Page 49 of The Wrong Bride
“Someday, perhaps. If ye’re good.”
“Do not treat me like a child, McCallum.”
“Do not try to run away from your responsibilities.”
He saw the fierce defensiveness come over her, and then the way she corralled it and remained silent. He knew that was difficult for her—just as he knew she was desperate to escape the castle, even if it had to be with him.
CHAPTER 13
On the sloping path to the village for the two-hour journey, Riona rode between Hugh and Samuel, and said little to either of them. She was still annoyed that Samuel made her feel conflicted, both upset he’d been part of her kidnapping and chagrined that he treated her gently. She didn’t want to like him, but he seemed a good man, loyal to his chief.
As for Hugh, she was still having difficulty meeting his eyes. It would have been easier if he was his impassive self, but the more intimate time they spent together, the more it showed in his eyes when he looked at her. And she was succumbing to the lure of his desire for her. She was already a fallen woman, having been taken away by a man and having spent weeks in his company, and now nights within his rooms. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t gone with him willingly. But she had to focuson remaining true to herself, to make the best of her life. She couldn’t marry him and she wouldn’t become his mistress. All she had was her promise to herself to leave this place someday. Finding out about the surrounding countryside would help when she finally made her way out of here. Because when Hugh and the clan found out the truth . . .
Not that she knew when that might happen. Her conversation with Dermot had been disappointing, although she wasn’t sure what she’d expected. He was a man, the tanist to his chief. She was simply a woman the chief meant to marry. They hadn’t spoken long, and Dermot had made it very clear that her attempts to engage him in conversation were keeping him fromrealwork. Trying to get to know him had only made her feel like a silly decoration hung about the castle. Women certainly had much to contribute to the running of such an immense and complicated household, but apparently he didn’t see it that way. She was offended on behalf of Mrs. Wallace and Cat, the woman who should be mistress at Larig someday.
Not that she was giving up using him to reach Hugh. Dermot had just made it clear it would be harder than she’d thought.
Upon reaching the path that ran along Loch Voil, they turned east and walked their horses along the water. In the glen at the end of the lake, she now could see the small village, with its tiny churchand graveyard with a half wall all around it. Several dozen stone cottages surrounded it, topped by thatched roofs above and surrounded by small gardens and fields of long green stalks of oats beyond. In the center was a triangular village green, where several cows now roamed free.
There were men lounging outside their cottages, sharpening weapons as they talked to each other. Women worked in their gardens or stirred huge boiling cauldrons of laundry over fire pits outside. Children ran and shouted, tossing hoops back and forth.
But everyone stopped what they were doing when they saw Hugh, Samuel, and Riona arrive. Their expressions ranged from wariness to outright skepticism as Hugh approached, but most changed those into impassive or pleasant nods. It had been ten years since Hugh had caused a scandal with Agnes, the girl who was long dead. It didn’t seem as if people had forgotten, but then this had been Agnes’s village, and Brendan came home here every night.
“There don’t seem to be any merchants in a village this size,” Riona said as they reached the green.
“Did ye expect a milliner?” Hugh asked lightly. “Even Edinburgh only has one.”
She inhaled on a faint gasp. “In truth?”
Hugh and Samuel exchanged an amused glance.
“In truth,” Hugh replied. “Tailors and cobblerswander from village to village for a week here and there until the work is done, and then they move on.”
“But we do manage to have an alehouse for the occasional traveler,” Samuel said with satisfaction.
“Or hardworking clansman,” Hugh said.
He slid from his horse and came to her side. To her surprise, he lifted her knee from the pommel of the sidesaddle, put his hands to her waist, and set her on the ground. She told herself he was putting on a show.
The alehouse had obviously been someone’s two-room cottage at one time, but now the front room had a bar, tables with benches, as well as a wooden settle before the fireplace for the occasional private conversations. Behind the bar was another room, probably for storage. Hugh dwarfed the small room. His head almost touched the rafters, and he’d had to duck several hanging cheeses.
A man dressed in shirtsleeves, waistcoat, and breeches emerged from the back room, an apron at his waist. He was thin, not much more than thirty, with a neat beard and mustache. “How can I help ye fine folks?”
And then he stopped, truly seeing Hugh for the first time.
“Hugh McCallum.” The man breathed the name as if in shock. “I’d heard ye were back, of course, but—God, ye look good.”
“Donald Ross,” Hugh said, a rare grin splitting his face.
The two men hugged hard, clapping each other’s backs. Riona watched in amazement, for no one had given Hugh this kind of welcome yet. Several men at another table watched the reunion, and she wondered if they would spread word that their chief was not a man to be wary of.
“Sit down, sit down,” Donald said, gesturing to a clean table where a lantern dispelled the gloom. “Let me bring ale for ye strapping men, and for the lady?”
“’Tis my betrothed, Lady Catriona Duff,” Hugh said. “She’ll take a goblet of your best wine.”
The pride in his voice was like a knife prick to her heart. He was proud, perhaps of her looks—which wasn’t truly her, deep down—but definitely most proud of the money she was supposed to bring to the clan. The money Cat was supposed to bring, she reminded herself. Her own dowry was much smaller and would disappoint many.
The ale keeper lifted her hand with the gesture of a courtier and kissed the back of it. “Lady Catriona, a pleasure to meet ye. I know your betrothed from when we took a degree in master of arts at university together in Edinburgh.”
