His Bonnie Bride Read online

  "If ye want her treated weel, then ye best keep Tavis from sniffing round her."

  " 'Tis expected to use a woman taken a captive," said Sholto. "Lord Eldon will think naught else."

  "Aye, 'tis expected," agreed Colin, "but I'll nay have the wee lass abused. I have Tavis's word that he will seek a ransom first, and his word that he'll nay take the lass to his bed if she is unwilling. 'Tis all I can do."

  Janet thought it very little indeed. She had wanted Tavis since she had first seen him four years ago. It had seemed such a simple thing to seduce him into her arms, but it had not been. Unlike other men she had known, Tavis MacLagan had proven immune to her, his sense of honor and his deep loyalty to his father proving an unbreakable wall. She had accepted the occasional presence of Katerine MacBroth in his bed, for she knew Tavis only used the young woman, that he would never wed her nor care for her as the girl hoped he would. However, it had taken Janet but a moment to see that Storm Eldon was a very real threat. She hoped fervently that Hagaleah would quickly come forth with the ransom. It seemed impossible that the girl's kin would refuse to pay any ransom. Lord Eldon could easily survive to return to power at Hagaleah and need to be answered to.

  * * * * *

  "Recovered from your ordeal, Sir Hugh?" Lady Mary purred, her full mouth slipping into a smile.

  "I am so pleased I was able to provide your ladyship with some amusement." Sir Hugh was unmoved by the sight of Lady Mary in her bath, her voluptuous charms barely concealed by soap and water. "Do you plan no retaliation for this raid?"

  "I have seen to the watches being strengthened." Her lovely face hardened. "The arrogance of them."

  "But what of that which they have stolen from us?"

  "The stock will be replaced. I am, nonetheless, enraged by the theft of my mare. However, I will not pursue those heathens into their own den. It would cost me more than it would gain."

  "I speak not of your stinking horse," Sir Hugh snarled. "What of Storm? Your husband's daughter?"

  Lady Mary shrugged as she stepped out of the bath, and her maids rushed to dry her off. "The swine will no doubt cry for ransom. They usually do when they catch one of our people. That fool Roden would even ransom the peasants."

  "Ah, then you will pay. Mayhaps it will not be too steep."

  Wrapping the towel around herself, Lady Mary sent her maids off before turning to Sir Hugh. She resented his apparent immunity to her as well as his deep interest in Storm. Despite that, she did not fear that he would become too uncontrollable. Not only did she know how to stir his passion despite the apathy he now displayed, but she could also use his greed to maneuver him.

  "I care not how much or how little they ask, for I will not pay. Not right away. Mayhaps not ever."

  Sir Hugh turned an unhealthy shade of red as rage threatened to overcome him. "You promised me the girl and, through the girl a fortune. God's teeth, woman, you know very well how she will be used."

  "I knew not that virginity held such an attraction for you, Hugh."

  " 'Tis not that, but I would rather she had not been bedded by all and sundry."

  "Well, I cannot see them doing that to her. She is too high-bred. The sons, mayhaps the father, but that is all. There is honor among these heathens. There is also a respect betwixt these two old enemies, even an odd liking of each other. I doubt Storm will return to Hagaleah as innocent as she left it, but she'll not have been abused. Think of it as training." She laughed and lay down upon the bed on her stomach as a pretty young maid entered the room. "They will teach her all she needs to know."

  "I hardly need their help," Sir Hugh grumbled. "I could have done that upon my own."

  Lady Mary sighed as the silent maid removed the towel and began to massage into her body a scented oil that kept her pampered skin soft. "No doubt, but I think 'tis her spirit that causes you the most trouble. Some time with the rough Scots will cure Storm of that. She'll be easier to handle. Do not forget the feet, wench," she told the maid. "The winter's cold floors have roughened them."

  Watching the maid rubbing the softening oils into every inch of Lady Mary's back was swiftly curing Sir Hugh of his disinterest. "I could have done so given time," he murmured hoarsely when he recognized the maid as one he knew well, a certain well-endowed girl named Agnes.

