Lairds' Brides Series - book 1 - The Bride by Julie Garwood

[Dalyia]

Lairds' Brides Series

book 1

The Bride

by

Julie Garwood

Product Description:

By edict of the king* the mighty Scottish laird Alec Kincaid must take an English bride. His choice was Jamie* youngest daughter of Baron Jamison...a feisty* violet-eyed beauty. Alec ached to touch her* to tame her* to possess her...forever. But Jamie vowed never to surrender to this highland barbarian.
He was everything her heart warned against—an arrogant scoundrel whose rough good looks spoke of savage pleasures. And thought Kincaid's scorching kisses fired her blood* she brazenly resisted him...until one rapturous moment quelled their clash of wills* and something far more dangerous than desire threatened to conquer her senses...

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محتوى مخفي

يجب عليك الرد لرؤية النص المخفي

[Dalyia]

Contents


Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen

[Dalyia]

Prologue



Contents - Next



Scotland* 1100

The deathwatch was over.

Alec Kincaid's woman was finally being laid to rest. The weather was foul* as foul as the expressions on the faces of those few clan members gathered around the burial sight atop the stark ridge.

It was unholy ground Helena Louise Kincaid was being placed in* for the new bride of the mighty chieftain had taken her own life and was therefore doomed to a resting place outside the true Christian cemetery. The church wouldn't allow a body with a sure mortal sin to reside inside the blessed ground. A black soul was like a bad apple* the church leaders supposed* and the thought of one rotten soul staining the pure ones was too grave a possibility to ignore.

Hard rain spit down on the clansmen. The body* wrapped in the Kincaid red* black* and heather-colored plaid* was dripping wet and awkwardly weighty when settled inside the fresh pine box. Alec Kincaid saw to the task alone* allowing no other to touch his dead wife.

The old priest* Father Murdock* stood a respectable distance away from the others. He didn't look at all comfort able with the lack of proper ceremony. There weren't any prayers to cover death by suicide. And what solace could he possibly offer the mourners when one and all knew Helena was already on her way to hell? The church had decreed her sorry fate. Eternity by fire was the only penalty for suicide.

It hasn't been easy for me. I stand beside the priest* my expression as solemn as those of the other clan members. I also offer a prayer* though not for Helena's benefit. No* I give the Lord my thanks because the chore is finally finished.

Helena took the longest time dying. Three whole days of agony and suspense I had to endure* and all the while praying she wouldn't open her eyes or speak the damning truth.

Kincaid's bride put me through an ordeal* dragging out the dying time. She did it just to keep me churning inside* of course. I stopped the torment when I was finally given a chance* easily snuffing the breath out of her by holding the Kincaid plaid over her face. It didn't take me long at all* and Helena* in her weakened state* didn't put up much of a fuss.

God* it was a satisfying moment. The fear of being found out made my hands sweat* yet the thrill of it sent a burst of strength down my spine at the same time.

I got away with murder! Oh* how I wish I could boast of my cunning. I cannot say a word* of course* and I dare not let my joy show in my gaze.

I turn my attention to Alec Kincaid now. Helena's husband stands by the gaping hole in the ground. His hands are fisted at his sides and his head is bowed. I wonder if he's angry or saddened by his bride's sinful death. It's difficult to know what's going on inside his mind* for he always keeps his emotions carefully masked.

It doesn't matter to me what the Kincaid is feeling now. He'll get over her death* given the passage of time. And time is what I need* too* before I challenge him for my rightful place.

The priest suddenly coughs* a racking* aching sound that turns my attention back to him. He looks as though he wants to weep. I stare at him until he regains his composure. Then he begins to shake his head. I now know what he's thinking. The thought is there* on his face* for everyone to see.

The Kincaid woman has shamed them all.
God help me* I must not laugh.

[Dalyia]

Chapter One



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England* 1102

They said he killed his first wife.

Papa said maybe she needed killing. It was a most unfortunate remark for a father to make in front of his daughters* and Baron Jamison realized his blunder as soon as the words were out of his mouth. He was* of course* immediately made sorry for blurting out his unkind comment.

Three of his four daughters had already taken to heart the foul gossip about Alec Kincaid. They didn't much care for their father's view on the atrocity* either. The baron's twins* Agnes and Alice* wept loudly and* as was their particularly irritating habit* in unison as well* while their usually sweet-tempered sister Mary marched a brisk path around the oblong table in the great hall* where their confused father sat slumped over a goblet of guilt-soothing ale. In between the twins' noisy choruses of outrage* his gentle little Mary interjected one sinful tattle after another she'd heard about the Highland warrior who would be arriving at their home in a paltry week's time.

Mary* deliberately or nay* was stirring the twins into a full lather of snorting and screeching. It was enough to try the patience of the devil himself.

Papa tried to give the Scotsman his full defense. Since he'd never actually met the warrior* or heard anything but ill* unrepeatable rumors about the man's black character* he was therefore forced to make up all his favorable remarks.

And all for naught.

Aye* it was wasted effort on his part* for his daughters weren't paying the least attention to what he was saying. That shouldn't have surprised him* he realized with a grunt and a good belch; his angels never listened to his opinions.

The baron was terribly inept at soothing his daughters when they were in a state* a fact that hadn't particularly bothered him until today. Now however* he felt it most important to gain the upper hand. He didn't want to look the fool in front of his uninvited guests* be they Scots or nay* and fool he'd certainly be called if his daughters continued to ignore his instructions.

After downing a third gulp of ale* the baron summoned up a bit of gumption. He slammed his fist down on the wooden table as an attention-getter* then announced that all this talk about the Scotsman being a murderer was nonsense.

When that statement didn't get any reaction or notice* his irritation got the better of him. All right* then* he decided* if all the gossip turned true* then mayhap the Scotsman's wife had been deserving of the foul deed. It had probably just started out as a proper thrashing* he speculated* and as things had a way of doing* the beating had gotten a wee bit out of hand.

That explanation made perfectly good sense to Baron Jamison. His comments gained him an attentive audience* too* but the incredulous looks on his daughters' faces weren't the result he'd hoped to accomplish. His precious angels stared at him in horror* as if they'd just spotted a giant leech hanging off the tip of his nose. They thought him daft* he suddenly realized. The baron's weak temper exploded full measure then* and he bellowed that the sorry woman had probably sassed her lord back once too often. It was a lesson that his disrespectful daughters would do well to take to heart.

The baron had only meant to put the fear of God and father into his daughters. He knew he'd failed in the extreme when the twins started shouting again. The sound made his head ache. He cupped his hands over his ears to block out the grating noise* then closed his eyes against the hot glare Mary was giving him. The baron actually slumped lower in his chair* until his knobby knees were scraping the floor. His head was bent* his gumption gone* and in desperation* he turned to his faithful servant* Herman* and ordered him to fetch his youngest daughter.

The gray-haired servant looked relieved by the order* nodding several times before shuffling out of the room to do his lord's bidding. The baron could have sworn on the Holy Cross that he heard the servant mutter under his breath that it was high time that order was given.

A scant ten minutes elapsed before the baron's namesake walked into the middle of the chaos. Baron Jamison immediately straightened in his chair. After giving Herman a good glare to let him know he'd heard his whispered criticism* he let go of his scowl. And when he turned to watch his youngest* he let out a long sigh of relief.

His Jamie would take charge.

Baron Jamison realized he was smiling now* then admitted to himself that it just wasn't possible to stay sour when his Jamie was near.

She was such a bewitching sight* so pleasing to look upon* in fact* that a man could forget all his worries. Her presence was as commanding as her beauty* too. Jamie had been endowed with her mama's handsome looks. She had long raven-colored hair* violet eyes that reminded her papa of springtime* and skin as flawless and pure as her heart.

Although the baron boasted of loving all his daughters* in secret* Jamie was his pride and joy. It was a most amazing fact* considering he wasn't her true blood father. Jamie's mother was the baron's second wife. She had come to him when she was nearly full term with her daughter. The man who'd fathered Jamie had died in battle* a bare month after wedding and bedding his bride.

The baron had accepted the infant as his own* forbidding anyone to refer to her as his stepdaughter. From the moment he'd first held her in his arms* she had belonged to him.

Jamie was the youngest and the most magnificent of his angels. The twins* and Mary as well* were gifted with a quiet beauty* the kind that grew on a man with time and notice* but his dear little Jamie* with just one look* could fairly knock the wind out of a man. Her smile had been known to nudge a knight clear off his mount* or so her papa liked to exaggerate to his friends.

Yet there was no petty jealousy among his girls. Agnes* Alice* and Mary instinctively turned to their little sister for guidance in all matters of significance. They leaned on her almost as often as their papa did.

Jamie was now the true mistress of their home. Since the day of her mama's burial* his youngest had taken on that burden. She'd proven her value early* and the baron* liking order but having no gift for establishing it* had been most relieved to give Jamie full responsibility.

She never disappointed him. Jamie was such a sensible* untroubling daughter. She never cried* either* not since the day her mama passed on. Agnes and Alice would have done well to learn from their sister's disciplined nature* the baron thought. They tended to cry over just about everything. To his mind* their looks saved them from being completely worthless* but still he pitied the lords who would someday be saddled with his emotional daughters.

The baron worried most for his Mary. Though he never voiced the criticism* he knew she was a might more selfish than was considered fashionable. She put her own wants above those of her sisters. The bigger sin* however* was putting herself above her papa.

Aye* Mary was a worry* and a mischief-maker* too. She liked to plow up trouble just for the sheer joy of it. The baron had a nagging suspicion that Jamie was giving Mary unladylike ideas* but he never dared voice that notion* lest he be proven wrong* and fall from grace in his youngest's eyes.

Yet even though Jamie was his favorite* the baron wasn't completely oblivious to her flaws. Her temper* though seldom unleashed* could ignite a forest fire. She had a stubborn crook in her nature* too. She had inherited her mama's skill for healing* even though he'd specifically forbidden that practice. Nay* the baron wasn't pleased with that inclination* for the serfs and the house servants were constantly pulling her away from her primary duty of seeing to his comforts. Jamie was dragged out of her bed during the middle of the night quite frequently to patch up a knife wound or ease a new life into the world. The baron didn't particularly mind the nighttime calls* as he was usually sleeping quite soundly in his own bed and was therefore not inconvenienced* but he took grave exception to the daytime interruptions* especially when he had to wait for his dinner because his daughter was busy tending the injured or sick.

That thought made him sigh with regret. Then he realized the twins had quit their screeching. Jamie had already quieted the storm. Baron Jamison motioned to his steward to refill his goblet and leaned back to watch his daughter continue to weave her magic.

Agnes* Alice* and Mary had rushed over to their sister the moment she entered the room. Each was trying to tell a different version of the story.

Jamie couldn't make any sense out of their comments. "Come and sit with Papa at the table*" she suggested in her husky voice. "Then we shall sort through this new problem like a family*" she added with a coaxing smile.

"'Tis more than a mere problem this time*" Alice wailed* mopping at the corners of her eyes. "I don't think this can be sorted out* Jamie. Truly I don't."

"Papa's done it this time*" Agnes muttered. The younger twin dragged out one of the stools from under the table* sat down* and gave her father a fierce glare. "As usual* this is all his fault."

"This trickery ain't my doing*" the baron whined. "So you can quit your frowning at me* missy. I'm obeying my king's command* and that be that."

"Papa* please don't get yourself upset*" Jamie cautioned. She reached over to pat her father's hand. Then she turned to Mary. "You seem to be the most in control. Agnes* quit your whimpering so I may hear what has happened. Mary* will you please explain?"

"'Tis the missive from King Henry*" Mary answered. She paused to brush a lock of pale brown hair over her shoulder* then folded her hands on the tabletop. "It seems our king is most upset with Papa again."

"Upset? Mary* he's bloody furious*" Alice interjected.

