Highland Captive (35 page)

Aimil
sighed when Parlan entered their chambers. She knew it was him by the sound of
his footsteps but she did not move from where she lay on her back on the bed.
Neither did she open her eyes even when he grasped her gently by the chin. She
was feeling very weary of conflict and did not wish to face the anger he must
surely feel.

“So,
she did strike you.” Parlan lightly touched her bruised cheek with his
fingertips.

Surprised,
she finally looked at him. “‘Tis bruising?”

“Aye,
as always. So too did Janet let slip that she had struck you. How do ye feel?”

“It
barely stings. I am certain that the bruise looks worse than it is.”

“Nay,
I didnae mean your cheek though ‘tis glad I am that ye suffer little from it.”
He gently placed his hand over her abdomen. “Ye didnae stumble or grow too
upset, did ye?”

Realizing
that his concern was for the child, she felt a bit hurt. “Nay, ‘tis fine. Your
heir rests secure.”

“Good,
for any trouble with the bairn now could surely harm ye.”

“It
wouldnae do the bairn much good either.”

“Nay,
and t’would sore grieve me if aught happened to him, but ‘tis ye I feared for.
Ye should have just turned away from her.” He sat down beside her on the bed.

“I
did but she pulled me back. Have I caused a great deal of trouble?” She was not
sorry for what she had done to Janet, felt the woman deserved that and more,
but did not wish to be the cause of difficulties between Parlan and his closest
allies.

“Nothing
worth fashing yourself over.” He kissed her then sprawled at her side.

“Ye
didnae need to leave your business, did ye?”

“Weel,
nay, and I had just as soon wait until the stench of the muck heap has left the
hall.” He grinned when she grimaced.

Before
she could stop herself, she murmured, “Ye were betrothed to Janet?”

“What?”
He sat up straight and stared at her in surprise. “What did ye say?”

“Nothing,”
she mumbled weakly, surprised by his violent reaction and hoping vainly that
she could act as if the question had never been asked. “Mayhaps the hall smells
better now.”

“Aimil,
did Janet tell ye that she and I were betrothed?”

“Did
I say that?”

He
leaned over her, one hand palm down on either side of her head. “Aye, nearly.
Did she say that?”

Parlan
had known that Janet was pinching at Aimil but he admitted to himself that he
had given little thought to the possible content of the woman’s words. Although
he knew, to his increasing regret, that there were women in the keep who could
rightfully claim to have known him very well indeed, he felt he had made Aimil
understand that the women he had bedded in the past meant nothing to him and,
if reassurance was needed, he could give it again. He did not, however, want
any woman filling Aimil’s head with lies about promises never made or feelings
never felt.

Aimil
grimaced as she met his stare. She knew he would press her until she told him
everything. She was not sure why it was of any importance to him, why he did
not simply say no and leave the matter at that, but he clearly was not going
to. Reluctantly, she decided that she might as well tell him the whole of it
and save them both a great deal of annoyance.

“She
said that, if I hadnae come along, your heir would have carried Dunmore blood,
that her father spoke of such a match and”—she took a deep breath and watched
him closely as she finished—“that ye said as much yourself.” Her eyes widened
at the curse he spat.

“And
no doubt I whispered these sweet words into her fair ears during some embrace.”

“Against
her skin, she said. “Heated love words against her skin’ to quote her more
exactly.” Aimil found the words bitter.

“And
that is when ye came to blows?” He kissed her bruised cheek.

“Nay.
I swear, Parlan, I sorely tried to rein in my temper. I swallowed her insults
about me and about Lowlanders. I even swallowed the insults about why ye
married me at all. I ken ye were no monk before we wed so I was willing to
ignore all talk of what ye had done in the past and with whom but, when she
struck me...” Aimil shrugged. “I couldnae stand still for that no matter how
strongly I reminded myself that ye wanted no trouble nor upset.”

“And
ye were within your rights, dearling. She had no call to strike ye, none at
all.”

