The laird was pleased by the baron's veracity. He motioned for him to walk with him and started toward the ruins he now called home. Nicholas fell into step beside him.
MacBain's voice was low when he remarked, "So it was you who came up with this clever plan."
"Yes," Nicholas replied. "And just in the breath of time. John was set to marry her to Williams six months ago, but she was able to resist."
"How?"
Nicholas grinned. "She demanded an annulment first."
MacBain's surprise was evident. "Why would she ask for an annulment? Her husband's dead."
"It was a clever stalling tactic," Nicholas explained. "There was a witness to her husband's death, but the body wasn't recovered. My sister told the king she wouldn't marry anyone as long as there was a shred of hope Raulf was still alive. He didn't die in England, you see. He was in a city built on the water, acting as John's envoy when the accident took place. The king wasn't going to be denied, of course, but because he's having so much difficulty with the church these days, he decided to go through proper channels. Johanna just received the papers. The annulment has been granted."
"Who was this witness to her husband's death?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Just curious," MacBain answered. "Do you know?"
"Yes," Nicholas answered. "Williams was the witness."
Gabriel stored that bit of information away in the back of his mind. "Why do you prefer me to the English baron?"
"Williams is a monster, and I cannot abide the thought of my sister being under his control. You were the lesser of two evils. I know you'll treat her well… if she'll have you."
"What nonsense is this? It isn't her decision to make."
"I'm afraid it is," Nicholas said. "Johanna must meet you first and then decide. It was the best I could do. In truth, she wouldn't marry anyone if she could continue to come up with the coins the king demands to stay unmarried. That is what she believes anyway. I know better. The king will marry her off one way or another."
"Your king is a greedy man," MacBain said. "Or is this special punishment designed to gain your sister's cooperation?"
"The tax?" Nicholas asked.
MacBain nodded. "No," Nicholas said. "John can force widows of his tenants in chief to remarry. If they're determined to remain free or to choose their own husbands, well, then they have to pay him a sizable fine each year."
"You mentioned you already paid the fine. You're assuming then that Johanna will find me acceptable?"
Nicholas nodded. "My sister doesn't know I paid the fine, and I would appreciate it if you didn't mention it when you meet her."
MacBain clasped his hands behind his back and went inside. Nicholas followed.
"I must consider this proposal of yours," the laird announced. "The thought of marrying an Englishwoman is hard to stomach, and when you add the fact that she is also your sister, it's almost unthinkable."
Nicholas knew he was being insulted. He didn't mind.
The MacBain had proven his character during the battle against Marshall and his cohorts.
The laird might be a little rough around the edges, but he was also a courageous and honorable man.
"There's something else you should consider before you decide," Nicholas said.
"What is it?"
"Johanna's barren."
MacBain nodded to let Nicholas know he'd heard him but didn't comment on the news for several minutes.
Then he shrugged. "I already have a son."
"Do you mean Alex?"
"Yes."
"I was told at least three men could be his father."
"That is true," MacBain countered. "His mother was a camp follower. She couldn't name the man who fathered Alex. She believed it might be me. She died birthing the boy. I claim him as mine."
"Do any of the other men also claim him?"
"No."
"Johanna can't give you children. Will the fact that Alex is illegitimate matter in future?"
"It will not matter," MacBain announced, his voice hard and unbending. "I'm also illegitimate."
Nicholas laughed. "Do you mean that, when I called you bastard in the heat of battle against Marshall, I wasn't being insulting but truthful?"
MacBain nodded. "I've killed others for calling me that name, Nicholas. Count yourself fortunate."
"You'll be the fortunate one if Johanna decides to marry you."
MacBain shook his head. "I want what rightfully belongs to me. If getting the land means marrying the shrew, I'll do it."
"Why would you believe she's a shrew?" Nicholas asked, puzzled by MacBain's conclusion.
"You've given me sufficient clues to her character," MacBain answered. "She's obviously a stubborn woman because she refused to confide in her brother when asked what information she has against her own king. She needs a man who will control her-those were your words to me, Nicholas, so don't look so surprised-and last, she happens to be barren. She sounds appealing, doesn't she?"
"Aye, she is appealing."
MacBain scoffed. "I don't relish my future as her husband, but you are correct, I will treat her kindly. I imagine we'll find a way to stay out of each other's paths."
The laird poured wine into two silver goblets and handed one to Nicholas. Each raised his drink in a salute and then downed the contents. Nicholas understood proper etiquette in the Highlands. He promptly belched. MacBain nodded approval.
"I suppose this means you'll be coming back here whenever the mood strikes you?"
Nicholas laughed. MacBain sounded damned forlorn over the possibility.
"I'll need several plaids to take back with me," he said then. "You wouldn't want anything to happen to your bride, would you?"
"I'll give you more than a few, Nicholas," MacBain countered. "I want at least thirty men riding escort. Each will wear my colors for protection. You'll dismiss them when you reach Rush Creek. Only you and your sister will be allowed on our land. Is that understood?"
"I was jesting about the plaids, laird. I can take care of my sister."
"You'll do as I order," MacBain commanded.
