The Laird's Kidnapped Bride (2 page)

Placing his wounded arm on the table, looking at it, he grinned. Aye, his bride was a wee scrappy lass. He didn’t even wince when Gwen started to wash it clean. It didn’t take her long to put some ointment on the injury and have it bandaged. When she went to sit on his lap, he held up his uninjured arm. “Nay, lass. Ye ken things between us have been waning. It’s been awhile since I last swived ye. T’was bonny between us, lass, but now I’m afeared ‘tis over.”

Gwen’s hand went to her throat and she stared at Cameron with tear-filled, pleading eyes. “Nay, nay, please, my love, dinna say ‘tis ended. Let us go up to my bed and I’ll prove to ye that ye still want me.”

“Nay, lass, ‘tis finished between us. ’Tis best, I think, that ye should leave.” He wasn’t in least bit tempted, and he squirmed in his seat as tears dripped from her sad eyes. He turned away. All he could picture was his small bonny bride, the feel of her so soft and delicious in his arms. Her beauty was undeniable, and though she had a sharp tongue, just as cutting as the blade she wielded against him, he wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman before her. His gaze returned reluctantly back to Gwen when she spoke again.

“Ye canna send me away. Please let me stay, I have nae where else to go. I promise I will abide by yer decision nae to be intimate with me, just let me stay.” Frantically, Gwen fought the rage gathering inside her. She needed to convince Cameron to let her stay and find a way to win him back into her bed.

His brow furrowed as he tried to decide what was best. Then he huffed out a breath as he made his decision and hoped he wouldn’t regret it. “Och, ye can remain for a wee while, Gwen, but I suggest ye start making plans to leave.” Irritated, he brushed away her hands as she tried to wrap them around him. He just hoped he wouldn’t live to regret his judgment. He rubbed the back of his neck and wondered why he hadn’t gotten rid of her sooner. He was a fool not to have sent her away when he stopped wanting to bed her. Ah, well, he supposed a few days wouldna make any difference.

“Thank ye, Cameron, thank ye.”

Not completely happy with his choice, he grunted, “Now be off with ye.” He watched with hooded eyes; something about her behavior struck him as odd. Females were a wily, untrustful bunch, and he decided he would keep a wary eye on the lass. He looked up when he saw the men who had taken his bride upstairs coming towards him. He could not help but grin in amusement when he noticed them both rubbing their faces and arms. It was a certainty the wee lass had put up quite a fight. “I hope me bride didna injure ye too badly.”

Big John snorted. “She’s a scrapper and it will nae doubt take ye some time to tame the wee vixen.” He brushed a hand through his long, greasy hair. “I swear, the lass nearly plucked me bald.”

Unable to help himself, Cameron roared with laughter.

When his laird finished being amused, Big John scratched his head. “She does smell awfully sweet, though. Can ye believe she ordered a bath, and in the middle of winter, too?”

His brow rose with interest, and aye, he remembered holding her and how he had been instantly aroused by the sweet, beguiling scent wafting up from her and filling his nostrils. Never had he smelt anything so tantalizing or arousing before. He shook his head clear of his thoughts before his cock woke up completely beneath his kilt. “Well, if the wee lass wants a bath, I’ll see about one for her.” Rising to his feet, he headed for the kitchen, but in his mind he was picturing the lass all wet and slippery. All that tantalizing flesh on display. He could almost taste the droplets of water as he licked them off her body with his tongue. A very arousing and provocative image, and one he intended to witness and experience very shortly.

***

Utterly worn out from her fight for freedom, Lark eyed the massive bed and chamber with horror. Both were absolutely filthy. The bedding was grey from lack of washing and the room was not only dusty and full of cobwebs, it also smelt damp and musty. She couldn’t even imagine when the fireplace had last been cleaned. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself; what was she going to do? No way was she going to stay here or sleep in that soiled bed. If she could only find some way out of this hideous bedchamber. It wasn’t worth trying the door, because she’d heard those two beasts lock it after they tossed her in here so roughly.

