Scots and Lasses: Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Moriag Book 5) Read online

  “Miss McGregor.” His deep voice resonated through her and he lowered his head, barely a bow. “I am Carrick Gordon. Your betrothed.”

  Analise’s eyes flew to each of the people surrounding them. Surely this was a cruel joke. A jest at her expense. At any moment, another man would stumble into the courtyard and be introduced as the real bridegroom. The laird leaned forward, as if anticipating something, perhaps for her to utter something in response, but she found herself at a lack for words.

  Thankfully, Carrick presented his arm and spoke again. “Allow me to escort you inside.” She slid her hand onto his arm. His strong forearm under her palm steadied her.

  They followed the laird and her uncle into the clan’s great room, the man beside her silent. If he’d been as anxious about her, it could explain his lack of conversation. She wondered if he’d been displeased upon meeting her.

  She was not plain of face, and her body remained trim, her breasts full. At the same time, she brought little in the way of a dowry to offer a future laird.

  From under her lashes, she slid her gaze to where her hand rested on her bridegroom’s thick arm. She wanted to study him further. Unfortunately, his height made it impossible for her to look at his face.

  He led her forward, the entire time remaining aloof, rigid almost.

  “I didn’t get the opportunity to introduce myself,” Analise whispered to him. “I am…”

  “I am aware of who you are, Analise McGregor.” His words were curt, almost as if he were bothered that she’d been taken aback upon meeting him. Surely he was used to people’s reactions to his astonishing good looks?

  When they stopped beside a chair, Analise was finally able to look at him and she managed a smile. At a loss as to what to say while they stood with the group, she glanced across the room. “You have a very nice home.”

  Carrick did not reply to her comment. He motioned to the chair. “Would you please sit? I’m afraid my father’s wife is not feeling well. However, she should join us at the evening meal.”

  His father’s wife. Ah, yes, she remembered now hearing that Carrick’s mother died several years earlier. “Thank you,” Analise told him and sat.

  Whisky was poured for the men and sweet mead for her. The men drank and spoke of subjects she did not care about and, thankfully, they did not pay much attention to her. The respite was not only welcome but gave her a chance to study the man she would marry.

  Although cordial to her uncle, Carrick seemed to remain separate from the other men. She noticed when the laird spoke, he never looked to his son, but spoke only to her uncle. Likewise, Carrick Gordon did the same only speaking to her uncle.

  “It’s a pity to see you ignored,” a second, deep voice spoke at her ear and Analise turned to sparkling green eyes. “I am Declan Gordon,” the handsome man held out his hand to take hers. “The younger brother.” He kissed the back of her hand and held it a bit too long before releasing it.

  Carrick looked over at hearing his brother’s voice. They locked gazes; Carrick’s remaining flat, expressionless, while Declan let out a soft chuckle.

  “I hope after your travels you don’t find yourself too weary.” Declan lowered to the chair next to hers and continued speaking. He was charming and set her at ease, pointing out people in attendance and telling anecdotes about each person. Before long, she relaxed while listening to the younger Gordon’s tales.

  Every once in a while, she’d ask Carrick a question and try to draw him into the conversation. Other than a grunt or short reply, he resisted. Analise gave up and decided to enjoy his brother’s company instead.

  “Is your brother always so sullen?” Analise studied her intended for a second before turning to Declan, who shrugged.

  “I suppose, yes. He has his reasons.”

  She wondered at the cryptic reply but did not ask as the younger Gordon soon excused himself to sit at the guardsmen’s table.

  Chapter Three

  Morning came finally. After a fitful, sleepless night, Carrick ate without appetite. Everyone broke their fast in the great room, his father presiding over the clan like a king on a throne. Angus Gordon sat centered at the high board with Analise’s uncle and Declan to his right. Carrick and Analise sat on the opposite side.

  The room was much quieter than the night before. Everyone seemed to sense the waves of anxiety coming from his intended. She’d been cordial enough the night before, even softening while in conversation with Declan, but now she seemed to have withdrawn back to the same scared woman who’d arrived the day before.

  Her eyes flew around the room and, just like him, she only picked at her meal. Carrick could not find any words that would set her mind at ease, as he himself was suddenly struck with nerves at the thought of marrying.

  Finally, the meal ended. They moved to stand and Carrick assisted Analise down. Her hand was light on his arm, yet his full attention remained on the spot until she removed it.

  Everyone progressed to the center of the room where Carrick’s father motioned for them to stand. The laird’s face was bright, his eyes darting between Carrick and Analise. Lips curving, he smirked and clapped his hands. “’Tis time. We will go to the chapel shortly,” his father announced and waved serving women over to pour ale into cups. “Fill everyone’s cups.”

  Carrick fought not to walk out of the room, the entire charade distasteful.

  The laird held up his cup. “Everyone, a toast to my son’s wedding.” Everyone held up filled cups with loud cheers.

  Carrick accepted his and his intended’s beverages. She swallowed visible when he handed her a filled cup and failed when attempting at a smile, her lips trembling instead.

