Saving Grace

Chapter 5

His mama should have named him Lucifer. Johanna came to that conclusion by the end of the day. Barbarian or Savage would have been suitable alternative names, she thought to herself. Her husband had the devil inside him with his arrogant, high-handed orders. The man was also completely devoid of all civilized manners.

Didn't he know it wasn't polite to fight on his wedding day?

Oh, Gabriel started out pleasant enough. As soon as Father MacKechnie gave the final blessing and the mass was over, her new husband turned her to face him. He was handed a beautiful multicolored plaid. It matched the one he was wearing. He draped the long, narrow cloth over her right shoulder. A second plaid made with different tones was draped over her left shoulder. The first, her husband explained, was the MacBain plaid; the second, the Maclaurin. He waited until she nodded understanding, then pulled her into his arms and kissed the breath right out of her.

She had expected only a quick peck. She got ravaged. MacBain's mouth was hard and hot. The heat the passionate kiss sparked made her cheeks turn pink. She considered pulling away, then gave up the idea. The kiss became so consuming, she didn't have the strength or the inclination.

The laughter in the background finally caught Gabriel's attention. He abruptly ended the kiss, nodded with satisfaction when he saw the bemused expression on his bride's face, and then turned his attention to the priest.

She wasn't as quick to recover. She sagged into her husband's side.

Father MacKechnie hurried around the side of the altar to give his congratulations. "Well now, that was a fine wedding ceremony," he announced.

Alex wiggled his way between his father and Johanna. She felt him tugging on her skirts and smiled at the child.

The priest drew her attention again with a snort of laughter. "For a minute there, I didn't believe we'd get it done."

Both her husband and the priest looked at Johanna. She smiled back. "I never doubted," she remarked. "Once I make up my mind to do something, I get it done."

Neither man looked as though he believed the boast. The priest pulled Alex away from Johanna's skirts and moved him to stand on his father's left. "Shall we begin the receiving line?" he suggested. "The clan will want to come forward to offer their good wishes."

Gabriel continued to stare at his bride. He acted as though he wanted to tell her something but couldn't get the words out.

"Did you wish to say something to me, Gabriel?"

"Don't call me that. I dislike the name."

"But it's a fine name."

He grunted. She tried not to take exception to that rather barbaric sound. "You should be proud to have such a grand name."

He grunted again. She gave up. "What should I call you?" she asked him, trying to be accommodating.

"Laird," he suggested.

He didn't look like he was jesting with her. She wasn't about to agree with his suggestion. It was ridiculous for a husband and wife to use such formal names. She decided to use diplomacy to gain his cooperation, for she didn't believe defiance would work now.

"But when we're alone?" she asked. "May I call you Gabriel then?"

"No."

"Then what…"

"If you must address me, call me… call me MacBain. Aye, that name will do."

"If I must address you? Have you any idea how arrogant you sound?"

He shrugged. "No, but it's good of you to say I'm arrogant."

"No, it isn't."

He was through discussing the topic. "You were right to include the boy."

Because he'd sounded so gruff and because she was still reacting to the ludicrous suggestion that she call him MacBain, it took a full minute for her to realize he was actually thanking her.

She wasn't certain how to respond. She nodded, then said, "He should have had a proper bath before the ceremony."

MacBain tried not to smile. He really shouldn't let her get away with such open rebukes, but God's truth, he was so pleased to see she had some spirit inside her, he didn't chastise her.

"Next time I'll see that he does."

It didn't take any time at all for his barb to hit. The implication that he would marry again wasn't lost on her.

"You like having the last word, don't you, Laird?"

"Aye, I do," he admitted with a grin.

Alex, his father noticed, was staring up at Johanna with a look of rapture on his face. The priest had moved him to the side for the receiving line, but the boy had already squeezed himself next to Johanna again.

His bride had won over the boy in a matter of minutes. MacBain found himself wondering how long it would take him to win her affections. It was a foolish thought. Why did he care how she felt about him? The marriage had secured him the land, and that was all that mattered.