Mary nodded before continuing. "Papa didn't send in his taxes*" she announced with a frown in her father's direction. "The king is making an example of our papa."

In unison the twins turned to add their glares.

Jamie let out a weary sigh. "Please go on* Mary*" she requested. "I would hear all of this."

"Well* since King Henry has married that Scottish princess… What is her name* Alice?"

"Matilda."

"Yes* Matilda. Lord* how could I forget the name of our queen?"

"'Tis simple enough for me to understand how you could forget*" Agnes said. "Papa's never taken us to court and we've never had a single really important visitor. We're as isolated as lepers out here in the middle of nowhere."

"Agnes* you're straying from our topic*" Jamie announced. Her voice was strained with impatience. "Mary* do go on."

"Well* King Henry seems to think we must all be wed to Scots*" Mary stated.

Alice shook her head. "Nay* Mary. He doesn't want all of us wed to Scots. Just one of us. And the barbarian gets to pick from the lot of us. God help me* it's so humiliating."

"Humiliating? Whoever is chosen will certainly be going to her death* Alice. If the man killed one wife* he's bound to kill another. And that* sister* is a little more than just humiliating*" Mary pronounced.

"What?" Jamie gasped out* clearly appalled by such talk.

Alice ignored Jamie's outburst. "I heard his first wife killed herself*" she interjected.

"Papa* how could you?'' Mary shouted her question. She looked as if she wanted to strike her father* for her face was flushed and her hands were clenched. "You knew the king would be angry with you for not paying your taxes. Did you not think of the repercussions then?"

"Alice* will you please lower your voice? Shouting won't change this situation*" Jamie said. "We all know how forgetful Papa can be. Why* he probably just forgot to send in the tax money. Isn't that the way of it* Papa?"

"A bit of the way of it* my angel*" the baron hedged.

"Oh* my God. He spent the coins*" Alice said with a groan.

Jamie raised her hand for silence. "Mary* finish this explanation before I start shouting."

"You must understand* Jamie* how difficult it is for us to be reasonable in the face of this atrocity. I shall* however* endeavor to be strong* and explain it in full to you* for I can see how puzzled you are."

Mary took her time straightening her shoulders. Jamie felt like shaking her* so thin had her patience worn. She knew it wouldn't do her cause any good* though* for Mary liked to drag out her comments* no matter what the circumstances. "And?" Jamie prodded.

"As I understand this* a barbarian from the Highlands is coming here next week. He's going to choose one of the three of us—Agnes* Alice* or me—to be his second wife. He killed his first wife* you see. You aren't included in this* Jamie. Papa said we were the only ones named in the king's letter."

"I'm certain he didn't kill his first wife*" Alice said. "Cook says the woman killed herself." Alice crossed herself.

Agnes shook her head. "No. I believe the woman was murdered. Surely she wouldn't kill herself and spend eternity in hell* no matter how terrible her husband was to her."

"Could she have died by accident* do you suppose?" Alice suggested.

"The Scots are known to be clumsy*" Mary said with a shrug of her shoulders.

"And you're known to believe every bit of gossip you hear*" Jamie interjected in a hard voice "Explain what you mean by 'choosing*' Mary*" she added* trying to keep her expression from showing how horrified she was.

"Choose for his bride* of course. Haven't you been listening* Jamie? We have no say in the matter* and our own contracts for marriages are all set aside until the selection has been made."

"We're to be paraded in front of the monster like horses*" Agnes whimpered.

"Oh* I almost forgot*" Mary rushed out. "The Scottish king* Edgar* is also in favor of this marriage* Jamie. Papa said so."

"So the lord might only be doing the bidding of his king and might not want the marriage either*" Alice said.

"Oh* Lord* I hadn't thought of that*" Agnes blurted out. "If he doesn't want to be wed* he'll probably kill his bride before he even reaches his home* wherever in God's name that is."

"Agnes* will you calm yourself? You're screaming again*" Jamie muttered. "You're going to pull your hair out of your scalp if you keep tugging on it so. Besides* you cannot know if you speak truth or fancy about the circumstances of his first wife's death."

"His name is Kincaid* Jamie* and he is a murderer. Papa said he beat his first wife to death*" Agnes advised.

"I said no such thing*" the baron shouted. "I merely suggested—"

"Emmett told us he threw his bride over a cliff*" Mary interjected. She drummed her fingertips on the tabletop while she waited for Jamie's reaction.

"Emmett's only a groom and a lazy one at that*" Jamie returned. "Why would you be listening to his stories?"

Jamie took a deep breath* hoping to calm her queasy stomach. Although she fought against it* her sisters' fear was becoming contagious. She could feel a shiver pass down her spine. She knew better than to voice her concern* though. Bedlam would erupt again.

Her trusting sisters were all staring at her with such hopeful* expectant looks on their faces. They'd just put the problem in her lap and now waited for her to come up with a solution.

Jamie didn't want to fail them. "Papa? Is there some way you can placate our king? Can you still send the taxes to him* perhaps adding a bit more to soothe his temper?"

Baron Jamison shook his head. "I'd have to collect the whole tax all over again. You know as well as I that the serfs' backs are near to broken with their own troubles. The barley crop wasn't good* either. Nay* Jamie* I cannot demand again."

Jamie nodded. She tried to hide her disappointment. She'd hoped there was still a little of the collection left* but her father's answer confirmed her fear that it was all gone.

"Emmett said Papa used up all the coins*" Mary whispered.

"Emmett is just like an old woman carrying tales*" Jamie countered.

"Aye*" their father agreed. "He's always been one to taint the truth. Pay no attention to his rantings*" he added.

"Papa? Why was I excluded?" Jamie asked. "Did the king forget you had four daughters?"

"No* no*" the baron rushed out. He hastily turned his gaze from his daughter to his goblet* for he feared his youngest would see the truth in his eyes. King Henry hadn't excluded Jamie. He'd used the word "daughters" in his message. Baron Jamison* knowing he'd never be able to get along without his youngest taking care of him* had made the decision himself to exclude her. He thought his plan was most cunning. "The king named only Maudie's daughters*" . he announced.

[Dalyia]

"Well* that certainly doesn't make any sense to me*" Agnes remarked between sniffles.

"Perhaps it's because Jamie's the youngest*" Mary suggested. She shrugged* then added* "Who can know what's in our king's mind? Just be thankful* Jamie* that you weren't included in his order. Why* if you were chosen you couldn't marry your Andrew."

"That's the reason*" Agnes interjected. "Baron Andrew is so powerful and well liked. He told us so. He must have swayed our king's mind. Everyone knows how smitten Andrew is with you* Jamie."

"That could be the reason*" Jamie whispered. "If Andrew is as powerful as he says he is."

"I don't think Jamie really wants to marry Andrew*" Mary told the twins. "You needn't frown at me* Jamie. I don't think you even like him very much."

"Papa likes him*" Agnes said. She gave her father another glare before adding* "I wager it's because Andrew has promised to live here so Jamie can continue to slave for—"

"Now* Agnes* please don't start that again*" Jamie begged.

"Why you think it's sinful of me to want to keep Jamie here after her marriage is beyond me*" the baron muttered.

"Everything seems to be beyond you*" Mary murmured.

"Watch what you say* young lady*" he returned. "I'll not allow you to speak so disrespectful like in front of me."

"I know the true reason*" Alice said* "and I'm going to tell Jamie. Andrew paid Papa your dowry* sister* and he—"

"What say you?" Jamie shouted. She nearly leapt out of her chair. "Alice* you're mistaken. Knights do not give a dowry. Papa* you didn't take any coins from Andrew* did you?"

Baron Jamison didn't answer his daughter. He seemed quite taken by the task of swirling his ale in his cup.

His silence was damning.

"Oh* God*" Mary whispered. "Alice* do you realize what you're suggesting? If what you're telling us is true* then our father has all but sold Jamie to Baron Andrew."

"Now* Mary* don't be getting Jamie riled up*" their papa advised.

"I didn't say he sold Jamie to Andrew*" Alice said.

"You did so*" Mary countered.

"I saw Andrew give Papa a cloth bag full of gold coins."

Jamie's head was pounding. She was determined to get to the bottom of this coin exchange* no matter how long it took or how much her head hurt. Sold indeed! The very idea made her stomach turn. "Papa* you didn't really take coins for me* did you?" she asked. She couldn't keep the fear out of her tone.

"No* of course not* my angel."

"Papa? Do you know you call us your angels only when you've done something shameful?" Agnes wailed. "God's truth* I'm beginning to hate that endearment."

"I saw Andrew give Papa the coins* I tell you*" Alice shouted.

"I'm just wondering how you could have known what was inside the cloth bag*" Mary argued. "Do you have the sight* do you suppose?"

"He dropped the bag*" Alice snapped. "Some of the coins fell out."

"It was just a little loan*" their father bellowed to get their attention. "Now hush this talk about selling my baby."

Jamie's shoulders slumped with relief. "There* you see* Alice? It was just a loan Andrew was giving Papa. You had me worrying for naught. Can we return to our original problem now?"

"Papa's back to looking guilty again*" Mary advised.

"Of course Papa looks guilty*" Jamie said. "You needn't rub salt in his wound. I'm sure he's sorry enough as it is."

Baron Jamison smiled at his daughter for defending him. "That's my good little angel*" he praised. "Now* then* Jamie* I want you to stay hidden when the Scotsmen arrive. No sense tempting them with what they can't be having."

The baron didn't realize his blunder until Alice seized on his remark. "Scotsmen* Papa? You speak of more than one. Do you mean to tell us this demon named Kincaid is bringing others with him?"

"He's probably just bringing his family to witness the marriage*" Agnes suggested to her twin.

"Is that the full of it?" Jamie asked her father. She tried to concentrate on the problem at hand* but her thoughts kept returning to the gold coins. Why would her father accept a loan from Andrew?

The baron took his time answering.

"Papa* I have the feeling there's more you'd like to tell us*" Jamie coaxed.

"Good God* you mean there's more?" Mary bellowed.

"Papa* what else are you keeping from us?" Alice shouted.

"Spit it out* Papa*" Agnes demanded.

Jamie motioned for silence again. The urge to grab hold of her father's gray tunic and shake him into speaking nearly overwhelmed her. She could feel her temper boiling. "May I read this missive from our king?" she asked.

"We really should have learned how to read and scribble when Jamie's mama began her instructions*" Agnes remarked with a weary sigh.

"Nonsense*" Agnes scoffed. "No gentle lady needs such instruction. What we really should have done was learn how to speak that God-awful Gaelic language like Jamie*" she announced. "You know I mean no offense* Jamie*" she hastened to add when she caught her sister's frown. " 'Tis the truth I wish I'd learned it with you. Beak did offer to teach all of us*" she ended.

"It gave our stable master pleasure to teach me*" Jamie said. "And Mama was amused. She was bedridden for such a long while before she died."

"Do you mean to tell me this monster from the Highlands cannot speak our language?" Agnes whimpered before bursting into tears.

Jamie might have been able to control her anger if Agnes hadn't started weeping. "What difference will it make* Agnes?" she blurted out. "The man's going to kill his bride* not talk to her."

"So you believe the rumor is true?" Mary gasped.

"No*" Jamie answered* immediately contrite. "I was just jesting." She closed her eyes* said a quick prayer for patience* then turned to Agnes. "It was most unkind of me to get you upset* sister* and I do apologize."

"I would certainly hope so*" Agnes cried.

"Papa* let Jamie look at this missive*" Mary suddenly demanded.

"No*" the baron blurted out. He immediately softened his tone* lest his angels become suspicious of his true motives. "You needn't bother* Jamie. 'Tis simple to tell. There be two Scots coming week next* and two brides going home with them."

Needless to say* the baron's daughters didn't take this added news well. The twins started howling with as much indignation as sleeping babies who'd been pinched awake.

"I'm going to run away*" Mary shouted.

