Chapter Eight

Brody was about to explode. His fists were clenched, his nostrils flared, and his face red. Maisie feared what the king would do if Brody lost his temper once more. “Sire,” she blurted out, “might I say a proper, private goodbye to my siblings?”

The king nodded and waved a hand toward a door in the right wall of the chamber they were in. “Ye may do so in my small chambers. I am nae a barbarian, after all,” he added with a chuckle. “Say yer goodbyes to yer brother and yer sister, and I’ll even give ye a moment to bid Buchannan farewell if yer husband dunnae have any true objections.”

Her husband!

The words made her gut burn with anger, but she could do nothing but nod. She made her way past Graeme, trying not to look at him but seeing his smirk all the same. Behind her, footsteps fell, and she let out a breath of relief that Brody was following. Eliza stood by Aidan, and Maisie assumed that she was giving her time alone with Brody first. Maisie entered the king’s elaborate smaller chamber, taking in the plush surroundings without much care. When the door closed behind her with a soft thud, she turned to face her brother. She didn’t even have a chance to consider what she really wanted to say before he stepped to her and clasped her upper arms.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice pinched and his faced lined with concern. “I doubt we have much time. ’Tis quite obvious the king’s favor lies with the Stewarts.”

“Aye,” she agreed, worrying her lip.

“Keep yer ears open for any leads the Stewarts might acquire regarding Bernard. I’ll be sending Eliza to ye shortly, under the guise of missing ye, and ye can pass the information to her so that she can bring it back to me.”

There were multiple things about her brother’s words that bothered her, but she picked through them as fast as she could to decide which to address, because time was surely limited. “Are ye asking me to eavesdrop?”

“Aye, Maisie, ye dunnae have to sound so outraged about it!”

“I am outraged!” she bit out. “Nae only did ye imply Eliza would nae miss me, but ye did nae even say a single word about my welfare, my fears, or what may happen to me! Yer concern seems to be just for ye!”

“Ye should ken better than that, sister. The Stewarts are trying to prove I am a traitor just like Da. And if they prove that, dunnae ye think they’ll come for ye and Eliza next? If I’ve been a traitor all this time, dunnae ye think they will attempt to convince the king that my two sisters kenned I was a traitor?”

Fear knotted in her belly, and she slowly nodded. Brody’s face softened. “I’m worried about ye. Of course I am. But I’m more concerned about ensuring we all keep our heads. I kinnae let them get to Bernard or the monks first, because I fear they’ll kill whoever they find and claim they confessed my guilt, and presently, I’d nae put it past the king to simply take their word and behead the lot of us.”

Her hand fluttered to her neck, and behind her, the door squeaked as someone opened it.

“Aidan,” Brody said.

She glanced over her shoulder to find the door ajar and Aidan walking toward them. “Yer sister agreed to let me be next to say goodbye.”

Brody nodded, stepped to her, and gathered her in a fierce hug. “Dunnae forget what I told ye.”

“I will nay,” she said, fighting back tears as Brody broke the embrace and moved past her, shutting the door softly behind him. But within a breath, it was opened again, and there stood Graeme, looking bored. “The king requires the chamber door be ajar while ye are saying goodbye to yer love.”

She scowled at him. She could see, from the smile he fought, that he was enjoying her misery. The man had probably never been in love in his life. That thought made her brows dip. Of course he had never been in love. He’d been in captivity all his life because of her father’s ill deeds. Her head suddenly ached so terribly she felt she might toss up the little bit of food in her belly. She felt horrid for what he’d endured at her father’s hands. She even understood his need for vengeance, but it was misplaced. It was not her doing, nor Brody’s, that landed him in that abbey, and Brody had not broken the betrothal with Graeme’s sister. Sorcha Stewart had done that!

It was pointless to say any of that now. Graeme’s set jaw and narrowed gaze told her he was not ready to listen. “Does he require ye to stand here gaping at me as well?” she demanded, her own ire and helplessness rising.

“Nay, lass,” he said, the two words drawn out. “But I dunnae want any quick beddings in here, and then when yer belly is round, ye try to claim it’s mine to trap me into wedding ye.”

“Dunnae fash yerself,” she hissed. “I’d rather a fire poker to the belly than be wed to ye.”

“Excellent. I’m glad we are of a like mind,” he said, turning to go.

She let him, though she wanted to bellow after him that it was likely the only thing they’d agree on, but she knew time was very short. When he was out of sight, she turned back to Aidan, who’d stood quietly during the exchange. He stepped toward her and pressed his hands to either side of her cheeks. She started to glance over her shoulder to see if they were being watched, but he held her face in place.

“I dunnae care who sees,” he declared. “I dunnae care if the king sends men in here to drag me from ye.” Now this was more like the passion she’d hoped to have between them. “Ye are to be my wife! I’ve already negotiated the dowry with yer brother, and I’ll nae lose it to the likes of Graeme Campbell.”

