Free The Devil of Jedburgh by Claire Robyns Page B

gone before the priest and already she was cuckolding him.
    McAllen lifted his gaze and Arran read the alarm in that blue-eyed stare. He knew his own face must read like thunder and he had no wish to mask it. Feuds had been borne from far, far less.
    He could walk out of here right now and leave McAllen to stew over when and where the Kerr might retaliate at this insult. This time, Breghan had truly pushed beyond his boundaries. Her outrageous actions and reactions, he could just about temper. There was a wildness in her spirit that drove her to challenge and refute long after the cause was lost. That he could tolerate, even marvel at once the blackness left his mood.
    “All I ask—”
    “Enough.” McAllen’s rasp cut through his daughter’s plea. His eyes never once broke contact with Arran. “If you cannot hold your tongue, by God, I’ll cut it out.”
    If I leave now, McAllen will flay his daughter. No, Arran reasoned, he would likely send Breghan to the convent with her aunt until the storm passed. There was naught to keep him here.
    Except his honour.
    Breghan may have stripped everything noble from his intentions, but he’d bestowed that power upon her and failed to place any restriction. I’m giving you the choice.
    Either she’d bewitched him or he was truly a simple fool. With a stiff nod, Arran indicated his consent.
    “Very well,” McAllen told Breghan. “You have my word.”
    She had the sense to follow her father out with the briefest glance his way.
    Breghan stood before the priest and kept her eyes on his terse smile. He was clearly not amused and with good cause. He’d been summoned to perform a wedding, been told it was a handfasting instead, and then the relevant parties had disappeared for conference.
    Silence filled the great hall like a tangible presence. Even the younger children had succumbed to the mounting tension. Breghan looked neither left nor right, wondering if it would come to the priest performing no duty at all. Arran hadn’t followed immediately and she knew not if he would.

    Curse the man. She’d asked to speak with her father in private. She could have done nothing different. She needed her father’s assurance before she sacrificed herself to Arran Kerr for a year. And now… A shiver rolled down her spine. The year ahead held little merit. She’d either be bound to a man who no doubt considered himself crossed and used, or she’d be left behind with her father’s wrath. She’d risked everything for a chance to determine her own happiness.
    When Arran moved into place beside her, Breghan drew a deep breath and uncurled her fingers.
    One year.
    She could survive anything for one year.
    “May we begin?” the priest asked wryly. “Or is there some other pressing matter that cannot wait?”
    Her father had placed himself beside the priest. Both were looking at Arran.
    “We are ready,” Arran told them.
    His neutral tone tugged at the corner of Breghan’s fragile composure. She knew he was going to make her life hell in the year to come, but God help him if he did it with a blank expression and that infernal shrug.
    Her fingers were trembling slightly when the priest folded Arran’s hand over hers and wrapped the length of silk around to join them. Breghan was intensely aware of the feel of Arran’s callused skin on hers, of the symbolic representation of being bound to this man. The intimacy was daunting.
    The vows were short, such little words with so much left unsaid.
    “I, Arran Kerr, troth to take you, Breghan McAllen, to wife in as we both be willing.”
    “I, Breghan McAllen, troth to take you, Arran Kerr, as husband in as we both be willing.”
    Breghan was pledged to the Devil of Jedburgh for a year and a day.
    For the first time since coming to stand before the priest, she glanced up at Arran. His jaw was clenched, the scar cutting his cheek whiter and more prominent than she’d noticed before.
    The priest unwound the silk and a discordant echo of