Free Bedded by the Laird (Highland Warriors) by Rachael Kennedy Page A

do. He climbed out of the bath and threw
a log on the fire and then paced his chamber and wondered what more could be
done?
    Could he send
again for Morag, the wise woman?
    Did they deal with
such things?
     He opened
the drapes and dragged in air and then he saw a flash of white in the distance
and, with his heart in his mouth, he realised it was
Bridie moving across the grounds. He grabbed his plaid and wrapped it around
himself as he raced down the castle stairs, knew what she was intending, for he
had seen her eyes linger too long on the loch before Gracie was born.
    ‘Bridie…’ He
charged into battle, the most vital he had fought, for it was a battle for
Bridie’s life.  She was waist deep in the rushes when he glimpsed her
again and he sped across his land, not slowing as he neared the water, just
striding towards.
    ‘Bridie!’ He
roared, catching her by the hair and spinning her round to face him. Alasdair
saw the dull of her eyes and he wanted the fire back. His mood was not tender -
he had never been more angry, not even with Dougal ,
for he knew full well that, had he not been watching he’d have been woken with
the news that she was forever gone.
    ‘Bridie…’ he
hauled her back to land, shook her by the shoulders. ‘Did you not think of wee
Gracie… ’
    ‘Leave me…’ she
was trying to fight him off, to get back to the peace she had almost glimpsed.
‘She’d be better with me gone…’
    And he could not
stand to hear it, could no longer listen to the healer who said to give it
time, or to Mrs Moffat’s endless warning to be
gentle.
    ‘I’m not biding my
time anymore.’
    He threw her over
his shoulder carried her up to his chamber as she beat at his back to be freed,
and his temper had not receded an iota by the time they were there.
    ‘You’d throw
yourself into a loch would you?’ He sat on his bed and hauled her over his
knee. ‘You’re too dramatic Bridie, you’re too up or down. Well you’re coming
back to me right this minute - I’ll beat the life back into you if I have to,
so I will…’ He raised his hand and slapped.
    Through her wet
kirtle it stung and then he slapped her again and it stung even harder. In his
chambers, Bridie was starting to realise the madness
as to what she had done, but if he’d just let her explain she’d say she was
sorry, that she’d been wrong to do what she almost did.
    ‘Laird, please.’
    ‘Oh, please now is
it, lassie?’
    He slapped her
bottom again and saw her hands come to the back to stop him, but he brushed
them away, took them by the wrist, his elbow keeping her back firmly down.
    ‘Oh you don’t like
that?’ He said as she struggled.  ‘You don’t like a bit of pain… you’re fighting
now are you Bridie?’ He demanded as she yelped. ‘Well, fight some more, fight
for you life Bridie. How dare you think of leaving Gracie, leaving McClelland,
leaving me…
    ‘Laird…!’ She
begged.
    ‘Life is painful
sometimes…’ He lifted the wet cloth, slapped her bare buttocks and she felt the
warmth and the sting and yet there was pleasure there too, for she felt his
passion. ‘I’ll skelp your backside, for daring to
leave me.’
    And skelp it he did. ‘You’re not to think like that again.’ He
warned her. ‘You’re not going to the dark place, you’re staying here in
McClelland, here at your home, here with me…’
    ‘Laird, please…’
But the laird had not finished.
    ‘You will listen
to me lassie .., I love you, even if I cannae make you my wife, I will not lose you…’
    ‘Laird!’ Her hands
gave in defending themselves then, but happily so and as he loosened his grip
they dropped, she couldn’t breath now but for different reasons -  for the laird really loved her.
     ‘I love you
Bridie.’ She could hear his ragged breathing, and he turned her to him then,
pulled her fierce into his chest and held her, cold and wet in his arms, but
safe. Like a warm cloak wrapping around them, they found each other,