Her arms falling to her sides, she hastened across the floor and shoved the faded dirty curtains apart and coughed as dust filled the air. She waved her hand in front of her face and unlatched the window. Poking her head out, she mumbled a curse and her bottom lip drooped in disappointment. It was a long way down to the bailey below, and it would be impossible and dangerous to attempt an escape that way. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. There just had to be some way out of this horrendous place. She spun around when a knock sounded on the door, and moments later it was swung open as a shy maid stepped inside with her arms full of clothing.

“Beg pardon, Mistress, but the laird sent me with some clean garments for ye after yer bath.”

When the maid went to place the garments on the bed, she stopped her. “Don’t put them there. In fact, my bath can wait. I want a dozen maids sent up here to clean this pigsty. Right away. I want the bed linen changed, the floors and walls scrubbed as well as the fireplace. In fact, everything in the room will be scoured until it shines.” She watched the maid spin around and race out the chamber as if the hounds from hell were chasing her, she grimaced when the door was slammed shut and locked. She paced the dirty, rush-strewn floor, waiting for the servants to arrive. Not too many minutes had passed when the door was thrown open and that despicable beast stood in the doorway, his arms folded across his massive chest. Her chin hitched in the air as she turned to face him defiantly.

“What is all this nonsense about cleaning ye chamber? There’s nothing wrong with the room, lass.”

In disgust, she snorted and waved her hand around. “Ye say nothing is wrong with it. Are ye blind as well as dumb? Take a good look, ye great fool. ‘Tis a veritable pigsty. I willna stay in such an odious,
filthy
bedchamber.”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed as his gaze slowly travelled the chamber, then he let out a sigh. Aye, t’was a little unclean. “’Tis a wee bit dirty, but ‘tis nae pigsty either, lass and nae reason for ye to cause the household so much work.”

“Och, ye blithering twit. A body could sicken, living in such squalor. I suppose ’tis yer plan, ye wed me and then I die of some dreaded ailment.” She tossed back at him with scathing contempt. Was he so dense he couldn’t see the filth when it stared him blindly in the eye? Glaring at him and seeing his perturbed countenance, she blew out an irritating breath, knowing that he saw nothing wrong. Damned lackwit.

Incapable of stopping himself, he grinned. “Nay, wee lass, I intend ye live a long, fruitful life alongside me.” The lass was certainly entertaining. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had so much fun.

Her eyes narrowed at his amused grin. “If ye call me wee lass once more, ye muckle-headed looby, I’ll pluck every hair from yer scalp. Now listen to me, you maggoty-brained oaf. I willna stay in the chamber one more second if ‘tis nae thoroughly scrubbed and the bedding changed. I dinna ken about ye, yer fat whore or yer clan, but where I come from, cleanliness is next to Godliness.”

“Now wee…harrumph, now, lassie, we all took our bath some months ago. ‘Tis nae need to be insultin’.” He quickly wiped the grin off his face. The sizzling furious glare warned him of her intent. From the bright glimmer sparkling in her eyes, he was positive she would take great pleasure in plucking him bald.

“Months? Ye mean ye dinna bathe every day? Sweet mercy! Nae wonder everyone stinks to high heaven.” She mocked with disgust lacing her voice. She saw her insult struck a nerve when he straightened his slack pose. Good. For what he had done to her, he deserved every slur she threw at him. If he thought for one minute she was going to go along with this ridiculous nightmare, he was a mutton-headed idiot.

Insulted, he was no longer amused. “’Tis the way of things. A person could die of the ague, bathing in such freezing temperatures.” His mouth tightened when she rolled her eyes in disbelief.

“Och, please spare me yer pathetic excuses. ‘Tis laziness, pure and simple. This whole place is unfit for even a scurvy dog to live in. Now am I going to have my bedchamber cleaned or nay?” Her hackles were up and she wasn’t going to give an inch. She crossed her arms and started to tap her foot impatiently. The stinking, odious beast was soon going to learn he couldn’t walk all over her, nor would she put up with such filth while she stayed here. “Well, lackwit, I’m waiting.”

“Fine! Ye can have yer chamber cleaned, and since ye’re so adamant about it, ye can work along with the maids.” Aggravation snaked its way up his throat like a slow-moving slug. Not one to anger quickly, he was having a hard time keeping his temper in check for the second time that day. The wee lass was goading him, though.