"It would seem to me*" Jamie began in a voice meant to penetrate the noise* "that we must immediately form a plan to dissuade your suitors."

Agnes stopped bellowing in mid-scream. "Plan? What are you thinking?"

"I have thought of a deceitful plan and I'm almost afraid to mention it* but your welfare is at issue and so I'll tell you that if I were the one doing the selecting* I'd certainly stay away from any contender who was… afflicted in some way."

A slow grin transformed Mary's face. She was always the quickest to catch Jamie's thoughts* especially when they were of a devious nature. "Or so ugly as to be painful to look upon*" she said with a nod. Her brown eyes sparkled with mischief. "Agnes* you and Alice may be afflicted. I'm going to be fat and ugly."

"Afflicted?" Alice asked* clearly puzzled. "Do you understand what she means* Agnes?"

Agnes started to laugh. Her nose was red from rubbing and her cheeks were raw from her tears* yet when she smiled* she looked very pretty. "A dread disease* I do believe. We must eat berries* sister. The rash will only last a few hours* so we must time this well."

"Now I see*" Alice said. "We'll make the dull-witted Scots think we always have terrible lumps on our faces."

"I shall drool*" Agnes announced with a haughty nod* "and scratch until they think I'm infested with vile creatures."

The four sisters laughed over that picture. Papa took heart. He smiled at his angels. "There. Do you see* now? I told you it would work out." He hadn't said any such thing* of course* but that fact didn't bother him at all. "I shall go and have my morning lie-down while you continue with your plans." Baron Jamison couldn't leave the hall fast enough.

"These Scots might not care what you look like*" Jamie advised* worrying now that she might have given her sisters false hope.

"We can only pray they're shallow*" Mary returned.

"Is deceiving them a sin?" Alice asked.

"Of course*" Mary answered.

"We'd best not confess to Father Charles*" Agnes whispered. "He'll give us another month of penance. Besides* we're deceiving Scots* if you'll remember. God will certainly understand."

Jamie left her sisters and went to talk to the stable master. Beak* as he was affectionately called by his friends because of his large hawklike nose* was an elderly man who had long ago become Jamie's confidant. She trusted him completely. He never carried her thoughts to others. He was wise in his years* too. He'd taught her all the skills he thought she'd need. In truth* she was more of a son than daughter to him.

They disagreed only when it came to the topic of Baron Jamison. The stable master had made it quite clear that he didn't hold with the way the baron treated his youngest daughter. Since Jamie was content* she couldn't understand why Beak would feel this way. As they could not agree* they carefully avoided the issue of her father's character.

Jamie waited until Beak had sent Emmett out of the stable on an errand* then told him the full story. Beak rubbed his jaw again and again during the telling* a sure indication he was giving the matter his full attention.

"This is really all my fault*" Jamie confessed.

"How do you figure that?" Beak asked.

"I should have seen to the collection of taxes*" Jamie explained. "Now my dear sisters will have to pay the price for my laziness."

"Laziness* my arse*" Beak muttered. "The only chores you ain't responsible for are the taxes and the keeping of the watch* my girl. You're half dead from the work you do. God forgive me for ever teaching you anything. If I hadn't shown you how to ride like the best of them and how to hunt like the best of them* you'd not be acting like the best of them. You're a fair lady* Jamie* but you've taken on the chores of a knight. 'Tis I who am to blame."

Jamie wasn't at all fooled by his forlorn expression. She laughed right in his face. "Many a time you've boasted of my abilities* Beak. You're proud of me and that's that."

"I am proud of you*" Beak said with a grunt. "Still* I'll not be listening to you blame yourself for your father's sins."

"Now* Beak…"

"You say you ain't included in this wife-bidding?" Beak asked. "Don't you think that's a mite odd?"

"I do think it's odd* but our king must have his reasons. It isn't my place to question his decisions."

"Did you happen to look at this missive* Jamie? Did you read it?"

"No* Papa didn't want me to bother with it*" Jamie answered. "Beak* what are you thinking? You've got that mean look in your eyes all of a sudden."

"I'm thinking your papa's up to something*" Beak admitted. "Something shameful. I've known your papa a mite longer than you have* girl. Remember who trailed after your mama when she wed the baron. I was wise to your father's ways afore you could walk. Now I'm telling you your papa's up to something."

"Papa accepted me as his own*" Jamie said. "Mama always told me it didn't matter spit to him that he wasn't my blood father. Please don't forget that kindness* Beak. Papa's a good man."

"Aye* he treated you fair by calling you daughter* but that don't change the facts none."

At that moment the groom* Emmett* came strolling back into the stables. Jamie* knowing the groom's habit of listening in on others' conversations* immediately switched to Gaelic so their talk would continue to be private. "Your loyalty is suspect*" she whispered* shaking her head.

"Spit! I'm loyal to you. No one else gives a holler about your future. Now* quit looking so disgruntled and tell this old man when my fellow Scotsmen will be arriving."

Jamie knew Beak was deliberately edging the conversation away from her father and was thankful. "One week's time* Beak. I must stay hidden away like a prisoner while they're here. Papa thinks it would be for the better if they don't see me* though I don't understand why. It's going to be difficult* too* what with my duties to be seen to each day. Who will do the hunting for our supper? How long do you think they'll be staying* Beak? Most likely a week* don't you suppose? I'll have to salt more pork if—"

"I hope they stay a month*" Beak interrupted. "You'll get a needed rest*" he predicted. "Jamie* I've said it afore and I'll be saying it again. You're digging yourself into an early grave* working from sunup to sunset. I worry about you* lass. I can still remember the young days* afore your mama took ill* God rest her soul. You were no bigger than a gnat* but a hell-raiser all the same. Remember that time I had to climb up the outside of the tower to fetch you down? You screamed my name over and over* you did. And me afeared of heights so shamefully I puked up my supper as soon as I got you down? You'd tied a flimsy rope betwixt the two towers* thinking you could walk across real nimble like."

Jamie smiled over the memory. "I remember you swatted my backside. I couldn't sit down for two days."

"But you denied to your papa that I struck you* didn't you* Jamie* guessing I'd get into trouble?"

"You would have gotten into trouble*" Jamie announced.

Beak laughed. "So you got yourself another good swat from your mama. She wouldn't have punished you none if she'd known I'd already seen to your discipline."

"You saved me from sure death that time*" Jamie admitted.

"I've saved you more than once and that's the truth of it."

"It was a long time ago*" Jamie reminded him* her smile gentle. "I'm all grown up now. I've many responsibilities. Even Andrew understands the way of it* Beak. Why can't you?"

He wasn't about to touch that hot poker. Beak knew he'd hurt her feelings if he told her what he really thought about her Andrew. Although he'd only had the misfortune of meeting Baron Fancy Figure Andrew once* it had been quite enough for him to judge the man's spineless character. Andrew's mind was as tight as his britches. All he had time to think about was himself. God's truth* every time Beak thought about his precious Jamie saddled with such a weakling* his stomach turned sour.

"You're needing a strong man* lass. Aside from me* of course* I don't rightly know if you've ever met up with any real men. And you've still got a wee streak of wildness inside you. You're wanting to be free* whether you realize it or not."

"You're exaggerating* Beak. I'm not wild* not anymore."

"Think I haven't seen you standing on your mare's back while she races through the south meadow* Jamie? I'm sorry I ever taught you that trick. You dare the devil every once in a while* don't you?"

"Beak* you've been watching me?"

"Someone has to keep an eye on you."

Jamie let out a soft sigh* then turned the topic back to the Scotsmen. Beak let her have her way. He hoped that by listening to her talk out her worries* he was in some small measure easing her burden.

When she took her leave to return to her tasks* Beak's mind was reeling with new possibilities.

Baron Jamison was weaving a deception* all right; Beak would have staked his life on it. Well* he wasn't going to let his lord get away with it.

Beak determined to become Jamie's savior. First* however* he'd have to measure these Scots. If one turned out to be a true God-fearing* woman-caring man* then Beak vowed he'd find a way to take the lord aside and tell him Baron Jamison didn't have three daughters; he had four.

Aye* Beak would try to save Jamie from her sorry fate.

God willing* he'd set her free.

The priest* Murdock* has just told us that Alec Kincaid will be coming home with an English bride. There are scowls aplenty* but they aren't because our laird has remarried. Nay* the anger is because his bride is English. Alec simply obeys the order of his king* others say in his defense. Still others wonder aloud how their laird can stomach the task.

God* I hope he falls in love with her. 'Tis too much to ask my Maker now* for Alec is as set against the English as the rest of us.
Still… it would make the kill so much sweeter.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Two

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Alec Kincaid was in a hurry to get home. He'd honored King Edgar's request and stayed in London for nearly a month's time* studying the ways of the English court system and learning all he could about England's unpredictable king. In truth* Alec had little liking for the duty. He found the English barons a pretentious lot* their ladies dull-witted and painfully weak-spirited* and their leader* Henry* a little too soft in most of his decisions. Alec always gave a man his due* however* and therefore grudgingly admitted there had been a time or two when he'd been downright impressed with King Henry's spurts of brutality. He had given swift punishment to those foolish barons who'd been proved guilty of treason.

Although Alec hadn't complained about the duty* he was still thankful it was done. As laird over his own large clan of followers* he felt his many responsibilities pressing down on him. His domain in the rugged Highlands was probably in chaos now* what with the Campbells and the MacDonalds at it again* and God only knew what other problems he'd find waiting on his doorstep.

Now there was a further delay. Damn if he didn't have to stop along the way to get married.

Alec considered his marriage to the unknown Englishwoman a minor inconvenience* nothing more. He would wed the woman to please King Edgar. She would do the same by order from King Henry* of course* for that was the way of things in these advanced days* since the two leaders had formed a tenuous bond with each other.

Henry had specifically requested that Alec Kincaid be one of the lairds ordered to take an English bride. Both Alec and Edgar knew why Henry had made that special request. It was an undisputed fact that the Kincaid* though one of the youngest lairds in all of Scotland* was a power to be reckoned with. He was chieftain over approximately eight hundred fierce warriors by last year's count* but that number would be doubled if he called up his trusted allies.

The Kincaid's skill in battle was a whispered legend in England* a shouted boast in the Highlands.

Henry also knew that Alec didn't particularly like the English. He mentioned to Edgar his hope that the marriage would soften the powerful laird's attitude. Perhaps* Henry suggested* in time* harmony would be achieved.

Edgar was far more astute than Henry believed* however. He suspected Henry wanted to sway Alec's loyalty toward England.

Both Alec and his leader were highly amused by Henry's naivete. Edgar was Henry's vassal* aye* since the day he'd knelt at the feet of the king of England and given his pledge. He'd also been raised in the English court. Still* he was king of Scotland* and his loyal clansmen came before all others…especially outsiders.

Henry obviously didn't understand the bond of blood ties. Both Edgar and Alec believed England's king saw only the possibility of another strong ally in his back pocket. He'd misjudged the Kincaid* though* for Alec would never turn his back on Scotland or her king* no matter what the incentives.

Daniel* Alec's friend since childhood days* and soon to be named laird over the neighboring clan Ferguson* had also been ordered to take an English bride. Daniel* too* had spent a tiring month in London. He'd found the duty as unpleasant as Alec had* and was just as anxious to get home.

Both warriors had ridden at a furious pace since dawn* pausing only twice to rest their mounts. They fully expected to spend little more than an hour or two at Jamison's holding. That would surely be time enough* they'd reasoned* to eat a full supper* choose their brides* marry them if there was a priest in residence* and then be on their way.

They didn't want to spend another night on English soil. It mattered not if their brides had other inclinations. The women were simply property* after all* and neither Daniel nor Alec considered the wants of a bride significant in the least.

They would do as they were told* and that was that.

It was Alec who won the privilege of taking first choice by tossing the caber farther afield than his friend. In truth* however* neither man had cared enough to give the feat of strength his all.