Nicholas gave in. The laird changed the topic then. "How long was Johanna married?"
"A little over three years. Johanna would like to remain unmarried," Nicholas said. "But my sister's feelings are of no concern to John. He's kept her under lock and key in London. I've only been allowed a short visitation, and John was present all the while. As I told you earlier, my sister's a loose end he wants taken care of, MacBain."
MacBain frowned. Nicholas suddenly smiled. "How does it rub knowing you're the answer to King John's prayer?"
The laird wasn't amused. "I get the land," he remarked. "That is all that matters."
Nicholas's attention was turned when MacBain's giant wolfhound came loping through the entrance. The beast was a fierce-looking thing with a brindle-colored coat and dark eyes. Nicholas thought it weighed almost as much as he did. The hound spotted Nicholas when he rounded the corner and bounded down the steps. He let out a low, menacing growl that made Nicholas's hair stand on end.
MacBain snapped a command in Gaelic. His monstrous pet immediately went to his side.
"A word of advice, MacBain. Hide that ugly gargoyle when I bring Johanna here. She'll take one look at the two of you and turn right around and go back to England."
MacBain laughed. "Mark my words, Nicholas. I won't be denied. She will have me."
Chapter 3
"I won't have him, Nicholas. You must be out of your mind if you think I would even consider becoming his wife."
"Appearances are deceiving, Johanna," her brother countered. "Wait until we're closer. You'll surely notice the kindness in his eyes. MacBain will treat you well."
She shook her head. Her hands were shaking so violently she almost dropped the reins to her mount. She tightened her hold on the leather straps and tried not to gape at the huge warrior… and the monstrous-looking animal leaning against his side.
&nb
sp; They were nearing the courtyard of the desolate holding. The laird stood on the step leading up to the dilapidated keep. He didn't look particularly pleased by the sight of her.
She was sickened by the sight of him. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, then whispered, "What color are his eyes, Nicholas?"
Her brother didn't know.
"You saw kindness in his eyes, yet you didn't notice the color?"
She had him there and they both knew it. "Men don't notice such insignificant things," he defended.
"You told me he was a gentle man with a soft voice and a quick smile. He isn't smiling now, is he, Nicholas?"
"Now, Johanna…"
"You lied to me."
"I did not lie to you," he argued. "MacBain saved my life not once but twice during the battle against Marshall and his men, and he refuses to even acknowledge it. He's a proud man but honorable. You must trust me on this. I wouldn't suggest you marry him unless I was convinced it would be a sound union."
Johanna didn't answer him. Panic was taking hold. Her gaze kept going back and forth between the huge warrior and the ugly beast.
Nicholas thought she was getting ready to faint. His mind raced for some clever thing to say to help her calm down.
"MacBain's the one on the left, Johanna."
She wasn't amused by his jest. "He's a very big man, isn't he?"
Her brother reached over to pat her hand. "He's no bigger than I am," he replied.
She pushed his hand away. She didn't want his comfort. She didn't want him to feel her trembling with cowardly fear either.
"Most wives would wish to have strong husbands to defend them. MacBain's size should be a comfort to you and a mark in his favor."
She shook her head. " 'Tis a mark against him," she announced.
She continued to stare at the laird. He seemed to be growing right before her eyes. The closer she got, the larger he became.
"He's handsome."
She blurted out her opinion in a voice that sounded like an accusation.
"If you think so," Nicholas decided to agree.
"'Tis another mark against him. I don't want to be married to a handsome man."
"You aren't making sense."
"I don't have to make sense. I've decided. I won't have him. Take me home, Nicholas. Now."
Nicholas jerked on the reins to stop her mount, then forced her to look at him. The fear he saw in her eyes made his heart ache. Only he knew the purgatory she'd endured while married to Raulf, and although she wouldn't speak of it, he knew what her real terror was now. His voice was low and fervent when he said, "Listen to me, Johanna. MacBain will never hurt you."
She wasn't certain if she believed him or not. "I would never allow him to hurt me."
The vehemence in her reply made him smile with approval. Raulf hadn't been able to beat the spirit out of her. Nicholas counted that as a blessing.
"Think of all the reasons why you should marry him," he said. "You'll be away from King John and his cohorts, and they won't come here after you. You'll be safe here."
"There is that consideration."
"MacBain hates England and our king."
She nibbled on her lower lip. "That is another sound point in his favor," she admitted.
"This place, as bleak as it now looks, will one day be a paradise, and you'll have helped to rebuild it. You're needed here."
"Yes, I would help to rebuild," she said. "And I do long for warm weather. 'Tis the truth I only agreed to come here because you convinced me the land is much closer to the sun. I don't know why I hadn't realized that before. I must admit not having to wear a heavy cloak more than one month out of the year does have a wonderful appeal. You did say it was odd the weather was so chilly for this time of year."
Good God, he'd forgotten that little lie. Johanna hated the cold and knew absolutely nothing about the Highlands. He'd deliberately deceived her in his attempt to get her safely out of England and now felt guilty as hell. He'd corrupted a man of the cloth, too, for he'd begged Father MacKechnie to go along with the fabrication.
