A Highlander's Home (13 page)

             
Outside proved as fruitless as inside the castle did.  Just when she had given up, she spotted him returning from the fields in a cloud of dust with several of his men.  She scowled when she saw him, exasperated that even dirty and shining with sweat, he still managed to
create a furn
ace in the depth of her stomach
.

             
“
Leith
, there be yer lady,” Robbie mentioned, nodding in Raine’s direction.  Noticing her deep frown, he pointed out and winked, “And happy to see ye she is not.  Perhaps a few well placed kisses will cheer her up.” 

             
“Perhaps ye
should be concentrating on where you should be placing your own kisses,” Leith drawled. 

Robbie followed his gaze to the buxom redhead carrying a basket of vegetables while holding the hand of her son.  She saw Robbie and smiled shyly, who awkwardly smiled back, hoping none of the men saw the exchange. 

Immediately
, several guffaws and coughs which sounded amazingly similar to laughter followed.  Robbie scowled at the men who turned their backs to him while leading the horses to the stables.

             
“My lord.”  Raine stood at the outskirts of the group of men,
“A moment of your time?” 
Leith
met the teasing glances of his men with his own scowl and walked towards her. 

             
They fell in step with each other in an uncomfortable silence.  Rounding the corner of the stone wall of keep,
Leith
glanced at the sky and moved into the shade provided by the overhanging wall.  He leaned against the ragged stone and folded his arms, meeting her gaze.  He thought perhaps of mentioning that her eyes were the color of the sea at daybreak, and then resisted it, thinking that it would sound like something from a lovesick boy.  Instead he cleared his throat and gave her a cocky smile.  She wanted something
,
probably to bombard him with more reason on why he should cancel the wedding.  He had one answer for why he should not…because he said so.

             
Raine knew he was going to be
stubborn, regardless of what
their topic of discussion would be, but she was determined.  This wedding had to be stopped.  She would make him understand.  She met his gaze without flinching, and had the flitting thought that his eyes were the same color as the sky above them. 

             
She dove in.  “We cannot get married.  You realize this.  I know you do.  I am not from here, and I know that sounds a bit insane, but you do believe me somewhat.  I have to find the stones and go home to my land,
my time
.”  She shook her head and added softly, “You know this.  Deep down, I know you know it.  I don’t belong here.”

             
He straightened to his full height and looked down at her.  At his vantage point, he had a completely uninhibited view down the front of her bodice.  She was wearing a lovely deep green velvet dress his mother had provided to her from one of her many luggage trains.  The color complemented her eyes to the fullest, which drew attention to her full lips, which drew his attention to her breasts. 
She looked earnest in her plea to him to stop the ceremony, but she also looked very womanly, too womanly.  He had broken his engagement to Lady Brighton, saved her from his cruel cousin, and had given his word to the
Queen
that he would indeed marry and produce sons. 

             
“Lass, we no longer have a choice, regardless if I believe you or not.”  He ran his hand through his hair and rubbed his neck.  Raine resisted the urge to smooth down the errant curls he had loosened.

             
Before she could object, he continued, “I have given my word to the
Queen
h
er
self, and all the people.  I m
ust marry.  And I must marry ye
.”

             
Green eyes blazed with anger at him as she protested, “But – “

             
He turned away,
and then
spun back to her.  He grabbed her by the arms and held her to meet his eyes.  Through gritted teeth he ground out, “But nothin’!  Did ye not hear me, lass?  The
Queen
!  I obtained permission to break m
y betrothal in order to save ye
from my cousin.  God knows why because I don’t!”  He nearly shook her as he spoke.

             
With feet dangling a few inches from the ground, Raine could only stare at him, but was calculating her next protest.  “But I do not belong here!  When I get to the stones at the solstice, I
will leave
.  I have to. 
I cannot stay here in a place that I do not belong
.”  She put her hands on his arms as he continued to hold her in the air.  “Please.  Understand that.”

             
A groan escaped him as her words burned his soul, but when she touched his arms, he let go.  She tumbled backwards at the unexpectedness of it, grabbing at him and catching the hem of his shirt.  He grabbed her wrists and pulled her upright, causing her to collide with his chest. 

She pleaded with him. 
“I am not trying to be difficult or make you unhappy.  I barely know you or your people or your
Queen
, but I do know that I am a stranger here and was not meant to be here.  It was an accident, a fluke of nature.  The Professor made a mistake by saying the words that unleashed this craziness and put me here.”  She sighed, but continued even though his frown was deepening and his eyes had turned the color of hard blue
steel
.  “I cannot marry you.  You cannot marry me.”

             
Fingers made strong by years of hard work tightened their grip on soft flesh until her slight gasp slapped him back to reality.  His voice as cold as his eyes, he rasped, “I will marry you, and you will marry me.  Stranger or not.”

             
His lips were not warm and welcoming as she had remembered them from the barn during the rainstorm.  His hands were not skilled and caressing her to make her forget how to breathe.  Instead his fingers dug into her arms, pinning her against him.  His lips were hard and painful as he ground his mouth into her soft one.  Even her gasps of di
spleasure and the taste of blood did not deter him.  He stopped only when he heard his men approaching.

