Marion inhaled a sharp breath as ifto answer, but Iain cut her off. “Her name is the MacLeod’s wife,” he growled.“That is what ye may call her unless I say otherwise. Do ye ken?”
Archibald eyed Iain for a longmoment, then Iain’s dagger. He nodded with a smile. “I did nae ken ye marriedagain. Is she a Scottish lass? Such things usually reach us quickly.”
“Nay. She’s from England.”
“Och, that explains it, then. I’msorry for ye,” Archibald said, shaking his head. “Come. I’ll lead ye to Alex.”
Iain didn’t correct Archibald’sassumption that Marion was a cold Englishwoman. It was better to let him thinkthat so that he’d not bother with her.
Iain simply nodded and motioned forRory Mac, Angus, and Neil to follow.
If it were possible to spit fire, Marion was sureshe’d be shooting blazing flames out of her mouth and nostrils right now. Shewas that mad. She glared ahead as Iain guided his horse toward the towering,foreboding hold in the distance. She was about to tell him exactly what shethought of him instructing people to call her “the MacLeod’s wife,” and just asbad was his obvious distaste for his English wife, but the man with the darkgaze, Archibald, placed himself beside Iain and started asking him questionsabout their king, David, and his captivity in England.
Through the anger roaring in herears, she learned that David had been imprisoned in England for eleven yearsalready. She’d not known it had been that long. Father had mentioned the Kingof Scots before, and what he’d said was that King Edward wanted a Scottish kinghe could control, and David was not a man to be controlled, which was likelywhy he was still imprisoned. She knew little else because Father didn’t considerher worthy of talking to about—or capable of understanding—politics. Perhapsshe’d ask Iain later. She thought he’d likely tell her more of the history, atleast.
She sat silently as they rode, butwhen Marion heard the man Archibald refer to her once more as “the MacLeod’swife,” she felt as if smoke was coming from her, but no one seemed to notice orcare. She cut her gaze to her left and met Angus’s eyes. Her stomach clenchedat the pity and worry swimming in her friend’s green gaze.
I’m sorry, lass,he mouthed.
She nodded and quickly turned away,not wanting to show her anger to him. Even though Iain was Angus’s laird, shedidn’t doubt that Angus’s loyalty was with her, and because of that, she didn’twant him to see how upset and hurt she was by Iain’s treatment. Knowing Angus,he’d lose his temper and say something he should not. Iain may be a reasonableman, but she doubted he’d stand for one of his clansmen telling him how totreat his wife. Besides that, she was married now, and she was Iain’s“property,” as he’d so rudely told everyone. She squeezed her hands together.If she’d had any doubts that Iain only cared for her for the pleasure she couldgive him, she had none now.
With Iain referring to her as “theMacLeod’s wife,” everyone would soon know he had little regard for her. Shegritted her teeth at the familiar pain of being the one who didn’t belong. Herfather had been quick to point out often that she was only half-English, andnow she supposed she was only half-Scottish, and worse, an intruder in Iain’slife and his clan. Though Rory Mac had been nice enough, as well as Neil, shesuspected once his clan saw she was not loved by Iain, they would ignore her,just as most everyone had done at her father’s home.
She jerked a hand through her hair,and her fingers became stuck in the tangled mess. She slowly unthreaded herfingers from her matted locks and brought her hands in front of her. Dirtsmudged her skin and had caked itself under her nails. She could only imaginehow awful she must look.
Maybe her appearance hadembarrassed Iain and that was why he’d treated her so. The thought made herfrown. If it was, the man was a shallow goat. She almost wanted to not batheuntil they reached his home just to teach him a lesson, but the fact was thather skin itched and so did her scalp, and she really did feel dirty. No, shewasn’t going to forego a bath, if she could get one, just to torture him. Therewere other ways to do that. Well, really only one, which was todenyhim her body. She doubted he’d force her to join with him, at least not here atthe MacLean hold. The problem was that she had enjoyed his touch, too.
Just the memory of it made her feelwarm and tingly. But perhaps if she refused him until he at least gave her therespect she deserved, he’d treat her better. She could feel her brows pullingtogether. Would those actions make him treat her better or make him so angry hebecame a brute? Oh, how she wished her mother were still alive and she couldask her what to do. She needed advice, but she had no one with whom she couldtalk. Certainly not Angus. Just the thought of trying to tell him theseparticular problems burned her cheeks.
When the horse suddenly stopped,she was surprised to realize they had arrived at the MacLean’s hold. She staredat the enormous castle, and her jaw dropped. A mountain rose in the sky behinda mammoth mound of stones, and the castle seemed to stretch into the blue withthe mountains. To one side was a great cliff, and on the other a jagged rockcovered in green moss seemed to grow toward the sea.
Iain lifted her up and off thehorse before she could protest that she could manage on her own.
Archibald dismounted his own horseand stepped toward them. “Alex is down by the sea.” The man looked away fromIain and to her. “Do ye want to take her to meet him now, or will it just beus? It will determine the path we take to get to him.”
Iain shook his head. “She can awaitme in my chamber.”
Marion wanted to smack herhusband—hard. She was going to need to pay another indulgence for that sinfulthought, but really, how was she supposed to help it?
“Laird.” Angus spoke up. “Perhapsye should present Marion te—”
“Nay,” Iain said, cutting offAngus’s words.
Marion silently prayed he’d saynothing else. It was humiliating, and Iain clearly did not consider her worthyof meeting his friend.
Iain took her by the elbow. “I’msure ye want to clean up before meeting Alex.”
She forced herself to nod, and shestruggled not to narrow her eyes at him. “Of course. I wouldn’t want to shameyou,mylord.”
Iain frowned at her, then addressedArchibald. “Is there a clanswoman about who can show Marion to the bedchambersand bring her fresh water?”
Archibald’s answer was a loud,long, shrill whistle.
Within a minute, a young woman camestomping down the castle steps, her flaming-red hair flowing behind her in thewind. No one spoke as she progressed down the steep stairwell, but a few of themen whistled at her. When she got to the last step, she set her hands on herhips and gave the men an icy stare that silenced all of them. Marion wasinstantly envious. She wanted to learn that look.
The woman tossed her long red hairover her shoulders as she walked toward them. “I’ve told ye a hundred times naeto whistle at me, Archibald. If ye want me, cart your arse up the stairs andfetch me. I’m nae a dog, but a woman.”
Archibald grinned. “I ken well ye’rea woman, Bridgette. Shall I show ye?”
