Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

S omewhere in the MacLeod lands…

Pressing against the rough bark of the tree, most of his huge muscular frame hidden behind it, Domhnall MacLeod pulled the string of his bow up to the corner of his mouth. He took a long breath in and aimed. With his eye on the prize, he released his breath at the same time he released his arrow, but in that very second, the hairy boar jolted and ran.

“Damn it.”

“Och, that’s the third time ye’ve missed it,” Kai crowed with laughter. “I think ye’re losing yer touch, brother.”

“Aye,” Magnus agreed. “Or maybe the beast can smell ye a mile away. When’s the last time ye had a bath?”

With his long dark brown wavy hair now matted to his head after hunting all day, Domhnall wondered if Magnus might have a point, but he snarled at his brothers, and with lightning speed, he was suddenly at their sides.

“Hey, dinnae be using yer gift on me, or I’ll force ye tae cry,” Kai said, readying to defend himself.

He was far slenderer than his brothers, and stood no chance against Domhnall, but he was a fine fighter all the same.

“He will too,” Magnus nodded.

“Get out of me head, Magnus,” Kai snarled playfully.

They rarely used the gifts they had been endowed with at birth on each other, but the threat to do so was always fun. While Domhnall, the oldest of the brothers, had lightning speed and the strength of ten men, Kai, the youngest, could coerce emotions, and Magnus had always been able to hear people’s thoughts, which had completely freaked him out as a child.

Domhnall smirked at the two of them. “Both o’ ye need tae grow up.”

“Hey, we’re nae the ones who cannae kill the boar,” Kai quipped back.

“Maybe I’ll bring ye home for the roast instead,” Domhnall shot back.

“Aye, I’d like to see ye try.”

The three brothers had been out hunting all morning, but to no avail. Each time Domhnall had managed to get anywhere close to a prey, the damned beasts had escaped him. Maybe Kai, the youngest of the three, was right. Maybe he was losing his touch.

Or maybe, ye’re distracted and have other things on yer mind.

There was that, too.

Tomorrow, the woman he had been ordered to marry would arrive. A Sassenach, of all people. He abhorred the idea, of course, but King Edward I had persuaded him with arguments of peace and the fact that marrying an English woman would be the beginnings of them bridging the gap between the borders.

Domhnall had seen enough death, not least of which, his own parents’. An occurrence that taunted him even now. He was tired of war and bloodshed, for the lands of Scotland were soaked in it. If there was a chance for peace, ought he not to grab hold of it with both hands?

That being said, neither was he a fool. He was laird over the clan lands, and thus, extremely protective of his people. He had considered the king’s other motivations, for he was certain he had them. There had been too many losses on either side for him to give up so easily. Domhnall was thus determined to make certain this marriage did not open the door to even more troubles, like the English pushing into Scottish territory.

“Ye’re troubled,” Magnus said.

He always was the more astute of them all, even with his mind-reading abilities. His hair was a shade darker and shorter than his brother’s, falling in loose waves around his face, and as he looked intently at him with his deep blue eyes, something they all had in common, he waited for Domhnall’s reply.

“Aye. I am. Me mind is on other things.”

“The English woman,” Kai said, all mockery now gone from his tone.

“Aye.” Domhnall nodded. “The English woman.”

Kai frowned. “Are ye sure ye’re doing the right thing marrying her?”

“We’ve talked about this ‘afore, Kai. I’m nae going through it all again.”

“All right.” Kai raised his hands in surrender. “I just worry about ye, is all.”

Domhnall smirked. “I think ye have enough on yer plate with all the lasses ye have after ye.”

But Kai didn’t bite. “Stop changing the subject. And ye may be laird, but there’s only a year between each o’ us. I might be the youngest, but I’m nae a fool.”

Domhnall gave him a somber look. “I ken that, braither. And I thank ye fer yer concern. But like I say, we’ve gone over this many times. There’s really naething more tae say.”

“I think we should head back tae the castle,” Magnus suggested. “I dinnae ken about ye two, but I cannae feel me feet any longer, and I’m certain a whisky will warm us all up.”

Nodding, Domhnall said, “That’s the best suggestion I’ve heard all morning.”

The snow fall beneath their feet was beginning to melt, leaving the ground wet, cold and muddy. No doubt there would be more in the coming months, for the winters on the Isle of Skye were always harsh. The bitter wind carrying the icy winds from the sea from the west didn’t help, and even with all the fires lit, there were parts of the castle that were desperately cold.

As they trudged through the forest and headed toward the main path, Kai said, “And we could all do with a bath. Look at the state o’ us.”

Magnus looked down at himself and chuckled. “Well, at least we didnae wear our best clothes.”

Once on the main track, they found their horses still tied to the trees, where they had left them. The dense forest they had just left ran parallel to the track, almost all the way to the castle.

“What dae ye think she’ll be like, this new wife o’ yers?” Kai said, tying his bag to the saddle.

“Och, nay doubt some quiet meek thing,” Domhnall replied. “Ye ken the Sassenachs. They’re all propriety and manners.”

“She’ll fit right in then,” Magnus quipped.

The three brothers burst into laughter and were about to mount their beasts, when the sound of horses approaching had the three of them spinning around to look behind them.

“Get back intae the trees,” Domhnall demanded.

They ran back the way they had come, and with their swords pulled from their waists, and crouching low, they waited for the horses to arrive.

“Ye think it’s another attack?” Kai hissed.

Domhnall shook his head. “I dinnae ken, but I’m nae taking any chances.”

They didn’t have to wait long, for over the brow of the hill, a group of soldiers emerged.

“It’s the English,” Magnus spat.