The soldiers from both clans came forward, one by one, to introduce themselves to Johanna and to give their laird their congratulations. The women came forward next. One young red-haired lady who introduced herself as Leila from the Maclaurin clan handed Johanna a beautiful bouquet of purple and white flowers. She thanked the woman for her gift and thought to add the flowers to the nosegay she'd been gripping in her other hand. When she saw the mess she'd made of the flowers Father MacKechnie had given her, she burst into laughter. The flowers were gone. Had she been holding a bouquet of stems throughout the ceremony?

Alex was fidgety by the time the introductions were finished. The women hurried back and forth across the courtyard with trays of food to put out on the tables the men were assembling. Gabriel was deep in conversation with two Maclaurin soldiers.

Johanna turned to Calum and Keith. "There are six horses in the meadow below," she began.

"One's to be my very own," Alex blurted out.

MacBain heard his son's comment and turned back to look at Johanna. His smile was devilish. "So that is how you won him over," he remarked.

She ignored her husband and kept her attention on the soldiers. "They are my wedding gift to my husband… and Alex," she hastily included. "Will you please send someone to fetch them?"

The soldiers bowed and went to see the task completed. Alex tugged on the hem of Johanna's bliaut to get her attention.

"Did Papa give you a gift?"

His father answered his question. "Nay, I didn't, Alex."

She contradicted him. "Yes, he did, Alex."

"What did he give you?" the little boy asked.

MacBain was also curious to hear what she had to say. She was smiling at Alex.

"He gave me a son."

MacBain was taken aback by her declaration. His son wasn't certain what she'd meant.

"But I'm his son," he declared. He pointed at his chest so she would be sure to understand.

"Yes," Johanna answered.

The boy smiled. "Is a son better than six horses?"

"Of course."

"Better than even a hundred?"

"Yes."

Alex was convinced of his importance. His chest puffed up with pride.

"How old are you?" Johanna asked.

He opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. From the puzzled look on his face, she assumed he didn't know. She turned to her husband to get her answer. He shrugged. He obviously didn't know either.

She was appalled. "You don't know your son's age?"

"He's young," MacBain answered.

Alex immediately nodded agreement over his father's announcement. "I'm young," he repeated. "Papa, could I go look at the horses?"

Gabriel nodded. His son let go of Johanna's bliaut and went chasing after Calum and Keith.

Father MacKechnie had witnessed the scene between the child and Johanna. "The lad's taken with her, isn't he?" he remarked to the laird as he watched Alex run across the yard.

"She bribed him," MacBain drawled out.

"Yes, I did," Johanna agreed.

"Men aren't so easily won over," her husband remarked.

"I'm not interested in winning any man over, Laird. Please excuse me. I would like to talk to my brother."

It was a wonderful dismissal, yet completely ruined when Gabriel grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her back.

Nicholas had to come to her. He was surrounded by women, of course, because of his handsome looks and his gift for charm, and Johanna had to wait several minutes before her brother noticed her motioning to him and disengaged himself from his admirers.

Nicholas addressed MacBain first. "I'll be sending men here in a month or two to help with the rebuilding."

MacBain shook his head. "You will not send any soldiers here. We'll kill them the minute they set foot on our land."

"You're a stubborn man, MacBain."

"How much was the fine you paid to your king?"

"What fine?" Johanna asked.

Both Nicholas and Gabriel ignored her question. Her brother gave MacBain the sum. Gabriel announced he would reimburse the baron for the expense.

Johanna finally caught on. She turned to her brother. "Do you mean to say our king made you pay a fine? Why, Nicholas?"

"Because we chose your husband, Johanna. He agreed… for a price."

"If I'd agreed to marry his choice?" she prodded.

"Williams?" Nicholas asked.

She nodded.

"Then there wouldn't have been a fine, of course."

"You lied to me. You told me you didn't have enough coins to loan me to pay the tax to John so I could remain free for one more year's time."

Nicholas let out a sigh. "I did lie," he admitted. "You were putting off the inevitable, and I was concerned about your safety. Damn it all, you were held prisoner in London. I couldn't be certain you'd be safe for long, and there was also the worry John might give the Maclaurin land to someone else."

She knew he was right. She knew he loved her, too, and was thinking only about her safety. "I forgive you your deception, Nicholas."

"Go home, Baron. Don't come back. You've done your duty. Johanna is my responsibility now."