“Weel,
I ken that my tongue can be sharp though I did try to temper my words.” She
sighed. “I was fair pressed to control my temper too, there isnae any denying
it, which is why I was leaving. I kenned that I would hear of lasses ye had
bedded but I wasnae ready to hear that there had been more than that with any
of them.”

“There
wasnae, especially not with Janet Dunmore. Neither was there any “heated words
of love.’ I have never even glimpsed Janet Dunmore’s skin though she has always
been eager to show it to me. I have never bedded the fool woman. Not once.”

“Not
even once?” She had never doubted that Parlan had bedded Janet just what
feelings had been or had not been involved in the act.

“Nay.
If naught else, I kenned weel that Lord Dunmore would cry for marriage if he
discovered it.”

“And
Janet would be sure that he did.”

“Aye,
before we had caught our breath. Aimil”—he caught her face between his hands
and kissed her gently—“I was never her lover and I never spoke love words to
the silly woman. I have never been betrothed, or even near to it, with any
lass.”

“I
kenned that Lord Dunmore would have liked such a mating but I never hinted that
I would agree to it. Now, if ye hadnae come along, I may weel have ended wedded
to the lass for a man has to wed sometime. I never even hinted that much to
her.”

“I
kenned she was pinching at ye but felt it wouldnae help to meddle. I wish I had
now for I dinnae want ye worried with these lies. They were lies, Aimil. I
swear to that. I am also verra sorry that I didnae realize what sort of insults
she would fling at your head.”

She
sighed and shook her head. “I hadnae realized that the Highlanders hated the
Lowlanders so much.”

“Not
all of us, lass. There are some of us with the wisdom to like or to hate a man
according to what sets in his heart not by the place he calls home.” He smiled
crookedly and winked. “Though ‘tis a trial to be so fair toward a Sassanach.”
His smile grew wider when she laughed softly; then he kissed her again before
nimbly getting off the bed. “Enough of that, lass. I have work to do.”

Before
she could gasp out her outraged reply, he was gone. She shook her head,
half-smiling over his nonsense then decided to rest until they all had to
gather in the hall for a meal. It annoyed her that the incident with Janet
should be enough to make her feel so weary, but she decided it was best for the
child to heed her body’s urgings to rest. So too would a good rest make it a
little easier to face Janet later.

To
Aimil’s surprise, Janet never appeared for the meal. Since she was sure she had
not really hurt the woman, Aimil found it difficult to understand Janet’s
absence. To her added consternation, Lord Dunmore kept glancing toward her
bruised cheek, and scowling. Aimil suspected that the powder and paint she had
applied had not hidden the bruising as well as she had hoped. She decided it
might be best to avoid the man only to be confronted by him as she started to
retire for the night, leaving the men to discuss past glories and their hopes
for more in the future.

“M’lady,
I wish ye to accept my most humble apologies.” Lord Dunmore took her hand in
his and raised it briefly to his lips.

A
little confused, Aimil asked softly, “For what, m’lord?”

“For
my daughter’s actions this afternoon. T’was inexcuseable.”

“Oh.
Weel, t’was but a wee squabble, m’lord. Dinnae fash yourself.”

“Ye
are too generous.”

It
took her a few more minutes to convince him that she was neither hurt nor
deeply offended. As she finally made her way to her chambers, she shook her
head. Lord Dunmore clearly wished the alliance to remain firm as much as Parlan
did. Even his plainly cherished daughter took second place to it.

Upon
entering her chambers, she found no maid nor had the fire been tended to. It
did not really surprise her for such small discourtesies had become common.
Dunmore
might be the laird
, she mused as she lit a candle,
but he doesnae rule
as completely as he might think he does
. She was certain that he would not
approve of the lack of courtesy but she was not going to tell him. Aimil felt
sure that such tale-bearing would, in the end, only add to her problems.

She
was tending to the fire when Parlan strode in. Glancing briefly at him, she
continued to work but cursed to herself. She had hoped to be done before he
came. The look upon his face as he strode toward her to take over the chore of
the fire told her that he was as furious as she had expected him to be. It was
going to take a lot to calm him down.

