Bryce sighed and rolled his eyes. The scoundrel was impatient because he considered her a fool who would cheerfully do anything for a coin and a smile. He was wrong about that.
‘I’ve no wish to loiter in this stink hole and explain, Maren,’ he snapped. ‘Suffice to say, I need a wife to take home. I must wed by the end of the year, or my inheritance is in jeopardy, so I need a woman who is comely and clever. Comely, to distract my father from burrowing too deeply into your background. His head has always been turned by a pretty face. And I need clever so that she can carry a ruse. Oh, and she also needs to be desperate, as you, quite clearly, are.’
‘The answer is no. Marriage is slavery, and I will be no man’s slave.’
‘It’s up to you, Maren. You can be my slave or another’s. I learned that a ship leaves for Ireland tomorrow and, from there, onward, to the colonies. You can be shackled aboard and heading for uncomfortably warmer climes and years of back-breaking work until you die of it. Though if you are very lucky, the ship might sink halfway to the Caribbean and spare you that bleak existence.’
‘So soon?’ she cried.
‘Aye, lass.’ Bryce came close and took hold of her shoulders. ‘I would not see you suffer that fate. A choice is before you, Maren. A life of indentured servitude on some fly-blown plantation until a fever claims you, or luxury for a little while, tasting the life of a lady, and then on to freedom and pockets full of coin.’
‘I don’t trust you. How do I know you won’t use me ill?’
‘You don’t, but I swear I will not lay a hand on you that is unwelcome. I don’t want to get skewered like that redcoat.’
Maren shot him a glower and tried to calm herself. Freedom was so close she could taste it.
‘You must take a chance on me, Maren,’ Bryce continued. ‘If you do not, I can assure you that ill-use is a certainty in the colonies. And I must take a chance on you too, lass. I must trust you to keep my secret and play the part of a loving and obedient wife to the hilt.’
‘Surely it would be better to just find some well-bred, rich fool of a lass and marry her. Why tie yourself forever to a woman you barely know who you cannot touch?’
‘Because I have come to an impasse with my father over this matter. I have to put it to rest or at least buy some time. Come on. This is the only course. Say yes, Maren.’
Maren was rooted to the spot. Why must he press her so? She could not think straight, looking at his handsome face and hopeful smile.
‘Say yes, lass,’ he repeated in a voice like silk sliding down her skin. His blue eyes pinned hers. ‘Let us get free of this hellhole, Maren.’
Once she was clear of Balloch jail, she could run from Bryce Cullan, and then he would be the fool, not she.
‘Come lass. We can go right now.’
‘Just like that. I mean….’
‘Aye. Maggot has his bribe, and I have papers stating your exoneration of any and all crimes.’ He patted his jacket pocket. ‘Your choice, but I am going now.’
Maren took a deep breath and nodded a ‘yes’. Bryce grabbed her hand and pulled her along in his wake. To what, she did not know, but it had to be better than Balloch jail.
***
‘Where are we heading?’ asked Maren as she struggled to match his long stride.
‘Inverness, and from there, to my home, Penhallion. It is a great estate. You will enjoy it.’
‘For how long?’
‘As long as it takes to convince the world we have married and then, after a suitable period, you can leave me due to my reprehensible behaviour. I should think a year will suffice.’
‘A year?’ Maren stopped in her tracks, pulling against his grip. ‘I am to tolerate your company for a whole year?’
‘Maybe not so long. Just think of it as a fine adventure, lass. But first, we need to get you clean and into something more suitable than these wretched rags,’ he said, pulling up one side of her bodice where it had fallen off her shoulder. ‘I am not decrying the view, but you have more flesh on show than is ladylike. So let us make haste.’
Maren batted his hand away and remained rooted to the spot. Whilst Bryce could understand her confusion, her reluctance irked him as he was keen to get her safely out of Balloch before Laird MacKellar changed his mind.
‘Why do I need to get all dressed up for some old man?’ she demanded.
‘Old man? Oh, don’t call my father old if you want his approval. He is as vain as me.’
‘If you so despise your father’s command to wed, then why not defy him and have me turn up looking like your whore. I am bought and paid for, am I not?’