Johanna was stunned by her husband's rudeness. "Now?" she blurted out. "You want him to go home now?"

"Now," her husband repeated.

"My brother…"

"He isn't your brother."

She was so outraged by his behavior, she felt like screaming. Her husband wasn't paying her any attention now. His gaze was directed on Nicholas.

"I should have known," he said. "You don't look like brother and sister, and when Johanna gave the priest her full name, I realized you weren't related. Your feelings for her-"

Nicholas wouldn't let MacBain continue. "You're very astute," he interrupted. "Johanna doesn't have any inkling, Laird. Leave it be."

"Laird…"

"Leave us, Johanna. This discussion doesn't concern you."

His tone of voice didn't suggest she argue. She started wringing the petals off the fresh bouquet while she looked at the grim expression on each man's face.

She didn't have to make up her mind to leave or stay. Father MacKechnie had heard enough to know a fight was brewing. He took hold of Johanna's arm, feigned enthusiasm, and said, "You'll be hurting the women's feelings if you don't taste their special dishes. Come along now. They'll fret until they get a wee bit of praise from their new mistress. Do you remember how to say thank you in Gaelic?"

The priest half-dragged, half-nudged her away from the two men. Johanna kept looking back over her shoulder to see what was happening. Nicholas looked furious. So did MacBain. Her husband, she noticed, was doing most of the talking. Nicholas happened to glance her way, noticed she was watching him, and then said something to MacBain, Her husband nodded. The two men turned and disappeared down the slope.

She didn't see either one of them again until the sun was fading from the sky. She let out a loud sigh of relief when she spotted her husband and her brother coming back up the hill. Streaks of orange from the sun's descent filled the sky behind them. Their silhouettes, made black by the distance and the sun's trickery, made them appear mystical. They seemed to rise out of the earth like mighty, invincible godlike warriors. They moved with such easy grace.

They were the fittest warriors she'd ever seen. The archangel Gabriel was surely smiling down at the pair. They were, after all, surely fashioned in his image.

Johanna smiled over her fanciful thoughts. Then she got a good look at their faces. She let out a horrified gasp. Nicholas had a bloody nose. His right eye was swollen shut. MacBain didn't appear to be in any better condition.

Blood poured down from a cut high on his forehead. There was another cut seeping blood at the corner of his mouth.

She didn't know who to yell at first. She instinctively thought to run to Nicholas and give him holy hell while she measured the extent of his injuries, but by the time she'd lifted the hem of her skirts and started running, she realized she should probably go to Gabriel first. He was her husband now, and he should come first in her thoughts. There was also the fact that, if she was able to soothe his temper, he might be more willing to listen to reason and allow her brother to stay a few more days.

"You've been fighting."

She shouted the accusation when she reached her husband. He didn't believe he needed to agree. It was damned obvious they'd been fighting, and he didn't particularly care for the anger in her voice.

Johanna pulled the linen square she kept tucked in the sleeve of her gown and stretched up on tiptoe to pat the blood away from the cut so she could see how deep the injury was. She gently brushed his hair back, out of her way.

He jerked his head back. He wasn't used to anyone fretting over him, and he didn't know how to react.

"Do stand still, m'lord," she ordered. "I'm not going to hurt you."

MacBain stood still and allowed her to fuss over him. Damn, but she pleased him, though not because she was acting concerned about him now. Nay, it was the fact that she'd come to him first.

"Have you resolved whatever was bothering you?" she asked.

"I have," MacBain answered. He sounded surly.

She looked over at her brother. "And you, Nicholas?"

"Yes." His tone was every bit as irritated as her husband's.

She turned back to her husband. "Why did you deliberately provoke Nicholas? He is my brother, you know," she added with a nod. "My parents took him in when he was just eight years old. He was there when I was born and has been called brother by me from the moment I could speak. You owe him an apology, husband."

MacBain ignored her suggestion and grabbed hold of her wrist so she would stop poking at his cut, then turned to Nicholas.

"Say your good-byes now," he ordered. "You won't see her again."

"No!" Johanna cried out. She pulled away from her husband and ran to her brother. She threw herself into his arms.