Aye* it was an errand they were completing* and a damn nuisance to be sure.

The devil and his disciple arrived at Baron Jamison's holding three days ahead of schedule.

Beak was the first to catch sight of the Scottish warlords* the first to give them those fitting names. He was sitting on the top rung of the ladder used to reach the loft* thinking to himself that it was time he had a proper snooze* for it was getting on high afternoon* after all* and he'd been working steadily in the warm spring sun without letup since his nooning meal. Still and all* Lady Mary had dragged her sister* Jamie* off to the south meadow and he really should chase after them just to make certain they weren't getting into mischief. When Jamie was nagged into putting her chores aside* the streak of wildness sometimes got the better of her nature. It was a fact that she became too uninhibited for her own good* Beak thought. Yet another reason she needed a strong man to watch over her. Why* his sweet Jamie could talk a thief out of his stealings if her mind was set on the task* and God only knew what troubles she'd talked Mary into stirring up.

Just thinking about all the possibilities sent a shiver down Beak's spine. Yes* he'd have to go after the wild pair* all right.

He let out a loud yawn and started down the ladder. He was on the second rail from the top when he spotted the two giants riding toward him.

Beak almost lost his balance. He knew his mouth gaped open just like a baby sparrow's waiting on food from his mama* but Beak couldn't seem to get it closed tight. He stopped himself from making a hasty sign of the cross* though* and was thankful the warriors couldn't possibly hear his knees knocking together when he finally managed the rest of the climb down.

He could feel his heart slamming inside his chest. Beak reminded himself he had Scottish blood running through his veins* though it came from his ancestors in the civilized Lowlands. He also tried to remember he'd never been caught judging a man solely on his appearance. Neither reminder soothed his initial reaction to the giants watching him so intently.

Beak started shivering. He excused his cowardice by telling himself he was just an ordinary man* he was* and the sight of these two warriors would give the apostles goose-bumps.

The one Beak thought of as the disciple was tall and burly with wide shoulders* hair the color of rusty nails* and green-as-the-ocean eyes. The man had grim wrinkles at the corners of those chilling eyes* too.

The disciple was a big man* aye* yet seemed puny in comparison to the other.

The one Beak thought of as the devil had hair as bronze as his skin. He was a good head taller than his companion and had not a bit of softening fat on his unforgiving Herculean frame. When Beak stumbled forward to get a better look at his face* he immediately wished he hadn't made the effort.

There was a bleak coldness there* lurking in those brown eyes. That gaze could frost a summer bed of clover* Beak thought with growing despair.

So much for his foolish plan to save his Jamie. Beak decided he'd go to hell cheering like a happy man before he let either of these two barbarians near her.

"My name's Beak and I'm stable master here*" he finally blurted out* hoping to give the impression there were other stablemen about so they'd think him important enough to converse with. "You're early*" he added with a nervous nod. "Else the family would be lined up outside in their finery waiting to give you a proper greeting."

Beak paused for air* then waited for a reply to his remarks. His wait proved to be in vain and his eagerness quickly evaporated. He soon began to feel as important as a flea about to be swatted. It was unnerving* the way the two giants continued to stare down at him.

The stable master decided to try again. "I'll see to your mounts* milords* while you make your presence known to the household."

"We take care of our horses* old man."

It was the disciple who'd made that statement. His voice wasn't particularly pleasant* either. Beak nodded* then backed up several spaces to get out of their way. He watched the lords remove their saddles* listened as each spoke a word of praise in Gaelic to his mount. Their animals were handsome stallions* one brown* the other black* and Beak took notice that neither animal had a flaw… or a strap mark on its hind flanks.

A glimmer of hope was rekindled inside Beak's mind. He'd learned a long time ago that a man's true character could be discovered by the way he treated his mama and his horse. Baron Andrew's mount was riddled with deep lashings and if that wasn't proof enough that his theory was true* Beak didn't know what was.

"Have you left your soldiers waiting outside the walls* then?" Beak asked* speaking in Gaelic so they'd know he was friend* not foe.

The disciple looked pleased with his effort* for he actually smiled at the stable master. "We ride alone."

"All the way from London?" Beak asked* unable to keep the surprise out of his voice.

"Aye*" the lord answered.

"With no one seeing to your backsides?"

"We don't need anyone else seeing to our protection*" the lord answered. "That's an English inclination* not ours. Isn't that right* Kincaid?"

The devil didn't bother to answer.

"By what names are you called* milords?" Beak asked. It was a bold question he dared to ask* but the warriors weren't scowling at him any longer and that fact had given him courage.

The disciple turned the topic instead of answering. "You speak our language well* Beak. Are you Scottish* then?"

Beak's shoulders straightened with pride. "I am* with red hair afore it turned gray on me head."

"My name's Daniel* of the clan Ferguson. He's called Alec by those who know him well enough*" he added with a nod toward the other warrior. "Alec is chieftain over the clan Kincaid."

Beak made a formal bow. "It's my humble pleasure to make your acquaintance*" he announced. "I haven't spoken to a full-blooded Scotsman in so many years I've forgotten how to act*" he added with a grin. "Forgot how big the Highlanders are* too. You gave me quite a start when I first spotted you* you did."

He opened the doors to two clean stalls adjacent to the entrance* saw to the feeding buckets* the water as well* and then tried to engage the two men in further conversation.

"'Tis the truth you're three days early*" he said. "I'm thinking to myself the household will be in an uproar."

Neither lord commented on that remark* but Beak could tell by the way they glanced at each other that they did not particularly care if they caused any disruption.

"Who were you expecting if not us?" Lord Daniel asked* frowning over his question.

Beak was puzzled by the question. "Expecting? No one* leastwise not for three more days."

"The drawbridge was down* man* and not a single watch in sight. Surely—"

"Ah* that*" Beak said with a long-drawn-out sigh. "Well* it's true the bridge is down most of the time and there never is a watch posted. You see now* Baron Jamison is a mite forgetful."

When he saw the incredulous looks on the warriors' faces* Beak thought he really should try to give his master some defense. "Being out here in the middle of nowheres like we are* we're never bothered. The baron says he doesn't have much of value to be snatched away*" he said with a shrug. "And no one's ever come inside without a proper invite."

"Nothing of value?"

Alec Kincaid had finally spoken. His voice had been soft* yet surprisingly forceful at the same time. And when he turned to give Beak his full attention* the old man's knees started shaking again.

"He does have daughters* doesn't he?"

His scowl could set a fire blazing* Beak decided. He couldn't meet that gaze for long and had to stare at the tips of his boots in order to concentrate on the conversation. "He has daughters all right* more in number than he'll be wanting to admit to having* too."

"Yet he doesn't protect them?" Daniel asked. He shook his head in disbelief* then turned to Alec and said* "Have you ever heard the like?"

"Nay* I haven't."

"What kind of man is this Baron Jamison?" Daniel asked Beak.

The Kincaid answered his question. "An Englishman* Daniel."

"Ah* that does explain it* doesn't it?" Daniel remarked dryly. "Tell me this* Beak. Are the baron's daughters so unsightly there be no need for protection? Are they without virtue?"

"They're all pretty*" Beak answered. "And every single one of them as pure as the day she was born. Strike me dead if that ain't the truth. 'Tis their father who shirks his duty*" Beak added with a scowl.

"How many daughters are there?" Daniel asked. "We never bothered to ask your king."

"You'll be seeing three*" Beak muttered.

He was about to expound on his remark when both warriors turned and started for the door.

It was now or never* Beak determined. He took a deep* settling breath* then called out* "Are you both mighty lairds over your clans or is one more powerful than the other?"

Alec caught the fear in the stable master's voice. It puzzled him enough to turn back to the man. "What is the reason for such an impertinent question?"

"I mean no disrespect*" Beak rushed out* "and I've good honest reasons for my question. I know I'm stepping above meself; I'm meaning to interfere. You see* someone has to look after her interests and I'm the only one who would be caring enough."

Daniel frowned over the odd explanation. It made little sense to him. "I'll become laird over my clan by right of tanistry in another year or two's time*" he answered. "The Kincaid is already chieftain over his own clan. There* does that answer your question* Beak?"

"Will he have first choice in this bride-choosing then?" Beak asked Daniel.

"He will."

"And he's more powerful than you?" the stable master asked.

Daniel nodded. "For the moment*" he announced with a grin. "Beak* have you never heard of the Kincaid warriors?"

"Aye* I've heard all sorts of stories."

The grimness in his tone made Daniel smile. The old man was obviously frightened of Alec. "I take it some of the stories you've heard include descriptions of Alec's methods in battle?"

"They have. I shouldn't be believing them*" Beak added with a hasty glance in Alec's direction. "They were told by Englishmen* you see* and I'm sure they exaggerated the laird's… ruthlessness."

Daniel grinned at Alec before responding to that remark. "Oh* I doubt the stories were exaggerated in the least* Beak. Did they say he never showed mercy? Compassion?"

"Aye."

"Best believe the stories then* Beak* for they're true. Aren't they* Alec?"

"Aye* they are*" Alec agreed* his tone hard.

"Beak*" Daniel continued* "your questions amuse me* though I've no idea what it is you're really wanting to find out. Is there another question you'd like to put to us?"

Beak timidly nodded. He turned to stare up at Alec now. A long* silent moment passed while he tried to think of a fitting way to explain about his Jamie without being downright disloyal.

[Dalyia]

