Disciplined by the Highlander: A Steamy Scottish Historical Romance Novel Page 3

  “I must take your word for it,” she replied.

  So, the man had lived here for a long time. She could not guess his age, but if he had shot as many birds as he described, he must be on good terms with the Laird and his family.

  Maybe Emma could get him to tell her more about this place. A friendly face would be welcome if she was to spend the rest of her life in the keep. She looked up at him and flashed her most brilliant smile. “Do you like living here then?”

  Chapter 4

  William was transfixed. He didn’t usually go for plain lasses. Even though, her plainness was only such at first glance. Upon closer inspection, he found something different in her dark hair, and dark eyes; something that made his blood stir. It seemed that those eyes hide more profound secrets of an admirable character.

  Her chestnut locks were pinned atop her head in the style that was fashionable, or so he thought, as he did not pay much attention to these things. William would’ve much preferred to see her hair fall down her back. The curls looked soft and inviting. He had to keep his hands folded behind his back to prevent himself from reaching out and taking a ringlet into his fingers for a twirl. He knew if he did, it would be the softest, silkiest thing he would have ever touched. That terrified him.

  Her eyes were enchanting in the low light. At first, he thought they were merely brown. However, when she turned and smiled at him, he saw the deep flecks of gold that glittered around her pupils and hints of soft green reminding him of the deep forests he hunted. No, there was nothing ordinary about this woman, nothing ordinary at all.

  He knew the moment the lass opened her mouth that she was his intended, Emma Marston, the only daughter of the Earl of Dawaerton. He had almost not recognized her. She was a beautiful woman with an aristocratic air exuding her body, far from the wee rascal he remembered as a lad. But just the same, she was Lady Emma. The way she spoke, the gown she wore, and everything about her countenance gave her away as a gentlewoman.

  Och, this is no wee lass, but a woman.

  A woman he was betrothed to marry. A small bit of the tension around his father’s decision eased, appreciation filling him as he looked upon her.

  He did not reveal his identity to her, though that was not the gentlemanly way to handle their first interaction. He liked coming upon her in a natural state. He wanted a few moments alone with the bonny lass to determine her character, and he was afraid if she knew it was him, she would close herself off. He had no idea how Emma felt about the betrothal, but he would much rather try and know her without worry.

  “Do you like living here, then?” was her question and he thought about it.

  Her smile was radiant and disarming. William found the small dimple that formed in her left cheek when she smiled, enchanting. He wondered what it would taste like were he to place his lips right at the point where the dip gave way to her full lips.

  “Aye, indeed. I think even if it weren’t the only home I’d known, I would be quite happy here. ’Tis gorgeous, and the people are fine and good.”

  “Even the Laird and his son?”

  Ah, so there was the heart of it. The lass was nervous about the wedding. William couldn’t say he blamed her. He was nervous as well. Before he could answer, a sudden a swoosh of air sped by his head. William didn’t think, he just reacted, moving forward to close the distance between them, pulling Emma to the ground.

  “What the…!” He cursed as they fell. He tumbled them down so the brunt of her fall would be absorbed by his own body. Angry at himself for the quick reaction, he ran his hands up and down her arms, searching for any injury he may have caused. He heard a low murmur from her as the shock of their fall began to wear off.

  “Are ye hurt, Emma?” He moved to get them both into a sitting position, startled to realize it was not a groan that was coming from her lips, but rather, laughter.

  William felt his anger ebb while Emma quickly became the focus of his thoughts. God, she was bonny when she laughed.

  “Where did that bat come from?” Emma asked timidly, as William helped her to her feet. He was on his guard, but still noticed how soft her ungloved hand was in his own. Sure, she was steady enough to stand on her own but he liked her hand in his own. He allowed himself a chuckle, as well.

  “Ye doona ken bats keep residence here in seldom used parts of the castle?” He asked, urging her to look at the wooden rafter at the end of the corridor where their flying intruder had settled.

  “I did not know that. Do they bite?”

  “Nay, they are quite content to sleep all day, and they dine on other insects and vermin so we let them stay around.” He searched her face looking for any sign of fear. There was none. Instead, he saw she was intrigued.

  A laughing lass who doesnae mind a bat?

  A rush of warmth went through William.

  “How do you—wait, you called me Emma. You know who I am?”

  “Aye, lass. Ye are Lady Emma Marston. Here to wed William MacNair, heir to the lairdship of clan MacNair.” She backed away from him. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. Somehow, he had to make her see she could trust him. That meant fighting the urge to reach out to her.

  “You know who I am, sir, but I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

  Her breathing was shallow and tight. Gone was the smiling girl of a moment ago. She had her hands raised as a barrier between them. William noted the fear in her eyes and the rapid way she spoke.

