Free Samantha James by Bride of a Wicked Scotsman Page A

family was compromised in such a way?”
    He would not, he admitted to himself grudgingly. He had not. A voice inside reminded him that he had demanded marriage to his sister from his present brother-in-law, Simon Blackwell, for only a kiss—not the deflowering of a lady of respectable family, as he himself had apparently done.
    Society’s rules demanded payment, he thoughtwith a bitter twist. Perhaps it would have set better if he at least remembered it!
    Preston interrupted his thought. “Your choice regarding the lady will reflect on you, your grace. Offer,” the baron urged. “Do not make Murdoch demand. I believe it’s the better way.”
    Alec uncoiled himself. The baron was right. He was used to having his way, damn it all, and when all did not go his way…
    Well, in this instance, at least, he had no choice to blame it on the effects of too much wine.
     
    Murdoch was standing with his hands behind his back when Alec approached a scant five minutes later.
    “Your grace?” he inquired coolly.
    Alec gave a stiff bow. “I should like a word with my”—his lip curled—“bride-to-be. That is, if it meets with your approval.”
    Murdoch stared him down. “Do not give me your airs, boy. I want your word that you will treat her as a lady should be treated.”
    “For God’s sakes, man, I am neither a fiend nor a monster.” Alec’s response was terse and tight-lipped. Maxwell’s request prompted in him a faint admiration for the man’s protectiveness, though he was in no mood to admit it just now.
    “Your word, your grace.”
    “You have it.” Alec’s tone was tight. “Now may I pass? And I would like a little privacy, if you please.”
    Murdoch stepped aside. “She is at the end of the path near the fountain.” From the sound of it, he was certain the old man was gritting his teeth. Well, he was gritting his teeth as well.
    Alec strode down the winding path. In her blazing gown of red, it was easy to spot her. He knew the exact moment she heard him. She whirled and stared him down every bit as much as her uncle had, he noted with a faint annoyance.
    “Lady Maura,” he drawled. He executed a deep, exaggerated bow—
    And felt the sting of a slap the instant he straightened upright.
    His jaw clenched. He leveled a gaze on her that would surely have made many a man fall back.
    “What was that for?”
    “For saying that…that I…”
    “That you were amenable to my advances?”
    “Aye!”
    “I fail to see why I should be chastised for speaking the truth.”
    She glared at him but said nothing.
    “Anything else you wish to say, Lady Maura?”
    “As a matter of fact, yes! Was it necessary to…to…”
    “To defer to you regarding the details of our night together?”
    “Yes!” she hissed.
    “I thought it only appropriate, since in all truth I remember quite well what we did with our clothes on…but not off.”
    The way she swallowed didn’t escape his notice. He was right, he decided blackly. He was being played like a pawn, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.
    “Ah. I see you do remember. Indeed, I recall quite vividly hearing you moan when I bared your breasts. It came the instant you felt my mouth on your—”
    Her hand shot up. Alec caught her by the wrist, thwarting her. His other arm banded around her waist. He shook his head. “You should cease your hostilities, I think. After all, I came to tell you the news.”
    He could feel the way her chest rose and fell, the way her breathing quickened. He held her fast.
    Little by little her eyes inched up to his. “What news?” she asked, her voice very low.
    He bent his head so his lips just brushed her ear. “Congratulations, Irish. I came here for a bit of angling and caught myself a bride. And you—well, you’ve just snared yourself a Scotsman.”

Chapter Six
    On her wedding day, Maura woke to the sweet sound of birdsong. She lay very still, listening as the birds trilled and whistled and sang to each other just