"Wait!" she exclaimed wide-eyed and tore her lips from his.
Connor stared into her eyes for a moment, before deciding what he saw there was encouragement enough. His lips brushed hers, his tongue traced her lips.
She stepped out of his embrace and pressed her hand to her lips, her breathing ragged. Connor stepped with her though, and gently pulled her hand from her mouth. Before he tugged her back into his arms, Mackenzie vaguely realized that his flawless control had slipped. This time his kiss was more demanding, more insistent. His lips were harder, bold and possessive, claiming her. She was right; he was losing control. While a part of her was thrilled that she was the cause of his loss of self-control, another part of her still couldn't shake the fact that he was her captor for all intents and purposes.
"Please don't," she said softly against his mouth, brushing his lips with each word .
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"Why not? You want me." He stated, rather than asked.
"No," her response was tremulous, and not at all convincing.
"I doona believe you." His head descended once more.
"Please?" Mackenzie whispered desperately, and closed her eyes. When he paused, she opened them slowly, warily, and asked him, "What do you want from me?"
Connor stared into her eyes for a long moment, as if he were looking for the answer to some unknown question. His hands were still around her waist, and she felt his fingers tighten, gripping until they dug into her flesh. Finally, he spoke.
"You are engaged to the Campbell."
"Y-es," Mackenzie drew it out slowly, trying to see where his line of questioning was heading. Connor wasn't asking, he had stated, once again. "But you know that." Mackenzie was confused by this. What was he getting at?
"Do you know much about your betrothed?" Bitterness had twisted his features and his hands dropped from Mackenzie's waist.
"Like what?" Mackenzie narrowed her eyes, trying to understand his sudden change, wondering what he expected from her.
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"So you kidnapped me to keep me from marrying Campbell." Connor's silence encouraged her, "But I don't understand why that would matter to him? Why
I
would matter to him? We've never even met. Plus, I'm not a Mackenzie, per se, I'm a Stewart. So why does marriage to me get him the support of the Mackenzie tribe? And even if all that you say is true, then won't he come after me, you know, try to steal me back?" Mackenzie realized that she had asked several questions, and paused, to see how he would reply.
"The Campbell is a proud man, and he will retaliate. When I abducted you, it was an insult to his
honor
," Connor sneered the word, curling his upper lip slightly. She guessed he didn't think the man too honorable. "You matter because you are his, and I've taken you from him."
"I am not
his
...What am I, a chair? I am not a piece of property!" Mackenzie fumed. She stalked to the fireplace and stared at the fire.
"Aye, you are, or at least you will be his upon marriage."
Connor's tone was unapologetic. "In accord with your father, 72
Mackenzie glared at the fireplace, realizing that he was right, at least in his views on women's position in life. After a moment, she flipped her hair over her shoulder, running her fingers through it to further dry the damp curls. "This sucks!
Stupid 18th century values, and lack of women's rights!" she muttered to the fireplace.
She whirled on Connor with a fierce light in her eyes, "You know, one day, women will have just as much a right to decide whom they marry as men do. And we'll be able to own property and vote and work and have a say in our own lives!"
Was she allowed to tell Connor her secret? She figured probably not, and kept the rest of her feminist thoughts to herself.
Connor seemed amused by her little tirade, if not confused. "Well, until that day comes, you'll have to do as your father says. Who, if I am not mistaken, says you shall marry the Campbell. A marriage I canna allow to take place.
As I have said, he is a cruel man, so perhaps you should thank me, for saving you from a fate worse than death, rather than stomping about the room." He was definitely amused.
"I was not stomping around the room." She pouted, then she smiled, "Well, maybe a little," and she chuckled. "I am sort of behaving like a child." And she giggled again. Then she sighed. "So, how much do you know about me?"
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"So nothing, then?" she challenged.
"You are engaged to my enemy. 'Tis all I need ken." He said this so dismissively that Mackenzie bristled instantly.
"And that's all I am to you? A..a..a
pawn
to be used against him? That's so chauvinistic!!!" Her bitterness seeped through and she wasn't guarding her speech. "You know, there's a lot more to me than what you think you see. In my time..."
"What mean you, 'Your time?'" he interrupted.
"Nothing, never mind." Mackenzie suddenly felt the need to bite her tongue. "What of my travelling companions? What happened to them?"
Connor registered the subject change with a slight narrowing of his eyes, but let it go. "They were set free, of course. By now they should be back at the Campbell's keep. I assume they have reported of their failure to deliver you, and I assume the Campbell will no' be happy." He sounded smug.
"You assume a lot." Mackenzie muttered.
"You doubt me?" Connor sounded incredulous, as if anyone would dare doubt his word, let alone Mackenzie, a mere woman.
Mackenzie paused to gather her thoughts. "No, I just meant that you don't know for sure what has happened to them, so how can you be so certain that your little plan has worked?"
"And what do you think happened?" the sarcasm was heavy, with an implied
as if I care about your opinion
tacked on to the end.
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"Doona underestimate your worth to him." Connor said this softly.
