Highland Deception (Highland Pride) (21 page)

Staring at the blood pouring down his bicep, Conall gripped his shoulder and tried to cover the wound. His face went stone cold. In a flash, he reached into his pocket and threw some kind of powder into Lachlan’s eyes. Pain seared him. He was blinded.

Chapter Eighteen

Maggie’s heart sang when Conall admitted defeat. Lachlan had no choice but to concede, because he couldn’t cut down an unarmed man. But Conall was not surrendering—she’d seen that look on his face the day she’d rejected his advances. Dread washed over her as he slowly reached into his breeches then threw what looked like sand into Lachlan’s eyes.

In one swift move, she shoved her knee into Hamish’s groin. When he doubled over in pain, she grabbed his bow and pulled one arrow from his quiver.

By the time she looked back, Conall had drawn a pistol and pointed it at Lachlan. On instinct, she nocked the arrow, took aim, and let it fly. It connected with Conall’s hip just as he pulled the trigger on his small gun.

The impact jolted him, and the bullet flew through the air, missing Lachlan.

She sighed in relief. Heedless of anyone else on the field, she dropped the bow and ran. She needed to feel Lachlan’s strong arms around her and know he was safe. Conall writhed on the ground, but her brothers ran in to subdue him.

“I love you,” she cried without thinking as she dashed toward Lachlan. He’d straightened and was rubbing at his eyes as she moved in to poke his shoulder with two fingers. “Dinnae ever scare me like that again, Lachlan. I thought he was going to put a bullet in ye.” Tears fell down her cheeks as she grabbed his face to look into his eyes, to make sure he was unharmed.

He blinked. “Scare ye, lass? Ye are the one who ran off and got captured by the devil himself. I didnae ken how I was going to get ye away from him.” He pulled her in for a tight embrace. She welcomed the feel of him. It was like coming home, but to a home she wanted and needed. Her knees buckled as he claimed her mouth in a kiss that was both possessive and demanding. She moaned and sank into him. It didn’t matter that her family stood by watching.

She forgot about everything except Lachlan. Forgot her anger and hurt over his betrayal. She even forgot the crowds surrounding them until the cheers broke through her bliss. She pulled back and straightened in a vain attempt to maintain some modicum of propriety.

Brown spots dotted Lachlan’s cheeks and brow. “We need to wash yer eyes. I dinnae ken what he threw at ye.” She inspected and rubbed her fingers softly across his cheeks to clear it away.

“Most of it’s out. I can see all I need to now.”

She melted into him and relief flooded her as he took her hand in his and drew it to his lips.

One of her brothers swooped in and grabbed her around the waist. He twirled her around and embraced her so hard she almost lost her breath. “Roland, I cannae breathe.” She could not help but notice the disapproving glare he gave Lachlan.

He then turned his displeasure on her. “Ye have some explaining to do. Where the hell have ye been, Maggie? We were sick with worry.”

After squinting at Roland’s grip on her waist, Lachlan latched onto Maggie’s arm and tugged her back to him. It was possessive, but gentle. She didn’t mind. She wanted to feel his touch, to know he was safe and unharmed. “Please join us in the hall. We’ll have some food and drink and discuss the future.”

Lachlan led her to his horse and lifted her onto its back then jumped up behind her. Drawing her near, he slid his arms around her; it was like being enveloped in a warm cocoon to be in his embrace again, and she relished the feel of his strong muscles as he hugged her close.

She’d not thought she would ever know his touch again. The warm scent of him made her ache to be even closer, and she snuggled in like he was a blanket to keep her warm from the cool night air.

“Woman, dinnae ever run off like that and scare me again. I’ll bend ye over my knee and give ye the beating ye deserve.” But the harsh words were tempered by the tender way he breathed her in and nuzzled his head against hers.

Had he gone daft? Did he think she ran into Conall on purpose? “I didnae ken he would be there.”

“Ye took off without letting me defend myself.”

At the mention of the previous morning’s events, she stiffened. Aye, he had a point, but she’d been distraught, and no matter what he might have said, she wasn’t sure she would have listened. But she didn’t want to think of that at this motherent, didn’t want to remember what he had been doing while she had helped deliver Donella’s babe. “Ye have no need to explain yerself to me.” She said it, but the words were hollow and tore at her soul.

