Page 43 of In Bed with a Scot

“I am sorry,” Isabelle lifted her head up to give him a sympathetic look. “Did ye wish tae wed her, tae make her yer wife?”

Madden nodded. “Aye, I did. I went tae her home tae propose tae her. Her husband answered the door. That is how I discovered that she was already wed tae another.”

“Such a discovery had tae have been heartbreaking.”

“Aye, it was, but I now realize that it was nae as bad as I thought it was.” He paused to kiss her forehead once more.

“What did ye dae?”

“There was nae much that I could dae. I walked away. I remained by me maither’s side throughout her illness, but soon after I discovered the truth, she died. I was destroyed and was nae good fer anything. So, as I told ye when we met, I resorted tae fighting and drinking and women.”

Isabelle nodded in understanding. “I cannae blame ye fer that. When did ye decide tae return tae Scotland?”

“It took me a few years. I could nae come back tae me life here with how I was feeling. I was destructive tae myself and tae others. It took nearly dying fer me tae see sense and tae return home. That was a little over a year ago.”

“I am sorry that that happened tae ye. I am glad that ye did come home, otherwise we would never have met. Ye ken that I am nae like that woman in France? I would never be unfaithful tae ye.”

“Aye, I ken that ye are nae the same as she was. I didnae ken the difference before, but I dae now. I love ye, Isabelle.”

“I love ye, Madden Kinnaird, and I always will.”

Madden kissed her on the lips, softly, tenderly, sweetly. “I dinnae care what God, the king, the church, the law, or any other man has tae say about it. Ye are mine, and mine alone.”

Isabelle smiled up at him with tears in her eyes. “I am yers and yers alone.”

Madden sat up, pulling her up with him. Pulling a ring from his little finger, he took her hand in his and placed it upon her finger. “This was me maither’s ring. Me faither gave it tae her on the day that they were wed. Me maither gave it tae me on the day that she died and told me tae give it tae the lass that I would spend the rest of me life with. I choose tae give it tae ye. I may nae be allowed tae lawfully wed ye, but in me heart ye are now and always will be me wife.”

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Isabelle reached up and removed her mother’s necklace from around her neck. Reaching up, she placed it around Madden’s neck. “And ye are now and always will be me true husband.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Madden was on the training field sparring with the other able-bodied men of the clan, when Bain Sutherland joined then. “Ye dae well against these young pups, but how dae ye fair in battle with a man of experience? Are ye worthy of the reputation that has been given tae ye?”

Madden would have liked nothing more than to run the man through right there in the field for everything that he had done to Isabelle, but for her sake he stayed his hand. He could not protect her if he was strung up for murdering her laird husband. “I dae well enough.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” Bain snorted. He drew his blade from its scabbard. “Face me.”

Madden shook his head. “Are ye certain that ye wish tae face a man of half yer years?”

Bain laughed. “Dae I frighten ye, laddie?”

Madden shook his head. “Nae, I only felt it best tae give ye an out afore we started.”

“I dinnae need an out. Face me, coward.”

Madden clenched his teeth to keep from saying something that he should not. He did not believe that angering Bain was a wise thing to do when that anger might be turned back onto Isabelle. “Very well, if that is what ye wish,” agreed to the fight against his better judgement. He could not rightly refuse him as a laird without causing even more anger. There was no way in which to avoid the situation.

Madden and Bain faced off against each other. They circled each other, testing the other’s reflexes. Bain was faster than Madden would have guessed from his age and size. Once they had gauged the metal of the other, they began to fight. What should have been a gentlemanly spar between two warriors was more like a melee. Both men hated each other with a passion that showed in every blow. Both men were strong, skilled warriors. It was not a brief or pleasant fight. Madden fought more to fend off Bain’s mad attacks, than to fight back. He wanted more than anything to kill the beast where he stood, but he held himself back, not allowing his blood lust to get her better of him. Isabelle’s protection had to take priority and even if Bain was dead, she would still be at the mercy of Sutherland’s man Athol.

Bain, sensing that he had an advantage, lunged forward with a thrust that might have killed a lesser man. Fortunately, Madden was able to sidestep Bain’s blade, but the metal caught on his shirt, ripping it from his body. He stood there bare chested, as Bain stared at the necklace hanging from Madden’s neck. In a fit of rage, Bain roared and charged at Madden. Madden brought his sword up in time and caught the blade. Bain leaned in close as their swords slid together. “Stay away from me wife or I will gut ye and turn yer innards intae haggis,” he hissed, then punched Madden square in the face.

Bain, fueled by rage, stormed into the stables where he had arranged previously to meet Athol. He burst through the doors, causing them to slam against the side of the building. “Me laird?” Athol looked up in question.

“The plan has changed,” Bain barked angrily.

“What? Why?”

Bain raised his hand, waving away Athol’s concern. “We are still going tae kill Arran, but now we will also be killing Madden Kinnaird. The arseling has been with me wife and fer that he must die, as must she.”