Page 29 of A Laird and a Fugitive

She drank this first of all, enjoying the heady feeling that swam within. Her stomach growled and while she was loath to accept this gift from her husband, she wasn’t in a position to turn it down. She only hoped that Nessa and Tara were being fed just as well.

From the first time she had begun thinking about marriage, Caroline had never imagined her wedding day would be like this, spent in isolation. She had imagined her husband to be a strapping man, generous with his time and his affection, basking in the glory of their presence. She had wanted to look towards the future with bright eyes, to wonder at all the great things they might accomplish. Instead, she might as well have been peering into an endless void because there was no hope any longer.

She ate the food in a monotonous manner, for she feared she had disgraced her father’s memory. He had spoken so often about his pride regarding the clan, and as the eldest daughter, she was supposed to carry this responsibility with her. She was supposed to represent the clan’s interests and embody its virtues so that the Gilmour reputation would be enhanced. Instead, this marriage was the first strike against her clan.

It might well be a slow death, especially if a child was necessary. Her hand fell down to rest against her abdomen. Everything inside tightened as she considered the possibility of raising Ryan’s children. Would they be like their father, or would she be able to have sufficient influence to sway their character back to the light? It was all so terrible, and she feared that she would condemn the Highlands to be ruled by cruelty.

And it was her fault for doing something noble and selfless. Even now, even after all of this, she still could not imagine leaving Ryan to be stabbed in the back. Did that make her a naive fool? Was she wrong for trying to fill the world with such earnest intentions?

It wasn’t long before her plate had been emptied. She warmed herself by the fire and thought about the future. Her main agenda had to be Nessa and Tara’s safety. Ryan may not be amenable to suggestions at first, but she hoped that in time he would understand that it was in his best interest to placate her.

It wasn’t as though she were going to make any unreasonable demands. Just to ensure that her sisters were married to honorable people, strong men who could protect them from the new Laird of their clan. It was a shame in some ways that Ryan had not deemed it appropriate to conspire with them. There were moments when she believed there might have been some shred of commonality between them, but she had been mistaken. He was a selfish brute only concerned with satisfying his own desires, not caring about anyone else other than in how they could best serve his needs.

She heard heavy footsteps outside. The key turned in the lock. Ryan’s frame filled the door. He stepped inside the room and closed it behind him. He was still dressed in his wedding garb, the pleated kilt rippling as he walked.

“I see ye enjoyed yer dinner,” he said, immediately moving to the fire.

He stretched out his hands, warming them. He stood with his back to her. His broad shoulders were wide, the trunk of his body narrowing towards his hips. His tight shirt left little to the imagination, and when illuminated by the soft glow of the fire, the angles of his muscles seemed to come alive.

Caroline was perched on the edge of the bed and tried to avert her gaze, but there was some natural instinct that drew her towards the beautiful masculinity of this man. She wondered if it might have been better if he had been ugly, but he had been blessed with a savage purity that sparked something deep inside, something that lay beyond her reach. She would have ripped it out if she had been able to do so.

“I hope ye enjoyed yer day just as much. It’s the only wedding ye are gaeing tae hae. I heard that lasses tend tae dream of this day.”

“It was naething but a nightmare,” she replied.

Ryan angled his head, peering towards her over his shoulder.

“I’m sorry tae hear ye feel that way, lass.” His body turned with the rest of him, and he clasped his hands together in front of his stomach, tilting his head. “I suppose that means things can only improve from here. After all, we hae a lot tae accomplish taegether.”

“The only thing I want tae accomplish is keeping my sisters safe. Where are they?”

“Oh, dinnae ye fret, lass. They are fine. They’ve been fed and watered,” he chuckled darkly.

“I want tae see them.”

Ryan pursed his lips and clucked his tongue.

“I dinnae think that would be appropriate. After all, yer wedding night is meant for yer husband,” he prowled towards her like a panther.

She inched back on the bed, clutching the sheets with a tight grip. Ryan leaned forward. His breath was soaked with wine, and his eyes flashed with intent. Two powerful arms stretched down and pressed into the bed beside her. Caroline’s heart pounded and breath rushed out of her lips. Her skin flushed with heat as this was all happening so suddenly.

“What’s the matter, lass, are ye afraid?” he whispered.

His lips curled into a vicious smirk. Her arms trembled. All she wanted at that moment was to slap him across the face, but she feared the repercussions. She gritted her teeth together and tried to force the fearful tears back.

Ryan leaned forward to the point where his lips were barely an inch away from hers. His warm breath touched hers, and she flinched. Then, he laughed and backed away.

“Dinnae worry, lass, I’m nae gaeing tae force myself on ye. I hae enough for now. Ye are a Knox. Everything else shall follow in time. I will keep yer sisters safe in order tae ensure yer loyalty.”

“This is nae keeping them safe. This is keeping them prisoner! Ye promised tae protect them. Ye are nae honoring our agreement.”

Ryan’s eyes flashed again. “I dinnae need tae honor an agreement with a Gilmour.”

“And how would yer clan feel about that?”

“If ye like, we can march downstairs, and I’ll say this directly tae them. I dinnae think ye realize how people view ye, lass. A Gilmour means naething tae us, nae does their word. Rest well, Lady Knox, and we will speak more about the future taemorrow.”

Before Caroline could say anything else, Ryan left and shut her in the room. Caroline screamed bitterly and pounded the pillow. Even though Ryan had left the room, his presence was overwhelming, and she could not sleep.

But at least she knew her sisters were safe.

The following day, Caroline awoke with a determined zeal. When breakfast was brought to her, she marched towards the door, ignoring the maid and looking towards the guard.

“I am gaeing tae see my sisters,” she announced.

The guard look dumbfounded. “I hae orders tae keep ye here.”

But something Ryan said the previous night had given her an idea. She may have been a prisoner in this Keep, but that was not all she was.

“I am the lady of the clan, aye?” she said, taking hold of the tartan belt that wrapped around her waist.

The guard looked down at it, and then back at her. There was a troubled look on his face.

“Aye,” he agreed reluctantly.

“Then I’m sure ye will agree that as Lady Knox I am afforded certain rights. Ye are under my command.” The guard began to speak, but Caroline raised a hand. “Dinnae worry, I am nae gaeing tae order ye tae dae anything that will displease the Laird. In fact, he may be pleased with ye for escorting me through the Keep. If ye refuse me, then ye will be gaeing against tradition. Take me tae my sisters,” she said with a mask of confidence, not entirely sure it would work.

But the guard wilted, and Caroline enjoyed this small semblance of power she wielded. She had given up a lot for Ryan, but perhaps she had gained enough in return that she could use to her advantage.