“Aye, but it’s hardly an army,” Domhnall noted. “And besides, they’re out here in full view. It doesnae mak’ any sense.”

“What are we going tae dae?” Kai asked.

“We’re going tae ask them what the devil they’re doing here,” Domhnall said, standing fully erect and running out into the soldier’s path with his sword held high.

“Halt,” the lead soldier shouted, shocked at the sight of Domhnall and his brothers.

“Who are ye? What are ye doing here?” Domhnall demanded.

“We are here…”

But as the soldier continued, Domhnall could hear a woman’s voice behind him.

“…just get to this castle and be done with this travel. How much farther can we possibly be?”

While Kai and Magnus continued to question the soldiers, Domhnall stepped past the first few horses, searching for where the voice was coming from. He came to a sudden halt when he saw a woman sitting side saddle, and a few things flew through his mind in that moment.

This has tae be the English woman. Our lasses dinnae ride side-saddle.

My god, she’s stunning.

This is me future bride?

Glaring down at him, she said, “Have you never seen a woman on a horse before?”

“Nae quite the meek, mild-mannered lass ye were expecting, is she?” Kai whispered into his ear with a huge smirk.

“Ye have travelled far, me lady,” Domhnall began. “Welcome tae the Isle o’ Skye. I am?—”

“I am here to see the laird. Now, I beg ye, let us by.”

Clearly, given his present appearance, she didn’t realize who he was, and in truth, he couldn’t blame her. He was in a bit of a state.

“I am?—”

“Do you not understand English?” she asked. “I am?—”

But suddenly, her horse, trying to pull its hooves out of the deep mud, jerked forward, throwing the woman off its back. She landed in a muddy puddle, yelping in distress.

“Oh. Oh, my lord! Help me,” she cried, looking up at the soldiers who accompanied her.

But as each soldier clambered down from their horse, they too, got stuck and struggled to pull their feet from the thick muck to reach her.

“Perhaps the English need tae learn how tae navigate real terrain,” Domhnall said dryly.

This remark sent Magnus and Kai into peals of laughter, and the three stood chuckling for a minute. Lady de Beaumont, as he now knew she was, did not find his wit amusing in the slightest, and glaring up at him, she spat. “And perhaps the Scottish should learn some manners.”

Domhnall’s eyes flew wide at her fiery response. She certainly wasn’t what he had been expecting, and found himself both amused and intrigued by her behavior and boldness.

“Please, let me help ye.”

“I don’t need your help,” she hissed, pressing a gloved hand into the ground beside her to get her balance. Like the rest of her, her hand sunk deep into the soggy ground, eliciting a rather comical look of disgust.

“Please yersel’,” Domhnall chuckled.

Clearly, she was as stubborn as she was bold, and perhaps, given the circumstances, she felt she needed to assert her independence, what with being surrounded by so many men. Whatever her reasons, she was certainly not the woman he expected. Besides, what was she doing here? She hadn’t been due to arrive until the following day.

He sighed inwardly then, thinking about all the time and effort he had put into the arrangements he had made for her arrival. He had planned music, and entertainers, and the maids and servants were going to be lined up to welcome her. The preparations for the feast were all underway, and, he supposed, that could still happen. But he and his brothers would also have been dressed in attire fit to welcome a lady.

Och, well. That was a waste o’ me time.

After watching her struggle for several more minutes, Domhnall was growing impatient, and noting where the ground looked more solid, he placed a foot there and leaned forward. Slipping his arms under her knees and behind her back, he lifted her with no effort at all.

His action obviously surprised her, for she gasped, automatically wrapping her hands around his neck. He watched her cheeks bloom red with anger, and yet, she did not complain, nor did she fight him off.

Once back on firm ground, Lady de Beaumont brushed herself down, but in doing so, only spread the mud that was already on her hands all over her clothes. Without looking at him, she hissed, “Thank you.”

“Aye, well. Someone had tae dae it or ye’d still be there by night fall. Now, as I was?—”

“Just because you laid your hands on me, without my permission, I might add, does not give you the right to speak to me,” she spat. “We will be on our way to the castle now. I’m sure you…” she struggled to find a word as her eyes roved his person in disgust, “…men, have other things to do…”

Behind Domhnall, Kai was tittering, clearly finding this entire situation hilarious. Domhnall supposed he couldn’t blame him. It was funny in its ridiculousness. If the woman would just let him speak.

“I’ve finished me ditch-digging today,” he countered sarcastically, “but I’d be happy tae throw ye back intae that puddle if ye carry on being so rude.”

“You are impertinent, aren’t you? I wonder what your laird would think if he knew you were speaking to me in such a manner.”

Domhnall was getting a little frustrated by her arrogance, and spinning to look at her, he said, “If ye dinnae watch yer tongue, I’ll lock ye in the laird’s dungeons.”

“I hardly think so,” she laughed mirthlessly. “My betrothed,” she spat the word with obvious venom, “would never let a barbarian like you put a hand on me.”

“Is that right?” Domhnall said, taking a long step towards her. With no hesitation, he picked her up and threw her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Argh,” she shrieked. “Put me down. Put me down this minute.”

The soldiers went to move, but Kai and Magnus jerked their swords towards them threateningly.

Domhnall then turned to speak to the Englishmen.

“Yer charge needs tae think before she opens that pretty little mouth o’ hers. Ye see, this rude barbarian, is nay other than her future husband.”

The soldier’s faces dropped, and behind him, he could hear Lady de Beaumont gasp again.

“And believe me when I say, I have nay problem at all locking her in me dungeons. Perhaps while she’s in there, she can learn some manners. The cold, dark cells might even teach her, her place.”