Page 6 of The Laird's Bride
A home of her own. The woman of the house. Not like she was now, an indigent relative but treated like a servant, taken in begrudgingly and reminded of it daily.
Her own home. And a place of honor in it as his wife.
It was probably a joke. He was making a May game of her, but oh, oh, if it were true. Mad or tetched or drunk, he was young and beautiful and the thought of those lithe, powerful limbs wrapping around her made her shiver.
She gazed into his eyes, trying to read his mind. Steady hazel eyes met hers, telling her nothing. But they were steady, not wild.
She moistened her lips and took the plunge. "Ye truly mean it?"
"I do." He gave a curt nod to emphasize it.
He sounded sincere. He looked sincere. Oh God, let him be sincere, she prayed.
She took a deep breath. "Well then, I'll marry you."
The man who'd tried to kidnap her gave a loud whoop, causing his horse to toss its head and plunge restlessly. "She said yes! I win! Pay up, Donald!"
His words punched into Jeannie's gut. All the breath left her lungs. It was a joke after all. A bet. See if you could get the gullible girl to believe a strange man would offer her marriage.
And the fool girl had believed. Had even allowed herself to hope. After all she'd been through in the last few years, had she learned nothing?
She tried to look as if she'd known it all along, as if disappointment and humiliation weren't about to choke her. "A bet, was it, lads? A laugh at my expense?" she said with an attempt at breezy unconcern. "Very funny. Enjoy your winnings. I'm awa' then to my sheep." She turned away so they would not see the hot tears prickling at her eyelids.
A firm hand wrapped gently around her elbow, holding her back. "It wasn't a joke," he told her. "There was a bet, yes, but my cousins will bet on anything and everything."
Jeannie stared down at his mud-caked boots, angry and ashamed. The apparent sincerity in his voice confused and angered her. She refused to be caught a second time.
"I meant it," he went on. "And you said you'd wed me."
She jerked her arm away. She wouldn't be made a fool of twice. "As if you'd marry a girl like me, a girl you don't even know. And as if I'd marry a man on an acquaintance of five minutes."
"You said you would."
She made a rude noise. "I was only going along with the joke. Why would I want to marry a man I'd just met?"
"Perhaps because you're desperate—"
She looked up at him then, glaring, ready to spit in his eye.
"Maybe even as desperate as I am," he finished.
His words stopped her cold. "You? Desperate?" she managed after a moment. "Why would you be desperate?"
"I need to gain control of my inheritance. My uncle—my trustee—is spending it like water. I inherit when I turn thirty, or when I wed. If I wait much longer there'll be nothing left."
Jeannie turned his words over in her mind, then shook her head. "You're saying you're to be rich? But there's nobody else you can marry? Only a girl you fished from a bog?"
"There are plenty of other girls," he admitted. "But I swore I'd marry the first woman I met. And that was you."
Marry the first woman he met? Jeannie couldn't believe her ears. She glanced at his cousins who sat on their horses, watching wide-eyed, like great gormless owls, to see what would happen next.
"Is this true?" she demanded. They nodded.
"You'd truly marry a stranger, just to get your hands on your inheritance?"
"I said I would and I never break my word," he said.
"He never breaks his word," the cousins chorused.
