Page 2 of A Highland Bride Forgotten
River’s heartbeat came to a sudden halt, then stuttered back to life. She glanced at her mother, but she would not spare her a single look. Her eyes were on the Laird, assessing him, weighing him up once more.
No sooner had the Laird spoken than he grabbed River and swept her off her feet. Suddenly, she was in the air, held by theLaird with one arm under her knees and the other around her shoulders, and she couldn’t help the yelp that escaped her at the sudden change in motion. Instantly, her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and she had to fight the urge to hide her face from the crowd—to show any weakness.
Everyone around them cheered and roared as if it was a joyous moment. Their Laird was to take his new bride to their marriage bed.
River supposed she had to feel joy, too, but all she could manage was a cold, heavy dread that settled in her stomach. Dread, along with another, less familiar feeling—a strange fluttering to her stomach that had nothing to do with fear.
Nay...he may wear a mask, but that doesnae mean he is an evil man. Perhaps he is only guarded. Perhaps he is only hidin’ a more...vulnerable side.
One day, she would find out. There would be no avoiding the real man behind the charm and the tricks. All she could hope for was that her fear was baseless.
With a final swirl that had River clutching at the Laird’s shoulders and a final smile to the people behind him, Laird O’Douglas carried River out of the warmth and ruckus of the great hall and into the chill of the hallway, towards the staircase that led to the bedrooms.
And just like that, the smile was gone.
The walk up to the laird’s chambers was silent, but Laird O’Douglas didn’t put her down—not until they were behind closed doors. He released her gently, yet firmly, taking several steps back from River once her feet were safely on the floor, and suddenly, the chill of the air hit the bare skin of her neck and arms.
A part of her couldn’t help but miss the warmth of his body. A part of her couldn’t help but wish her husband would want her as she is, without tricks, without the need to charm him.
The room around her was grand, a sprawling space with a door that opened to the bedchamber. The same intricate tapestries, depicting scenes of a hunt in rich greens and reds, spread across the two rooms, and books were strewn all over the place—some of them laying open with their pages down, as if the Laird didn’t want to lose his place in them. A desk sat under a window, its surface filled with maps and papers scribbled with ink. A roaring fire burned in both fireplaces—the one in the front chamber and the one in the bedchamber, where the bed, large and donned in furs, loomed like a shadow.
Laird O’Douglas didn’t spare her another glance as he walked around the room and began to shed the festive garments he wore. River watched him as he tossed everything carelessly on the floor and a nearby chair, the thick, midnight blue wool bunching up in a messy pile, until he was down to his shirt and trews.
“Is this the real ye, then?” River asked, never one to shy away from demanding answers. “Or is it simply that ye have nae wish to charm me, specifically?”
A short, sudden snort escaped Laird O’Douglas, as if he found River’s words amusing, and she didn’t know whether that was a good thing or not. He turned to look at her, leaning against the edge of a dark, intricately carved dresser that stood at the far end of the room.
“Do ye want me to charm ye?”
What a question!
“O-of course nae!” River exclaimed, heat crawling all the way up to her ears. She could only hope that in the dim light of the candles and the fire, Laird O’Douglas couldn’t see her reddened face, but she supposed her stutter gave her away regardless. “What a ridiculous question! Why would I want to be charmed?”
“Ye tell me,” said Laird O’Douglas. “Ye’re the one who brought it up.”
“I didnae mean it like that! Obviously!”
“It wasnae so very obvious to me,” said Laird O’Douglas, raising a curious eyebrow. “It seemed to me like ye were askin’ to be charmed.”
Blood rushed to River’s face once more and she had to grit her teeth to stop herself from screaming out in frustration. Laird O’Douglas had never seemed so infuriating to her before, but then again, they had never been left alone in the past. This was the first time she was alone with him, in a room with no one else around to hear them, and the man clearly enjoyed riling her up.
“I would appreciate it if ye didnae tease me,” River said, after mustering all the courage and firmness she could. It was no easy task, demanding things from a man like the Laird. He looked like he always got what he wanted—if not through persuasion, then through force.
“I have nae desire to tease ye,” said the Laird, and that mask that seemed to have slipped for just a moment was now back up, concealing him completely from her eyes. “Listen, Miss Burnett?—”
“Lady O’Douglas,” said River.
“What?”
“I’m nae Miss Burnett anymore,” she reminded him. “We are wedded.”
For a long time, Laird O’Douglas didn’t speak, and River couldn’t help but wonder if she had said something wrong—something terribly insulting.
“Correct,” said Laird O’Douglas in the end. “Lady O’Douglas, then?—”
“River,” she said. “Ye can call me River.”
“River,” said the Laird, and a shiver ran down her spine at the sound of her name from his lips. His baritone voice reverberated through her like the ring of a church bell. “Ye’re me wife now and I have nae intention of lyin’ to me wife. The only reason for this marriage is the alliance between our clans. Ye must understand...I have certain goals I wish το achieve and I cannae let anythin’ or anyone stand in the way of that.”