  “Come, you should sit for a few minutes. Once the priest arrives, we will go to the chapel.” Carrick guided Analise to once again sit in one of several chairs next to the large hearth. When she was settled, he went to join her uncle, who remained waiting for whatever his father did to prolong the morning. Angus thoroughly enjoyed being the center of attention, especially with the new witnesses of the few McGregors that came as escorts.

  No sooner had he joined the men than his brother moved away from the laird and went to Analise. His lips curved when noticing Carrick’s regard.

  Analise listened to whatever Declan spoke, but her eyes constantly traveled about the room. Perhaps she sensed the need to get away from Declan, an intuition that he was a rogue. Or perhaps, she wished to escape to keep from marrying him. Carrick shouldn’t care which prompted her constant vigil, but he did.

  Her uncle tapped his arm, his kind eyes lifted to him. “Take care of her, lad, she is a good woman. Doesn’t deserve this lot. Losing her husband and child at such a young age.”

  Carrick once again studied Analise McGregor. He’d describe her as fetching with long, wavy hair the color of fall leaves and light eyes that reminded him of a misty sky. Her face was oval, a soft sprinkling of freckles across her upturned nose. Her lips, well, he could only stand to glance upon them. A more enticing mouth he’d never seen. They were full lips that turned up at the corners and begged for a man’s kiss. At the direction of his thoughts, he scowled, and she looked to him, their eyes locking.

  “I didn’t know she lost a babe,” Carrick told her uncle while keeping his gaze on his soon to be wife. “How did it happen?”

  “The shock I suppose. Upon learning of her husband’s death during the battle with the damn Mackenzies two years past, she lost the babe days after.”

  That explained the sadness in her eyes. “Why marry her to my clan so soon?”

  “We need the alliance. She needs protection. A widow in our clan, especially one so young and attractive, will not be safe from the clansmen. We brought her to the keep, but even our laird cannot provide constant protection from the single guards’ attention. I had to find a way to protect her.”

  “Why not marry her to someone in your clan?” Not that he wished her gone, he just wondered the true reason for her being sent away.

&nb
sp; “She is a widow, lad. Only one younger clansman asked for her hand. He withdrew the offer when finding out how small a dowry she possessed. Her husband did not leave her much.” Her uncle shook his head. “Analise would have declined the offer. It was too soon after her husband and child’s death. Time passed and then she attracted the eye of our laird’s son, but not for marriage. So I had to act quickly.”

  “I see.”

  Not able to garner her full attention, Declan gave up and walked away leaving Analise alone. Although he should, Carrick didn’t feel ready to approach her. Not yet, his mind was full of questions. Why did she not seek out a man in her clan? With her beauty, it would not have been hard to garner a husband, small dowry or not.

  Brave or a good actress, he had to admit he’d admired her lack of reaction to first meeting him. Even as she’d tracked his movements upon first seeing him, she’d managed to keep from showing any response at his disfigurement. But he’d seen it, the slight parting of her lips, the way she looked down his body in order to not focus on his scar.

  “Carrick?” She’d neared without him noticing and placed her hand on his forearm. He tried not to react to the touch, but his treacherous body tensed, and he inhaled sharply. “I believe it’s time.”

  On the walk to the chapel, the trembling of her fingers on his arm was the only outward sign of any fear or hesitance. Analise kept her chin up, her eyes straight ahead. Carrick had to respect her tenacity. If nothing else, he’d found a strong woman in his betrothed. Hopefully, she’d be an agreeable match.

  Nothing to be done about it either way, they were to be bound for life, and, with amazing bravery, she faced a future tied to a disfigured man. She must have sensed his regard because she turned to him, her clear eyes meeting his only for a split second. “Are you sure of this?”

  “I gave my word.”

  Her hand fell from his arm and she turned to him. “Of course you did. But being first born, you must have aspired to wedding someone of higher standing. You can always send me back.”

  “Is that what you wish?” Carrick couldn’t bear to look at her and witness any distress because of his appearance, so, instead, he kept his gaze past her and waited. He would not send her back. It would mark her as unwanted. If he rejected her, the action would bring shame upon her and Clan McGregor.

  “Honestly, right now, I don’t know what I wish,” she replied just above a whisper. Her candor surprised him.

  “Come along, dear.” Her uncle came up from behind and prodded them forward. He rounded them to walk alongside the laird and gave Analise an understanding smile. “It’s your marriage ceremony. Time of good cheer.”

  “Yes, Uncle.” They followed the elderly man, her hand once again on his arm, her eyes trained forward, a picture of serenity. If not for the rapid pulse at her creamy throat, he’d swear she was not affected by the proceedings.

  When he covered her hand with his, her eyes flew to his and she blinked tears away. “Thank you.”

  The ceremony commenced without haste, their hands bound together, words spoken over them that they repeated which were followed by cheers from the clansmen, who were, no doubt, more excited at the prospect of feasting, drink, and music than the joining of their future laird and wife.

  Chapter Four

  How different from her first marriage when the anticipation fueled her nerves until she’d been almost faint with it. Her face had ached from smiling so broadly at marrying the man she’d loved since childhood. Her clan’s chapel had been replete with flowers and the cheers that rose loudly were accompanied by music. They’d been surrounded by people who’d actually cared and were as happy as she to see them joined.

