Page 17 of Bound to a Scot
“Ye’re an insufferable idiot.”
“’Tis nae the first time I’ve heard that either.”
She stamped her foot again as a frustrated growl burst from her throat. She looked away for a moment, her belly churning and her heart pounding against her ribs. She hated that he’d pulled that admission from her. Hated that he’d been able to make agame of the whole thing. She was going to give him a piece of her mind, but when she turned back to him, his expression had changed. The smarmy arrogance had faded, replaced by something more sober.
“I dinnae want tae marry her, ye ken. Cecilia,” he said. “I’ve asked yer husband tae reconsider sealin’ our pact that way. Tae settle it with me word. But he willnae budge. He’s insistin’ on bondin’ our clans through marriage.”
Emmeline’s heart lurched and she put a hand to her chest, trying to stave off the waves of emotion that battered her inside. She believed Maddox when he said he didn’t want to marry Cecilia and she believed that Burchard was forcing his hand. And it made her hate her husband all the more. Underneath that, though, she felt a current of something else. Jealousy. If she was being honest, she didn’t like the thought of Maddox marrying anybody at all, and she hated herself for feeling that way.
“I just want ye tae ken that if this marriage happens, I’ll be good tae her,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft. “I can see how much she means tae ye and I’m nae one tae mistreat a woman. ‘Tis nae me way.”
“She’s too young tae marry,” Emmeline said miserably.
“I agree with ye. But I need tae think of me people. And if this is the only way I can secure their future, I’ve nae got a choice in the matter.”
She sighed heavily. “I cannae tell ye how much I hate women bein’ used fer the games men play. ‘Tis nae right.”
“Again, I agree with ye. But these are the hands we’ve been dealt. We’ve got nay choice but tae play along,” he said. “I give ye me word though, I’ll nae mistreat her.”
“Bein’ forced tae marry ye is mistreatment enough. She’s too young tae be producin’ yer heirs,” Emmeline grumbled.
“I’ve got nay intention of makin’ her produce me heirs. I’ve got nay intention of beddin’ her. Nae until she’s old enough tae understand and consent… well, until she’s old enough. And if she daesnae consent, be assured I’ll never force her tae dae anythin’.”
“Why would ye promise that? She’d be yer wife. Yer property.”
His face grew stony. “Because I dinnae think of a woman as property.”
His words surprised her. Most men she knew would have leapt at the chance to bed a young virgin like Cecilia. It seemed to be a badge of honor among some. Burchard had been that way. He hadn’t hesitated to bed her and he had been rough about it. Nothing about their coupling had been kind or romantic. It had been nothing like she’d imagined as a girl when she thought of marrying. Just thinking about it now, made her skin crawl.
As she looked into Maddox’s eyes though, she saw his sincerity. She believed him when he said he had no intention of bedding Cecilia. Not while she was so young. It was insane. She did not know him and had no reason to believe him and yet, she did. She sensed that beneath his gruff and rugged exterior was a kindness she wasn’t used to seeing in men. Very few men in her life had ever been gentle with her. And though he swaggered and blustered like many of them, Emmeline sensed something far different in Maddox.
He was a contradiction. An enigma. The more she learned about him the less sense he made. He was a puzzle to her and if there was one thing Emmeline loved, it was solving puzzles. She loved taking disparate pieces and putting them together. She had a keen analytical mind that allowed her to see the patterns and figure out how something worked. Maddox MacLachlan was something different though, and she saw no discernible patterns. She had no idea how he worked.
“I’d rather nae marry her, but I’ll take good care of her, Emmeline. I’ll be good tae her.”
She nodded. “I believe ye. And I thank ye fer yer kindness.”
Their gazes lingered on each other and the air between them crackled with the tension of unspoken words. She felt like there was more he wanted to say but was holding himself back. That he would not give in to the emotion she saw in his eyes. It was something she could relate to. All too well, in fact. Emmeline cleared her throat and patted her hair, straightening up andputting a proper, appropriate expression befitting the lady of the keep on her face.
“We should go,” she said. “I thank ye fer speakin’ with me.”
“Emmeline—”
His words were thick with the same emotion she saw in his face and Emmeline knew she could not hear his words. If she did, she feared her resolve would crumble and she would give in to the wants and desires flowing through her veins hotter than fire, filling her with a heat she knew was entirely inappropriate.
“I must go,” she said.
Turning quickly, she opened the door to the privy and ran face first into the hard, broad chest of the man standing in the corridor. She gasped and looked up, finding herself staring into the narrow green eyes of Lorn MacMillan, her husband’s war leader. She watched his eyes cut from her to Maddox who stood in the doorway of the privy behind her.
“Me lady,” Lorn said, his voice gruff and gravelly. “Me laird.”
CHAPTER NINE
Hands clasped behind his back, Maddox paced back and forth across his bedchamber, his face clouded over with the dark anger that flowed through his body like a raging river. Adair sat on the chair, one leg crossed over the other, watching him with a smirk of amusement upon his lips. Maddox tried to ignore him.
“Why are ye so worked up about this?” Adair asked.
“I didnae like the way the man was lookin’ at her. It was too… familiar. ‘Twas the sort of look one might give tae a lover.”