  Of course, he had to tell her who he was and that he had no hand in their betrothal, or she would not trust that he was not part of it.

  “Ye ken, I’m the only one in this whole keep who has as much to lose as ye do.” He slowly extended his hand in a proper manner for him to escort his betrothed into the feast.

  “Whatever do you mean?”

  William knew she was a smart lass. Realization began to dawn on her lovely face. Still, she backed away. William didn’t like that she was scared of him, but he watched as her fear gave way to anger. She was a fiery lass, indeed.

  “Aye, lass, ye’ve got it right now. I’ll not hurt ye. I’m William MacNair. I’m to be yer husband.”

  Chapter 5

  “Impossible…”

  He was William? Emma felt weak in her knees, and the shock of the revelation nearly undermined her stability. Weak, she leaned against the nearest wall. It was all too much. He looked nothing like the scrawny boy of sixteen from her memory. His hair was a shade or two darker, and his features had certainly filled out in his maturity.

  She looked at the portrait of the young lad they had been admiring before…

  Before, when I thought he was just a friendly cousin or other far-off relation to the MacNairs, not the man I am to… She could not even bring herself to think the word “wed.”

  “I’m afraid ’tis very possible, lass.” He reached out and brushed an errant lock of hair from her cheek, swiping it back behind her ear where it belonged. She looked again from the portrait to the man in front of her. The resemblance was there for her now.

  “Let’s go to the feast. Our families will be waitin’.”

  Thoughts swirled in her head. The feast was still happening. She was expected to marry the Highlander in front of her. She knew she should trust him. Just because she was angry about the betrothal, didn’t mean he was a cruel man. Prior to being interrupted by the bat, he was being kind, charming even. And he did knock her out of harm’s way, even if the harm was perceived and not real.

  “Of course. You are right.” Yet, she still wondered why William didn’t seem as anxious as she to be married to a perfect stranger. She decided to press him further.

  “Surely you want out of this betrothal as much as I do?”

  He would not want to marry a perfect stranger, would he? Emma worried.

  “Well, I guess I look at it as me duty, lass. But if yer not wantin’ to take me hand in marriage, I suppose we should talk to our families soon as we can.”

  “I agree.”

 
William gave her a curt nod, and extended his hand, a clear invitation for her to take it. His hand was warm and Emma found a stability in his hold that made her not want to let him go.

  She vowed to build up her inner reserve. She could not allow a simple attraction to cloud her thinking. No matter how kind, handsome, and charming William was, she, Emma should be allowed to have some say in her own future. But she also knew that having gotten nowhere with her mother, she would find no help from her father. He had always left her care and upbringing to her mother, thinking it women’s business. Unless he was forcing her into marriage for his own cruel reasons.

  Emma was beginning to feel that she was being stubborn just for stubbornness’ sake. She was a bit shaken up, and perhaps her snobbish bickering with William was simply her way of dealing with all that had happened. She should try and be somewhat agreeable.

  “So ye’ll let me escort ye to the feast then?” He looked at her as if they were already wed. She felt herself give him a slight smile. When he returned the smile, she noticed his teeth were perfect, and he was more than just handsome, he was divine.

  “Very well. Let’s go to the feast, then.”

  “Yes, lass, let us greet our families together,” he said, as he offered her his arm.

  Taking a deep breath, she flattened the imaginary wrinkles on her gown before taking William’s offered arm. She must not be so easy to charm.

  Walking into the great hall of the MacNair keep on the evening of their announced engagement turned out to be more nerve-wracking than Emma could have anticipated. The moment she and William broached the stone archway, it seemed as though all eyes in the hall turned to them. The room was long and wide and filled to the brim with people Emma had never seen before. She didn’t recognize anyone from her family or any of her father’s men. There did not seem to be a single Englishman in the whole of the room.

  Do not swoon, no matter what, do not swoon.

  “Lass, hold on to me arm if ye need to steady yerself,” William’s murmur was low enough for her to hear without speaking into her ear. Emma found herself clinging to him simply to steady her shaking legs. Thankful for at least a small amount of familiarity, she searched for her family in the crowd.

  Large flaming torches lit the cold, stone walls. There were two hearths, one at either side of the room, and men stood at each drinking some type of alcohol, as their demeanors seemed more jovial than menacing. Then again, strong spirits did have a way of loosening the severest demeanors. Mayhap that joviality was an alcohol-induced mask.

  “Do you see my father or even my brother?” She looked up to ask William.

  “Nae lass, but me guess is they would be up at the main table.”

  He pointed to the head of the room where a long, elevated wooden table sat, laid with several heaping trenchers of game meats, puddings, and roasted vegetables. Sure enough, she caught sight of her father and mother in a serious conversation. Thomas sat beside them, staring off into the distance looking bored and disinterested in the merriment around him. A breath she hadn’t even realized she held in, came out of her in one long stream.

