Page 10 of Captured By the Highland Devil
Her defiance maddened him just as much as her clean, feminine scent. But he could not lose his head. This arrangement was one forced upon him, not one he wanted. Moreover, the lass was an innocent; virginity held no special appeal for him, he preferred bed partners who knew what they were doing.
“How did ye get that scar?”
Silence greeted her question.
“Did it come from the war ye waged against the people in me home?” she asked. “Innocent people who ye slaughtered like sacrificial lambs?”
Ruben clenched his jaw tight. “Ye ken nothin’ about that war.”
“Don’t I?” she challenged. “I can give ye the names of the women ye left as widows, and the children ye left fatherless. Ye caused a lot of misery in these lands, and to date, ye have never given anyone an answer for yer crimes.”
“Ye ken nothin’ of which ye speak,” Ruben growled.
“Then tell me,” Paige demanded. “Tell me what happened.”
“I owe ye and yer faither nothin’,” Ruben snarled. “Listen and listen closely, me only duty here is to marry ye on behest of the King. That is as far as I am obligated to do when it comes to ye. I owe ye nay answers or explanation aside from what is necessary. Do ye understand?”
“I want ye to tell me why ye killed forty-two men and fifteen boys nae even ready to be men.” Paige’s tone told him she was not letting up on the issue.
Ruben wanted to curse, what sort of stubborn temperament was he saddled with?
“If ye daenae cease with these questions I am tempted to let ye down so ye can walk the way,” he said. “These woods have wild boars, wild dogs, ravenous wolves and adders. T’is rare to come across those serpents but ye just might. Let us see if ye can survive the night alone.”
“A decent man would tell me what I want to ken,” she said.
“A charitable man would leave ye with a dagger in the woodland,” Ruben rerouted the conversation. “Ye have two choices, ye can either go to yer new home in peace or ye can stay in the woods. T’is yer choice. This is the last time I will offer. God’s blood ye are a stubborn one.”
She did not speak for at least two more miles and when she did, her words were cold, laced with dislike. “I wish to be away from ye,” she said.
“I saw the paupers’ graves we had to bury our men and boys in.” Paige continued. “I sat with women who were heartbroken and lost, killed with grief and laid low because of what ye did. Ye are cruel and inhuman, without a shred of decency.”
“Ye are half-right,” he said. “I am cruel but I am human. If and when I choose to be beastly, there are many reasons why, but ye may nae understand any of them. Now, be quiet.”
Paige exhaled and faced forward; she felt the tears springing to her eyes but forced them back. She could not dare cry, she could not dare let one tear slip. She had to be strong and not let this shark smell the blood in the water.
Any ounce of frailty would cost her more than it would gain her with this man— not man, this brute. She did know self-preservation though and clamped her lips shut.
She did not know this side of the country and with the large swathe of woodland, she could not dare the chance of getting left.
He would nae dare. Faither already warned him and I trust he will be true to his words.
One thing she knew for sure, though: he might not see her as his wife or the true lady of the clan, but Paige vowed to herself that she would not be treated poorly. She promised herself not to be controlled or disrespected by him or any of the other clanspeople.
Even if she was only there by demand of the King, she would never let them rule over her. Even if Ruben and his men only saw her as a pawn, she would demand her basic human decency.
She had not chosen this, and she would keep fighting for her freedom. Paige had to trust that her spirit would never break, not with this. Surely one day the king would be persuaded by her plea and order an annulment as soon as possible.
I willnae be kept as a prisoner in a marriage that will give me more misery than happiness. I will speak to the King.
While she mulled over these thoughts, she lost track of time. As the sun reached its midday height through patchy clouds, they began climbing a slope.
Sitting side-saddle for such a long distance—she assumed they’d been traveling for at least two hours now—was straining. Paige would rather suffer the pain than let him know she was as he assumed her to be—frail, weak and a burden.
Keeping her back straight was getting to be tiring too and little but little, her rigid posture began to slacken. After a while, she felt her eyelids grow heavy, and she succumbed to the weariness clinging to her.
The last thing she remembered before slipping off to sleep was the feel of him letting go of the reins with his left hand and wrapping his arm around her middle, pulling her back into his chest. She sank into the warm hardness of his chest, her head lolling to his shoulder.
When she came to, she felt the fast canter of the horse’s motion slowing. Half-awake she was very conscious of the warmth and hardness of a body behind her.
