His Bonnie Bride (6 page)

The puzzles returned when Colin introduced the young woman as his wife, Janet, for Storm found herself feeling distinctly relieved. She also found that she still did not like the woman, a feeling that had nothing to do with the fact that Janet was a healthy 25 or so years younger than Colin. Many a man took a woman much younger than himself as a second wife. Storm only knew that there was something about Janet that chilled her. Telling herself that she was giving her imagination too free a rein helped not at all. It was clear enough that the brothers cared little for the woman and from Tavis Storm sensed an even stronger emotion than mere dislike or disinterested intolerance. Things at Caraidland were plainly not very calm and cozy.

"So, Mistress Eldon, our ways cross yet again." Colin met her wary look with a smile. "And the lad?"

"Phelan O'Conner, sir," the boy replied in a clear, firm voice that revealed none of his nervousness.

"Ah, from the Irish half of your family, eh, lass?"

"Aye, m'lord." She smiled at Phelan. "He appeared at our door a short while before my father left. When my parents were wed my mother left a note for her kin telling them to come to Hagaleah if they were ever in need of aid. My young cousin here found it when he was left without kin there and took it upon himself to make his way to our gates to see if we would honor that promise."

"Ye traveled from Erin on your own, laddie?" asked Colin in an amazement shared by all there.

"Aye. The note bade come if help was needed. I needed it so I came." It all seemed very logical to Phelan, who had wondered from the first what people found so astonishing about his journey. "Folk take small note of a thin, ragged boy with no horse and no pack save to boot him out of the way. I paid to sail to English soil and then begged my way to Hagaleah." He shrugged to say it was all that simple.

Colin shook his head in wonder. "Ye could have gone astray at the verra least."

"Nay. I knew 'twas on the border, so I kept to that as near as I could. Had to near it ere long."

"Of course," Tavis drawled, his eyes alight with laughter, " 'tis verra logical. I can see that."

"Can ye now." Colin turned his attention to Storm again. "Ye have grown into a verra bonnie woman." He smiled widely when she blushed.

Phelan frowned. "How can ye say that? She looks just like me." He frowned even more when the men suddenly took to coughing. "Well, she does look just like me."

"Nay," Storm said. "Ye look just like me. I looked this way first and have for eight more years than ye."

Grinning, Phelan nodded. "Aye, 'tis true enough. Still and all, I shall be taller."

"Oh, I do hope so." She laughed with Phelan, but then looked at Colin. " 'Tis no guarantee of a ransom this time, m'lord. I would not be surprised to find my father's second wife holding a celebration," she added with a small smile. "She would be fair pleased to see the last of the Eldons she began with eight years ago."

"Och, weel, we shall give it a try, lass. We will put her in the west tower room, Tavis. The boy can bed down in the room just beneath her."

"Nay," Phelan cried, and his gaze was fixed upon Tavis even though he spoke to Colin. "I will stay with Storm even an I must needs sleep upon the floor. 'Tis true I will be little protection an a man wants to visit her, but, if naught else, my presence will make seduction awkward. I swore to her father that I would watch out for her and I shall."

"Then ye shall," said Colin, oblivious to Tavis's obvious displeasure. "Lay him out a pallet in the west tower room. Tavis, lead them to their quarters. I ken they may like to rest a wee bit, mayhaps wash up."

Tavis gave Phelan a harder shove than needed to make the boy move along. He had not really thought to creep to Storm's room like a thief in the night, but the boy's clear intention to stay constantly at her side would make a wooing very difficult, if not impossible. There would also be the problem of what to do with the boy when the time was right to collect his treasure. It was just another obstacle that he did not need.

"Why do ye give the best room to that Sassanach slut? Is she not a prisoner?"

Looking at the woman he regretted marrying more with each passing day, Colin replied, "Aye, a prisoner, but also the daughter of an enemy I respect and a lass who once did me a good turn. Lord Eldon is a man of honor. I will treat his kin as I would expect him to treat mine if they fell into his hands."

"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.

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.