Page 7 of A Sinful Night with a Scot
“I’d sooner freeze,” she snapped.
“Suit yersel’.”
But Elsie had never spent a night out of bed, and as the hours went by, she found herself shivering under the star lit sky. At some point, her shivering must have disturbed the laird, for half asleep, he reached out his arm to pull her into him, but she stubbornly pulled away.
“Silly woman,” he murmured, turning from her and slipping back to sleep with ease.
Her teeth chattered, her body quivered, and as tempted as she was to turn towards him, she battled the desire and continued to suffer. The hours wiled away and, hardly getting a wink of sleep and completely exhausted, Elsie’s eyes could stay open no longer. Overriding the discomfort of the cold, they finally closed just as the dawn broke.
Enjoying the depth of slumber, she could hear a distant voice calling her name, but she was too comfortable to pay any heed to it. Automatically pulling her arms into her body, she held onto her sleep as tightly as she could.
Suddenly, she gasped, for her face felt cold and wet. Panting as she opened her eyes, she saw the laird standing above her, trickling water on her face.
“What the devil are ye daeing?” she cried, swiping it away with her hands.
Laughing down at her abrupt awakening, the laird said, “We need tae get going if we want tae get married this day.”
Elsie sat up, feeling the aches of her body from lying on the hard floor and, still wiping the water from her face, she glared up at him. Through gritted teeth, she hissed. “I dinnae want tae marry ye.”
“Aye, well,” he quipped back, “we cannae always get what we want, can we, Elspeth?”
“I prefer Elsie,” she snarled, but he didn’t pay her any attention.
She hated the name Elspeth. No one called her that apart from her father, a cold man who had not once shown her any affection. In fact, Laird Munro had better relationships with his men than he did with her.
When she was a child she had not understood it, but the older she got, the more the reason became glaringly obvious, mainly because of the remarks he aimed at her.
“What a shame ye were nae born a male. At least I would have someone tae teach, tae spar with, someone who could match me intellect. It is a shame I never produced an heir.”
Or,“What would ye ken? Ye’re just a lass.”
And,“This clan will have nae savior unless ye marry a decent laird.”
When he did speak to her, on occasions that were few and far between, his comments were derogatory and denigrating at best, all delivered with a snarl of disappointment. The only time he had ever said anything positive, and even that was a stretch, had been a remark he had made about her usefulness in forming an alliance with Laird Gunn.
In short, her father did not love her, and never had, simply because she had been born the wrong sex. As though she had had any choice in the matter. She was a useful asset only, that was all she would ever be to him.
Now, as she brushed herself down surrounded by strange men, Elsie was once more being used for someone else’s gain. Another useful asset, only to a different end.
“I would like tae bathe,” she demanded.
Laird Mackay had his back to her when she spoke, and turning to look at her, he shook his head. “Nae a chance.”
“Are we nae tae get married today?” she countered. “Ye would like me tae present mesel’ tae the priest unkempt, would ye?”
His brows furrowed as he considered her point. Of course, she could not care less about the priest, or looking unkempt in front of the cleric. It only served as an excuse to have the opportunity to freshen herself.
“Fine,” the laird said eventually. “But I will come with ye.”
Elsie’s eyes flew wide. “Certainly nae,” she balked, feeling embarrassed at the very idea of it. “I am a lady, and as such, I need me privacy.”
For another minute, the laird didn’t answer, and then, with a slight smirk, he nodded. “All right.”
But his expression quickly made Elsie suspicious, and staring at him, she said, “Ye swear, ye willnae look?”
Raising his right hand, he smirked. “I swear.”
How much she was supposed to trust him, Elsie had no idea. How much could one trust a man who had just snatched a lady from a chapel moments before her vows?