“Where
are the cursed maids? Ye shouldnae be doing this work. Did ye dismiss them?”

“Aye.”
She had answered too quickly and she knew it so was not surprised when he
turned to eye her suspiciously.

“They
were never here, were they?”

Sighing,
she shook her head, seeing no point in lying to him. The laxity and often the
absence of any assistance to her was something she had been expecting him to
notice. She was surprised, in fact, that it had taken him so long.

“I
will speak to Lord Dunmore in the morning.”

“I
wish ye wouldnae, Parlan.” She shed her robe and climbed into bed, watching as
he washed up.

“They
break the rules of common courtesy, loving. I cannae believe Dunmore would
order it so.”

“Oh,
nay, I dinnae think he has aught to do with it. I doubt he even kens what games
are played.”

“And
the ones who play them should be punished,” he said flatly as he finished
undressing. “If only because they could be making a lot of trouble for their
laird. ‘Tis also that they shirk the work given them and that shouldnae be
tolerated.”

“Nay,
it shouldnae.” When he slid into bed beside her, she quickly cuddled up to him
when he reached for her. “Cannae ye ignore it?”

“Why,
lass? Ye cannae like coming into an unreadied bedchamber. Aye, ye can do for
yourself but ye shouldnae have to. Dunmore has more than enough lasses to see
to your needs. Aye, and since ye are with child, they should tend ye even more
vigilantly.”

“Ye
are right in all ye say but, I beg ye, Parlan, leave it be. They must think
they have good reason for what they do.”

“There
is no reason, no pardon, for treating a guest of their laird so discourteously.”

“Nay,
‘tis true enough.” She sighed, wondering how she could explain her feelings to
him. “But some of the women might resent me for I keep ye from seeking them out
this visit.”

“Ye
kept me from seeking them out the last time, too,” he murmured.

That
delighted her, but she pushed on with her explanation. “So, Parlan, there could
weel be jealousy at work here. T’will work itself out in time like the
festering splinter it can be. As ye said, no promises were made so they will
soon cease to pout and turn their interests elsewhere.”
Or so I hope
,
she added silently.

“Then
there is the fact that I am a Lowlander.” She placed a finger over his lips to
silence him when he began to protest. “Nay, dinnae say it. I ken that many a
man can be fair but the ill feeling is there. There is no ignoring it. No doubt
there has been a Dunmore man or twa who has died at the hands of a Lowlander
and the circumstances wouldnae matter much to one who had lost a loved one.”

“What
I am trying to say is that ‘tis best that ye leave it be, that ye let me sort
it out upon my own. Bearing tales to the laird will do little else but harden
what ill feeling there is. I must push it aside without aid, prove myself if ye
will.”

“Ye
are my wife, the mistress of Dubhglenn. That should be enough to settle this
matter, to end all troubles.”

“Not
when it may be the verra reason the troubles began. Parlan, abide with me in
this. I must settle it myself, win or lose upon my own merit, or, for however
long I abide in this land, I willnae be welcome.”

“For
now I will let ye have your way.” He held her close and nuzzled her neck,
flicking his tongue over the soft skin at the base of her throat. “And what do
ye mean by “however long I abide in this land?’”

“Weel,
I didnae want to speak too firmly of the uncertain future.”

“Where
ye will abide isnae uncertain. ‘Tis with me—forever.”

As
she succumbed to the passion of his kiss, she decided not to quibble since it
was what she hoped for anyway.

Chapter Twenty

Sighing
heavily, Aimil tossed aside her needlework petulantly. She was tired of
sitting, tired of doing little or nothing. Glancing at her well-rounded figure
with a hint of disgust, she reluctantly admitted that she was, perhaps, a
little hindered in what she could do. To her dismay, she did waddle when she
walked, but Parlan valiantly managed not to laugh, something he found difficult
when he had to help her get out of bed in the mornings.