Highland Lover (36 page)

had set out while Alana had slept. “Ye can continue to sort out your troubles after ye are married.”

Alana thought about that as Fiona helped her wash up and get dressed in a very fine dark blue gown

that had obviously come from Fiona’s own supply. She and Gregor had cleared one hurdle in the

garden—the one she had set around her badly bruised heart. Their passion had flared hot again,

although she suspected it had never really cooled. Hers had simply been buried by her hurt and

anger for a while. Soon they could feed that hunger again. She could not see how that could hurt her

cause which was, once again, to win Gregor’s heart.

And there was the child to consider, she thought, smoothing her hand over her stomach even as

Fiona pushed her down onto a stool and began to tidy her sleep-tangled hair. Gregor’s sons were

good boys, handsome and strong, but they would always carry the stain of being bastards, unfair

though that was. She did not want that for her child. It was not the best reason to marry, but it was as good as or better than many of the others that set a man and a woman before a priest.

“Come, now, Alana, dinnae look so fretful,” urged Fiona. “Ye must see that Gregor wants ye as his

wife. Aye, mayhap ye cannae be sure of much else, but there has to be something between the two

of ye or ye wouldnae be carrying that child now, would ye?”

“Lust, Fiona. It need be only lust on Gregor’s part, and we both ken how easily a mon can feel that

for nearly any woman who isnae too ugly, too old, or too foul of smell.”

Fiona chuckled as she helped Alana stand up again and idly brushed down the skirts of her gown.

“True enough, but if lust were all that ailed Gregor, he would have had ye and still married Mavis

for her fine dowry. He also wouldnae have played the monk all the while he did his best to woo ye

back into his arms.”

Alana stared at Fiona in surprise. “How verra odd and contrary of me. I thought I had lost all trust in him, yet I ne’er once thought that he might seek all I was denying him in the arms of another

woman. Despite Mavis, despite those two bonnie lads of his born of his licentious past, I have ne’er

thought Gregor would bed down with another whilst he was courting me.”

“And that should tell ye that, despite all the hurt and anger that has clouded your thoughts of late, deep in your heart, ye do trust Gregor.”

“I suppose I must.”

“And so ye should. When he takes those vows, he will mean them. Aye, his father was a rutting pig,

unfaithful to every wife and lover he had—until Mab. The old fool truly cares for her, as ye will see when they return from their travels and ye can finally meet him. It was a long time coming, but

when he said those vows to Mab, he meant every one. His sons took heed of the turmoil their

father’s faithlessness caused in this place and none of them mean to follow his lead. ’Tis probably

why none of them are rushing to the altar, either. They need to be certain of the lass when they wed, for they ken that will be the end of all their roaming. My Ewan also made certain that they

understood that such vows before God should be taken verra seriously. ’Struth, I dinnae think

Gregor really needed to be taught that, for he had already accepted that. And now, he has made his

choice.”

“Och, weel, there really isnae much choice being offered here, is there?”

“Of course there is. They arenae verra good ones, but they are there.”

“The choices being get married or watch a fight develop between our clans. It may stop at violence,

but it will still cause a great deal of trouble for all of you.” Alana sighed. “It doesnae matter. I may fret and bemoan my poor, miserable fate,” she briefly exchanged a grin with Fiona, “ but I want the

fool.”

“’Twill all turn out weel.”

“I hope Gregor thinks so as weel.”

Gregor grimaced as he tugged on the bottom of the ornately embroidered doublet he wore. It was

surprising how quickly he had gotten used to wearing the more comfortable plaid and a shirt. He

felt it was important to look his best for the wedding, however. After all, he had worn all his finery for Mavis. He owed Alana no less.

“Are ye still certain this is what ye wish to do?” Ewan asked as he moved to stand near Gregor.

“Aye, as I have told ye before this complication. ’Struth, I kenned it long ago, but I was verra good at lying to myself,” Gregor murmured.