From the beginning, Lachlan had made sure she knew there could never be anything more than fun between them. He’d never given her any reason to hope for something more.

“I did nothing wrong, but we will discuss it later when we have a motherent to ourselves.”

She deflated. Her eyes stung. He didn’t even regret his tryst with the harlot.

Maggie peeked over her shoulder to see Conall being tied and questioned. His men had all knelt down and surrendered peacefully. “What will happen to Conall?”

“The MacDonald is going to take him and his men. He has a grievance against the Covenanters. I’m sure he will send word to Conall’s father of the bastard’s whereabouts, but I dinnae ken the man can do him any good.”

“I dinnae ever wish to see him again.” She shuddered and sank into Lachlan.

“I will make sure ye never do.” He kissed her temple. “Dinnae speak of the priest. Robbie wants to stay out of it if he can.”

“Aye. I cannae blame him.” Like the lad, she wanted to blot Conall from her memory forever.

Maggie’s family came up alongside them and thankfully pulled her from her misery. They peppered her with questions as they eyed Lachlan. Trepidation, curiosity, and mistrust were plain in their guarded expressions as they watched the Cameron laird hold her as if he owned her.

“How did ye even come to be here, Maggie?” her oldest brother asked.

For the rest of the ride, she explained how she’d gotten here, omitting Lachlan’s attempt to kill her and explaining the head injury as an accident that happened during the skirmish when she’d been knocked backward into a tree. Looking over her shoulder, she was able to see the corner of Lachlan’s lip quirk up into a sheepish, guilty smile.

As they rode through the main gate, Arabella was saddling up with several men flanking her, almost as if they were guarding her. She looked as if she’d been crying, and when Maggie made eye contact with her, she froze. The harlot was staring daggers at her, as if she wanted to rip her eyes out. Goose bumps rose on her arms as she tried to shake off the malice the woman aimed her way. For the rest of her time here, she would have to stay away from that woman.

When they dismounted by the keep, Lorna ran over and took her in a punishing embrace. “Ye should have jumped on me horse, Maggie. We could have made it back.”

“Nae, he was too close. I had to get ye to safety. I wouldnae have been able to bear him harming another friend of mine.”
Friend.
She hugged her once more. “I am so glad ye are safe.”

“Aye. I am thankful Lachlan wouldnae let him take off with ye.” Lorna released her, and her fingers rose to Maggie’s darkening cheek. “Och. Look what the bastard did to ye. Does it hurt?”

“’Tis just tender. ’Twill be fine.”

Elspeth pulled her in tight, and when she backed away, Maggie was surprised at the sheen of moisture in her eyes. “I was so afraid for ye, lass. But I knew Lachlan would bring ye home.” She took Maggie’s hand and pulled her toward the keep, and Maggie felt as if she’d come home.

…

A dreadfully long afternoon of negotiations complete, Lachlan finally made the way from his office into the hall. Freezing when he saw Maggie enter with his mother, his heart soared at the mere sight of her. Black curls bobbed playfully as she laughed; her unbruised cheek was pink and flushed. Her presence alone calmed his frayed nerves, and he’d almost gone insane thinking he would never touch her again. He was still tempted to beat Conall for laying a hand on her, but all he could do now was take solace in the knowledge the bastard was gone and would never be able to touch her again. Hopefully, he would hang for his crimes.

He’d spent the afternoon behind closed doors with other lairds and then Maggie’s father and brothers. When the door opened at one point to admit a server with ale, bread, and cheese, Maggie was pacing outside. Although she’d protested and tried to enter the room, her father had held up his hand and said, “This is men’s business. We will see ye at the dinner meal.” Lachlan was disappointed the man had rebuffed her.

She huffed and stomped away. It had been adorable.

Images of what the evening would bring flashed through his head in vivid detail. He couldn’t wait to get her alone and turn that anger into the passion she kept hidden below the surface, just for him. He needed to feel she was real, taste her, and assure himself she would not disappear again.

