Page 79 of When A Laird Loves A Lady
“Wear the one ye had on earlier. Gochange.” It was a command, and a hard one. His face had closed, and coldnessradiated from him.
She could not believe howinsensible he was being, simply because he thought her gown immodest, but shewas not going to be ordered about. It was as if she was standing in front ofher father again, desperate to please him and failing, and then being treatedcruelly for no reason. She tilted her chin up. “I’ll not change. This gown ismuch like I saw the Queen of England wear, and she is a modest woman, ifindecency is your worry.”
He’d already looked down at thetrencher in front of him. His head whipped up, and he speared her with a darklook that made her shiver. “Marion,” he said, his voice lower but no lessforceful, “if ye dunnae go willingly to change out of that gown, I’ll throw yeover my shoulder and carry ye up to our bedchamber and change ye myself. And ifI have to do that, ye’ll nae like the consequences.”
She inhaled a sharp breath at theanger rolling off him. What had happened since she’d seen him earlier today?This was not the kind man she had come to know, the man who had given her thespecial dagger and the bow. “You’d haul me away and shame me over a gown?”
“Ye shame yerself by wearingCatriona’s wedding gown.”
A wave of shock slammed intoMarion, making her dizzy. She gripped Angus’s arm tight so that she’d not fall.He looked at her swiftly, worry filling his eyes, but she shook her head at himand prayed he’d not remark on her sudden swaying.
Iain placed his palms flat on thetable as he stared up at her. “How did ye think I’d respond when ye took thegown out of her trunk? I am sorry if ye think I’m being harsh, but ye kinnae—”Pain streaked across his face before a mask of stone descended and she could nolonger read his emotions. “Ye kinnae just wear her gowns,” he finished quietly.
“I didn’t know,” she whispered, hervoice cracking as she struggled to hold back the tears clogging her throat andfilling her eyes. Angry with herself for her weakness, she dashed a hand acrossher eyes. “I did not take this gown out of her trunk inyourbedchamber.It was loaned to me.” Each word trembled as she fought against herself to bestrong, to be cold, not to care. “I would never try to take her place in yourheart,” she choked out, removing her arm from Angus’s grasp. She turned stifflyand walked through the hall, even as Iain demanded she stop, and proceeded backout the way she’d come with her head held high.
She met the gaze of each personstaring at her, and fierce determination not to be cowed burned in her veins.The last gaze she met was Fiona’s, who almost appeared regretful. Marion didn’tbelieve that for a moment.
By the time she reached Iain’sbedchamber, she was shaking. All she knew was that she had to get out of thiscastle. She yanked off Catriona’s gown and hastily put on Bridgette’s. Therewould never be a place in Iain’s heart for her. She’d been foolish to hope forit. If he wanted only memories of Catriona, then that’s what she’d leave forhim. With her heart racing and her hands trembling, she carefully tookCatriona’s gowns out of the trunk and laid them on the bed. She swiped at thetears filling her eyes and then quickly made her way out of the castle and tothe water. She needed fresh air and wanted to be alone.
It was much easier to slip out thanshe had presumed. No guards stood at the doors, for they were all in the greathall with their laird. Moonlight filled the night while white mist swirled inthe damp, cold air. Marion shivered as she climbed down the seagate stairs, herarms wrapped tightly around her waist. The wind blew hard against her tinglingcheeks, making her eyes burn and her lips sting.
When she reached the shoreline, shetook in short tiny gasps of air from the long descent. In the watchtower on theramparts, she could see light flickering, so she stayed in the shadows as muchas possible. She moved toward the water, feeling almost beckoned by the distanthiss of the waves in the air. She wanted to be numb, to think of nothing. Shekicked off her shoes and stood where the water just caressed her toes. Closingher eyes, she breathed deeply and searched for a peace she wondered if shewould ever find.
“Did you discover a way into thecastle where we’ll not be seen?” a deep voice demanded.
Marion’s eyes flew open as herpulse increased. She twisted around to see two men coming from the left, whereIain had been training with his men that morning. Ignoring her racing heart,she dropped to the ground and began crawling over the rough land toward thecave where she and Iain had spoken. As she crawled, the hair comb that Fionahad given her slipped from her hair, her long blond tresses falling over theright side of her face. She could hear the men approaching from behind her asshe reached the tall grass and dove behind it.
“Froste said it needs to be a routeby which at least twenty men could enter before the MacLeods know they areinside,” the man added.
“Why can’t we simply strike fromthe outside?” asked another man. “Why must we try to enter the castle?”
Marion crouched in the tall grass,the roar of her blood filling her ears.
The deep voice spoke again. “Frostesays the MacLeod must die, and we must seize Lady Marion.”
Bile filled Marion’s throat. Frostehad sent men to find a way into the castle so he could kill Iain! It wouldclearly pave the way to marrying her and getting the land and title he socoveted, especially if her father became king.
The men paused very near her. “Doyou not think it’s strange that Froste thinks he needs twenty men to kill one?”
The other man chuckled low. “No.Have you seen the MacLeod?”
“No.”
“Well, I have. I saw him in atournament in England. He’s not human. He fights with the power of a god andthe heart of the devil.”
“Well, then I’ll enjoy killinghim,” the other man replied as they started to move away.
She waited until she felt they werefar enough away that they’d not see her, and then she stood and started to runfor the stairs. But when her slipper caught on a rock, she went down hard,slamming her head against a large stone as she fell.
Eighteen
Iain sat, ignoring the frenzy that had erupted themoment Marion had departed. His anger quickly gave way to guilt. He’doverreacted. There was no way Marion could have known she’d put on Catriona’swedding gown, yet his reason had been subdued by his emotions. Emotions he’dbeen able to keep tightly locked down until now.
“Are ye nae going te go after her?”Angus demanded in harsh, angry undertones.
Iain stared at the archway throughwhich Marion had fled. He was going after her without a doubt, but he’d drawnenough attention to their argument, fool that he was. He’d let the attention ofhis clan turn back to their meals, and then he’d slip out.
He clenched his fists. He neverlost his temper—before Marion came into his life, that was. She made him feeleverything, every damned thing a thousandfold. She was the spark that broughthim to life, but she was also the very thing that threatened to wipe away hismemories of Catriona.
