Free When a Scot Ties the Knot by Tessa Dare Page B

lie in her youth . . . this happened. She’d agreed to marry a perfect stranger. One who cared nothing for her, and one she was in danger of caring far too much about.
    But she wasn’t fully married to him yet.
    With a bit of luck, perhaps she never would be.

 
    Chapter Six
    L ogan hadn’t expected to get much sleep on his wedding night.
    He hadn’t thought he’d be spending it on the floor.
    But his rest was disturbed for an entirely different reason. It was distressingly quiet.
    Everything he’d told Madeline was true. In boyhood, he’d slept in pastures or byres, surrounded by shaggy Highland cattle or bleating sheep. Since joining up with the Royal Highlanders, he’d been bedding down on a pallet surrounded by his fellow soldiers. It hadn’t felt much different from sleeping amid beasts, to be honest. There had been a certain comfort to it, with the nightly symphony of crude snorings and scratchings.
    But while he’d passed many hours of pleasure with female company, he was not accustomed to sleeping near a woman. Cuddling? Never happened.
    Maddie’s presence in the same room made him strangely uneasy. She was too mysterious, too quiet, too tempting. The sweet scent of lavender kept prodding him awake every time he started drifting off to sleep.
    As soon as the first light of dawn seeped through the window, he rose from his makeshift bed, buckled his kilt about his waist, and made his way out of the castle to stand by the loch, watching the new day creep across the blue surface and burn off the mist.
    â€œSo, Captain. How are ye feeling this fine morn?”
    Logan turned away from his view of the loch. “What?”
    Callum and Rabbie stood behind him, peering at him with an unusual degree of interest.
    Rabbie propped his forearm on Callum’s shoulder. “What do you think, lad?”
    Callum cocked his head. “I dinna rightly know. I think it’s a yes.”
    Rabbie laughed. “I think not.”
    Logan frowned. “What the devil are you on about?”
    Rabbie clucked his tongue. “Irritability. That’s not a good sign.”
    â€œBut he doesna look well rested,” Callum replied. “That should be a point in my favor.”
    Logan stopped trying to make sense of them. He was in no humor for their joking this morning.
    â€œIf you’re awake, we might as well get to work,” he said.
    After breakfast, they all rode out to scout the glen.
    Not far from the loch, they found the remnants of a ruined cattle enclosure. Time, weather, or battles had crumbled the low walls ages ago. There was no use in rebuilding it, but the loosened stone could be put to use in building cottages.
    He put his hand on a waist-­high bit of wall, and a chunk of stone immediately shook loose. It landed on his boot, crushing his great toe. Logan kicked it aside and ground out a curse.
    He turned in time to see Rabbie extending an open palm in Callum’s direction. “I’ll take my payment now.”
    Callum resentfully dug a coin from his sporran and placed it in Rabbie’s hand.
    Logan had had enough of their mysterious chatter. “Explain yourselves.”
    â€œI’m just settling a wager with Callum,” Rabbie said.
    â€œWhat kind of bet?” he demanded.
    â€œAs to whether you bedded your wee little English bride on the wedding night.” Rabbie grinned. “I said no. I won.”
    Damn. Was his frustration that obvious?
    Logan thought of the way he’d just cursed at a rock.
    Yes, it probably was.
    They’d lived too close with each other for far too long. Logan could tell at a glance when Callum’s stump was paining him, and he could sense when Fyfe had a difficult night ahead.
    He knew his men, and they knew him, too. It would be plain to them all that he hadn’t purged his own lust last night.
    Though Rabbie’s wagers were crass and stupid, he understood why the men would take more