"You didn't tell me the truth about him," she whispered. "He isn't a gentle man. He's hard and cruel. I can't bear the thought of never seeing you again. I love you. You protected me when no one else would. You believed in me. Nicholas, please take me home with you. I don't wish to stay here."

"Hush, Johanna. It's going to be all right. MacBain has good reason for wanting me and my men to stay away from here. Learn to trust him."

Nicholas held MacBain's gaze while he gave his sister his instructions.

"Why doesn't he want you to come back?"

Nicholas shook his head. His silence told her he wasn't going to explain. "What message would you like me to give Mother? I'll see her next month."

"I'm going home with you."

Her brother's smile was filled with tenderness. "You're married now. This is your home. You have to stay with your husband, Johanna."

She wouldn't let go of him. Nicholas leaned down, kissed her forehead, and then pulled her hands away from him. He gently nudged her toward her husband.

"Treat her well, MacBain, or by all that's holy, I'll come back here and kill you."

"That would be your right," MacBain answered. He walked past Johanna to slap his hand against Nicholas's. "You and I have come to an understanding. My word is my bond, Baron."

"As my word is my bond, Laird."

The two men nodded. Johanna stood there with tears streaming down her face as she watched her brother walk away. His mount had already been made ready for him. Nicholas gained his stallion's back, then rode down the hill and out of sight. He never looked back.

Johanna turned around and found that her husband had also left. She was suddenly alone. She stood at the edge of the clearing feeling as bleak and desolate as her surroundings. She didn't move until the sun had disappeared from the sky. The bone-chilling wind finally gained her attention. She shivered with the cold and rubbed her arms as she slowly made her way back to the courtyard. There wasn't a Scot in sight, or so she thought, until she reached the center of the clearing. She saw her husband then. He was leaning against the door to the keep, watching her.

Johanna wiped the tears away from her face, straightened her appearance, and hurried forward. She climbed the steps with only one intention. Childish though it probably was, she was determined to tell him how much she disliked him.

She never got the chance. MacBain waited until she was close enough, then pulled her into his arms. He held her tight against his chest, dropped his chin to rest on the top of her head, and hugged her.

The man was actually trying to comfort her. His actions thoroughly confused her. He had been the one, after all, to cause her this upset. Yet now he was trying to soothe her.

Damn it all, it was working. She knew she was overly exhausted from the long, difficult day, and surely that was the reason she didn't try to pull away from him. He was wonderfully warm; she told herself she needed his heat to chase away the cold. She was still going to give him hell, but she'd wait until she was warm first.

Gabriel held her for several minutes while he patiently waited for her to regain her composure.

She finally pulled away from him. "Your rudeness toward my brother made me most unhappy, m'lord."

She hoped for an apology. She realized after a minute of waiting, she wasn't going to get one.

"I would like to go to bed now," she announced. "I'm very sleepy. Would you please show me the way back to my cottage? I'm not certain where it is in the darkness."

"The cottage you slept in last night belongs to one of the MacBains. You won't sleep there again."

"Then where do I sleep?"

"Inside," he answered. "There are two chambers above the stairs. The Maclaurins were able to stop the fire before it reached the steps."

He pulled the door wide and motioned for her to go inside. She didn't move.

"May I ask you something, m'lord?"

She waited for his nod, then said, "Someday will you explain why you sent my brother away and ordered him never to return?"

"In time you'll understand," he answered. "But if you don't, I'll be happy to explain."

"Thank you."

"I can be accommodating, Johanna."

She didn't snort because it wouldn't have been ladylike. The look in her eyes told him she didn't believe him.

"I released your brother from a burden, wife."

"And I was his burden?"

Gabriel shook his head. "No, you weren't his burden," he answered. "Go inside now."

She decided to obey his command. The woman who had handed her the fresh bouquet of flowers after the wedding ceremony was standing at the foot of the stairs.

"Johanna, this is…"

She didn't let her husband finish. "Leila," she said. "Thank you again for the beautiful flowers. It was most thoughtful of you."

"You're very welcome, m'lady," the woman replied. She had a soft, musical voice and a pleasing smile. Her hair was as red as fire and every bit as mesmerizing. Johanna guessed her age to be near her own.

