Free CLAIMED BY A HIGHLANDER (THE DOUGLAS LEGACY Book 2) by Margaret Mallory Page A

“But I’ll be content.”
    ***
    Content? That was a bald lie. He might have been content with another woman as his wife before he imagined sharing his life with this lively, raven-haired lass with the sparkle in her eyes. But not now.
    He could refuse to release Sybil from their marriage contract. Instead, he would hold on to what pride he had left. He would return to his clan and take a bride who would wed him out of duty or because she needed his protection.
    He could accept that sort of marriage with someone else, but not with Sybil.
    God’s bones, he wanted Sybil to choose him, to want him for himself, to wed him because she cared for him. Nothing less would satisfy him. How had he developed such a weakness for her in so short a time?
    He knew damn well it would be a mistake to kiss her farewell. And yet his body was pulled to hers like the tide to the shore. He could not stop himself. As he leaned down, she rose on her toes to meet him.
    One taste of her lips, and the word mine pulsed through him. Desire surged through his veins, robbing him of his reason, when she leaned into him and kissed him back. He wanted so badly to sweep her into his arms and carry her away.
    He broke the kiss while he still could.
    Ach, he was a fool. Knowing he was did not make leaving her any easier. He was packed and ready, so he took Curan by the reins and left the stable. He felt Sybil’s eyes on his back but he did not turn around.
    His heart felt heavier with each step as he crossed the dark bailey to the torch-lit gate. The guards wordlessly opened the gate for him. The wind howled as he stepped into the black night on the other side.
    The heavy oak gate banged behind him with a finality that reverberated in his soul.

CHAPTER 8
     
    “Ye seem so low,” Margaret said, and squeezed Sybil’s hand. “Do ye regret not going with your Highlander?”
    Sybil had told her the whole story as they sat talking on the bed with their backs propped against the headboard, as they used to when they were young girls.
    “How could I regret it?” Sybil forced a smile. “I hardly know him.”
    “I think ye do know him,” Margaret said. “Though your time together did not amount to many days, I suspect ye learn more about a man when ye face danger together than ye do chatting in a crowded hall at court.”
    Sybil did feel as though she knew Rory’s character. He was a good man. But what would he think of her if he ever learned that the marriage contract was false? Nay, she made the only decision she could.
    “I saw how he looked at ye,” Margaret said. “He cared for ye.”
    “Ye mistake lust for affection,” Sybil said, rolling her eyes. “Once his lust was satisfied, I’d be a constant disappointment to him. Can ye see me living in the wilds?”
    “I can see ye doing anything ye put your mind to,” Margaret said.
    In any case, it was too late to change her mind. Rory was anxious to return home. Without her to hold him back, he would be many miles away by now. He would soon forget her and make some lucky Highland lass his bride. Sybil’s heart clenched in her chest at the thought.
    “Perhaps you’ll meet him again one day,” Margaret said, and patted her hand.
    God forbid. While Sybil wished Rory happy with all her heart, she most definitely did not wish to see him with his beaming wife on his arm.
    “Margaret!”
    The shout coming up the stairs jarred Sybil from her thoughts. It was William, the last person she wanted to see. Without pausing to think, she dove under the bed. She pulled her skirts out of sight just as the door scraped open.
    It slammed shut and William’s polished boots came toward the bed.
    “Good evening, husband,” Margaret said in a soft voice.
    “Where are Sybil and that Highlander?”
    “He left the castle, and Sybil has gone to bed,” Margaret said.
    “I don’t want your sister here,” William said. “We’re already in danger because of your brother. Her presence here can only make our