Her hopes crashed down like waves around her, tugging her spirits low. She shoved his hands from her face and stepped back to put space between them. “Ye mean ye’ll nae lose me to the likes of Graeme Stewart, aye? ’Tis me ye want, aye, and nae my dowry?” She studied him, waiting.

His lips parted with what appeared to be surprise, and he shook his head. “God, Maisie, I’m sorry for how that sounded. Of course, I wish for ye. I—”

A knock came at the cracked door. “’Tis Eliza. The king commands ye both to return.”

Maisie’s throat tightened as she stared at Aidan. She didn’t know what to think, and he must have seen the confusion on her face. He closed the distance between them and crushed his lips to hers. Passion didn’t stir, but with everything going on around them, she certainly wasn’t surprised. The kiss was over before she knew it, and he pressed his lips close to her ear and whispered, “I’ve a plan, dunnae fash. I’ll nae leave ye in his clutches.”

The door was thrown open, and there stood the devil himself. A slow smirk quirked up the corners of his mouth as he took them in. “Come along, Wife,” he said, stepping forward and taking her by the elbow, not giving her time to reply. “Yer priest forgot an important part of the handfasting ceremony.”

“What?” she demanded as she was propelled through the door of the antechamber and into the main one.

He paused just inside the door and looked down at her. There was an arrogant glint in the depths of his green eyes that she didn’t care for. “It seems we must seal the handfast with a kiss.”

“Ye lie!” she blurted, her cheeks heating.

“I can assure ye, lass, I’m nae lying. I dunnae wish to kiss ye any more than ye wish for me to.”

“Be that as it may,” the king called out, making Maisie jump, “bring yer persons here, stand in front of the good father, and seal the handfasting.”

With little choice but to obey, Maisie strode toward the priest, determined not to fret over the idea of kissing Graeme. It did give her pause, but not because she feared him or worried at all that she’d desire him. The prospect of the impending kiss unsettled her because she suspected the barbarian got a secret pleasure from taking a kiss in front of the man she intended to wed.

“Face each other again,” Father Ollie said, “and repeat after me.”

“I, Graeme Stewart, take ye in body, blood, and soul. I offer this kiss as a vow to guard ye with my life always and honor our covenant forever.”

As Graeme started to repeat the vows, Maisie snorted. She couldn’t help it. The idea that this man would give his life for hers and honor this temporary covenant was ludicrous. Graeme glanced at her with surprise, and then, for an instant, his gaze sharpened as he studied her with a curious intensity that sent the heat in her cheeks to her neck and chest. She looked away and toward Father Ollie so Graeme would not know he was making her uncomfortable.

When he was done speaking, Father Ollie smiled kindly at her. “Repeat after me, lass.” She nodded and then listened to what she was supposed to say. “I, Maisie Campbell, take ye in body, blood, and soul. I accept yer kiss as my lord and master—” She gasped at that, which caused Graeme to chuckle, and the heat that had been confined to her face, chest, and neck swept through her entire body.

“Father, must I say that?”

“Aye, lass. Ye’re the woman, and he’s yer master.”

Her cheeks were on fire, and when her eyes met Graeme’s, she was surprised by the sympathetic look he gave her. “Father,” he said loudly, looking directly at Father Ollie. “I’ve been ruled by another before, and I’d nae wish it upon anyone, enemy or nae. So if it is all the same to ye, she can leave off the ‘lord and master’ part.”

Gratitude rushed through her toward Graeme, and she would have thanked him, but Father Ollie spoke.

“I suppose—”

“Excellent!” Graeme said to Father Ollie. Then looking at Maisie, he said, “If ye dunnae mind getting on with it, I’d just as soon be done with the task.”

Now a surge of irritation filled her. Honestly, she’d never experienced such rollicking emotions in her life! She spit out her vows and said, “There! Are ye satisfied?”

“Aye,” he replied, and before she knew what was happening, the man stepped forward, clasped her body so tightly to his own that every hard inch of him pressed to every soft part of her. The shocking contact escalated her heartbeat until she heard it in her ears. His arms encircled her with one hand at the small of her back and the other at her face. His warm fingertips glided up her cheekbone and delved into her hair to cradle the back of her head. It was the most intimate touch she’d ever experienced, and it oddly sent a tingle through her. He tilted her head back just a bit, and her eyelashes fluttered shut as his mouth came over hers in a kiss that seemed more claiming than duty. His warm lips moved with persuasive intensity over her mouth and sent a path of fire through her. Her breath hitched, her belly tightened, and heat pooled between her legs as he devoured her mouth.

When he broke the kiss, her thoughts were spinning, her heart hammering, and her blood raced through her veins. She stared at him, unable to form words and half fearing her legs would give out. As Aidan cleared his throat to the right of her, she was acutely aware that his kiss had not affected her as this man’s had. Her stomach turned at the implication as Graeme leaned toward her, pushed her hair back from her ear, and pressed his lips close to whisper, “Gather yer wits, Wife, so ye dunnae fall off yer horse when we ride. We depart now. ”