  This midday, the chapel was not decorated, but rather bare. Only a handful of people sat at the pews and only a lone guardsman joined her uncle at the front bench nearest where she stood.

  Except for the stoic bridegroom, she’d have to admit this ceremony was not as distasteful as she expected.

  Nonetheless, her stomach churned and threatened to bring up her breakfast when Carrick bent to kiss her. The feathery kiss lasted but a mere instant, she’d yet to close her eyes when he straightened. The amber eyes looked directly into hers as if in daring. What exactly did Carrick Gordon anticipate?

  She met his gaze and held it.

  Finally, he looked away and led her from the chapel. The festivities began with pipers and jugglers entertaining the clan’s people who made their way, once again, into the great hall.

  Several hours passed and she began to relax. She and Carrick mingled with the crowd. Her hand on his arm, he led her around and introduced her to clan’s people who seemed to genuinely like her new husband.

  The air was filled with a mixture of jubilant music and excited voices.

  Once seated, Analise clapped along with a merry melody for a few minutes enjoying the respite from the last years of living a cloistered and sad life.

  Soon she’d be abed with her new husband. The consummation loomed, which could not be avoided as he was to be Laird Gordon. There could be no doubt they were husband and wife in every right.

  Heat crept from her neck at the thought of intimacy with the stranger she’d only met the day before. Yet she wasn’t afraid of him. Analise had studied her husband over the hours since meeting him. Aloof as he was, Carrick took time to listen when the clan’s people spoke to him and even stopped several times to tussle a young one’s hair.

  Moments later, she noted he gripped the arms of the chair, his gazed locked across the room. She touched his arm and leaned into his ear. “Carrick, are you unwell?”

  When he faced her, she saw a dark rage in his eyes and felt her own eyes widen. “No, I am not unwell. I am perfectly well.”

  Analise sat back in her chair and followed his line of vision to where his brother stood. The younger Gordon spoke with a serving girl who looked nervous at the attention, her reddened face turning away often. Carrick took her attention from the couple. “Are you in need of refreshment?” He stood to his full height, dwarfing the other men in the room.

  “Err…no, thank you.” She watched him cross the room to where his brother now held the maid by the arm. Analise wondered if, perhaps, Carrick was jealous. Was there something between him and the young girl?

  The brothers faced off, both leaning at the waist, fists at their sides. Unfortunately, the revelers obscured them and Analise fought the urge to jump to her feet to see what happened next. Finally, when the people shifted and she had a clear view, only Declan remained. Carrick and the young girl had gone.

  It was best for her to find out what happened. If her new husband planned to frolic with a maid on their wedding night, she wouldn’t stand for it. At the very least, Carrick would not get away without knowing her opinion on the subject. Of all the nerve.

  She lifted her skirts and, in a flurry, crossed the room and exited the doorway onto a balcony just beyond where the three people she’d watched stood a few moments earlier. It was not hard to find her husband.

  The only person outside in a side garden was Carrick. He leaned over the railing, both hands on the wall, his head bent, eyes closed. He must have heard her soft footsteps. “Declan, please leave or I swear by the gods I will kill you.”

  A wave of relief filled her at finding him alone, yet Analise wasn’t sure if she should return or let him know he was mistaken. Unable to stay away from someone hurting like he did, she neared. “It’s me. What happens?”

  “You.” He said the word without inflection, leaving her to not understand the lack of emotion.

  “I wondered if you’d left with…”

  With a mirthless chuckle, he shook his head. “No, I will remain until tomorrow morning. Once we join as husband and wife, I will be free to take you with me to my home. The sooner I leave this place the better.”

  “Your home!” Analise gasped not knowing what she’d expected. Certainly, she did not know she’d be going elsewhere. Was he taking her further away from her people? “Y
ou mean we are not to live here with your clan? Are you not to be the next laird?”

  “I do not live here. I will return only upon the current laird’s death.” She noted he did not refer to the laird as “Father”. It was very apparent that something had happened between Carrick and his family. She wasn’t sure if he was at fault or not, but it was something she planned to find out.

  He took her hand and placed it onto the crook of his arm. “Now, my lady, should we make a final appearance before seeking our bed?”.

  “Yes, of course.” Her voice trembled. “But first…”

  He watched her in silence waiting to see what she’d ask.

  “What happened with your brother moments ago?”

  Her new husband’s gaze fell to the floor before he let out a breath and lifted his gaze to her. “My brother is a rake. I could care less, but the young maid he accosted earlier has been placed in our care after her grandmother died.” Carrick shook his head. “Declan does things just to do them. He rarely thinks them through.”

  “I’m making sure she is assigned a new post out of his sights.”

  Chapter Five

  There was no doubt in Analise’s mind. Carrick Gordon did not wish to be married to her. The stern man was not happy to be tied to a woman who brought little more than an alliance with a weaker clan and a tiny cache of gold.

  She didn’t blame him, actually. Instead, she pitied him. A strong, handsome man like Carrick deserved to dream of a future with a beautiful wife who would bring honor to his position. Someone he could be proud of. Not someone like her. A widow who’d spent more time in mourning than enjoying life the last two years.