Alec could see the fear in the old man's eyes. He walked back over to stand directly in front of the stable master. "What is it you wish to say to me?"
Beak decided the Kincaid's intuition was as unsettling as his size and voice. His own voice trembled when he blurted out his question. "Have you ever mistreated a woman in all your days* Alec Kincaid?"
It was obvious the laird didn't care for that question. His expression turned as fierce as a bolt of lightning. Beak took an instinctive step back and had to steady himself by bracing his hand against the wall.
"I've been patient with you because you're Scots* old man* but if you ever put such a foul question to me again* I swear it will be your last."
Beak nodded. "I need to know* inside my heart* because I'm set on giving you a great gift and I have to know you'll recognize its value* my lord."
"He speaks in riddles*" Daniel stated. He walked over to stand next to Alec. His frown* Beak noted* was almost as fierce as the Kincaid's. "You've been in England too long* old man* asking such obscene questions."
"I know I ain't making a spit of sense*" Beak admitted in a forlorn tone. "Yet if I blurt out the full of it* then it would make me disloyal in my mistress's eyes. I can't have that*" he added. "She'd have my hide* she would."
"You admit to being afraid of a woman?" Daniel asked.
Beak ignored the astonished look on the man's face* ignored the laughter in his voice* too. "I'm afeared of no woman. I just don't want to break my word*" he explained. "The lass means the world to me. I ain't ashamed to admit I love her like a daughter."
Beak valiantly tried to meet Alec's hard stare. It was a pitiful effort* though. Oh* how he wished the other warrior were the more powerful of the two. At least the one called Daniel smiled on occasion. "Are you strong enough to protect what belongs to you?" he asked the Kincaid* wanting to get to the heart of the matter as soon as possible.
"I am."
"Baron Andrew will call forth many soldiers. He'll come after the gift I'm giving you. He's also called friend by England's King Henry*" Beak added* wobbling his eyebrows to emphasize that fact.
The Kincaid didn't seem impressed with that statement. He shrugged with indifference. "It would matter not to me."
"Who is this Baron Andrew?" Daniel asked.
"An Englishman*" Beak answered.
"All the better*" Alec said. "If I decide to take this gift you're offering* I'll welcome a challenge from an Englishman. He'll be no threat to me."
Beak visibly relaxed. "No it's about it*" he boasted.
"Is your gift a horse perchance?" Daniel asked* shaking his head in confusion. He still didn't understand what the stable master was trying to tell Alec.
The Kincaid understood. "It isn't a horse* Daniel."
Beak grinned. The man was proving to be as astute as the best of them. "Once you see my gift* Laird Kincaid* you'll be set on having it* all right*" he boasted. "Are you partial to blue eyes* milord?"
"Many have blue eyes in the Highlands* Beak*" Daniel interjected.
"Well* now*" Beak drawled out* "there's blue and then there's blue." He let out a loud chuckle* then cleared his throat and continued* "Now to me riddle* Laird Kincaid. Baron Jamison treats his daughters just like his horses and that's a fact. Only have a look around you and you'll get my meaning soon enough. The pretty little ladies in these three stalls are for the baron's daughters* right there for anyone to see. But if you'll walk down this long corridor and turn the bend* you'll see another stall hidden away in the far corner by the side door. It's separated from the others. That's where the baron keeps his beauty* a magnificent white pretty just waiting for a proper mating. Humor this daft old man* for I'm Scots if you'll remember* and take a good look at the horse*" Beak urged* motioning the warriors forward. "It's worth your time especially* Laird Kincaid."
"He's caught my curiosity*" Daniel told Alec.
Both men followed the stable master. Beak's manner changed considerably when they reached the stall. He poked a piece of straw between his front teeth* leaned against the wall with one foot casually crossed over the other* and proceeded to watch the high-strung filly put up a grand fuss when Alec reached out to stroke her. The side door was cracked open* letting the sun filter inside to cast a soft banner of light on the horse's silver mane.
The proud beauty wouldn't settle down for a good long while* but in the end* the warrior wooed her into showing a hint of her gentle nature. Beak only hoped the laird would gentle Jamie with just as much patience.
"She's a beauty* all right*" Daniel remarked.
"Still half wild*" Alec interjected. He actually smiled then* and Beak concluded being half wild wasn't a flaw in his mind.
"Her name's Wildfire and she's deserving of that name to be sure. The baron can't get near her. He gave her to his youngest daughter when it became evident she was the only one who could seat the horse."
Alec smiled again—a miracle* that—when the mare tried to bite his hand. "She's feisty. With a good stallion* the offspring will be sound—spirited* too."
Beak gave Alec another thorough inspection. When he met the warrior's gaze again* he was grinning. "That's exactly what I'm thinking about my gift to you."
Beak pulled away from the wall* affected an important air* then said* "As I was telling you* Laird Kincaid* the baron treats his daughters just like his horses. Three right up front for anyone to see…"
He vowed he wasn't going to say another word. It was up to the Scotsman to figure the rest of the riddle.
"Beak? Are you inside?"
The interruption came from Lady Jamie. Beak was so startled he almost swallowed the piece of straw he was chewing on. "That be the youngest of the baron's daughters*" he told the two warriors. "And there's the side door*" he added in a soft whisper. "If you're wanting to leave now* that's the quickest way to the main house. I'd best see what my Jamie is wanting."
For his advanced years* Beak could still move with surprising speed. He rounded the corner and caught Jamie and her sister Mary in the center of the hallway.
"Were you talking to someone* Beak?" Mary asked. "I thought I heard—"
"Just having a little visit with Wildfire*" Beak lied.
"Jamie said you'd be napping and we'd be able to sneak right inside and take our mounts out for another quick run*" Mary confessed.
"For heaven's sake* Mary* you needn't be telling him that."
"Well* you did say—"
"Shame on you* Jamie*" Beak scolded. "I never nap and you shouldn't be sneaking around anywheres." He gave her a ridiculous grin. "It ain't ladylike."
"Yes* you do nap*" Jamie told him. She found his smile contagious. "You're in a fit mood today* aren't you?"
"That I am*" Beak admitted. He tried to hide his eagerness* for he certainly didn't want Jamie to suspect he was up to mischief. Beak wondered if the lairds were still lingering over Wildfire. Though the warrior Kincaid couldn't see Lady Jamie* Beak knew that her voice* so soft and husky* would certainly capture his attention.
"And what are the pair of you up to this fine afternoon* I'm wondering to meself?" Beak inquired.
"We wanted to go riding*" Mary said. She gave Beak a puzzled look. "We just told you that. Are you feeling ill* Beak? Jamie* he looks flushed to me."
Jamie immediately reached up and touched Beak's forehead with the back of her hand. "He doesn't have fever*" she told her sister.
"Quit your fretting over me*" Beak said. "I'm fit as ever."
"Then you'll let us go riding for another hour or two?" Mary asked.
"You'll be walking and that's that*" Beak announced. He folded his arms across his chest to show he meant what he'd said.
"Why can't we ride?" Mary asked.
"Because I've just bedded down the ladies*" Beak said. "Your horses have been fed* pampered* and lulled to sleep."
Beak had only just finished giving that lie when he remembered the two great stallions feeding in the stalls adjacent to the front doors. He worried Jamie or Mary might take notice. The sisters usually came flying through the stables* though* and there was a good chance he could get them back outside before they took a real look around them.
"You should be getting ready for your company*" Beak blurted out. He grabbed hold of Mary's right arm and Jamie's left and started dragging the two of them toward the entrance.
"Mary has convinced me not to worry about our unwanted guests on such a fine afternoon*" Jamie explained. "Do quit tugging on my arm* Beak."
"We have three full days of freedom*" Mary interjected. "Jamie still has plenty of time to get the household ready."
"You could try lending a hand* missy*" Beak said. "It would do you good."
"Don't start nagging her* Beak. Mary would help if I asked her assistance."
Beak didn't look as if he believed that remark.
"Speaking of asking*" Mary interjected* "there's something I want to ask you* Beak."
"Mary* don't bother Beak with questions now."
"I certainly am going to bother Beak*" Mary told her sister. "I value his advice as much as you do. Besides* I want to know if you've told me the truth."
"What a sinful thing to say*" Jamie replied. Her smile told Beak she really wasn't the least offended.
"Jamie told me all about these horrible Scots* Beak. I'm thinking of running away. What think you of that bold plan?"
Beak tried not to smile; Lady Mary looked so sincere. "It would depend on where you'd be running to* I suppose."
"Oh* well* I hadn't actually thought of a true destination yet…"
"I'm wondering why you'd want to run away* Mary*" Beak said. "What sorry tales has your sister filled your head with? Do you think they're true or false?"
"Now* Beak* why would you think I'd lie to my sister?" Jamie asked* trying not to laugh.
"Because I know how your mind works* Jamie*" Beak answered. "You've been at it again* haven't you? What stories have you teased your poor sister with today? I can see you got her quivering with fear. And I happen to know you don't know spit about the Scots."
"I know they've got the brains of sheep*" Jamie answered. She winked at Beak when Mary wasn't noticing* then added* "Only those Scots born and raised in the Highlands* of course. The Lowland people are very intelligent* just like you* Beak."
"Don't try soothing me with pretty words*" Beak countered. "It ain't going to work this time. I can see how worried Mary is. Why* she's wringing the skin right off her hands. What'd you tell her?"
"I merely mentioned that I'd heard the Scots were a lusty people."
"Well* now* Mary* that ain't so bad*" Beak admitted.
"With big appetites*" Mary interjected.
"And that's a sin?"
"It is*" Mary answered.
"Gluttony*" Jamie supplied* grinning.
"Jamie said they fight all the time."
"No* Mary* I said they fight most of the time. If you're going to repeat my remarks* do get them straight."
"Do they* Beak?"
"Do they what* Mary?"
"Fight all the time."
"I just said they liked to raid*" Jamie announced with a delicate shrug.
Beak noticed the fine blush covering Jamie's high cheekbones. She was obviously embarrassed that her sister was telling on her.
Jamie was up to mischief* all right. She was looking just as guilty as she had the time she convinced Mary her papa had signed the order giving the convent guardianship.
She did like to jest. She was a sure sight to behold* too* dressed in Beak's favorite color* a deep royal blue. Her hair was unbound and the thick curls fell in chaotic splendor well past her slender shoulders. There were smudges of dirt on her nose and chin.
Beak wished Laird Kincaid could get a clear look at Jamie now* for her violet eyes fairly sparkled with joy.
Mary looked just as appealing. She wore pink today* but the pretty gown was bothered with splotches of dirt. Beak wondered what trouble the two sisters had gotten into* then decided he really didn't want to know.
He was pulled back to the topic of the Scotsmen when Mary blurted out* "Jamie told me the Scots take what they want when they want it. She also said they have special preferences."
"And what might those be?" Beak asked.
"Strong horses* fat sheep* and soft women*" Mary said.
"Horses* sheep* and women?"
"Yes* Beak* and in that order. Jamie says they'd rather sleep next to their horses than their women. Well? Is it true? Do the women come last?"
Beak didn't answer Mary. He stared at Jamie* silently willing her with his frown to answer her sister. He thought Jamie looked a bit distressed* yet wasn't certain if she was about to burst into apology or laughter.
Laughter won out. "Honestly* Mary* I was only teasing you."
"Just look at the two of you*" Beak announced. "Covered with dirt like peasant babies. Fine ladies* indeed! And you* missy*" he added* pointing his finger at Jamie* "laughing like a loon. Just what were you two doing in that meadow* I'm wondering?"
"He's trying to turn the topic*" Mary told her sister. "I'm going to get an apology from you* Jamie* before I move from this spot. And if I don't think you're sincere* then I'm telling Father Charles. He'll give you a penance you won't soon forget."
"It's your fault* not mine*" Jamie countered. "You're as easy to lead along as a pup."
Mary turned back to Beak. "You'd think my sister would be a little more understanding of my predicament. She doesn't have to stand before the Scottish warlords and pray to God she isn't chosen. Papa's bent on hiding her away."
"Only because I wasn't named in the king's order*" Jamie reminded her sister.
"I ain't so sure you weren't named*" Beak interjected.
"Papa wouldn't lie*" Jamie argued.
"As to that* I won't be saying you're right or wrong* Jamie*" Beak said. "Mary? Jamie hasn't told you anything terrible about the Scots as far as I can tell. You're fretting over nothing* lass."
"She told me other stories* Beak*" Mary said. "I was suspicious* of course* because her stories were so outrageous. I'm not that gullible* Beak* no matter what my sister thinks."
Beak turned to frown at Jamie again. "Well* milady?"
Jamie let out a soft sigh. "I'll admit I did make up some of the stories* but just as many are really true* Beak."
"How could you be knowing what's true and what's false? You shouldn't listen to gossip anyway. I taught you better than that."
"What gossip?" Mary asked.
"Scots throw cabers at one another just for the sport of it."
"Cabers?"
"Pine trees* Mary*" Jamie answered.
Mary let out a loud* inelegant snort. "They don't."
"Aye* they do*" Jamie countered. "And if tossing cabers at one another isn't a barbaric ritual* then I don't know what is."
"You really think I'll believe anything you tell me* don't you?"
"It's true* Mary*" Beak admitted. "They do throw cabers* though not at one another."
Mary shook her head. "I can tell by the way you're grinning at me that you're teasing me* Beak. Oh* yes* you are*" she added when he started to protest. "And I suppose it's true the Scots wear women's clothing?"
"What—" Beak strangled on a cough. He hoped the warriors had already left the stables* after all* and couldn't overhear this shameful talk. "I think we should stroll on outside to finish this discussion. It's too fine a day to be cooped up inside."
"It is true*" Jamie told her sister* ignoring Beak's suggestion. "They do wear women's gowns. Don't they* Beak?"
"Where'd you hear that blasphemy?" Beak demanded.
"Cholie told me."
"It was Cholie?" Mary asked. "Well* if you'd bothered to mention that fact* I wouldn't have believed any of your tales. You know as well as I do that the kitchen help tips the jug of ale all day long. Cholie was probably sotted."
"Oh* spit*" Jamie muttered. "She wasn't sotted."
"Oh* spit?" Mary repeated. "Honestly* Jamie* you talk just like Beak."
"They do*" Beak said* trying to stop the budding argument.
"They do what?" Mary asked.
"Wear clothing that stops at their knees*" Beak explained.
"There* I told you so* Mary."
"Their clothing is called their plaid* Mary. Plaid*" Beak repeated with a growl. "It's their sacred dress. I think they'd take exception to hearing it called a woman's gown."
"Then it's little wonder to me why they have to fight all the time*" Jamie interjected. She hadn't really believed Cholie's tale* but Beak looked so sincere she was beginning to think he was telling the truth.
"Aye*" Mary agreed. "They have to defend their gowns."
"They aren't gowns."
"Now look what you've done* Jamie. You've got Beak shouting at us."
Jamie was immediately contrite. "I'm sorry* Beak* for upsetting you. My* you are nervous today. You keep looking over your shoulder. Do you think someone's going to pounce on you from behind? What in—"
"I missed me nap*" Beak blurted out. "That's why I'm surly."
"You must go and have a proper rest* then*" Jamie advised. "Come along* Mary. Beak's been so patient with us and I can tell he isn't feeling at all well."
She took hold of Mary's hand and started toward the door. "Good God* Mary* they actually do wear women's gowns. I didn't really believe Cholie* but now I'm convinced."
"I'm running away and that's that*" Mary said* loud enough for Beak to overhear. She suddenly stopped* then whirled around. "One last question* please?" she called out.
"Yes* Mary?"
"Would you be knowing if the Scots hate fat women* Beak?"
He didn't have any answer for that absurd question. After he shrugged his shoulders* Mary turned around and chased after Jamie. Both sisters lifted the hems of their skirts and started running toward the upper bailey. Beak let out a soft chuckle as he watched the pair.
"She was given a man's name."
The stable master nearly jumped out of his tunic. He hadn't heard Alec Kincaid's approach. He turned around and came face to shoulders with the giant warrior. " 'Twas her mama's way of giving her a place in this family. Baron Jamison weren't the man who fathered Jamie. He claimed her for his own* though. I'll give him that much kindness. Did you get a good look at her* then?" he added in a rush.
Alec nodded.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Three