  Turning over, Lady Mary saw that his disinterest had fled, and made a soft, purring noise as the maid began to gently rub the oils in upon the front of her body.

  "You wish to wed the girl. She does not wish to wed you." Her smile widened as Sir Hugh began to shed his clothes. "A touch of shame and humility could serve you well. If she is dishonored, she will think again before she turns down your offer, for she will know full well that there will be few others, perhaps none."

  "It will make me look the fool," he said as he moved to the side of the bed.

  "A rich fool," she murmured as he settled down beside her.

  "Mayhaps." His brief frown fled as the maid, at Mary's signal, began to shed her clothes. "Still, it will wound my pride, and I had wanted to be the first."

  "Worry not, Hugh. Mayhaps the Scots will teach her a few tricks."

  "Ah, m'lady," he said softly, "if they can teach her to be as you, they can keep her for as long as they wish." He laughed and both women joined him as they fell into his open arms.

  Chapter Five

  Phelan sat on the large bed, watching Storm struggle to fix her hair. "It has been near to a week."

  Storm sighed and smoothed the skirt of the dress she wore, glad that she had been provided clothes, for she shuddered to think that she might have had to continue to wear only what she had arrived in. So agreeable was it to have a change of clothing that she could not only ignore the fact that they were Janet's, but the ill grace with which they were lent to her. The laird had told her to adjust them to fit, but Storm had merely basted the tucks needed to make them fit her smaller frame. She did not think Janet would do so, but, if the woman wished, the dresses could easily be returned to their original size and owner.

  " 'Tis not when the MacLagan man returns, but what the reply to the ransom demand is that is important to us. We are well treated, if watched constantly. 'Tis as comfortable as Hagaleah."

  "Aye. They are not bad folk. 'Tis easy to forget we are enemies. Yet I had thought that Sir Hugh would push for your rescue or ransom." Phelan grinned when his cousin made a face. "He does want you."

  "Sir Hugh wants anything female that is neither too old nor too ugly. My attractiveness is vastly increased by the fortune he would gain were we to wed. My father has given me a sizable dowry."

  "Then surely he would rush to gain your release ere ye be abused and made useless as a wife." He frowned. "He'd not want to wed you ere ye are dishonored by a man or men. Nay, especially when 'tis by a MacLagan."

  "I think Sir Hugh is in sore need of funds and would wed me ere I had been made whore to the whole clan. Lady Mary will no doubt soothe any qualms or wounded pride the man suffers."

  Phelan bit his lip as he thought and then said, "Tavis is after sharing your bed."

  A murmur of doubtful acknowledgement escaped Storm as she thought on Tavis MacLagan. He was a man a maid often dreamed of. His black hair was thick and as glossy as a raven's wing. Taller than most men, he was leanly built, with the well-developed muscles of a fighting man. His face was hawkish with high, well-defined cheekbones, a long, straight nose and sturdy jaw, but his glorious eyes, so heavily lashed and set beneath gently curved brows, could soften the harsh lines. So, too, did the smiles that so rarely seemed to touch his finely drawn, thin-lipped mouth, a mouth that had yet to kiss hers.

  That was a puzzle to her, for she, too, sometimes got the feeling that he wanted her. She truly doubted that Phelan's presence restricted Tavis. There was nothing to stop him from simply tossing the boy out of the room, yet Tavis did not even try to do that. In fact, there had not even been the hint of a kiss. Storm smiled a little when she recognized that she felt piqued. She certainly did not
want to be ravished, but she could not help but wonder why, when it was his perogative as her captor, Tavis MacLagan had not touched her.

  "What is that smile for, cousin?"

  "I am smiling o'er the vagaries of a female's vanity." She grinned. "I do not wish to be ravished yet 'tis annoyed I am that it has not been tried. 'Tis starting me to wonder where or how I am lacking." She laughed along with Phelan. "Ah," she moved to open the door when someone knocked, "our escort to dinner."

  Angus led them down the hall, he and Phelan chatting amiably about the hunt that day. Everyone, save Janet, had been quite friendly. If it were not for the guard always at their side, it would be easy to forget that they were prisoners. It would also be easy to forget that the MacLagans were the hereditary enemies of the Eldons, that the reiving and the fighting had been going on for generations.

