The Devil in Plaid(25)

Chapter Fifteen


Jamie slammed the door shut. He couldn’t ever remember being so angry. He turned to the guard. “Ignore her cries, and under no circumstance will ye open this door without orders from me. I do not trust her to not lie her way out of here. I will cancel the bath I ordered for her, and she ate well enough this morning. She will not perish, if she misses a meal. Perhaps, hunger will teach her some compassion.”

He stormed down the hallway, reflecting on what he’d been doing when he was pulled away so suddenly. He had been in the solar imparting news of Grant’s death to his parents. When the guard arrived to report his betrothed’s attempt to run away, Grant’s mother had been sobbing in his arms. Knowing that Niall and Grant lost their lives trying to protect his reluctant bride made his fury grow ten-fold. He could not have regretted his decision to make an alliance with Clan MacDonnell more. Despite having to cross MacKenzie territory to do so, he should have taken his bid to Clan Ross or the Sutherlands, promising them whatever it took for their aid.

He couldn’t stomach the idea of binding himself to a woman of such little honor that she would seek to run from her father’s promise—especially when both clans faced such difficult times. Theirs was not a simple union to bring an end to an old fued. They had come together to save their people. Clearly, she cared nothing for her people or anyone else but herself. One night spent hungry with only a simple pallet to sleep on might go a long way to humble his spoiled bride.

What he would give to face Ranulf MacKenzie right at that moment while fury boiled in his blood. He thundered down the stairs to his solar and paced the room, trying to stay focused on what still had to be done.

Matthew soon joined him. “What would ye have me do next, my laird.”

At least, his betrothal had not been entirely in vain. It was the necessary evil to gain the support of his kin on the Isles of Harris and Raasay. “Send messages to my cousins, informing them of our alliance.”

“Consider it done, my laird,” Matthew replied. He started to turn toward the door but paused before turning back to face Jamie. “May I inquire after the Lady MacDonnell?”

Jamie’s body tensed. “She came at me with a poker. Truly! She’s mad, I tell ye. She was behaving as if we’d kidnapped her and threatened her very life.”

Matthew rubbed the back of his neck. “Are ye certain her father agreed to the match?”

“I’m not daft, Matthew!”

“I meant no offense. I’m just trying to make sense of it all. I could understand if she was angry—especially with ye smelling like ye do—but ye make it sound as if she’s afraid.”

Jamie threw his hands up. “She was probably just furious about the plainness of her chambers, not to mention having to wait an hour for her bath. I will not stand for such tirades, not when there are real challenges facing our people.” He stopped and expelled a long breath. Shaking his head, he looked at Matthew. “I feel like I have failed ye, failed everyone. I had hoped to marry a lady fit for these halls, a lady who would help raise my people high. Now, at best, I can only hope that she keeps to her room.”

A smile curved Matthew’s lips. “Ye could also make more of an effort. I’ve ordered ye a bath after the evening meal.”

Jamie shook his head. “Cancel it. Let her believe I am nothing more than an uncouth savage.”

Brows draw, Matthew put his hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “Why don’t ye go for a ride to clear yer head. I will fetch her for the evening meal, sparing ye the task.”

“Nay, she must understand that I do not tolerate such behavior.”

Matthew raised a brow at him. “What exactly have ye done?”

“I’ve locked her in the maid’s antechamber.”

“My Laird—”

“She is lucky I did not stick her in the dungeon.”

“As true as that may be, I caution ye, my laird. To insult Lady MacDonnell in such a public way may undo all ye have sought with this alliance. Take care or else ye’ll force the hand of the MacDonnell against ye.”

“I care not if our feud with the MacDonnell is not truly put to rest with this marriage. He has no choice but to combine his forces with ours or perish beneath the might of the MacKenzie.”

“My laird,” Matthew said pointedly.

But Jamie raised his hand to silence him. “I will hear no more on this subject. If ye only knew what I wanted to do to the so-called lady upstairs, then ye would at least give me some credit. I very nearly took her over my knee and tanned her backside.”

“It would be within yer husbandly rights,” Matthew pointed out.

Jamie shook his head. “I’ve never laid a hand on a woman before, and I don’t intend to start now—despite how she might drive me to it.” His shoulders relaxed. He once again expelled a deep breath. “Despite my dirty hair and beard, I’m not actually the savage I am letting her believe I am.”





Chapter Sixteen


Fiona lay in the darkness, her mouth dry. The shooting pains in her wrists and hands had faded to numbness. She had no more tears to cry. When the door opened, and light filtered into the small room, she knew not the hour. A man entered, the MacLeod plaid skimming his knees as he walked toward her. She slowly looked up. It took a moment for his face to come into focus. She had not seen him before, but it was not his face that forced her eyes to open beyond mere slits. It was the tray in his hands. Without a word, he set it down at her feet.