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Jamie didn't find out about the Scotsmen's early arrival until Merlin* the keeper of the pasture cattle* chased her down to tell her there was yet another great commotion going on up at the main house and her papa wanted her to straighten it all out for him.

Merlin failed to mention the Scotsmen in his stuttered announcement. It wasn't his fault* however* for his beautiful mistress had turned her gaze directly upon him just when he was beginning his explanation. Those violet eyes had made him quite awestruck. Then his mistress smiled* causing Merlin's heart to start fluttering like a silly little lady's maid. His mind didn't flutter* though. No* it merely emptied of all thoughts save one: Lady Jamie was giving him her undivided attention.

The stutter only worsened* of course* but it didn't really matter. Jamie couldn't immediately obey the summons anyway. There was an injury that needed her immediate attention. Poor old Silas* his eyesight as weak as his hands* was carrying on something fierce* bellowing loud enough* in fact* to cause the pigs to squeal in protest.

Silas had accidentally sliced his upper arm instead of the side of treated hide he was trying to carve into a saddle lining.

The injury was minor and didn't require searing with a hot knife* yet Jamie still had to spend a good long while soothing the old man after she'd cleaned and wrapped the injury.

He needed pampering* and that was that.

Merlin stood by cook's side during the commotion. He was a little jealous of all the attention Silas was getting from their mistress. He was also extremely anxious because he couldn't seem to remember that other bit of information he'd been ordered to relate to her.

Jamie finally finished her task and left Silas in Cholie's capable hands. She knew the two servants would share at least one jug of ale between them* but didn't think that was too sinful* considering Silas's upset and Cholie's need to give comfort the only way she knew how.

"I can only put out one fire at a time*" she told Merlin when he reminded her of the fuss going on up at the main house. She smiled to soften her rebuke* then left the worried-looking cattle keeper. Jamie ran all the way up the hill* her skirts raised to her knees. Three playful greyhounds ran alongside her. Neither Jamie nor her pets slowed down until they'd rushed through the open door and entered the great hall.

She came to an abrupt halt then. The two warriors leaning casually against the mantel immediately caught her attention.

Jamie was simply too stunned to hide her initial reaction. God's truth* they were the biggest men she'd ever seen. She couldn't quit staring at them.

It was unfortunate* too* for the first words out of her mouth weren't very ladylike. "Good God!"

It was only a whispered exclamation* strangled out at that* but Jamie could tell by the way the bigger of the two giants raised his right eyebrow that he'd heard her.

She didn't dare curtsy* knowing full well she'd land on her face if she tried. And she couldn't seem to pull her gaze away from the taller of the two men* either* the one now trying to stare her to her knees.

He was the meanest-looking man she'd ever seen.

She told herself she wasn't afraid. Nay* she was too angry to be frightened. Jamie stood her ground* meeting the warrior's gaze a long minute until she could regain a little composure* then realized that as long as she continued to stare at him* she'd never be able to accomplish that feat.

Jamie finally noticed the silence that permeated the great hall. She glanced over her shoulder and saw her sisters then. The three of them were lined up like common criminals* looking as if they were about to be executed with arrows.

As soon as Agnes caught Jamie's sympathetic gaze* she started crying. Alice put her arm around her twin's shoulders* obviously intent on offering her solace. The plan failed* however* and she also burst into tears. Within a blink of the eye* the two of them had worked themselves up into hysteria.

Mary stood next to Agnes. She looked as if she* too* wanted to cry. Her hands were clasped in front of her* and after giving Jamie a "dear Lord* will you look at them" look* she turned her gaze to the floor.

Something had to be done. The twins couldn't be allowed to disgrace the family in front of the Scots.

"Agnes* Alice* cease your weeping immediately."

Both sisters mopped at the corners of their eyes and tried to control themselves.

Jamie noticed her father then. He was sitting at the table* pouring himself a drink from one of the two jugs in front of him.

It was up to her to offer a proper* civilized English greeting* she supposed. She knew what her duty was. Yet the urge to shout at the strangers that they were three whole days early* for God's sake* was very nearly overwhelming.

Duty won out. Besides* the two Scots were probably too dull-witted to realize how uncouth their behavior was.

Jamie slowly walked over to stand directly in front of the two men. She remembered the dogs at her sides when she heard them growling at the strangers* dismissed them with a quick wave of her hand* then made a curtsy befitting her status as mistress of her home. A lock of hair fell over her left eye when she bowed her head* ruining the haughty effect she was trying to achieve. Jamie tossed the hair back over her shoulder and tried to manage a smile.

"I'd like to welcome both of you to our humble home* for no one else seems capable of extending that courtesy*" she began. "And I do hope you'll forgive our unreadiness to receive you* but if you'll only remember you're a good three days early* you might more easily endure our lack of preparations."

She stared at their boots while she made that speech* then ventured a quick look up when she added* "My name is—"

"Lady Jamie." The shorter of the two giants made that statement.

Jamie had been staring at the space between the two warriors and immediately turned to look at the one who'd just spoken.

He wasn't as mean-looking as the other one. Jamie came to that conclusion when he smiled at her. He had an appealing dent in the side of his cheek when he smiled* too* and his green eyes were alive with mischief.

Jamie was immediately suspicious. The man seemed to be entirely too happy for such dour circumstances* what with Alice and Agnes weeping like infants. Perhaps* she decided* he was too simple-headed to understand the disruption he was causing. He was a Scotsman* after all.

"And your name* milord?" she asked* her voice cool.

"Daniel*" he answered. "He's called Alec*" he drawled out with a nod toward his companion.

Daniel's smile was proving to be contagious. This one was definitely a charmer* Jamie thought. She couldn't help but smile back* either* for the man had such a ridiculous burr in his speech that she could barely understand him.

She didn't really want to talk to the other lord* but she knew she had to. Jamie kept smiling* then slowly turned to look up at the other warrior.

He'd been waiting for her to look at him. Jamie could feel her smile freeze on her face. His gaze* surely as hot as the midday sun* easily intimidated her.

He wasn't smiling.

Jamie was suddenly embarrassed and didn't know why. She'd never felt this vulnerable in all her days. She felt her cheeks grow warm and knew she'd started blushing. There was such possessiveness in his stare* a look of ownership she couldn't understand.

It suddenly dawned on her that Lord Alec wasn't looking at her the way a true lord would look at a gentle lady of breeding. No* it was an earthy lustful look he was giving her.

He was being outrageously insolent. He gave her a slow* thoroughly insulting inspection* starting at the top of her head and ending a long while later at the bottom of her gown. His gaze lingered on her mouth* her breasts and her hips.

She hated him.

He made her feel as though she were standing there without a stitch of clothing on. Jamie was infuriated with him. She wasn't about to let him get away with his behavior* either. No* she was going to give as good as she was getting. She couldn't control her blush* but she prayed she looked just as insolent as he had when she slowly gave him the same disgustingly thorough inspection.

Unfortunately* the warrior didn't seem the least bit offended by her imitation. He looked amused. She thought his eyes warmed a little and noticed his eyebrow rose again in reaction to her appraisal.

There was something there* in his gaze* that tugged at her heart. She couldn't put her finger on it* but she was beginning to think that if he hadn't been so mean-looking* she might have found him handsome. That was ridiculous* of course. She'd already made up her mind to hate him. The man was too hard for her liking. He was in desperate need of a good hair trim* too. Why* the back of his reddish brown hair went way beyond the neckline of his black tunic. The hair curled a bit* reminding her of the Greek warriors she'd seen drawings of* but it certainly didn't soften his angular face or his square* unforgiving chin. His mouth looked as hard as the rest of him.

Oh* he was entirely too fierce-looking to please her. And why her heart was pounding such a wild beat was beyond her comprehension. The longer she met his gaze* the more breathless she became.

A single thought kept her from feeling like a complete fool. One of her poor sisters was going to have to marry this warlord from hell.

She started shivering.

He smiled.

Baron Jamison suddenly called out to both warriors to join him at the table for a taste of wine.

Daniel immediately moved away from the mantel and strolled over to the table. He paused on his way to wink at Mary.

Alec didn't move. Neither did Jamie. She couldn't make herself stop staring up at him.

He didn't want to stop looking at her.

"Do you have a priest in residence?"

His voice had sounded harsh. He couldn't help that* he decided* for he was still reacting to the amazingly beautiful woman standing so defiantly before him. Her eyes were the most brilliant shade of violet. She was quite magnificent* yet Alec was just as impressed with the rebellious streak he could easily see.

This one wouldn't be easily intimidated. He didn't think she'd ever cower away from him. And no other woman had ever been able to match his stare this long* this courageously.

Alec's smile widened. She was a worthy adversary* all right. He knew she was afraid of him; he had seen her tremble. Yet she valiantly tried to hide her fear from him.

She'd survive in the rugged Highlands* given care and attention* but he would have to take every precaution. She was so delicate looking. He'd have to quell the rebelliousness in her without breaking her spirit. It would be a chore* true* but Alec didn't mind. In truth* he was already looking forward to the taming.

And in the end* he would conquer and she would submit.

Jamie didn't have the faintest idea what the warrior was thinking. She finally found her voice and answered his question. "We do have a priest in residence* milord." Heaven help her* the shiver was now in her voice. "You've chosen* then?"

"I have."

"It must have been a most difficult decision for you to make."

The smile reached his eyes. "It wasn't difficult at all."

She didn't care for the arrogance in his tone or the way he was looking at her now. "I'm certain it was difficult for you*" she insisted. "After all* my sisters are all very beautiful* and choosing one so quickly isn't really giving the matter your full consideration. For that reason* I would suggest you wait* perhaps return to our home in another month* after you've had time to mull this over. What think you of that idea* milord?"

He slowly shook his head.

"Then you're going to marry tomorrow?" Jamie asked.

"We'll be halfway home by then."

"You will?"

"We will."

"You plan to marry now?"

