his
arms around her. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I’m hurting ye. I dunnae want to.”

“I know you don’t mean to hurt me,”
she replied as she pushed against him for space he refused to give her.
Finally, she stopped trying when he simply tightened his hold. Her stormy gaze
locked with his. “I’m sorry for my temper.”

He noted she did not take back the
words about guarding her heart from him, yet he released her. When she did not
take a step back, he laced his fingers with hers. Now that he had her love, he
wanted more, not less. He was in no position to ask it, though.

“Was there a reason ye sought me
out down here?” he asked.

“Yes. I wanted your consent to
change some things in the kitchen. I, er, saw that the bread was quite stale at
supper. I think I can be of help to the women who do the cooking.”

“Ye dunnae need my consent to
oversee the kitchen. Ye are the mistress of Dunvegan now, nae Fiona. I will
speak to her, and ye should do as ye wish.”

Marion looked imploringly at him.
“Please don’t speak with her. You’ll make things worse. I’ll handle Fiona
myself, as I’ve said.”

“Fine,” he agreed, glad Marion
seemed less upset now. “Then I’ll be training for the rest of the afternoon if
ye need me.”

Her eyes widened. “Do you always
train for so long?”

“Nae. Unless I’m expecting
trouble.”

“Froste and my father,” she said,
nibbling her lip.

“Aye, but ye dunnae have to worry.
I’ll defend ye with my life, and so will my clan.” He thought his words would
remove the concern from her face, but all the color leeched from her skin,
leaving it looking nearly translucent.

“That’s exactly what I fear,” she
said. “I’d never want you to give your life for me.”

“That is what a husband does,
Marion—keeps his wife from harm.”

She slowly pulled her hand out of
his. “You sound like my father, cold and uncaring. What of love? What of a
happy life shared between a man and a wife?”