Ewan nodded. “’Tis an easy thing for a mon to do. It isnae really a weakness, ye ken, but a

strength,” he added softly.

Gregor was surprised to see the faintest hint of a blush upon Ewan’s cheeks, and the man would not

meet his gaze squarely. He knew Ewan was speaking of love, and Gregor felt a little uncomfortable

himself. It was difficult for a man to accept that his happiness rested firmly in the soft, delicate

hands of a woman. Gregor was still a little reluctant to face that truth. A man was, after all,

supposed to be the strong one, the leader, the warrior, and the protector.

He tried to look at his love for Alana as a strength, but it was not an easy thing to see. “I am nay so verra sure of that. It certainly doesnae feel that way.” He realized that he had just confessed to the fact that he loved Alana even if he had not used the word itself.

“Ye will be as soon as ye feel certain that ye arenae alone in it all. ’Tis the uncertainty that makes it all so verra hard. I ken ye willnae heed what I think on it, not deep in your heart, but I dinnae think ye have aught to worry about.”

“There are times when hope nudges close to certainty, but it doesnae matter. It will all sort itself out in the end. There really isnae any choice for me.” Gregor smiled faintly. “And who can say, mayhap

that is one of the things that troubles me the most.”

There was no answer from Ewan, for Fiona and Alana arrived. Gregor fixed his full attention on his

bride as she walked toward him. It had both relieved him and worried him to leave telling Alana

about the marriage to Fiona, yet he saw no sign of anger upon Alana’s face. She looked nervous,

uncertain, and a little afraid. That he could understand. He was feeling much the same.

She looked lovely in the dark blue gown she wore. He had to wonder yet again how she could have

been left unwooed and untouched for two-and-twenty years. Glancing toward where the Murray

twins stood with their legs braced and their arms crossed over their broad chests, it was easy for

Gregor to think that they had had something to do with that. It would really gall him beyond words

if he discovered that he owed them anything.

Alana felt torn between the urge to crow triumphantly over the husband she was about to gain and

one to flee into the wilderness. Gregor looked so handsome in his black and red finery that he made

her feel a little breathless. She had to be mad to think she could make a man like him love her or

that she could keep him content for years. All too readily she thought of all her faults, from being

too thin to being afraid of the dark.

“Steady, Alana,” whispered Fiona, who walked at her side. “’Tis usually the mon who flees when

faced with marriage, and Gregor doesnae look like he has any intention of doing so before that knot

is tied and tied tightly.”

“Trapping him,” Alana whispered back.

“Idiot. If ye must think such foolish things, ye might try to recall that ye didnae breed that bairn all by yourself and that it has ensnared ye as weel.”

That was true, Alana thought as she stopped in front of Gregor. Fiona slipped around her and went

to stand next to Ewan. Alana watched them exchange an intimate smile and nearly sighed with envy.

That was what she wanted but was suddenly afraid she would never have. There was little she could

do about it, however, she mused as Gregor bowed elegantly over her hand. The warmth left behind

by the brush of his lips flowed through her body and she suddenly did not care what woes and

doubts plagued her.

This man was her mate, and fate had pushed her into his path. She had to have faith that she was not

wrong in all she felt for him. He felt something more than desire for her, and she was sure of that in her more confident moments. It was there in the way he spoke to her and always seemed to have to

touch her in some way. There had to be some depth of feeling in his heart for her or he would not

have spent so much time courting her and enduring the teasing of his family even though she had

remained cool to his efforts for so long. He had also planned to turn aside Mavis despite the land

and coin she would have given him and that, too, had to be considered.

Now was not the time to do all that, however. The priest was waiting and, from the disgruntled look

he wore, she suspected her brothers had dragged him away from something. They were not known

for their patience. In fact, Alana suspected they would soon begin growling over the way she was

dawdling and, with the great hall filled with Gregor’s brothers and half brothers, nephews, and sons, she did not think it would be wise to test the limits of her brothers’s patience.

