Page 2 of Bound to a Scot
It was less about protecting her than it was about her husband showing his strength. He wanted anybody who saw the group who they were and more importantly, who their laird was. Burchard wanted people who saw his sigil to associate it with strength, force, power. Even more, he wanted people who saw his sigil to be afraid—too afraid to ever oppose him.
It was all theater with Burchard though, for he himself was a weak man. A bully. A coward. If not for the armed men who surrounded him, nobody would fear Burchard Macfie. But thatwas the point. He had wealth and he had men around him who were fierce, loyal, and as cruel as he was.
Emmeline’s entourage marched her into theThree Crowns Inn. The half-filled common room was large and dimly lit. The heavy odor of pipe smoke filled the air and a thick cloud of it hugged the rafters in the ceiling over her head. The flames in the oversized fireplace cast flickering shadows across the walls and it put out enough heat to beat back the bitter cold outside.
Her entourage spread out, shaking off their cloaks and took seats near the fire. A couple of barmaids bustled around, dropping off cups of warm, mulled wine. Even through the stench of the pipe smoke, Emmeline could smell the mélange of spices drifting from the mugs.
“Ye’ll be in a room on the second floor, me lady,” Titus said. “Third room down on the right. There’s a bathtub and I’ll make sure they have hot water brought up?—”
“I’ll be havin’ a drink before I go tae bed.”
“Me lady, I think ye should get some sleep. Assumin’ this bleedin’ storm breaks, we’ve got a long road tomorrow?—”
“Ye’ll nae tell me what tae dae, Titus,” she growled. “If I’ve a mind tae have a cup of wine, I’ll be havin’ it. Ye’re free tae go tae bed since I’ve got nay need fer ye any more this evenin’.”
Titus frowned, an expression of irritation crossing his face. She knew he was tired. She could see it in his face. He did not look like a man who fancied staying up any later than he had to. But he also looked afraid of shirking the responsibility his laird had given him and then finding out. Emmeline leaned closer to him and pitched her voice low.
“Feel free tae go tae bed, Titus,” she said. “I’ll nae tell Burchard ye took yer eyes off me long enough fer me tae have a bleedin’ cup of wine. Besides, there are a dozen of yer men in the common room. ‘Tis nae like I could go anywhere, even if I wanted tae.”
He hesitated and seemed like he might take her up on the offer, but then shook his head, and Emmeline felt her heart sink.
“I’ve got me orders,” he said.
Part of her wanted to inconvenience him and deny him sleep just to annoy him. It only seemed fitting since he annoyed her. She’d been cooped up in her cabin aboard the ship for so long, the last thing she wanted to do was go coop herself up in a room again. She gave serious thought to having a mug of wine just to stretch her legs a bit. But her distaste at the thought of having Titus hovering over her for the rest of the night outweighed her desire for a little bit of freedom, if only in the common room, and she muttered under her breath.
She finally snorted. “Fine. I’ll go tae me bleedin’ room if it gets me away from ye, if only fer a little while.”
“’Tis wise,” Titus said.
Emmeline turned to go but paused when her gaze fell upon a man sitting in a corner near the fire by himself. Although he was seated, she could tell he was tall. He had wide shoulders and a body that looked taut with thick, corded muscle. His hair and beard were so blonde, they were almost white, and his jade green eyes sparkled in the firelight. The sleeves of his tunic were rolled up, revealing dark tattoos that covered a thick web of scars, and he had an air of mystery and danger about him that made her heart skip a beat.
As if sensing her eyes on him, the man turned and when their eyes met, she gasped. Her heart felt like it stopped dead in her chest and her stomach lurched harder than when she’d been aboard the rocking, bucking ship. The man raised his mug and took a drink, still staring at her over the rim of his cup, making Emmeline’s heart flutter wildly.
Titus’ voice cut into her thoughts annoyingly. “Me lady, yer room?—”
She rounded on him. “I ken where me room is. I’m nae bleedin’ deaf.”
Emmeline turned back to the blond-haired stranger, but he’d already turned his gaze back to the fire. She watched, for just a moment, the way the bright, orange light from the fire flickered across his strong jawline and striking profile. Her heart thundering in her ears, she turned and pounded up the stairs, desperate to be away from Titus.
She burst into her room and slammed the door behind her, shutting Titus out, then walked across the room and flopped onto her bed. With images of the blond-haired stranger still dancing through her mind, she stared up at the ceiling, a small smile curling the corners of her mouth. She knew she should get some rest. The journey back to Castle Macfie would be long. But as she thought about the man’s sparkling green eyes, Emmeline knew sleep would not be coming anytime soon.
CHAPTER TWO
Maddox turned back to where the woman had been standing, disappointed to find that she was already gone. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman Maddox had ever seen. When their eyes had met, he had felt his heart leap into his throat. Even now, just thinking about her, he felt his stomach turn over on itself.
“Another cup of wine?”
He turned to the barmaid and nodded. She gave him a flirtatious smile as she set another cup down on the table in front of him before taking the empty one and setting it on her tray.
“’Tis some weather out there, eh?” she asked.
Maddox nodded but said nothing as he tossed a couple of coppers onto her tray. He wasn’t interested in having a conversation with her. She was pretty enough and maybe there had been a time in his life when he would have bedded her forsport. But that time in his life was long over. He was no longer that sort of man. The barmaid, perhaps sensing his distinct lack of desire, turned and walked away.
As he stared into the flames, sipping his mulled wine, he pictured the woman in his mind’s eye. Half a foot shorter than him at least, she had a petite but curvy figure. Her long hair was the color of warm chocolate, and her eyes were as vibrantly green as a meadow of grass in springtime. He imagined brushing his fingers across her soft, alabaster-colored skin and shuddered. The woman had stirred something deep inside of him. Something he hadn’t felt in a long time.
He had no idea who she was, but Maddox knew that she was somebody. The fact that she’d come in with a dozen armed men wearing tunics with a sigil from a house he didn’t recognize was a testament to that. He thought she must have been some highborn lady who ordinarily wouldn’t stay in a place like theThree Crowns, but like most everybody else under that roof, she had been driven indoors to seek shelter from the storm raging outside.
Maddox himself would not be sitting in theThree Crowns, nor Colonsay at all, if it was not out of necessity. His clan was failing. Life in his lands was growing more difficult by the season. And though he cared for very little these days, he did not want his people to suffer for his indifference and neglect. The only reason he was in Colonsay was because he had a chance to fix things and thus make life better for his people.