A smug smirk lifted the corners of her mouth, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and arched a brow in contempt. “Good! The sooner ‘tis done, the less likely I’ll catch the pestilence.” She knew her insult found its mark for the second time when he snarled, swung around and slammed the door shut. Well, the filthy fiend deserved every slur she tossed at him. She shuddered at the thought of not bathing for months. It was disgusting how these people lived, and by damn, she was most assuredly going to find some way to escape the gates of this stinking hell hole. Somehow. She would be fleeing, not only for her life, but also away from some dreaded disease she would surely catch if she stayed here too long. Within minutes, the door was thrust open again and a bevy of wary maids entered carrying buckets of water, mops, brooms and rags.

She let out a sigh of relief before she started issuing instructions. She ignored the sullen glares sent her way and went to work alongside them. Gradually their animosity waned, and a few of them who weren’t tongue-tied with shyness started asking her questions about why she was insisting she wanted everything so clean. Without hesitating, she explained, and she could tell by the surprise on their faces that they were skeptical about her reasons. She continued telling them how she bathed every day and changed her bed linen every week. The hours flew by until the maids left the sparkling, fresh-smelling room. Just as the last one went through the door, half a dozen lads entered with her tub and bathwater.

Oh, thank goodness. She was hot and sweaty after hours of scrubbing, but it was worth every second of the backbreaking labor. Only when the last lad had walked out the door and it was locked behind him did she move over to the tub of water and started unlacing the front of her gown. It was going to be pure heaven soaking in her bath, especially after spending half the afternoon and all night tied up and tossed over a horse. Her mouth thinned in violent anger, just thinking how she’d been treated and why she’d been brought to this Godforsaken place. She didn’t believe one word that lying heathen said. Surely her father would have mentioned something about her being betrothed to the filthy monster.

Finished stripping off her garments, she stepped into the tub and sank into the water, letting out a sigh of pure pleasure as she lay back and closed her eyes. Escaping this disease-riddled castle and its inhabitants wasn’t going to be easy. Her main concern, though, was trying to discover just exactly where the blazes she had been stolen to. Everyone back home would be afeared for her safety and wouldn’t have a clue what had happened to her. Her poor mother would be a weeping pot, her father ranting and raging. They would search high and low for her, but they would never find her. She still found it impossible to believe how easily those two miscreants had been able to sweep her up and dash away with her without a hue and cry going up. 

She hadn’t even had time to scream. She had been swept into a dark alley and bundled into the dirty plaid before she knew what was happening to her. Only when she was tossed over the back of a horse and bound did she realize, too late, that she was being kidnapped. Now here she was, stuck in this filthy devil’s pit and about to be forced to marry some stinking laird. Well, not bleeding likely, because no matter what, she would escape this horrifying nightmare before she was trapped here for all of eternity. No, she wouldn’t let something so disgustingly appalling happen to her! In the next few days, she would find some way to save herself. She just had to be patient and make sure her bid for freedom didn’t fail. She shuddered to think how she would ever survive if she was stuck here forever.

No, she must succeed. Once she was back home, she’d put this horrendous ordeal behind her. Her lashes lifted and she gazed into the flames of the fire. Nibbling her bottom lip, she pondered the idea of not telling her father exactly where she’d been taken to and by whom. Her father and her betrothed would no doubt be out for blood. And though she did rather relish the thought of the heathen swine suffering, she couldn’t let those that were innocent pay for his crime. Nay, better just to say that some thieving rascals snatched her off the street and took her out of the city, hoping to gain a handsome ransom for her return. When she wouldn’t co-operate by telling them anything, they grew fed up and let her go.

Her father probably wouldn’t believe her, but what choice would he have? Closing her eyes again, she thought of her betrothed and grimaced. Not that Sir Walter wasn’t handsome, she supposed he was, but there was absolutely nothing about him that she found the least bit attractive. Everything about him was too feminine: his face, his clothing, his movements. He simpered like a woman, giggled like one and when he couldn’t get his own way, pouted like one. It always made her sick to her stomach just being near him. But because of the immense dowry he was willing to pay for her, she was being forced to wed him. Every time she complained or begged her father not to go through with the betrothal, he refused to listen.