Page 78 of Sins of the Highlander

For she fully intended to stay in Caisteal Dubh, no matter how unwelcome Rob’s housekeeper or the serving women tried to make her. There was no going home to her parents after this scandal. She wouldn’t bring shame to their doorstep.

Elspeth couldn’t return to Edinburgh either. She’d be laughed out of Queen Mary’s court, sniggered at, and studied covertly with sidelong glances. Or worse, be slapped with a light-heeled reputation no amount of subsequent proper behavior would erase.

And there was certainly no way she’d submit to a loveless marriage with Lachlan Drummond after giving herself heart and body to Rob MacLaren.

There was only one way forward.

Rob hadn’t asked her yet, but he’d come to it soon. They must marry. It was the only thing that would serve.

Installing her in the chatelaine’s chamber was a good beginning, though it pained her not to share a bed with him. At first, she chafed at not being taken to his chamber, but once she thought the matter through, she saw the right of it. By demanding she be treated with deference, by placing her in his mother’s room, Rob had protected her good name. His people might wonder what had passed between them on the long journey from the kirk where she was abducted to Caisteal Dubh, but they’d have no hard evidence she wasn’t still a pure maid.

It would be best for all concerned if they decided to believe her so.

It was the same sort of outward show of respectability that enabled the English to accept and enjoy the fantasy that their Elizabeth was a virgin queen. At least, that was the tale for the masses.

Privately, her courtiers told a different story. According to the lordlings from England who visited her Scottish cousin Mary’s court, Queen Elizabeth had a new favorite so often it was hard to tell who was in and who was out of her special favor without keeping a running tally.

Though they never said so unless they were deep in their cups, and even then, not very loudly.

If Elspeth could maintain a virginal image here in Rob’s home, it would make matters less embarrassing for her parents. And easier for his people to accept her as their respected chatelaine once they married.

Because they must marry. That was all there was to it.

Surely he’d see that.

There was a rap on the door, and the serving women who grumbled as they took turns hauling her bathwater away, set down their buckets and stood at rapt attention.

“Come,” Elspeth called.

The door opened, and Rob was framed by the opening. Her heart fluttered like a caged bird beating its wings against the wire.

Rob had obviously had a bath and shaved off the stubble of his beard. He was a handsome enough man to turn feminine heads if he were dressed in rags. He’d been a raging madman painted with woad the first time Elspeth saw him, and he still made her breath hitch. Now he was every inch a laird. In full Highland regalia, Rob MacLaren was a sight to tempt even a nun to debauchery.

He smiled at Elspeth, and her insides trembled. The rest of the world faded away in his blinding brightness.

Then she remembered the serving women were hanging on every moment, so she dipped in a formal curtsey. “My lord.”

“My lady, will ye honor me by dining at my side this night?” His eyes shone at her.

“Aye, with pleasure.”

He offered her his arm. She rested her palm on it lightly and let him escort her from the room. The heat of his body sizzled through the fine lawn of his shirt and into her hand. She tried to give no outward sign, but she was near to bursting into flames from wanting him so.

It felt different, being with him here in his home. As if he were a whole other person, one who still looked like the Rob MacLaren, who fought a wolf pack for her and stole her heart, but this Rob was suddenly weighed down by the cares of his station. He was courtly and correct. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he began spouting poetry.

As they walked down the corridor to the stairs, she leaned toward him. “Do ye suppose we’ll have barley bannocks and a rind of cheese?”

He laughed at the memory of the first meal he’d offered her. The correct and courtly laird fell by the way, and he was just Rob again. “We’re under siege, ye ken, but I think we can do better than that.”

Once Rob and Elspeth took their places at a raised table in the Great Hall, he introduced Elspeth with a no-nonsense announcement that she was his honored guest. A ripple of murmurs circled the hall, and none of the faces turned toward her brightened with a smile of welcome.

“My disagreement is with Elspeth Stewart’s bridegroom, no’ the lady herself. I’ll have more than words for any who show her the slightest discourtesy,” he said sharply, and the murmurs ceased.

Then he raised his glass, and the people of the Clan MacLaren joined him in a toast to themselves. After a long draught, they all sat down to their trenchers and fell to with a will to welcome home their wandering laird.

But the unfriendly glances in Elspeth’s direction didn’t cease. They were merely quicker and more stealthy, lest Rob catch one of them at it. Elspeth decided the best course of action was to study her own trencher.

The cooks at Caisteal Dubh certainly did better than barley bannocks and a cheese rind.