“’Twill be fine, lass,” Gregor whispered as he kissed her cheek.

“They shouldnae have threatened ye,” she murmured, eyeing her brothers with displeasure.

“Aye, they should have. Many a mon would have done far worse than threaten me. One question

ere we stand before that highly irritated priest—why didnae ye tell me about the bairn?”

Alana blushed and shrugged. “I really wasnae aware of it until today. Aye, I had the occasional

suspicion for the last week, but I didnae really consider it all until I had my head in a bucket this morning.”

“Och, poor wee lass. Mayhap Fiona has a potion that can ease that.”

“I suspicion she does and I will be sure to ask her.”

“Are ye ready then, love?”

She looked from the darkening scowls upon her brothers’s faces to the equally frowning priest.

“Aye, let us go and be done with it.” She blushed. “Oh, I didnae mean—”

“I ken exactly what ye mean and take no offense. ’Tis galling to have those two lord it o’er you.”

“Verra galling.”

With Gregor holding her hand in his, they moved to kneel before the priest. As he began to read the

words that would bind her and Gregor together for as long as they lived, Alana had one cheering

thought. In a few moments her brothers would no longer have the rule of her and she could tell them

to go away.

Chapter 22

“’Tis my wedding night,” Alana said as she paced her room, Charlemagne at her side. “Do ye

happen to notice that something is a wee bit strange, Charlemagne? Weel, I will tell ye exactly what

is wrong. ’Tis my wedding night and I am all alone, pacing the floor and talking to a cat.” She

stopped pacing, put her hands on her hips, and glared at the door. “Where is my new and much-

anticipated husband?”

Charlemagne sprawled on his back at her feet, silently begging to have his belly scratched.

“The many trials and tribulations of us poor mortals simply dinnae interest ye at all, do they?” she

asked as she crouched down and began to scratch his belly.

Alana felt both angry and terrified. Everything had seemed well enough at the wedding. Gregor had

acted not only accepting of his fate, but even a little pleased. He had spoken his vows clearly,

without any hesitation. The kiss he had given her to seal their vows had shocked the priest and left

her reeling. She had not even had the wit left to blush beneath the hoots and bawdy suggestions

flung at them by his kinsmen. Then he had walked off with her brothers while she had come to the

bedchamber they would now share. And disappeared.

She stood up and glared at the door again. If her brothers had done anything to hurt Gregor she

would see that they paid dearly for it. Yet she could not think why they would do anything to him

now that they had gotten all they had demanded. Neither did she think all three men were sitting in

Gregor’s bedchamber, drinking and becoming close friends. Alana hoped that they would become

friends, but it was far too early for that to happen. Nevertheless, now her anxiety and her curiosity were roused.

Biting her lip, she reached for the door latch and then quickly snatched her hand back. He was

supposed to come to her. She was freshly bathed, softly perfumed, and dressed in a night rail so thin it was useless as a shield for her modesty. She was all that a new bride should be, but the groom

seemed to have forgotten about her.

Anger quickly overcame her fears and doubts. She grabbed a blanket from the bed, wrapped it

around herself, and went to find Gregor. All during the wedding celebration he had been making her

promises of a night filled with passion with every kiss and every subtle caress of his hand. As her

newly wedded husband it was past time he set about fulfilling those promises that had made her so

eager she had been counting the minutes left before she could go to their bedchamber and get ready

for their wedding night. It was time he stopped whatever else he was doing and joined her there.

Gregor stared into the tankard of ale he held and wondered what he should do. He had been feeling

quite smug, even a little self-righteous, for marrying Alana without a thought or care to what her

dowry might be. Finding out that she had a dowry that made Mavis’s look paltry in comparison was

like a hard blow to the stomach. Since Keira had gained all her husband owned, she had given her

dowry to Alana, adding enough to Alana’s already generous dowry to make her a very rich bride

indeed. A bride far too rich for a man like him.