Highland Hellion (Highland Weddings #3)(64)

“It was the reasonable choice,” Diocail said.

“Perhaps for ye it was,” Rolfe growled at him. “She is me wife. I am duty bound to protect her, no’ cower behind her. Morton tried to wed her when she was but fourteen. Do ye have any idea what he might plot now that she is woman enough to no’ cause a commotion with his actions?”

“He’ll want to get a good amount for her,” Diocail said. “So it will take him some time.”

“And she played the part well, wrinkling up her nose as if she hated us,” Adwin said. “Morton has no reason to suspect she is no’ happier here.”

“Unless one of his spies has told him of the MacPherson hellion,” Rolfe countered. “He has spies all over the Highlands.” He snorted. “Morton would put her in chains in an instant if he suspected he had need of them to keep his prize.”

All three men went silent with the gravity of the situation.

“In that case”—Diocail stood—“we’d best get on with rescuing the lass.”

*

“She’s tight.”

Katherine felt her cheeks burning as she glared at the physician. The man paid her no mind as he continued to speak with Morton. She knotted the tie around her dressing robe and pulled it tight, but that didn’t remove the feeling of having the man’s hands on her intimate person.

“Perhaps not a virgin; it’s very hard to tell for sure.” He looked over at her. “The mortification proves a certain level of innocence.”

“The prospective groom is only interested in a maiden,” Morton said.

“Give her a knife to cut herself and bloody the sheet,” the physician remarked as though it was far from the first time he’d been called upon to offer such advice. “And impress upon her how dire her circumstances will be if she fails to make the union binding.”

Morton slowly smiled before he nodded and waved the man out of the chamber. That left her alone with him, which made her belly knot with apprehension. Two of his retainers stood nearby, the same two men who had been instructed to hold her down while she was inspected.

The shame was theirs.

She repeated that a few more times, trying to force herself to believe it.

“Ye think I am a monster.”

Katherine turned to look behind her and discovered she was alone with the Earl of Morton. He was a huge man, one who hadn’t allowed himself to run to fat. It was a telling fact that should be noted, because he wasn’t the sort who sat around talking about things he never did with his own hands.

“Scotland was in the grip of a civil war when I took the regency,” he continued. “The Church was split, and the Highlanders, well, they were doing their best to kill each other. If Mary had her way, she’d have taken this country into a holy war, first with our own people and then on to England.”

Still caught in the grip of mortification, Katherine wanted to loathe him, but the truth sliced through her temper. The earl nodded slowly.

“It’s good to see that ye have a bit of sense, madam.” He considered her. There was a way he looked at people that reminded her of Rolfe, so very intense, as though he approached life more seriously than some people. “Ye were a child the last time we met.”

“And yet you considered me ready for marriage.”

“An alliance with England would end two hundred years of wars,” Morton cut back. “Alliances made through marriage. Fate decided that ye would be born with blue blood.”

“So what now?” she asked. “Now that you have had me prodded by your physician, which I suspect was merely to impress upon me how much power you have over me.”

His lips curled up into a grin. “The groom’s family insisted on the physician. I am the one who paid him enough to ensure he will never let it be known he isn’t sure if ye are a virgin.”

“So now,” she said softly, “you are here to impress my circumstances upon me?”

The earl’s grin grew wider. “As a child, ye would have bent to whatever situation I put ye in. Now, though, ye are grown.”

And the earl was attempting to gauge what manner of will she had. It surprised her because it meant the man was not simply dismissing her as an object to be bartered at his whim. No, he was more calculating than that, and she was impressed with his dedication to ending wars. She would be the monster if she failed to recognize the value of that.

“Yes, grown.” She tempered her tone. “Old enough to understand that a good marriage is important.”

It was the sort of thing little girls were taught to say. Even little boys earned such lectures from the Church when they came back from the playhouses with fanciful ideas about wedding the woman of their heart’s delight. Such was fine and good for an afternoon’s entertainment, but not very practical.

“Are ye wed to Rolfe McTavish?”

“I’d be a fool to admit it,” she countered. “You can make a much finer match for me.”

The earl’s grin became menacing. “The Bedfords are rumored to have more money than the queen. It appears ye are yer father’s daughter.”

“I could be.” It was a risk, being so bold.

The earl drew in a stiff breath. “If I made it worthwhile to ye?”

“Nothing quite so…lacking in feminine grace,” Katherine answered.