  Emma’s stomach gave a slight growl, reminding her she had nothing to eat since earlier in the day and that she was hungry. She felt William laugh at her side.

  “Let’s get ye something to eat, lass. It’ll calm yer nerves.”

  “But first, should we not take a turn around the room?”

  “Aye lass, yer right. ‘Twould be good for the clan and yer family to see us together and joined.”

  He turned her and they moved to make their way across the crowded room.

  As they walked, she dutifully greeted each of the guests that approached. She was a lady after all, and she had been trained from a very young age in a manner that was graceful.

  She managed to speak with several crofters, clan warriors, and even a few of the maids who were responsible for the upkeep of such a mighty castle. Their best compliment was how he treated them all fairly, from the lowest scullery girl to the best cook. One even told her how he had used his money to buy her ailing father medicine that he could not himself afford. The ladies of the clan were the ones to speak of even higher awe of William, how he had lobbied for better housing, and forged greater clan alliances.

  Mayhap it would not be so terrible to be the lady of this keep someday.

  Emma was proud of herself, she did not shrink in the face of adversity. If she were being honest, she also liked the way William was looking at her. He was proud to have her on his arm and she was happy how he held her securely. It had been a long time since she had felt someone’s pride in her actions.

  “Ah, the honorary couple! Come up here lad, an’ introduce me to yer bonny lass.”

  The sharp brogue snapped Emma out of her thoughts and she raised her eyes from William’s. They had approached the head of the main elevated table. She had been so engrossed in William that she hadn’t even realized they had been walking closer to the main table.

  Chapter 6

  “Of course, Da, excuse me rudeness. May I present Lady Emma Marston, whom we both ken ye remember from her youth in Dawaerton Manor?” he nodded deeply to his father.

  William watched as Emma gave a slight curtsy in deference to her future father-in-law. The light from the torches ran over her chestnut hair and the milky hue of her skin. Her face was tilted at an angle where William could only see high cheekbones, luscious lips, and a graceful neck.

  Och, she’s bonny!

  His heart skipped a beat. If she showed half as much grace under pressure in their future life as husband and wife, as she had already shown with the trials of the night so far, she would make a fine wife, indeed.

  William found the more time he spent in Lady Emma’s company, the less sure he was that he wanted to end the betrothal. The warmth of her hand, enfolded in his arm so trustingly, filled him with pride. Her confidence in him was so pure and strong, he knew he had to be strong enough to not disappoint her.

  At the same time, he could not in good conscience take the lass into marriage against her will. Whenever he was beddin’ a woman, he wanted it to be mutual. So, he would honor her request and they could advise their fathers to not announce their betrothal this night.

  “A pleasure, My Laird,” she replied.

  “Ah, fine manners, Lady Emma, but please—we dinnae stand on ceremony with family, an’ ye are family now, ye ken?” Murdo MacNair, Laird of clan MacNair, said through his large laughing smile.

  Any trepidation William thought Emma may have felt at the sheer size and presence of his father, disappeared. Indeed, she was truly a lady and she relaxed on William’s arm. He liked the feel of her by his side and had to forcefully stop his mind from straying into forbidden waters.

  “Da, we need to speak to ye,” he said.

  “We?” Murdo MacNair asked his son, eyeing Emma on his arm. “You an’ the lass together?”

  “Aye.” William knew it was an unusual request for him and his betrothed to request a private audience while the feast carried on around them. He hoped his father was perceptive enough to catch the importance in William’s tone without asking more questions openly.

  Thomas Marston perked up, raising one eyebrow in William’s direction as he turned to face the trio. It was obvious to William the man was listening intently to his words to his father.

  “MacNair, I trust anything you wish to say to your father with regard to my sister can be done with her family present, as well.”

  William didn’t disagree with the man. Were their situations interchanged, wouldn’t he want to know what was happening with his own family? He looked at Emma. While she didn’t betray many emotions, she also didn’t look to mind if Thomas joined them. Thomas was the lass’ brother and would work just as well. William nodded in Thomas’ direction.

  “Verra well, I would prefer to have yer father join us, but we should talk now.”

  “Prefer to have me join you for what lad?” The Earl of Dawaerton came up
to where they were standing and clapped his hand on William’s shoulder. The move was affectionate, and William swore he saw Thomas wince.

  Strange.

  The Earl was not a large man, but his presence did give off an air of authority William could appreciate. He looked younger than his advancing years, and William was sure the man ruled his Earldom with an iron fist.

  “Father, perhaps we should speak outside of the hall, just for a moment,” Emma said, looking downcast.

  The Earl certainly had a commanding presence where his children were concerned.