She looked horrified. Alec nodded. "I do."

"But you cannot mean—"

"We'll leave immediately after the ceremony*" Alec said* his voice hard.

Lord Daniel suddenly appeared at her side. He was holding two goblets of wine. He handed one to Alec* then turned to the three sisters. "Come and join us* Mary*" he called out* laughing. "We won't bite."

"I never thought you would*" Mary announced. She straightened her shoulders and hurried over to stand beside Jamie.

Both Daniel and Alec drank from their goblets. They nodded to each other* then offered the cups to Jamie and Mary.

The sisters denied the offer by shaking their heads.

"Take a sip* Mary*" Daniel suggested with a wink.

Alec wasn't as solicitous. "Drink this* Jamie. Now."

Perhaps it was some sort of primitive Scottish ritual* Jamie thought. As mistress of her home* she knew it was her duty to make their visitors welcome. Alec looked determined* too. She shrugged her shoulders* then took the goblet* swallowed quickly* and handed the cup back to him.

He captured her hand and wouldn't let go. His thumb brushed her palm. A frown settled on his face* and he slowly turned her hand over to look at the calluses and scars.

Mary emptied Daniel's cup. When she gave the goblet back to him* he also took hold of her hand and turned it over.

Jamie tried to pull her hand away* but it wasn't until the two men had compared Mary's smooth* unblemished skin with Jamie's flaws* that he finally let go.

It was a humiliation. She understood every damning word they said to each other in Gaelic. They didn't know she spoke their language and that fact gave Jamie a perverse spark of satisfaction.

Jamie hid her hands behind her back and waited for their next insult.

"Was sharing your drink some sort of ritual?" Mary asked. " 'Tis the truth we don't know anything about the Scots."

After blurting out that statement* she turned her attention to the floor.

"Mary* you've never heard of our special preferences* then?" Daniel asked in a soft burr.

Mary's head jerked up. She had the most startled expression on her face. "Preferences* milord?"

"Certain peculiarities*" Daniel qualified with a grin.

"Peculiarities?" Mary gave Jamie a wild look before turning back to Daniel. "Nay* I've not heard of these preferences."

"Ah* then* I must enlighten you*" he announced.

It was obvious that Lord Daniel was vastly amused. "I don't wish to be enlightened*" Mary countered.

Alec was watching Jamie. Her eyes had widened when Daniel mentioned preferences. She'd obviously caught the drift of his friend's remarks.

Alec found Jamie incredibly appealing. Just looking at her made him ache to touch her* to take her. The smile faded from his eyes when he admitted to himself how much he wanted to bed her. Odd* but it didn't matter that she was English. No* it didn't matter at all.

"Mary* sweet*" Daniel began* drawing Alec's attention back to him* "surely you've heard of our list of wants. Everyone knows the Scots like strong horses* fat sheep* and soft* willing women."

He'd drew out his list just like an old woman savoring the telling of fresh gossip. Alec mimicked his friend's tone when he added* "In that order* of course."

"Of course*" Daniel agreed.

Jamie turned to glare at Alec. She'd already surmised Beak had had a little talk with the giants and had mentioned Mary's fears. Jamie made a promise to blister Beak's ears the next time she saw him.

Daniel suddenly reached out to stroke Mary's cheek with the back of his hand. Mary was so surprised by the caress she forgot to move away. She was quite mesmerized by the tender look in Daniel's eyes.

"I've already got a strong horse*" Daniel stated. "As for sheep* Mary* well* there are plenty grazing in the mountains back home. But a soft* willing woman* now* lass* it's a pity to admit I'm lacking one of those. It's important to me* even though it's last on my list."

"I'm not soft*" Mary blurted out.

"Aye* you are*" Daniel countered. "And as lovely as a spring morning*" he added.

Mary's blush deepened until her face was the color of fire. "I'm neither lovely nor willing* milord*" she announced. She folded her arms across her chest and concentrated on giving him a good frown. She wanted to discourage the handsome devil* yet was horribly confused by her own reaction to him. His flattery was making her light-headed. Did he really think she was lovely?

[Dalyia]

The twins started crying again. Jamie was about to give them another rebuke when it occurred to her that one or both had been chosen as brides. If that was the case* and she guessed it was* Alice and Agnes were certainly entitled to their tantrum. They could wail like wolves and it would be fine with her.
Alec simply waited for the truth to hit her. He saw the sympathetic look she was giving her sisters* wondered how long it would take her to notice they were looking at her with the identical expression.
Baron Jamison would certainly set Jamie straight* once he'd regained his composure* Alec decided. The man was still close to weeping. He'd argued something fierce when Alec had casually stated he'd chosen Jamie for his bride.
Alec had been firm with the baron. He had controlled his temper until Jamison quit sputtering and began to list all the selfish reasons he had for being against the union. None of the reasons had anything to do with Jamie's well-being. Alec's attitude hardened then. He was infuriated with the Englishman. The list of duties certainly explained the calluses on Jamie's hands. Jamison didn't want to keep his youngest by his side because of love. He wanted only a slave at his beck and call. The youngest* in Alec's opinion* was literally in bondage.
A worried-looking servant came rushing into the great hall. He gave Baron Jamison only a brief glance before hurrying over to Jamie. After completing an awkward bow* the servant whispered* "The priest be on his way* mistress. He's dressed in his wedding vestments."
Jamie nodded to the servant. "It was good of you to quit your duties to fetch Father Charles* George. Would you like to stay for the weddings?"
The servant had a look of adoration in his eyes. "I ain't dressed for it*" he whispered.
"Neither are we*" Jamie whispered back.
"Go and change your gown* Mary*" Daniel interjected. "I'm partial to gold. If you've a gown in that color* wear it to please me. If not* white will do well enough. I'm wedding you* Lady Mary."
Lord Daniel Ferguson caught Lady Mary before she hit the floor. He wasn't at all irritated that his intended had just fainted dead away* and he actually let out a full burst of laughter as he swept Mary up into his arms and held her against his chest.
"She's overcome with gratitude* Alec*" Daniel called out to his friend.
"Aye* Daniel* I can see she is*" Alec answered.
Jamie couldn't keep her anger controlled another minute. She turned to confront Alec. Her hands rested on her hips in a stance that was clearly a challenge. "Well? Which one of the twins are you going to wed?"
"Neither."
"Neither?"
She still hadn't caught on. Alec sighed. "Change your gown* Jamie* if that's your inclination. I prefer white. Now go and do my bidding. The hour grows late and we must be on our way."
He'd deliberately lengthened his speech* giving her time to react to his announcement. He thought he was being most considerate.
She thought he was demented.
Jamie was* at first* too stunned to do more than stare in horror at the warlord. When she finally gained her voice* she shouted* "It will be a frigid day in heaven before I marry you* milord* a frigid day indeed."
"You've just described the Highlands in winter* lass. And you will marry me."
"Never."
Exactly one hour later* Lady Jamison was wed to Alec Kincaid.

[Dalyia]

Chapter Four

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She wore black to her wedding. Her choice of attire was a purely defiant gesture meant to infuriate the Scotsman. Jamie knew her plan had failed* however* the minute she walked back into the great hall. Alec took one look at her and started laughing. The booming sound nearly felled the rafters.

Jamie didn't have any idea how much her rebellious nature pleased him* else she never would have gone to such lengths to provoke him* Alec decided. Had she known how much he detested tears* she probably would have wept. Alec didn't think she'd be as convincing as her twin sisters* though. Jamie moved like a queen. Her back was as straight as a clean lance* she bowed her head to no man* and he decided it would have cost her mightily to affect any female weakness.

She was dressed for mourning* but she still looked magnificent. Her eyes continued to captivate him. He wondered if he'd ever get used to her beauty. Lord* he certainly hoped so. He couldn't allow any interference in his primary duties.

The lass was turning out to be quite a puzzle. He knew she was English born and raised* yet she didn't appear to be the least bit cowardly. Alec wondered how that miracle had come about* then concluded her innocence and lack of fear stemmed from the fact that she'd never been tainted by King Henry's sordid court life. By the grace of God* Lady Jamie hadn't been exposed to the English inclination for debauchery.

The Kincaid had Baron Jamison to thank* he supposed* for failing to do his duty for his daughters. He wasn't about to mention his gratitude* though* and doubted Jamie's father would have heard a word anyway. The man was actually crying now. Alec was too disgusted to speak to the man. He'd never seen a grown man humiliate himself in such a foul way. It turned his stomach.

"We're all very close to our father*" Jamie whispered when the baron couldn't answer the priest's question as to who was giving the brides away. The baron's face was hidden in his soggy linen cloth. "Papa's going to miss us* milord. This is most difficult for him."

She hadn't looked up at Alec when she made her whispered excuse for her father's shameful conduct* but the plea was there* in her husky voice. She was asking for his understanding* he knew* and he found her defense of her father worthy enough to make him keep his unfavorable opinion to himself.

She'd just given him another glimpse into her character* for her plea told him she was loyal to her family. He thought that was a noble quality under any circumstance* and given the character of the members of her family* Jamie's loyalty bordered on sainthood.

Jamie was too terrified to look up at her intended. She and her sister stood side by side* holding on to each other's hands for comfort. Daniel stood on Mary's right and Alec was positioned on Jamie's left. Alec's arm touched her shoulder and his thigh brushed against her. Deliberately* repeatedly.

She couldn't move away from him. Mary was squeezed up against her side and Alec's arm blocked the possibility of a step back. Lord* how she hated being frightened. She wasn't used to such feelings. She told herself it was because he was so big. He towered over her like a huge* angry cloud. He smelled of heather and masculinity* a bit of leather* too* and under more pleasing conditions* she might have found his scent appealing. Now* of course* she detested his size* his scent* his very presence.

The priest finished his homily on the sacrament of marriage* then turned to address Jamie's sister. Mary* honest to a fault* gave Daniel a good laugh when Father Charles asked her if she'd take Daniel for her husband. Mary took a long while pondering over the question* acting as though she'd just been asked to explain the significance of the Norman Conquest* then finally blurted out her answer. "'Tis the truth I'd rather not* Father."

Jamie was nearing the point of true hysteria. She was not supposed to be marrying this warlord named Alec Kincaid. He wasn't making the situation any easier to endure* either* standing so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating from him.

While Father Charles was begging Mary to give a proper response* Jamie tried to move away from Alec. In the corner of her mind was the cowardly thought that she could just push his arm away* back up a step* and then run like lightning out of the room.

He must have read her intention* for his arm settled on her shoulders. Before she could protest* she was hauled up against his side.

She couldn't shrug herself away from him. She tried—several times* in fact—before she whispered her demand that he unhand her.

He answered her by ignoring her.

In her frustration* she turned to her sister and said* "I don't think it matters what our rathers be* Mary. If you don't agree to marry Daniel* you'll be going against your king."

"But if I say I want to take this man for my husband* then I go against God* don't I?" Mary argued. "I wouldn't be telling the truth*" she ended with a wail.

"For God's sake* Mary* answer the priest*" Jamie snapped.

Mary took exception to Jamie's hostile tone. She glared at her sister before turning back to the priest. "Oh* all right. I'll take him." Turning back to Jamie* she muttered* "There* sister* are you happy now? You've forced me to lie to a man of the cloth."

"I forced you?"

The gasp in Jamie's voice wasn't due entirely to her sister's outrageous statement. Alec's hand had curved around the base of her neck. His fingers were stroking her sensitive skin.

Father Charles nodded his approval of Mary's answer.

It was now Jamie's and Alec's turn. "Your full name* milord?" the priest asked.

"Alec Kincaid."

The priest nodded. He was in a hurry to get through this marriage ordeal* for the look in his sweet Jamie's eyes had turned murderous. In his haste* Father Charles threw in the word "willingly" when he asked her if she would have Alec for her husband.

