Page 9 of Her Reluctant Highlander Husband

“I don’t disagree. But at least this way it ends with no one’s blood spilled.”

“That’s not true.” He nodded toward his bride.

Lach snorted. “I know ye did not take the lass in the woods. Where did you cut yourself to supply the blood?”

“My leg,” he admitted with a smirk. It was good to know Lach didn’t think him coarse with his new wife.

“I hope you’ll find some happiness with the lass,” Lach said, serious now.

Bryce walked away, knowing that wasn’t going to happen. He wouldn’t allow it. Other men—men like his father—were able to move on to the next wife as if the first didn’t matter. As if they were interchangeable. One warm body for the next. But Bryce wasn’t that kind of man.

There’d only ever been one woman for him. And that was all there’d ever be. Dorie would never take the place of Maggie.

“Let’s go,” he said to his bride as she waited at the edge of the group.

He led her out of the bailey toward the village. His cottage sat on a rise looking out over the rest of the houses, in the same spot his old home had been.

He’d burned the first cottage after finding his wife and child inside dead. He couldn’t imagine living where they’d died. While they’d been gone for nearly ten years, his new cottage was only built last fall, in preparation for this possibility.

He opened the door and waited for her to go in. When she didn’t, he went first. The dog came in with her.

“This is your home now,” he said, holding his hands out. “It’s not a castle, but it has what you need.” He pointed to the large pots and stores of food on the shelves. “Food.” Then he pointed to the bed in the side room. “Bed.”

In the main area there was a large stone hearth and two chairs. A small bookcase held a few books he’d acquired from his aunt. Dorie went to them and touched their spines reverently.

“There are plenty of windows to let in light and air. You catch a nice breeze up on this hill.”

She nodded and stepped into the bedchamber. There was a trunk at the end of the bed to hold her things. Not that she had any things. He’d best remedy that.

“I’ll see that you get shoes and new gowns. A brush, I suppose. If there’s anything else you need, you can let me know and I’ll see to it.” Though he wasn’t exactly sure how she would let him know since she didn’t speak. “I hope you’ll be happy here,” he said and turned to leave.

When he stepped out of the cottage and closed the door behind him, he heard a screech, similar to the sound an animal makes when in pain. A moment later there was banging on the door from the inside.

He opened it to find Dorie throwing herself against it. As soon as she saw it was open she rushed outside and stood in the dying sun, her chest heaving and eyes wide with terror.

“What the bloody hell?” he muttered as he went inside to see what had scared her. Perhaps a mouse or a spider. The dog was stretched out on the rug by the hearth making himself at home. “What is it? What scared you?” he asked, but of course she didn’t answer.

Her silence was fast becoming an inconvenience. When he tried to get her back inside she wouldn’t go. He thought she might resort to biting him again so he backed off.

“This is your home now. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but it’s where ye must stay.”

He thought his words would reassure her, but instead she looked all the more panicked. She didn’t want to stay inside? Perhaps she was daft as her brother had said. But he’d seen intelligence in her eyes. He’d been able to communicate with her, without words.

For the life of him, he didn’t understand what she was trying to convey now. He just wanted her to go inside so he could go back to the castle and find his bed. Getting married and spending time with Dorie had opened his wounds. He needed to be alone for a time.

He walked inside again, and eventually she came in. She propped the door open and stood close by it. He passed her and made to leave, but she quickly ran out of the cottage before he could close the door to keep her in.

“Bloody hell,” he whispered when realization dawned. She was afraid of being trapped in the cottage. “Did the bastard keep you locked up?” he asked.

She didn’t nod, but the way she looked away told him the truth of it. She was afraid of being imprisoned in her new home.

“Look here,” he said, going to the door. “It locks from the inside. You canna be locked in. See?” She watched but stayed back. “I’m going to go inside, and you try to lock me in.”

He heard her try the latches, but he opened the door and walked out. “I promise you’ll not be locked inside. Can you trust me?” he asked.

She clearly struggled with the thought of trusting him on this, but eventually she went inside. He waited for her to close the door herself and then he waited. She opened the door and came out. Calmer this time.

“You can come and go as ye please. I would suggest you keep the door closed so you don’t get pests inside, but you can open it at any time.”