So that was Jasper Cullan, the man she was to deceive. He was an imposing man indeed.
‘I have been locked in jail, Father,’ said Bryce, with no hint of shame.
‘Say what?’ boomed the man who must be Fergal McMullan.
‘Locked in jail, I was, Fergal. For my many sins,’ said Bryce.
The bonnie lass pursed her lips. It seemed she didn’t like hearing that at all.
‘Why in God’s name were you in jail?’ said Jasper Cullan through gritted teeth.
‘Drunken brawling with a redcoat officer, Father,’ replied Bryce.
His father frowned down at the young lady. ‘Clara, I must apologise for my son’s rudeness in declaring such a transgression.’
She merely bowed her head and gave Jasper a little smile. The surface of that pond did not show the slightest ripple of discomfort.
Jasper turned to his son. ‘This redcoat. Did you knock him down?’
‘Aye.’
‘Did he stay down?’
‘Aye, broke his jaw and beat him to a pulp.’
‘Good.’
Clara gasped and stared at Jasper Cullan in horror.
‘Aye, Father, I was locked up, but I managed to free myself, and here I am, back in the bosom of my family and completely exonerated,’ said Bryce. ‘And there is even better news. Music to your ears, in fact, for it is with great pleasure that I introduce Mistress Maren Cullan. This fine young lady here is now my wife.’
Clara’s perfect face fell to her toes, and Maren felt an unexpected flutter of satisfaction.
Chapter Eleven
‘My dear, please be seated before the fire and take a dram, for you look quite chill,’ said Jasper Cullan.
‘I am indeed. It has been a most arduous journey,’ said Maren with a gentle smile.
So far, his father had been a picture of graciousness to the stranger who had been declared to be his son’s wife. It was all bizarre. Clara and Fergal had taken their leave with great haste, which was a blessing as Bryce did not like those calm blue eyes on Maren one bit. Though the lass was certainly holding her own with his father.
‘Here you are,’ said Jasper, handing her a brandy. Maren quickly brought it to her lips, caught his eye, and stopped short of gulping it down. Instead, she took a little sip, like a kitten with a bowl of milk, and Bryce heaved a sigh of relief.
‘I thank you, Laird Cullan,’ she said sweetly. ‘And pray forgive us rushing into your company without announcing our coming.’ Maren put her hand on her heart. ‘My husband was in great haste to bring me home to Penhallion and would not be delayed in his intentions.’ She fluttered her eyelashes in a most becoming and helpless manner.
Jasper smiled. ‘He appears to have been in great haste to wed, too, my dear, seeing as it was a mere few weeks ago that he declared to me that he never would.’
‘Did he?’ she said in a high, tinkling voice and with a shy smile at his father. Maren was slightly overdoing the ingénue act.
‘Aye. Is it not amazing how fortunes can change?’ said Bryce.
Jasper turned to Bryce. ‘Amazing. Aye, that is the word for it. But was it really necessary to barge in here and announce your wedding before the McMullans?’
‘Why not? I am wed, and vastly happy about it, too. No point in hiding it. If that didn’t put Clara’s hopes to bed, nothing will.’
Maren gave him a cutting glance which he hoped was jealousy. Bryce took up her hand and kissed it tenderly. ‘This lass is my saviour and my love.’
‘You must forgive my husband’s ardour,’ she said, blushing furiously. She seemed to be able to conjure the pink glow on a whim.