"Willingly?" Jamie asked. She took a deep breath* preparing herself for the true opinion she was going to sting the priest with* then felt Alec's fingers tighten around her throat.

The man was obviously trying to intimidate her. Jamie reached up to pull his hand away* but Alec wouldn't be budged. He simply captured her fingers and continued to apply pressure.

He wasn't being the least bit subtle. Jamie got his silent message quick enough. The arrogant man was going to strangle her to death if she provoked him any further* and being Scots* as he was* she was certain he'd carry out his threat.

Her neck was starting to sting. "I'll take him*" she blurted out. The priest sighed with relief* then rushed through the rest of the ceremony. As soon as he gave his blessing* Mary tried to run out of the hall. Daniel caught her in two strides. He lifted her into his arms and kissed the scream right out of her* in front of Father Charles and the family. When he finished his gentle attack* Mary sagged against him. Jamie thought she looked like a wilted flower.

The twins started whimpering again* Papa began to sniffle* and Jamie wanted to die a quick death.

Alec Kincaid wasn't as forceful in his demand for a kiss to seal the vows. He merely moved to stand directly in front of his bride. His hands were settled on his hips* his muscular legs were braced apart* and his gaze was directed at the top of Jamie's bowed head.

He didn't say a word. Yet his rigid stance suggested he'd stand there all night if that was what was needed to get her to look at him. Jamie took comfort in the fact that he wasn't trying to strangle her any longer.

She could feel her heart pounding. She supposed Alec Kincaid would dare just about anything he wanted to. She gathered her courage and slowly lifted her gaze to meet his.

He really was frightening. His eyes were such a deep brown. Jamie could find very little warmth there* and after meeting his gaze for as long as she could manage without visibly cringing* she started to turn away.

Alec suddenly reached out and pulled her into his arms. His hand cupped her chin just as his mouth came down on hers. The kiss was hard* unyielding… and unbelievably warm.

Jamie felt as though she'd just been scorched by the sun. The kiss ended before she could even think to struggle* before she really wanted to move at all. She was temporarily speechless. She stared up at her husband a long while* wondering if the brief kiss had affected him as much as it had her.

Alec was amused by the confusion he could see in Jamie's eyes. It was apparent she hadn't been kissed much. She was blushing with embarrassment now. Her hands were clinging to each other in what looked like a death grip.

Aye* he was pleased with her* and he realized he hadn't been unaffected by the brief kiss* either. He couldn't quit looking at her. Hell* he wanted to kiss her again.

Mary's sudden bellow broke the spell.

"Now?" Mary shouted the word as though it were an obscenity. "Jamie* they mean to leave now!"

"Surely my sister misunderstood*" Jamie told Alec. "You aren't really leaving now* are you?"

"We are*" Alec answered. "Daniel and I have many responsibilities back home. We're leaving within the hour."

He hadn't mentioned Mary or her in his explanation. That realization captured her full attention. She almost smiled over the joyful possibility* then decided to make certain her guess was correct before getting her hopes up.

"Do you wish to share our humble dinner with us before you and Daniel leave?" she inquired.

He knew exactly what she was thinking. She'd betrayed herself when she stressed the word "you" in her question. The daft woman actually thought he was going to leave her behind. Alec felt like laughing. She looked so serious now* and so damned hopeful.

Alec shook his head.

Jamie felt as though a prison door had just been unlocked and she was once again free. She desperately tried to hide her joy* for it would have been rude by half to show such open pleasure over his leave-taking.

The marriages were to be in name only. Oh* why hadn't she realized that before? Alec and Daniel were simply doing the bidding of their overlord by marrying. Now they would go back home and resume their duties* whatever in God's name those might be* and leave their appreciative brides in England where they belonged.

It really wasn't such an unusual arrangement. Many marriages were settled in such a satisfying manner. Jamie actually felt a little foolish for not understanding sooner. She could have saved herself a good deal of worry.

Relief swept over her with a force that nearly made her knees buckle. Since she was used to making bargains with her Maker* she immediately promised God a twelve day novena for giving her this wonderful reprieve.

"Will you be returning to England for a stay in future?" she asked* trying to sound as if she thought that odious idea had an ounce of merit.

"It would take a war to bring me back."

"You needn't sound so cheerful over that possibility*" Jamie countered before she thought better of it. She let him see her frown* too* and didn't care if she offended him. The man was as blunt as a cudgel. And if he wasn't going to be polite* then she wasn't going to bother with her manners either. She tossed her hair over her shoulder* turned her back on Alec* and slowly walked away from him. " 'Tis already high afternoon* Kincaid*" she called over her shoulder. "You'd best be on your way* for I'm sure you have a good distance to cover before the day is finished."

She almost added that it had been a pleasure to meet him* but the lie would have cost her another novena so she kept silent.

Jamie had just reached the table when her husband's hard command stopped her cold.

"Gather your things and say farewell to your family* Jamie* while Daniel and I see to the horses. Be quick about it."

"You as well* Mary*" Daniel interjected in that cheerful voice of his that was beginning to drive Jamie wild.

"Why must we hurry?" Mary asked.

"Alec and I have vowed not to sleep on English soil another night. We've a good distance to cover before darkness sets in."

Jamie whirled around just in time to watch the two Scotsmen walk out of the room. Her hands gripped the table edge behind her back. "Kincaid? You're supposed to leave me here*" she called out. "This is just a marriage of convenience* isn't it?"

He stopped in the center of the hallway* then turned around to face her. "Aye* wife* it is a marriage of convenience. My convenience. Do you understand me?"

She ignored his angry tone of voice and his harsh expression. "No* Kincaid* I don't understand."

She'd tried to sound as arrogant as he looked* yet knew her effort was ruined by the tremor in her voice.

Her bluster of anger didn't fool him. He knew she was frightened; his smile told her so. "In time I promise that you will understand. I give you my word."

She didn't want his word* but she didn't think that was going to matter very much to him. He really was a warlord from hell* after all. She wasn't up to arguing with him* either. Her eyes filled with tears just as soon as he disappeared out the doorway* and all she wanted to do was throw herself into the closest chair and have a good cry.

She was too upset to think about gathering her possessions. The twins took care of that task* allowing Jamie precious time with her father.

By the time Agnes and Alice returned to the great hall* Mary was in a fine state of nerves. She could barely stammer out her farewell before rushing out of the room.

"I'll have the rest of your things packed carefully* Jamie* and sent on to you within a week's time*" Agnes vowed. "These Highlands can't be very far away."

"I'll pack your beautiful tapestries*" Alice interjected. "I promise I won't forget anything. In no time at all you'll be feeling right at home."

"Alice* I already told Jamie I'd take care of that chore*" Agnes muttered. "Honestly* sister* you're always trying to better me. Oh* Jamie? I put your mama's shawl in your satchel with your medicine jars."

"Thank you* sisters*" Jamie said. She quickly hugged them both. "Oh* I'm going to miss you two. You're such dear sisters."

"Jamie* you're so very brave*" Agnes whispered. "You look so calm* so serene. I'd be daft by now. You're married to the one who—"

"You needn't remind her*" Alice muttered. "She couldn't have forgotten he killed his first wife* sister."

"We aren't absolutely sure*" her twin argued.

Jamie wished the twins would stop trying to comfort her.

Their reminders about Alec Kincaid were making her more upset than ever.

Baron Jamison tugged on Jamie's skirt to get her attention. "I'll be dead in a week* I will. Who will see to my meals? Who will listen to my stories?"

"Now* Papa* Agnes and Alice will take good care of you. You're going to be just fine*" she soothed. She bent over her father* kissed his forehead* and then added* "Please don't carry on so. Mary and I will come to see you and…"

She couldn't finish her lie* couldn't tell her father it was going to be all right. Her world had just ended; everything that was familiar and safe was being snatched away.

It was Agnes who whispered Jamie's greatest fear aloud. "We're never going to see you again* are we* Jamie? He won't let you come home* will he?"

"I promise you I'll find a way to come and see you*" Jamie vowed. Her voice shook and her eyes stung with unshed tears. Dear God* this leave-taking was painful.

Baron Jamison kept muttering between his sobs that the Scots had robbed him of his precious babies and how in God's name was he ever going to get along without them? Although Jamie tried to console her father* in the end it proved to be a useless undertaking. Papa didn't want to quiet down. The more Jamie tried* the louder he wailed.

Beak came to fetch her. A small tug-of-war resulted when he tried to separate father from daughter. Baron Jamison wouldn't let go of Jamie's hand. The task was finally won when Jamie gave assistance.

"Come along* Jamie. 'Tis best not to anger your new husband. He's waiting patiently in the courtyard for you. Lord Daniel and Lady Mary have already started toward Scotland* lass. Come with me now. A new life awaits you."

Beak's soft voice helped to soothe Jamie. She took hold of his hand and walked by his side toward the entrance. When she paused to give her family one last farewell* Beak nudged her forward.

"Don't be looking back* Jamie. And quit your shivering. Start thinking about your happy future."

"It's my future that has me shivering*" Jamie confessed.

"Beak* I don't know anything about this husband of mine. All the black rumors about him make me worry. I don't want to be married to him."

"What's done is done*" Beak announced. "There's two ways to look at this* lass. You can go into this marriage with your eyes closed tight against your man and be miserable for the rest of your days* or you can open them real wide* accept your husband* and make the best of your life."

"I don't want to hate him."

Beak smiled. Jamie had sounded so pitifully forlorn. "Then don't hate him*" he advised. "You ain't any good at hating anyway. Your heart's too tender* girl. Besides*" he continued as he nudged her farther ahead* "it ain't so unordinary after all."

"What isn't so unordinary?"

"Many a bride goes to her wedding without knowing her mate."

"But those brides were English* Beak* marrying Englishmen."

"Hush* now*" Beak ordered* hearing the fear in her voice. "He's a good man* this Kincaid. I took his measure* Jamie. He'll treat you right."

"How would you know that?" Jamie asked. She tried to stop and turn to face Beak but he kept nudging her forward. "There's that rumor* if you'll remember* that he killed his first wife."

"And you believe it?"

Her answer was immediate. "I don't."

"Why not?"

Jamie shrugged. "I can't explain it*" she whispered. "I just think he wouldn't…" She let out a sigh* then added* "You'll think me daft* Beak* but his eyes… well* he isn't an evil man."

"I happen to know for fact it's a lie*" Beak announced. "He didn't kill her. I put the question to him* Jamie* asked him right out."

"You didn't." His outrageous statement made her laugh. "Beak* he must have been furious with you."

"Spit*" Beak whispered. "Your future was my concern* not his anger*" he boasted. "Of course* it was only after I heard he was going to choose you that I asked him anything* you understand."

"When did you have time?" Jamie asked* frowning.

"Ain't important*" Beak said hurriedly. "Besides* I knew Kincaid was a good one as soon as I looked real close at his horse." He gave Jamie another gentle prod between her shoulderblades to get her moving toward her husband again. "This warrior's going to treat you with just as much care."

"Oh* for heaven's sake*" Jamie muttered. "You've been a stable master too many years* old friend. There's a difference between a wife and a horse. I can see you believe this nonsense you're telling me. You're looking very pleased with yourself."

"And feeling pleased*" Beak boasted. "I just got you clean outside without having to drag you none* now* didn't I?"

He knew his comment startled her* for her eyes widened and he had to nudge her again when she came to an abrupt stop.

Alec was standing in the center of the courtyard next to his mount. His expression didn't give her a guess as to what he was thinking* but Jamie didn't believe he'd been patiently waiting for her arrival* as Beak had said. No* the Kincaid didn't look like the patient sort at all.

Alec was certain she was going to cause an uproar when they reached the Highlands. He held her gaze a long minute* wondering to himself just when he was going to get accustomed to her. Her eyes were the most vivid shade of violet he'd ever seen.

There was blue and then there was blue. Beak had made that odd remark* Alec remembered. Now he understood what the stable master meant.