Saving Grace

Nicholas laughed. "Do you mean that, when I called you bastard in the heat of battle against Marshall, I wasn't being insulting but truthful?"

MacBain nodded. "I've killed others for calling me that name, Nicholas. Count yourself fortunate."

"You'll be the fortunate one if Joha

MacBain shook his head. "I want what rightfully belongs to me. If getting the land means marrying the shrew, I'll do it."

"Why would you believe she's a shrew?" Nicholas asked, puzzled by MacBain's conclusion.

"You've given me sufficient clues to her character," MacBain answered. "She's obviously a stubborn woman because she refused to confide in her brother when asked what information she has against her own king. She needs a man who will control her-those were your words to me, Nicholas, so don't look so surprised-and last, she happens to be barren. She sounds appealing, doesn't she?"

"Aye, she is appealing."

MacBain scoffed. "I don't relish my future as her husband, but you are correct, I will treat her kindly. I imagine we'll find a way to stay out of each other's paths."

The laird poured wine into two silver goblets and handed one to Nicholas. Each raised his drink in a salute and then downed the contents. Nicholas understood proper etiquette in the Highlands. He promptly belched. MacBain nodded approval.

"I suppose this means you'll be coming back here whenever the mood strikes you?"

Nicholas laughed. MacBain sounded damned forlorn over the possibility.

"I'll need several plaids to take back with me," he said then. "You wouldn't want anything to happen to your bride, would you?"

"I'll give you more than a few, Nicholas," MacBain countered. "I want at least thirty men riding escort. Each will wear my colors for protection. You'll dismiss them when you reach Rush Creek. Only you and your sister will be allowed on our land. Is that understood?"

"I was jesting about the plaids, laird. I can take care of my sister."

"You'll do as I order," MacBain commanded.

Nicholas gave in. The laird changed the topic then. "How long was Joha

"A little over three years. Joha

MacBain frowned. Nicholas suddenly smiled. "How does it rub knowing you're the answer to King John's prayer?"

The laird wasn't amused. "I get the land," he remarked. "That is all that matters."

Nicholas's attention was turned when MacBain's giant wolfhound came loping through the entrance. The beast was a fierce-looking thing with a brindle-colored coat and dark eyes. Nicholas thought it weighed almost as much as he did. The hound spotted Nicholas when he rounded the corner and bounded down the steps. He let out a low, menacing growl that made Nicholas's hair stand on end.

MacBain snapped a command in Gaelic. His monstrous pet immediately went to his side.

"A word of advice, MacBain. Hide that ugly gargoyle when I bring Joha

MacBain laughed. "Mark my words, Nicholas. I won't be denied. She will have me."

Chapter 3

"I won't have him, Nicholas. You must be out of your mind if you think I would even consider becoming his wife."

"Appearances are deceiving, Joha

She shook her head. Her hands were shaking so violently she almost dropped the reins to her mount. She tightened her hold on the leather straps and tried not to gape at the huge warrior… and the monstrous-looking animal leaning against his side.

They were nearing the courtyard of the desolate holding. The laird stood on the step leading up to the dilapidated keep. He didn't look particularly pleased by the sight of her.

She was sickened by the sight of him. She took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, then whispered, "What color are his eyes, Nicholas?"

Her brother didn't know.

"You saw kindness in his eyes, yet you didn't notice the color?"

She had him there and they both knew it. "Men don't notice such insignificant things," he defended.

"You told me he was a gentle man with a soft voice and a quick smile. He isn't smiling now, is he, Nicholas?"

"Now, Joha

"You lied to me."

"I did not lie to you," he argued. "MacBain saved my life not once but twice during the battle against Marshall and his men, and he refuses to even acknowledge it. He's a proud man but honorable. You must trust me on this. I wouldn't suggest you marry him unless I was convinced it would be a sound union."

Joha

Nicholas thought she was getting ready to faint. His mind raced for some clever thing to say to help her calm down.

"MacBain's the one on the left, Joha

She wasn't amused by his jest. "He's a very big man, isn't he?"

Her brother reached over to pat her hand. "He's no bigger than I am," he replied.

She pushed his hand away. She didn't want his comfort. She didn't want him to feel her trembling with cowardly fear either.

"Most wives would wish to have strong husbands to defend them. MacBain's size should be a comfort to you and a mark in his favor."

She shook her head. " 'Tis a mark against him," she a

She continued to stare at the laird. He seemed to be growing right before her eyes. The closer she got, the larger he became.

"He's handsome."

She blurted out her opinion in a voice that sounded like an accusation.

"If you think so," Nicholas decided to agree.

"'Tis another mark against him. I don't want to be married to a handsome man."

"You aren't making sense."

"I don't have to make sense. I've decided. I won't have him. Take me home, Nicholas. Now."

Nicholas jerked on the reins to stop her mount, then forced her to look at him. The fear he saw in her eyes made his heart ache. Only he knew the purgatory she'd endured while married to Raulf, and although she wouldn't speak of it, he knew what her real terror was now. His voice was low and fervent when he said, "Listen to me, Joha

She wasn't certain if she believed him or not. "I would never allow him to hurt me."

The vehemence in her reply made him smile with approval. Raulf hadn't been able to beat the spirit out of her. Nicholas counted that as a blessing.

"Think of all the reasons why you should marry him," he said. "You'll be away from King John and his cohorts, and they won't come here after you. You'll be safe here."

"There is that consideration."

"MacBain hates England and our king."

She nibbled on her lower lip. "That is another sound point in his favor," she admitted.

"This place, as bleak as it now looks, will one day be a paradise, and you'll have helped to rebuild it. You're needed here."

"Yes, I would help to rebuild," she said. "And I do long for warm weather. 'Tis the truth I only agreed to come here because you convinced me the land is much closer to the sun. I don't know why I hadn't realized that before. I must admit not having to wear a heavy cloak more than one month out of the year does have a wonderful appeal. You did say it was odd the weather was so chilly for this time of year."

Good God, he'd forgotten that little lie. Joha