  Storm knew she was in danger of forgetting that fact with Tavis. The time spent talking, laughing and arguing with the man had served to obscure that. It took a greater and greater effort for her to remember it. It was the same with most of the others she had come to know at Caraidland but, with that insight into herself that so often helped her, Storm knew it was far worse, far more dangerous with Tavis. She not only forgot that he was the enemy, her captor, but she was rapidly falling in love with him. That was not only foolish, but could lead her down a path to a great deal of pain.

  Tavis greeted her at the door of the hall as he had all week. It was hard for him to keep up a casual demeanor, for he wanted her more with each passing day. Yet, he found himself enjoying getting to know her. Here was a woman who was not swayed by empty, artful phrases, one who had the opinions of a well-informed mind and was not afraid to voice them and defend them, and one who had a sense of humor as well as the ability to laugh at herself, her frailties and errors. He had discovered that, while she possessed a temper and an open, beautiful laugh, she also had a ready wit, pride, honesty, modesty and many another quality that he had lately found rare in a woman.

  The one thing that truly amazed him was her lack of awareness concerning her own beauty and attraction for a man. Features that had promised beauty on the small girl had fulfilled their boast. Her wide, slanted amber eyes still seemed to fill her small heart-shaped face, thick, long brown lashes giving them a sensual look, and the tilted brown brows accentuating their shape. No changes had occurred in the satiny alabaster skin, but the full mouth had lost its childishness and now begged to be kissed. Tavis did not think she had grown all that much taller, but she had gained all that was needed to heat a man's blood and carried it with a graceful, unconscious sensuality that was seduction itself.

  It was as the meal drew to a close that the MacLagan messenger finally returned from Hagaleah. The sinking feeling that Storm experienced as the laird read the missive with an easily discernible frown told her that she had been foolish enough to harbor the small hope that the ransom would be paid, that she and Phelan would be released. She was curious as to whether her father's wife had openly tossed her to the wolves or was employing a subtle delaying tactic. The laird's face as he handed her the reply told Storm that she was not going to like it.

  The blatant falsehood that excused Lady Mary from immediately paying the ransom made Storm laugh softly. There was little chance that she would have chased her father and brother to France. Even if she had not enough sense to fear the war, she would have feared her father's wrath. However, it gave the woman the needed excuse for delay, requesting proof that the MacLagans did, indeed, hold her and her cousin Phelan as prisoners, for the ransom was too high to hand over without such proof.

  "I daresay my head on a salver would be the proof she craves," Storm drawled, smiling faintly. "So what do ye do now, m'lord? 'Tis my thought that this delay will soon become an outright refusal."

  "Aye," Colin agreed with a frown, but then he smiled. "Your head is indeed the answer. A lock of that hair. 'Tis a rare color. There'll be few that have it. 'Tis proof enough. We'll send it and see what she replies. I cannae believe she is so confident she can see to your father's end, therefore can refuse to aid ye. We have tried for years."

  Storm nodded. "As my father has always expected ye to. 'Tis true," she continued when she saw that she had everyone's full attention, "that the marriage is no marriage despite my two half brothers. My father knows of Lady Mary's many faults, but he does not see her evil nor her cunning. He feels that she should be content in that she wants for naught and thus pays little heed to her. As with most men, he would not look to a woman for his final fall, he being a strong knight, a skilled fighter."

  "Why should he?" asked Sholto with the scorn of a man possessing an agile, strong sword arm.

  "She has allies. I doubt not she could raise an army to fight him if she but called upon all her lovers," Storm drawled.

  "Aye, but he has fought us often and come away alive, most oft unscathed," Iain pointed out.

  "Would ye draw a sword upon the man ye trusted to run your lands ere he had drawn one upon you? Nay, I thought not. My father would expect no threat from that quarter. Being an honorable man, my father would ne'er expect a knife in the back, and I fear that is my stepmother's way." Storm shook her head, a sadness settling upon her face. "I did not see her plan until 'twas too late to warn my father. She will do her best to see that he and Drew do not return."