             
His breathing was as ragged as hers but
from anger, not pain.  “Lass, ye
fell on me
in
the woods that day.  I saved ye
.  Remember that.  The wedding goes on.”

Chapter 11

             
Leith
ran his hands through his dark hair and was tempted to pull out a fistful or two.  Any other woman in the entire country would be falling over themselves to wed him and be mistress of his keep, but not this one.  He had to pick this one, this obstinate, independent, demanding, stressful, angry blonde with flashing green eyes that could make his heart stand still.  If she had not been running through the woods –
his woods
he added to himself, he would be happily preparing to wed and bed Lady Brighton who had not a thought in her head and would never dream of refusing him. 

             
But being the knight who always insisted on
rescuing
the damsel in distress, he had to speak up and save her from Alistair.  He tho
ught of
her wide green eyes, sparkling in their fear, as she was airborne before she knocked him off of his feet.  He smiled in spite of himself.  He was still knocked off of his feet whenever he was able to watch her from afar without her knowing.  The way she smiled at a child passing, or picked up one of the many kittens prowling the grounds. 

             
He had planned a wedding, picked a bride, and wanted sons.  He gritted his teeth and fairly growled at the mess he was in.  The entire village, the
Queen
, and his mother were expecting a wedding
-
and a wedding he would give them.  He grinned as the thought of the wedding night started to play out in his mind.  The village, the
Queen
, and his mother would have the wedding they expected, but he –
the Laird
– wo
uld have his green-
eyed vixen in his bed and all to himself.  His grin
spread
ear to ear
.
Anyone watching would have likened him to a
wolf
about to devour his prey
.

             
The wedding went off without a hitch, much to the dismay of
the bride
,
who could not help but flash
angry
eyes at her soon to be husband.
  He in turn simply stared stoically at the priest, occasionally flicking a smoldering glance her way
, promising
of mysterious things to come later that she was sure to enjoy
, infuriating her even more. 

She did not know why she allowed this shenanigan to irritate her so.  In the spring she would find the stones, repeat the words that would send her home, and then she would wake up in her own bed and all of this would be behind her.  No more cumbersome dresses, no more stone castle, no more medieval men in charge, no more
him
.  That would be the best part,
she nodded to herself as the priest droned on
in what she thought was Latin. 
Her arguments had been valid and presented in a very convincing way as far as she was concerned which the broken vase and her sore vocal chords could attest to. 
She would not have to take orders from this giant brute.  She
stole
a glance at him from beneath her lashes.  No more Lord of the Manner to tell her what to do or control her every move.  Who cares about those blue eyes that could stop her in her tracks?  Or
send
the butterflies low in her belly
into a chaotic dance
?  Or those lips as they pressed down hard on hers?

             
His mother, the Lady MacGregor, was of no support to her cause either.  Raine would sometimes find the Lady staring at her with eyes shining and deep dimples showing for all to see from her most impish smile.  The Lady would nod her head in Raine’s direction
,
and then gracefully glide away
,
but the
woman fairly glowed with happiness. 
She
did not want to be the cause for that happiness.  Any mother would want her son and heir to marry and have heirs of his own, but she was not meant to be the m
other of those heirs. 
This was not her world, not her time, not her era.  These people did not understand that.  They would put their hope in her, a stranger, and then she would be the source of their utter disappointment in the end.

Unfortun
ately, she was the only one in this entire country who was of that mind
.  Every
one else was absolutely in agreement with their Laird.  He needed a wife, and she was it.  Like it or not. 

             
Grudgingly, she had to admit that she was a site to behold in the gown Leith had given her.  Rather than the standard white she was expecting, it was a flowing mass of red
satin layered under black crushed velvet
with
shiny
black silk strands crisscrossing over one another that caused the bodice to wrap snuggly around her.  The rounded globes of her breasts were in danger of spilling over the squared material
if she breat
hed in too deeply.  The sleeves, form fitting from shoulder to elbow, suddenly burst open to hang in waves about her wrists.  Despite herself, she permitted herself a slight smile – she really did feel like a princess.

Raine coul
dn’t help but admire the castle.  It had been overwhelming when she had first seen it looking like a massive fortress with its stone walls and guard towers.  But now it resembled something out a fairy tale, the bright sunshine illuminating it in a surreal glow. 
Banners of all shapes and colors hung from the wooden rafters.  Fresh lavender had been added to the rushes and strewn about the floor and wafted through the air.  Long wooden tables sagged with the weight of the piles of food stacked upon it.  Barrels of ale balanced precariously in the corners.  The thought occurred to her that the people who had prepared all of this might possibly have given the last of their winter stores for this feast.

             
She turned her attention back to the man in front of her. 
What on earth could the
priest
be speaking about that could possibly be so important that it would take so long? 
Did marriage vows really need to drag on this long?
Not that she was in a rush to be married to this oversized thug standing next to her, but s
urely they had been standing here for an hour or more. 
The
giant oaf
was standing as solid as if he were an oak tree with roots that ran a mile deep, staring intently at the priest.  His hair was thick and lay in soft
black
curls around his shoulders with the longer parts pulled loosely together with a leather string.  His white jacket collar was high but not tight, allowing her a wonderful view of his neck and a little glimpse of the beginnings of some nicely bronzed chest.