"What does that mean? How is he supposed to value someone he has never seen or met? You said before that you insulted his honor, but I still don't understand any of this. Is it because of the rumors? Because from what I've heard, I'm not exactly your average blushing bride; I've stood a man up at the altar, I'm too old, and I've romped around Europe for the last couple of years. Doesn't that 'de-value' me, so to speak?" She used her fingers to make air quotes, and the frustration was making her tone sharper than necessary, but Mackenzie didn't really care. None of this made any sense to her. And it was time someone explained this all to her. Now.
"It means, that for reasons known only to your father, he has made a devil's bargain with the Campbell to wed you by the end of the month. This will appease the Mackenzie clan, and your father is probably just happy you are still wed-able."
Mackenzie folded her arms across her chest and glared, but otherwise ignored the jibe. "Now through that bargain, you are his, and I have stolen something of his. Were I in his place, I would retrieve what was rightfully mine, and seek justice against him."
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He shrugged, "Whichever."
"So I could be ugly, but he wouldn't care, because you are both testosterone-fueled men who would rather fight it out, than resolve this peacefully, or let me choose what I would like to do?"
"And what is it that you would like to do, Mackenzie?"
It was the first time he'd called her by her given name, and the sound of her name rolling off his tongue sent chills through her. That smoldering fire in her belly flared at the seductive burr caressing her name. She noticed that he'd ignored her first question.
"I would like to know if I would matter to either one of you if I were an ugly old hag," she stubbornly refused to let it drop. She wanted to stamp her foot, but figured that it would be way too childish.
His smile was patronizing, as if he were speaking to a child. "Of course no'. Your appearance does not matter, your position does. Now answer
my
question; what would you like to do?"
Her eyes widened at the implication, but thought she wanted to look away, she held his gaze. "I would like to go eat." Mackenzie said it slowly, and he smothered a smile as she glared up at him.
"Then by all means, my Lady, let us go down to supper."
And he chivalrously, if not a bit sarcastically, held his arm out for her.
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Dinner was a much larger event than Mackenzie expected.
The whole clan was here, Connor had told her. It was an occasion; Connor had returned the victor. He had the Campbell's betrothed, and everyone was celebrating that.
Mackenzie sat next to Connor, and on his other side was an empty seat. She idly wondered who it was saved for. He wasn't married, she was sure of that; he wouldn't have kissed her if he was married. Of course what did she know? Connor could have a wife and ten kids and she would never know, it's not like he confided in her. It didn't matter, though, because she was going to pretend to marry someone else, and then go back to her time (and reality). Hopefully. Right now, she wasn't really sure of anything. If Connor was right, and this Campbell guy came for her, would Connor give her up? Or would he fight to keep her? And then what? Mackenzie's imagination was getting away from her, she was imagining staying here with Connor. She knew he wanted her, but she also knew that was all he wanted, and for her it wasn't enough. He didn't really even like her, she thought. She knew that desire and lust were very different emotions from caring and affection. But that was a dangerous train of thought. So she let her eyes wander around the room.
The meal was in the Hall and it was set up with long tables and chairs. There were humongous oil paintings of men with swords, women in gowns, battles, which were spaced every few feet around the hall. She and Connor sat at a table raised 77
Her musings were interrupted by the music. The loud wail of a bagpipe caught her attention, and she turned her head until she could see the piper. Being that Granny Mackenzie had always played her folk records whenever Mackenzie had visited, she was used to the sound of bagpipes...her brother however, couldn't abide the sound for the same reason; Granny always had Scottish music on. She sighed wistfully.
How Granny would have loved to see this.
Connor was staring at her, and she hadn't noticed, until she looked at him.
"Are you enjoying yourself, lass?" He sounded as if he genuinely wanted to know. She put a smile on her face.
"Yes, thank you." She picked up her fork, noticing that someone—-Connor?—-had filled a plate for her. Some foods were recognizable, beef, potatoes, bread, others, not so much. Ever brave, Mackenzie tried one of everything on her plate.
"And the food's to your liking?"
"It's really good, thanks." Had she forgotten her manners?
He was really staring at her. What was he waiting for?
"What?"
"You seemed sad, a moment ago."
"Oh."
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He pressed on. "What were you thinking about?"
She sighed again. This was still a sore topic. "My granny.
She would have loved this. After she moved to America, she never got the chance to visit her home again. We were supposed to go together, but she died recently and we never got the chance. I was thinking that she would have appreciated the music better than I."
"You doona care for the pipes?" He sounded so astounded that she smiled.
"It's not that. It's just that she loved them."
He gave her a long look, that to her felt as if he could see straight to her soul. As she got more and more edgy, he stared harder and harder.
What? What did he want? What did
he see?
But he turned back to the entertainment and she let out a long, unsteady breath.
Mackenzie was feeling very alone in a room otherwise full of people. She glanced shyly at some of the other tables in the Hall. Everyone was staring at her; it was a repeat of the earlier scene when she'd entered the courtyard that afternoon. Many stared with awe at Connor, and then when they'd look at her it would be with anger or hate or even disgust. The best she could figure on that aspect was that they were disgusted that she would agree to marry the Campbell. Maybe they all thought she wanted to marry him, or that she felt some loyalty to her fiance. She half-smiled,
If
only they knew
, she thought,
if only
. She glanced at Connor out of the corner of her eye to see he was staring at her too.
Oh, that's right, she was smiling. He probably was wondering why
. Oh well, too bad for him
. That thought made her smile 79