The priest had his own motives for wanting Johanna to marry the MacBain laird and had held his silence each time Johanna mentioned the appeal of such a warm, sunny climate. He had, however, glared at Nicholas whenever the topic came up.
Nicholas let out a sigh. He guessed that when Johanna was knee deep in snow, she'd realize he'd lied to her. Hopefully by then her opinion of MacBain would have softened.
"Will he leave me alone, Nicholas?"
"Yes."
"You didn't tell him anything about my years with Raulf?"
"No, of course not. I wouldn't break my word to you."
She nodded. "And he knows, for certain, I cannot give him children?"
They'd been over that issue at least a dozen times on the journey up the hills. Nicholas didn't know what more he could say to reassure her. "He knows, Johanna."
"Why didn't it matter to him?"
"He wanted the land. He's laird now and has to put his clan above his own concerns. Marrying you was simply a way he could achieve his goal."
It was a cold, honest answer. Johanna nodded. "I'll meet him," she finally agreed. "But I won't promise you I'll marry him, so you can quit your smile right now, Nicholas."
MacBain had grown weary of waiting for his bride to come to him. He started down the steps just as she nudged her mount forward. He still hadn't gotten a proper look at her, as she was completely covered by a black cape and hood. Her smallness, however, surprised him. He'd expected a much larger woman given Nicholas's size.
Her appearance wasn't important to him. The marriage was a practical arrangement, nothing more. He assumed, however, that because she was Nicholas's sister, she would have the same dark coloring and auburn-colored hair.
He was mistaken. Nicholas dismounted first. He tossed the reins to one of the soldiers and went over to Johanna's side to assist her to the ground.
She was a little bit of a thing. The top of her head only reached her brother's shoulders. Nicholas had his hands on her arms and was smiling down at her. It was obvious he cared a great deal about his sister. MacBain thought his brotherly devotion a little overdone.
While Johanna untied the cord holding her cloak together, the soldiers began to line up behind their leader.
The Maclaurin men clumped themselves together behind their laird and to the left of the wide steps while the MacBain warriors lined up behind their leader and on the right side. The six steps were filled with curious men in a matter of seconds. They all wanted to see the laird's bride.
MacBain heard the low grunts of obvious approval a scant second after Johanna removed her cloak and handed it to her brother. MacBain didn't think he made a sound, but he wasn't certain. The sight of her took his breath away.
Nicholas hadn't said a word about her appearance, and MacBain hadn't been interested enough to ask. He now looked at the baron and saw the laughter in his eyes. He knows I'm rattled, he thought to himself. MacBain masked his astonishment and turned his full attention back to the beautiful woman walking toward him.
Lord, she was a bonny lass. Her waist-length blond curls swayed with each step she took. The woman didn't seem to have any flaws. There was a light sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose. He liked that. Her eyes were a vivid shade of blue, her complexion was pure, and her mouth, dear God, her mouth could drive a saint to lustful thoughts. He liked that, too.
Some of the Maclaurin soldiers weren't as disciplined in their reactions as the MacBain was. The two men standing directly behind their laird let out long, low whistles of appreciation. MacBain took exception to their rude behavior, however. He half-turned, lifted each man by his neck, and sent them both flying like cabers over the side of the steps. The other soldiers had to duck to get out of the way.
Johanna came to a quick stop, looked at the soldiers sprawled out on the ground, then looked back at their leader. The laird didn't even seem winded.
"A gentle man?" she whispered to Nicholas. "That was a lie, wasn't it?"
"Give him a chance, Johanna. You owe him and me that much."
She gave her brother a disgruntled look before turning back to the laird.
MacBain took a step forward. His wolfhound came with him and once again leaned against his master's side.
Johanna started praying for enough courage to keep walking. When she was just a foot or two away from the warrior, she stopped and then executed a perfect curtsy.
Her knees were shaking so hard that she was pleased she didn't fall over on her face.
She heard a loud snort and several grunts while her head was bowed. She didn't know if the noises were sounds of approval or censure.
The laird was wearing his plaid. He had extremely muscular legs. She tried not to stare at them.
"Good day, Laird MacBain."
Her voice trembled. She was afraid of him. MacBain wasn't surprised. The sight of him had sent more than one young woman running back to the safety of her father. He'd never considered trying to change their reactions because he hadn't particularly cared.
He was caring now, however. He would never get the woman to marry him if he didn't do something to ease her fear. She kept giving worried glances down at his dog. MacBain assumed the hound also frightened her.
Nicholas wasn't being much help. He just stood there grinning like a simpleton.
MacBain demanded his assistance by glaring at him. He decided he shouldn't have done that when Johanna took a quick step back.
"Does she speak Gaelic?"
MacBain addressed his question to Nicholas. Johanna answered. "I have been studying your language."
She didn't speak in Gaelic when she answered. Her hands were folded together in front of her. The knuckles were white from her hard grip.
Mundane conversation might put her at ease, MacBain decided. "And how long have you been studying our language?"
Her mind went blank. It was his fault, of course. His stare was so intense, unsettling, too, and she couldn't seem to form a thought. Dear God, she couldn't even remember what they were talking about.