Pulling himself away from his thoughts, he returned to the conversation with her father. The man was a tyrant, tedious and controlling. Despite his harsh demeanor, Lachlan recognized the care and concern he held for his daughter concealed beneath his hard exterior. He wasn’t a man accustomed to letting people know his feelings, which were hidden well behind the wall of a true leader. But the depth in his eyes gave away his true emotions.

…

Pacing at the entrance to the great hall and dreading the news to come from the afternoon her family and Lachlan had spent behind closed doors had been torture. Focusing on the smell of baking bread wafting through the air made her belly rumble, but it kept her from wringing her hands and rushing into Lachlan’s study to demand answers. Her thoughts turned to speculation. Her father would take her home, and she’d be forced to marry some other man, or worse yet, they would force Lachlan to wed her, a man who was just like her father, whose love couldn’t be won by a single lass.

A deep, instinctive part of her knew she carried Lachlan’s child. Did he have other illegitimate heirs running around? Just thinking on it made her queasy again. She wanted to be the only one to carry his babes, but what did it matter? As she was about to give in and demand she be included in their deliberations, Elspeth came up, looped her arm into Maggie’s, and drew her into the great hall to walk toward the main table. She gasped at the crowd inside. “’Tis so many.”

“Did ye bring yer sisters, then?” It was Brodie talking to a Highlander she’d never seen. She couldn’t help the giggle that broke through her lips at his jesting with the man, who growled at Brodie.

Elspeth followed Maggie’s gaze. “’Tis Ross Maclean. Those two can get into all kinds of mischief together. Best stay away from both of them this evening.”

They made their way through the crowd and settled in their normal spots, but Lachlan wasn’t there. Controlling her every move, most likely on her father’s command, her brothers, Roland and Ian took the seats beside her and pinned her in so that no one else had access to her. All patience fled, and she couldn’t stop herself. “What was decided today?” she asked Roland, knowing he would talk before Ian would give her answers.

“Maggie, ye ken we only want what’s best for ye,” Roland answered. Dread filled her at the words she’d heard so many times she couldn’t count, and she almost missed her father taking the seat next to her brother, with Lachlan on the other side.

“And a week ago that was Conall, so ye will forgive me if I dinnae trust father’s judgment?”

Roland’s eyes twinkled with mirth, and he gave her a grin she couldn’t quite read. Sometimes she thought he riled her up on purpose. “Ye will be happy with our decision.”

“Just like I was going to ‘grow to love’ Conall.” She repeated the phrase they had used with her often. She scowled at him, but he only laughed.

Ale was brought to the table, then Maggie’s father, Gavin Murray, the Duke of Kirk and most titled man in the room, stood, raised his glass, and silenced the gathered crowd, just as she had seen him do so many times before. Relishing the control he held over the room, he introduced himself and thanked the Camerons for their warm welcome.

“Lachlan and Margaret will be wed in the morn.” Too stunned, she didn’t hear anything after that motherent.

Why had no one warned her? She peered across her family to look at Lachlan. Had he been forced to acquiesce? His stiff jaw twitched, and his brow knit together. Her appetite disappeared. He was being coerced to wed her and was not pleased with the arrangement. She would live with a man she loved who didn’t want her. Her father had sentenced her to a lifetime of sorrow like her mother.

Somehow she managed to make it through the meal, picking at her food and moving it around her plate, but she couldn’t face Lachlan’s frustration tonight. Hoping to slip from the room before he could stop her, she turned to Roland. “I’m tired. Please escort me to bed.”

“I am, too. ’Twas a long journey here.” He stood and offered her his arm.

He escorted her to the room where she would spend her last night as a single woman. She didn’t even try to sleep, just lay there all night lamenting fate for handing her a loveless marriage.

Chapter Nineteen

By the time Lachlan was able to join Maggie at the table, there were no open seats beside her, and it would have been poor manners to ask her family to move so he could sit next to her. The duke had arranged it so that he couldn’t get to her, and he felt like a child with a cake placed before him he was not allowed to taste.

Because her father had monopolized all his time, he’d not had a motherent alone with Maggie since he’d gotten her back to the keep. Lachlan was already fuming that her father demanded he not have her in his bed until they were wed, and they would have to sleep apart tonight. His fists clenched in frustration as Gavin Murray stood and announced to all what had been decided.

