Chapter 2

“She’s late. Where the hell is she?” Alec Mackintosh spat furiously. The waiting reverend backed away slightly, looking nervous as he clutched his bible. Alec, resplendent in his lairdly clan regalia, was pacing before the altar of the small kirk in the grounds of Mackintosh Castle.

“Calm yerself, Braither,” his younger brother Bran, told him in a whisper. “Ye ken how long it can take a woman tae get ready, and ’tis her wedding day after all. Nae doubt she wants tae look her best.”

Alec let out a bitter laugh. “Ach, I doubt that! She arrived yesterday, and she well kens the time of the ceremony. There’s nae good reason fer her tae be late.”

“Show a wee bit of patience, will ye? She’ll be here,” Bran assured him.

“If she makes a fool of me fer much longer, she can be sure I’ll make her life hell after we’re wed,” Alec fumed.

“Look, Alec, we all ken how difficult this is fer ye, but ’tis ten times worse fer her,” Bran whispered. “The lass thinks we murdered her faither.”

“Aye, and even though we had naethin’ tae dae with her faither’s death, she’s decided tae make a scene today, I’ll wager, tae try tae make me a laughingstock.”

“But the whole of Clan Fraser believes we were responsible, and that’s what’s important,” Bran countered. “She’s likely waitin’ tae see if her braither’s comin’ tae the weddin’. Ye ken he’s delayed by some problem at home. ’Tis a shame, but he’s unlikely tae get here in time now. She’ll have nae one at all tae support her. Ye cannae blame the lass fer bein’ nervous.”

Alec clenched his fists and snarled with frustration because he knew Bran was right. Though younger than Alec, Bran was the levelheaded one, the sensible one all the siblings went to for fatherly counsel and support. Alec glanced sideways at their sister Catreena seated in the front of the row of benches set out for the guests. She shook her head and shot him a look that said, “Dinnae dae anythin’ stupid.”

A few more minutes passed with no sign of the bride. Alec continued pacing, the whispering of the few guests, his family and a few council members because of the hastily arranged nuptials, grating on his ears. Finally, his patience snapped.

“Dinnae move, I’ll be back,” he ordered the white-faced reverend before shaking off Bran’s arm and storming out of the hall.

I’ll drag her here if I have tae!

He stalked down the hallway, making for the bride’s chambers, Bran’s words ringing in his ears. He well knew Euan Fraser was delayed because of problems in one of his villages at home. As laird, Alec understood the man had to put his duty first. It made his chest tighten to know that his bride would likely be alone, wed to a hated stranger in a strange castle, far from her home but he dismissed any sympathy he might have for her. In his experience, such emotions never did anyone any good. She would be his wife, however either of them felt about it.

As he strode across the courtyard towards the castle keep, a flash of movement in the near distance caught his eye.

“Jaysus!” he exploded, seeing a slight, feminine figure in fancy clothing, her skirts held high, racing toward the stables. His bride.

“Hey, stop, come back here!” he bellowed. She did not stop, but she glanced over her shoulder, and on seeing him running after her, quickened her pace.

He pounded off in pursuit, and she was almost at the stable doors when he caught her. She shrieked as he clamped his hands around her waist and lifted her bodily, slinging her over his shoulder as easily as a sack of potatoes.

“Where d’ye think ye’re goin’?” Alec demanded as he carried her back towards the kirk.

Kira Fraser wriggled like a fish and pounded his back with her fists, yelling,

“Get away from me, ye murderin’ bastard! Get off me, ye brute. Let me down!” To his surprise, and a prickle of amusement, she added some colorful curses worthy of a hardened soldier.

Well, that’s nae something ye hear every day from a lass’ mouth!

“I dinnae think so. Ye must be really stupid tae try and escape a union forced by the King’s hand,” Alec told her as he headed back the chapel. “What would yer braither say if he found out?”

“I hate ye, ye dog, get yer hands off of me!” Kira hissed and writhed, shouting insults and more curses.

“Ye may as well save yer breath. Ye’re getting wed tae me today, whether ye like it or nae.”

“I ken that, ye fool, I just wanted tae postpone the wedding until me braither can come!” she shouted, ceasing her struggles, clearly realizing he was stronger, and she was not going to escape. “I’m nae daft enough tae really try tae flee.”

Alec felt a twinge of pity for her, but he soon crushed it. “How did ye escape the guards?”

Surprising him again, she laughed. “They’re both unconscious.”

That shook him. “How?” he asked, unable to believe such a wee chit could have overpowered two armed men. But she just laughed again in reply, leaving him to wonder if he had underestimated her.

They got to the kirk porch, and he set her on her feet. “Dinnae try tae run again if ye ken what’s good fer ye,” he warned her as she cast him a black look. Getting her breath, she smoothed her skirts and appeared to compose herself. While she did so, Alec took his first good look at his bride-to-be.

She was small and slender in her low-necked embroidered gown, but she had curves in all the right places. Her hair, dark-brown, long, thick, and wavy was pinned back by a headdress of lucky white heather. Someone had a sense of humor, he supposed, for he knew they would need more than good luck if they were not to kill each other before the month was out.

His eyes wandered to her face. Her skin was pale and flawless, her features delicate, with a small, straight nose peppered with a few golden freckles, and a heart-shaped chin. When she looked up at him, her small, plump lips pursed angrily and he felt a strange stirring in his belly when their eyes met. Hers were as blue as a summer sky, framed by thick dark lashes and brows. They shot daggers at him, but he hardly noticed, for a sudden a jolt shook him as he realized he’d had no idea how beautiful she was. She was like a perfect little living doll.

Then, he noticed the silken scarf wound about her neck, strange garb for a wedding. “Why are ye wearin’ that?” he asked, pointing to it curiously.

“None of yer business,” she snapped, lifting her chin high. She stood before him, defiant, seemingly unaffected by their tussle, every hair in place, looking startlingly perfect. How that was possible, he had no clue, but it irritated him, for secretly, he felt quite flustered.

“Very well. Let’s get on with this farce then,” he murmured, placing her arm forcibly in his as he shouldered through the chapel doors and practically dragged her up the aisle, ignoring the stares and whispers of the guests. He could not help smirking a little at having foiled her plan to get away. Privately, he found the mortified expression marring her lovely face amusing.

He held her clamped to his side as the reverend spoke the holy words, squeezing her arm each time she hesitated to say her vows. He replied woodenly with his own.

When he made the cut across his own palm and then hers and held them together, mingling their blood, she hissed under her breath, “I’d rather drink yer blood, damn ye.” When they tied the knot, she dug her fingernails viciously into his hand, glaring at him the whole time. Though these small protests did not hurt him at all, he breathed a sigh of relief when the ceremony was over.

“I now pronounce ye man and wife,” the cleric intoned, shutting his bible. “Ye may kiss the bride.”

They turned to face the guests, and Alec bent down to press a kiss to her lips. The next moment, he recoiled in pain, staring at her in shock as he swallowed the warm blood filling his mouth.

The damn lass bit me!

“Ye’ll regret that, ye wee wildcat,” he warned under his breath, shooting daggers at her.

She smiled up at him, every inch the immaculate bride. But the others could not see her eyes gleaming with spite as she whispered back, “’Tis ye who’ll regret marryin’ me, Alec Mackintosh, fer I’m nae a wildcat but a snake, a venomous one at that. And I intend tae poison the rest of yer life if it kills me.”