The guards there scrambled away to give them privacy. The earl stopped near the wall and faced outward toward his vast estates. “All I have ever wanted,” he said slowly, “is to share this with someone I desired. And that certainly was not my last wife. I detested her, actually.” He turned to Marsaili, the strong wind fluttering his hair. She grabbed at the edges of her own flapping hair and braided it to keep it from whipping her in the face. “You ripped your dress to tend my wound, and then later that night, you danced with me. You were flushed, your skin kissed by the sun, your eyes sparkling. You laughed when I twirled you about the room. Why would you say your father ordered you to do such things? You could not have feigned such emotion.”
God’s blood. Her father’s plan had worked all too well. There was no way to tell him that would not injure and anger him, yet she had to try to find words to sway him. She licked her lips nervously. “Lionel,” she said, remembering he had wished her to call him by his given name, “there has been a grave confusion between us.”
“What do you mean?” he asked, surprising her when he jerked her hands to his lips and nipped her fingertips with his teeth.
Her unease increased tenfold. She cleared her throat. “Ye see, I—My father threatened my friend if I did not gain yer attention.”
“I do not believe you,” he thundered, his face turning red.
Marsaili flinched. This was not working. “It’s true, but it’s not only that… The day I met ye, I met another. And when I danced with ye, well, it was him in my thoughts.”
A dark look swept across the earl’s face. “You will not speak such lies anymore, or I will make you very sorry, do you understand?” He brought his hand to her face and squeezed her chin.
Her breath caught with fear. She recognized a cruelty in him that mirrored her father’s, though the earl was better at hiding it when he wished to. “I ken,” she whispered.
His grip on her chin became harder, pain radiating from the spot. “You will forget this other man, and if you cannot, I will kill him to help you do so. Perhaps I should dispense of him anyway. What name does he go by?”
She was not about to tell him Callum’s name, but her father would gladly reveal it if the earl asked him. “He’s dead,” she blurted, trying to think of something that would prevent the earl from seeking Callum’s name from her father.
“Excellent,” he replied. He gave her chin a final hard squeeze before he moved his hands to cup her face. “Sweet Marsaili, I knew you were pure of heart, and this proves it. You will forget him once we are properly joined. Don’t fear. Your heart will be filled with only thoughts of me.” He yanked her to him then and kissed her. It was sloppy, unpleasant, and harsh. That one kiss told her much about Lionel. Most importantly, he was used to being obeyed and wanted, and he’d not tolerate anything less. So she did not fight the kiss. Instead, she pretended to enjoy it. She prayed he would be convinced he had lit her desire and then become careless about guarding her. Mayhap the door to her bedchamber would not be locked, even.
Her mind raced with hopeful possibilities. She wrapped her arms around his neck, offered a few encouraging sounds, and struggled inwardly not to gag. When he finally broke the kiss, it took all her will not to scrub at her mouth. He smiled at her. “Do you see now that what I say is true? You will desire me.”
“Aye,” she said breathlessly. “I do. I kinnae wait to be married.”
He pulled her to him once more and kissed her hard on the mouth, nicking her lip with his teeth. She tasted the metallic of blood as he pulled away. “I’m eager, as well,” he told her as he dabbed a handkerchief at her lip. “We will be wed tomorrow night.”
She clenched her teeth in an effort not to gasp her displeasure. “Wonderful,” she choked out.
He nodded. “I refuse to wait longer than necessary to make you mine. And I don’t mind telling you now that I don’t care for your father overly much. I want him to depart, and I feel he would want to see you wed and joined with before he does so.”
The thought of lying with any man other than Callum made her feel ill. She forced a smile. “I presume there is a feast tonight?”
“Yes,” he said. “But you, my pet, will not be attending.”
She frowned. “I will nae?”
“No.” A dark look swept across his face. “You displeased me with your words. You—” he patted her roughly on the cheek “—will stay alone tonight and think upon how you will never say anything to displease me again. Your punishment is no food or drink, but next time it will be much harsher. Don’t forget this.”
“I will nae,” she promised him, wishing she had a dagger. She would gladly use it at this moment.
A satisfied smile came to his lips. “I have chosen the most beautiful chamber for you. It overlooks the moat, and the window will provide a lovely breeze.”
Her heart raced as an idea came to her. If the window was large enough, she could possibly escape through it and drop to the water below. Of course, she could not swim, but she would address that when she came to it. “Am I to go to my chamber now?” she asked, hoping she did not sound too eager.
“No, my sweet,” he replied and motioned to his guards. “You will spend tonight in my dungeon where you will do your penance,” he informed her as the guards came to either side of her.
Her hope for escape tonight plummeted and tomorrow she was to be wed. “Lionel,” she said, making her voice sound pleading, “will ye allow me to go to my bedchamber before our wedding so I may be refreshed for ye?”
“Convince me of your affections with a kiss, and I shall agree,” he said.
She swallowed past the desire to gag. Instead, she stepped toward him, wrapped her arms around him, and kissed him, pretending that he was Callum. When the kiss broke off, she felt nauseated, but when he smiled at her and said, “Ye may go to yer bedchamber to cleanse before we are wed,” she knew the small sacrifice had been worth it.