He hadn’t wanted her to find out this way. He’d wanted to hold her in his arms after they made love and ask her, to know marriage would please her. Looking at her now, biting her lip and holding back tears, it appeared the news was anything but pleasing. She’d gone pale and silent, not the reaction he’d hoped for. She had never said anything about marriage. What if she did not want him?

The announcement coming from her father had frustrated him. He couldn’t wait to marry Maggie and send the man home. He now understood her misgivings about men playing games with other people. The duke was an expert.

All during dinner she kept her eyes averted, and her reaction disconcerted him further. He wanted to growl that he could not get to her, but Gavin had pulled him into one political conversation after another, and when he turned back, she was gone. Her brothers had whisked her away. He’d given them several rooms, and there was no way he could find Maggie without coming right out and asking which one they’d put her in.

They would probably laugh if he did, and he was fair certain they would have the room guarded. They had all made it perfectly clear he would sully her name no longer.

Thank the saints they were able to get Father Fergus to agree to perform the ceremony the next morning.

His mother cornered him after dinner. “She doesnae think ye want her.”

“What would give her that idea? I just fought a man for her.” Was she daft? Mayhap her head was still addled.

“Have ye told her how ye feel?”

“I havenae been able to get near her since we got back,” he ground out between clenched teeth.

“Nae. Before now, have ye given her any indication ye care for her?”

“Aye, I have.” But then he thought back to her silent confession while she thought he was sleeping.

She’d professed her love for him, albeit when she didn’t intend for him to hear. He’d not missed it when she’d said it again today after saving his life.

He had not said anything to her either time, but damn it, didn’t his actions count?

…

Maggie rubbed her dry, sore eyes. Sleep had evaded her all night. Between the tears and her youngest brother, Roland, in the bed beside her snoring, she was dead tired. But the worst was remembering the expression on Lachlan’s face when her father had announced their wedding. He’d looked as if he’d been given a death sentence.

Lorna and Elspeth had already been in this morning to bring her an elegant yet simple gown of the softest wool she’d ever felt. The cut of the dress was low, and she felt as if too much of her chest was on display, but she had to admit the deep red with lighter stripes running down its length was a good color for her. They helped her dress and then pinned her hair up with matching ribbons. Now she was just waiting for them to tell her it was time.

When the knock came, it startled her. The door swung open without an invitation, and Lachlan loomed in the frame. He walked in slowly and shut the door with an audible click. He turned and locked it.

His brow was stern and crinkled. His golden mane had been meticulously combed, but a lock fell into his face. Although she wanted to reach out and run her hands through the thick strands and feel the silky curls slide through her fingers, she ached that he might not want her any longer and clasped her hands together to fight the urge. She couldn’t even begin to guess what emotions his hooded blue eyes were hiding.

After thoroughly scanning her, he smiled. “Och, lass, ye look lovely.”

Saddened, she studied him through lowered lashes. Maggie had wanted him to marry her because he loved her, because he wanted no other. Now she only hoped she could make it through this marriage without spending her life utterly heartbroken.

“Thank ye,” she finally managed as the painful constriction of her heart and throat eased.

“I didnae get to speak to ye yesterday. There is so much I wanted to say, but I couldnae get away from yer father. The man has a way of taking over.”

She couldn’t help but giggle at his exasperation, a feeling she’d dealt with her whole life.

“I see it didnae take ye long to get his measure.” The easy banter relaxed her as he took her hand and guided her to sit on the bed beside him. Her heart beat faster at his touch.

“Ugh, and yer brothers! They wouldnae let me out of their sight.” He rolled his eyes in exasperation. Aye, her brothers could be stubborn, but they looked out for her.

“They can be a wee bit much, too.” She smiled.

“Maggie, what I’m trying to say is, I wanted to speak with ye before yer father made the announcement. I didnae even get to hold ye after we got back to the keep.” His hands, holding hers, squeezed firmly and his warmth soaked in and relieved some of the tightness that had been eating at her all through the night.

“I was under the impression ye no longer wanted me,” she said and looked away.

He gently turned her face back to his. “Listen to what you’re saying, Maggie. If I didnae want ye, I wouldnae have fought so hard to get ye back.”

