Free Captured by a Laird by Margaret Mallory

rising. “After ye laid siege to my castle and forced me to wed ye?”
    “Aye, I’m certain of it.”
    With all her heart, she wanted to believe that her brothers would respond to the wrong done to her and her daughters with fury, not cold calculation. They did care for her. And yet she would not be in this predicament if they had put her interests above their ambitions.
    Now that Archie was the chieftain and earl, would he use his family members as pawns in his power games just as their grandfather had? She pushed the question aside, determined to maintain her composure and argue for her future.
    “You’ve told me why ye believe this marriage would be to my advantage,” she said. “But I fail to see what benefit it holds for you.”
    His eyes darkened. “Several come to mind.”
    Oh my . She licked her dry lips and did not ask him to elaborate.
    “Ye already hold the castle, so ye don’t need us,” she said. “Why not let me and my daughters go?”
    “The cost of keeping Blackadder Castle—and I will keep it—will be far less if I’m perceived to have the right to hold it,” he said, giving her a smile that did not thaw the ice in his eyes. “Our marriage will save much bloodshed.”
    Alison felt as if the ground were shifting under her.
    “Some of the blood ye save will be Douglas blood,” Wedderburn continued. “If I am your husband, ’tis unlikely your brothers will attempt to remove me from Blackadder Castle by force.”
    He was trapping her with his words, each one another link in the chain he was tightening around her. And the hard lines of his handsome face told her he would never relinquish the castle without spilling blood.
    “Most of the other lairds will see that they’ve missed their chance,” he continued, “so I’ll not have to fight them either.”
    “Missed their chance?”
    “I am not the only man who wants to gain control of these lands and castle, just the first to act,” he said. “If it were not me, lass, it would be someone else.”
    Alison leaned her head against the stone wall behind her and stared at the ceiling. It had been a foolish dream to believe she could have her freedom. Why had she not seen it? She was the granddaughter of chieftains, the sister-in-law to the queen, the widow of Blackadder and the mother of his heirs. A woman with her blood connections was valuable property. Wedderburn was right. If it were not him forcing her into marriage, it would be someone else—if her brother did not barter her away first.
    She would never be allowed to remain unwed or to choose her husband, never have the chance of finding true love. Not that she believed in true love, though she had once, a very long time ago. Her girlish hope for love had disappeared like a wisp of smoke in the wind when she married.
    “I know this is not fair,” Wedderburn said, “but let’s make this arrangement as agreeable as we can.”
    Wedderburn startled her by laying his hand over hers. His was so large that only the tips of her fingers showed beneath it. She did not jerk her hand away because she did not want to chase away the unexpected kindness she saw in his eyes.
    A tiny light of hope began to burn in her chest. But then the kindness left his eyes like a door slamming shut, and the light of hope flickered out.
     
    ***
    David cursed himself for his momentary lapse. Lady Alison’s soft and sweet femininity brought out a dangerous longing in him for something he should not want, and most definitely could not have. He could never permit himself to be weakened by a woman the way his father had. Never.
    Men spoke of his father as a great leader, but his mother had been harder, colder, more determined. David took after her.
    He reminded himself that he was not marrying Lady Alison because he wanted to or because she was breathtakingly beautiful or because she needed protection, though he could give her that. And it did not make one damned bit of difference what she wanted or how she felt