Page 64 of Married to the Ruthless Highlander
He raised an army for me… His bride.
Wringing out the cloth to begin cleaning the cut on his left arm, she wondered if this was how Helen of Troy felt. Although, of course,shehad not wanted an armada to be sent after her, and the entire debacle had not ended well for anyone. But still…
“Once I’ve sent ye to the healer, I wouldnae mind speakin’ to him,” she said, carefully wiping away the dried blood. “Ye can join me if Sorcha deems ye well enough. Or Ersie can. I willnae speak with him for long—but I doubt I’ll rest tonight if I dinnae find out why he threatened me.”
She shuddered despite the heat from the fireplace, remembering that that beastly bear of a man had been right there in her bedchamber. Not to mention the things he had permitted his two associates to do to her on the shore of Loch Dubh.
Doughall drew his hand back, curling it into a fist. His eyes clouded over, darting to the flames in the grate.
Freya frowned. “Yedidbring him back to see justice done, did ye nae?”
“There was nay need,” he replied gruffly. “He told me why, right before I cut him in two.”
She could not stop the gasp that slipped past her lips. Seeing him like this, wounded and stripped half bare, his touch and looksmore gentle than they had been before, it was easy to forget the brutal warrior that he was.
“It was the reason ye thought,” Doughall continued, meeting her gaze once more. His wolfish eyes were flinty. Cold. “Yer words to yer braither got James killed—rightly, aye, but Lewis didnae see it that way. He wanted yer life to make things even.”
“Och…” Freya did her best to concentrate on trailing the cloth over Doughall’s sculpted body, and not on Lewis’s final moments.
“Ye’re nae seriously goin’ to tell me that ye wish the wretch was alive, are ye?” Anger laced Doughall’s voice. “What he was goin’ to do to ye was unforgivable. He got what he deserved.”
She swallowed uncomfortably. “But was that really necessary? Would throwin’ him in the dungeons nae have been more of a punishment?”
“To bring himcloserto ye?” Doughall rasped, staring at her incredulously.
She shrugged. “I just… Och, I dinnae ken what I think.” She paused in her cleaning and sat back on her haunches, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. “It… reminds me of the first time we stayed here, at yer castle. That’s all.”
“What are ye talkin’ about?”
“Ye didnae see me, but… I was walkin’ back from the kitchens at night,” Freya replied, her nerves jittering. “I heard raised voices, and… I got curious. Ye can tell me I should’ve been in bed—I ken that already—but it doesnae change what I saw. I watched ye beat that poor servant to death, and?—”
Recognition flickered in his gray eyes, his head tilting slightly to the side. “Is that why ye’ve avoided me all these years? Is that why ye kept lookin’ at me like I was the Devil himself?”
“Perhaps, but… what I’ve seen of ye since has given me hope that it’s nae all rage and a bad temper in there,” she replied hastily, pointing toward his heart. “And when we’re wed, I’d like to help ye, so ye’re nae so quick to take yer anger out on others.”
He let out a dark, mirthless laugh. “I dinnae need yer help, Freya. That ‘poor servant’ had attacked a maid in the most despicable way. His death washerjustice.” He took a deep breath, his expression becoming eerily calm. “And the man I killed today attackedye, would’ve let his men do those same despicable things first, and then threatened yer life. I dinnae regret anythin’. He deserved what he got. In truth, I wish I could kill him again for each of his crimes against ye.”
Freya blinked at him in disbelief, ignoring the damp patch that was forming on the skirt of her dress where she was holding the wet cloth. For so many years, she had assumed that what she had witnessed of his brutality was just that—the casual violence of a monstrous devil. Could it be true that he was protecting the honor of a woman?
“Ye’re goin’ to be part of me clan,” he continued. “I do what must be done for those under me stewardship. More than that, ye’re goin’ to be me wife.Nay onethreatens me wife and lives. There are nay exceptions.”
“A wife ye never wanted,” she blurted out, too overwhelmed by the revelation to think of anything better to say.
There were so many questions she wanted to ask about the maid whose honor he had defended, and why he allowed everyone to believe he was a devil if he had such… admirable morals, but none of them would rise to the surface. Her throat had constricted around all rational, reasonable words.
He sighed. “But a wife I got anyway, so ye’d better get accustomed to the way I do things.” He leaned forward, taking her chin in his hand. “Thisis why I cannae let ye ken where I’m goin’ when I need to take action immediately. Sometimes, even a moment’s delay, a moment’s hesitation, means ye’re too late.”
Perhaps she was imagining things, but she could have sworn his voice faltered for a split second.
“And I couldnae bear bein’ a moment too late to get to ye if ye were in danger,” he added thickly. “So, be a good wife. Ask nothin’ more of me than what I have already offered and given.”
For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her.Hopedhe would kiss her and carry her to her bed, hold her through the night and relieve her of the lingering tension. She longed to feel those arms around her, those lips on hers, his touch on her eagerflesh—longed to touch him in return, to ease his troubles as he could ease hers.
So, her heart sank when he got to his feet, left his shirt on the floor, and strode to the door. She watched the rippling muscles in his back, her fingertips desperate to explore every contour, every inch of his warm skin, her heart soaring when he paused.
Stay with me… Dinnae leave… Please…
She willed herself to say the words, but he got there ahead of her.