“And Arabella?” There, she’d voiced it. Now he’d know how the jealousy clawed at her heart. Wetness filled her eyes. Damn, she had not wanted him to see her water up about it—she looked like a simpering fool.

He gently placed his palms on her cheeks and tilted her face up to look into his blue eyes. She found herself wanting to drown in the earnest emotion she saw there. “I dinnae want her. I want no one but ye. I’m not certain what ye saw, but think back. ’Twas no’ what it seemed.”

His sincere gaze remained locked on hers. “She went into our room and left a note that made it look like ye were scheming with Conall. She planned it so that ye would think I’d betrayed ye. All along her plan was to send ye out where the bastard could get his hands on ye. I caught her trying to steal the evidence. ’Twas why the bastard wouldnae just exchange ye for the letter on the first day. Arabella was going to take it and then try to turn Robbie over to him. Not only is she a traitor to the clan, she put ye at risk, and I cannae forgive her for either. She is gone and ye’ll never have to see her again.”

She believed him, but the tears came anyway, dripping down her cheeks.

He caressed them with his thumbs and leaned in to place a soft kiss on her lips. “I swear to ye, Maggie. Ye are the only one.”

She fell into him, relishing the feel of his body as she wrapped her arms around him. He was warmth and security and home. Hope blossomed in her chest, but doubts remained, because he had never promised he had any more than passing desire for her, and she didn’t delude herself—he might still want her, but he’d sworn he would never marry.

“Ye dinnae have to marry me.” The words rushed out before she could stop them.

He pulled back and stared at her. He looked hurt. “Do ye not want me?” Reverently, he carefully drew his fingers along her bruised cheek.

“I want ye like I have never wanted anyone else. Ye are the air I breathe,” Maggie managed to say. “Ye cannae let my father force yer hand. Nor the babe. I dinnae want ye if that is why ye are doing this.” She motioned to the gown.

His head quirked sideways as if she had shocked him. And she realized too late—he didn’t know she carried his child in her womb.

…

“Babe?” Lachlan studied Maggie as she closed her eyes and bit her lip, obviously waiting for his response, but he was still trying to wrap his arms about what she’d said.

A bairn.
She looked so beautiful, sitting there with her black curls pinned up, a couple of ringlets escaping to frame her heart-shaped face. Her long, dark lashes almost brushed her cheeks, and she looked down as if she were ashamed.

She was carrying his child. Pride swelled somewhere deep within him.

Whether or not she carried his child, she was his. She’d kept it from him—she hadn’t wanted him to choose her because she carried his child, and it only made her more beautiful in his eyes.

Finally, she returned his gaze and nodded. Lachlan moved to his knees on the floor right in front of her. She was everything. He had no words to explain how his heart leaped every time he saw her and how she had become his world.

He didn’t know how he would face a day without her passion for life and her reckless behavior that drove him to distraction. For her and the babe’s safety, he was already running through in his mind what he would no longer allow her to do.

He placed his hand on her still flat abdomen and looked deep into her sapphire-blue eyes. “I cannae say this doesnae make me the happiest man alive. To ken a life we created lives inside ye.”

“I dinnae want to be an obligation.” Stubborn defiance shown in her eyes.

He laughed. “From the first day, I have kenned ye were the one for me. When I held ye in my arms, it was right. I fought it because I was scared.” He’d never admitted to anyone in his life he’d been afraid of anything.

“Why would ye want to tie yer life to me, when I overheard ye swear to Alan never to do so?”

“I was a fool for ever believing that, but when I made that promise, I didnae ken ye.”

“I dinnae want ye to marry me because my father says ye have to.”

“Yer father has nothing to do with it. I wrote to him last week and made plain my intentions to take ye as my wife. That is why he came. I didnae want to say anything to ye until I had his blessing.”

Her eyes lit as his words sank in.

“I love ye, and there will never be another for me.”

She smiled at him, a heart-rending, soul-searing smile that left him speechless. “I love ye, too, Lachlan Cameron.” She threw her arms around him, and her lips dipped to his for a bold, confident kiss.

“I love ye, Maggie.” His fingers lovingly played with the ringlet that tickled her cheek.

“Now, let’s go get married. I cannae wait any longer.”