Page 7 of Taken By the Savage Highlander

I did not think that I would be married in a filthy gown to a man like him.

Her breath caught when the minister draped the tartan ribbon over their hands. His fingers were deft, binding the two of them together as he had surely done with countless other couples before. Margo could not help but feel a twinge of bitterness. Those couples likely both agreed to a wedding.

Those couples knew they were entering a marriage.

“Ye are now bound together as long as ye both shall live,” the minister said as he finished tying the ribbon. “Before God and these witnesses, ye are wed.”

So quickly that she could do nothing but obey, Laird MacLeod pulled her forward. Their lips met in a brief press. His mouth was surprisingly warm, his lips chapped. She barely had time to close her eyes when he abruptly let go of her.

“I present to ye to Laird and Lady MacLeod,” the minister said as Margo’s mind was still reeling.

The congregation clapped, a polite sound that felt like funeral bells rather than wedding hymns. Desperately, she tried to force her mind to work. She saw the faces of the crowd in flashes, heard the drone of polite well-wishes, and felt the Laird’s, her husband’s, hand around hers.

Oh, how she resented the fact that he was the only thing anchoring her to the ground.

“Where are we going?”

They were nearly to Cameron’s study when Margo finally found her voice once more. He almost regretted he gave her no warning about the ceremony. The shock she’d experienced seemed even more intense than when he’d pulled her out of the carriage on their first night together.

She would have fought me if she kent.

“Me study,” he grunted, reaching for the ribbon binding them and unraveling it.

Before he could drop the strip of fabric to the ground, Margo snatched it. Pulling her hand back, she tucked the ribbon away. Her stride never broke, her chin lifted high as if to say that she was choosing to walk with him.

As long as she’s nae makin’ a fuss.

The door was open when they reached the room. Cameron’s man-at-arms, Gavin, was sitting at the desk. In front of him were several sheets of parchment. A quill hung from between his fingers, a pot of ink to his left. Slowly, he raised his eyes from the pages.

“The papers are ready, Me Laird,” Gavin said, placing the quill to the side and rising to his feet.

“Thank ye, Gavin,” Cameron said, nodding at the other man. “Ye are dismissed.”

Next to Cameron, Margo tensed. It seemed as if she was worried about being the only woman in the room. As Gavin made his way to the door, she pulled away from them both, putting a large amount of distance between them.

When the door shut behind Gavin, she let out a long sigh. Cameron finally looked at her, taking in the way her body slumped. She wore her exhaustion like a heavy winter cloak.

“Ye chose this,” he said when she met his gaze with narrowed eyes.

Her expression soured further. He knew she couldn’t refute it. She’d insisted that he take her rather than her young sister. From the very beginning, she knew that she would be married to him.

“Those,” Margo said, pointing at the parchment that Gavin had been preparing. “What are they? My father has already signed the contracts, has he not? He’s surrendered everything tied to my dowry.”

“Aye, ye’re correct,” Cameron said quietly. He crossed the room, tapping his fingertip against the wooden desk as he skimmed the pages. Pushing the one he was searching for forward, he said, “The contract states ye have thirty days to give me an heir.”

She took a curious, disbelieving step forward. All of that indignation was still there. It was almost as if she thought he was teasing her. She nearly scoffed aloud at the notion that he was a kind of man capable of making such jokes.

“So, Lady Margo,” he said when realization dawned on her features, “ye will surrender.”

She finally tore her eyes away from the page, looking at him with fury tempered by shock. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. Her fingers tightened around the edges of the parchment; she finally managed to say, “Why on earth would you have this kind of condition?”

He watched her, an eyebrow raised. Her disbelief wouldn’t change what had been agreed upon; though it wasn’t him who stipulated the clause.

“You could have had my dowry even if I didn’t lay with you,” she continued, each word seeming to bolster her further. “The marriage binds it…” She looked down again, reading over the contract once more. Then, her jaw set, she asked, “And if I do not? If I refuse?”

Cameron stepped away from his desk, walking slowly toward where she’d positioned herself. As he approached, she stayed stubbornly in place, holding her ground even though she knew it was pointless. When he stopped in front of her, he watched a shudder work its way through her body.

I’m nae even touchin’ ye, lass. Do ye even ken how yer body reacts to me?