  "And ye?" Tavis asked, his mind on the fact that the ransom had been refused, so he need not go softly with her any longer, could at last indulge in more than a gentle wooing.

  "She would rejoice to be free of me as well. The woman detests me. Has always done so. I made matters worse by aiding Mistress Bailey, a widow who would no doubt be the next Lady Eldon if Lady Mary died. Mistress Bailey has been my father's mistress and the wife of his heart for five years now. She has given him two children. Lady Mary had a plan to be rid of the woman as soon as my father was gone. She hired men to attack Mistress Bailey and the babes as they traveled to relatives. I was able to get warning to her so that the plan failed, but I fear Lady Mary found out what I had done."

  "Hagaleah sounds a right bed of intrigue," Iain said with a shake of his head. "I cannae believe a woman could kill a man like your father. A woman isnae made for plotting a murder so coldly."

  "Is she not? I mean no faulting of my sex for we, as men, have our good and our bad, but I think a woman is very much capable of it. A woman is a creature of strong emotion and has not been filled from birth with ideals of honor. I know men feel we have none, do not understand it. Have none of you gentlemen found yourself the victim of some female machination, some ploy you failed to see until she had gained her end?" She nodded when she saw uncomfortable recollection flicker over many a man's face. "A woman can have cunning, and her very softness makes it more effective. Aye, a woman can plot a murder, mayhaps better than a man, for I believe she can hate better, hate with a cold clarity that oft eludes a man."

  "Ye really believe she'll not send the ransom for ye," Colin commented. "I will try again, ye ken."

  "Aye, ye can try all ye like, but I think the lady will delay until she feels sure that my father will ne'er return or, mayhaps, until Sir Hugh urges her to fetch me. She will not honor the usual way of ransoming, I am thinking. The woman will be loathe to hand over a bag of rotten meal for me and Phelan." She looked at Colin, one shapely brow quirked in question. "So, m'lord, what plan ye for us if I prove right?"

  "Ye'll stay here," Tavis replied, cutting off any reply his father could have made.

  Storm noticed the sudden silence at the table and frowned. From the various expressions and the pointed lack of such on the faces around her she knew they were aware of something she was not. For a brief instant she feared death, but the fear was quick to fade, for she felt sure the MacLagans would not kill a helpless woman and child. Without a chance of ransom, however, she saw no point in them keeping her and Phelan at Caraidland. She could not see them keeping her and Phelan until her father returned either, for his return was uncertain at best. I
t was a very large puzzle to her, and growing larger.

  Tavis watched the confusion flash across her lovely face. He thought wryly that he must have behaved himself very well indeed if he had left her with no idea of what he wanted or, at least, so little one that it was not the first to come to mind. It would soon be the first thought upon her mind, however, for now that the ransom had been more or less refused and would probably not be forthcoming at all, he no longer felt bound to go gently as he had promised his father. She could look upon it as a ransom of sorts. He would have her and it would be soon.

  "What is the point if I can bring ye no ransom?" she queried in bewilderment.

  "Ye'll stay here, ransom or nay, 'til I say ye may leave," he said softly, turning to look fully at her where she sat at his side. "So I'll hear no more questions about it."

  His autocratic tone put fire in her eyes, her precarious position as a prisoner forgotten for the moment. " 'Tis my right to know what ye want with me, why ye insist that I stay here when there can be no profit in it for ye."

  "So ye wish to ken what I want with ye," Tavis drawled as he grasped her by the shoulders. "Allow me to demonstrate," he purred, yanking her into his arms as he had wanted to for days.

  At first Storm was so surprised that she was still in his arms. It was when his warm, soft lips began to stir a heat within her that she came to life. She quickly found that it was not easy to fight a man's hold while sitting down. Despite the fact that fury, a fury increased by the audible amusement of the others at the table, gave her added strength, Storm also discovered that trying to fight Tavis was akin to beating her head against a wall. Although being kissed before an audience was not at all to her liking, most of her fight came from a fright of the response her body was showing. She knew a surge of white-hot rage when he released her and grinned at her. It blinded her to the fact that he was clearly moved by the kiss.