"Was it difficult for you to leave your family and friends to come here?" Leila asked.

"There were no friends close by," Johanna answered.

"What about your staff? Our laird surely would have granted you permission to bring your lady's maid."

Johanna didn't know how to answer the question. She barely knew her staff. Raulf had changed the household every other month. At first she believed he was just overly demanding. Later she caught on. He wanted to keep her isolated, without anyone to confide in. She was to depend only upon him. After his death, she'd been forced to London and hadn't formed any attachments while a prisoner in King John's court.

"I would not have allowed any other Englishwoman here," MacBain said when Johanna hesitated in giving her answer.

"They were content to stay in England," Johanna interjected.

Leila nodded, then turned and started up the steps. Johanna followed her.

"Do you think you'll be happy here?" she asked over her shoulder.

"Oh, yes," Johanna answered, praying she was right. "I'll be safe here."

MacBain frowned. Johanna had no idea how much that comment said about her past. He stood at the bottom of the steps, watching his bride.

Leila wasn't as astute as her laird. "But I asked you if you'd be happy," she said with a bit of laughter in her voice. "Of course you'll be safe here. Our laird will protect you."

She could take care of herself, Johanna thought. She didn't tell Leila that, however, for she didn't want the woman to think she wasn't grateful to have the laird's protection. She turned around to look at her husband.

"Good night, m'lord."

"Good night, Johanna."

Johanna followed Leila up the rest of the steps. The landing was partially blocked by a stack of wooden crates on the left so no one would pitch over into the great hall or the hallway below. A narrow corridor was on the opposite side. There were candles perched inside bronzed holders braced against the wall to light the way. Leila started telling Johanna about the keep and begged her to ask questions that came to mind. Another woman named Megan waited inside the first chamber with a bath ready for Johanna. She had dark brown hair and hazel eyes and also wore the Maclaurin plaid. Her smile was just as inviting as Leila's.

Their easy acceptance of Johanna helped her relax. The bath felt wonderful. She told them how thoughtful they were to think she would enjoy the luxury.

"Our laird ordered the bath for you," Megan explained. "Since a MacBain gave up his bed for you last night, it was the Maclaurins' turn to do something for you."

"It was only fair," Leila added.

Before Johanna could ask what she meant by that remark, Megan turned the topic. She wanted to talk about the wedding. "You looked so beautiful, m'lady. Did you do the embroidery work on your dress? It was quite lovely."

"Of course she didn't do the work herself," Leila said. "Her maid…"

"But I did do the sewing," Johanna interjected.

The conversation continued all during her bath. Johanna finally bid the ladies good night and went down the hall to the second chamber.

The room was warm inside and very appealing. There was a hearth against the outside wall, a huge bed draped with the MacBain plaid along the opposite wall, and a window overlooking the meadow below. A thick fur covering on the window blocked the night winds, and that protection, added to the fire blazing away in the hearth, made the room most inviting.

The bed all but swallowed her up. She imagined four people could sleep under the covers together side by side without touching each other. Her feet were cold, but that was the only discomfort she felt. She considered getting out of her bed in search of a pair of woolen stockings, then decided the task would require too much effort. She probably should have taken the time to braid her hair, she thought with a loud yawn. It was going to be full of tangles in the morning. She decided she was too tired to care. She closed her eyes, said her prayers, and went to sleep.

The door opened just as she was drifting off. Her mind didn't register what was happening until she felt the side of the bed sag. She slowly opened her eyes. It was all right, she told herself. It was Gabriel and not an intruder sitting on the side of the bed.

He was taking his boots off. She tried not to be alarmed. "What are you doing, m'lord?"

Her voice was a groggy whisper. He looked over his shoulder to answer her. "I'm getting ready for bed."

She closed her eyes again. He thought she'd gone back to sleep. MacBain sat there staring down at her for several minutes. She rested on her side, facing him. Her hair, as golden as a sunset, was spread over her shoulders like a coverlet. She looked exquisite to him. Innocent and fragile as well. She was much younger than he'd supposed she would be, and after he and Nicholas had resolved their differences and the baron had wisely decided to obey his commands, he'd asked him exactly how old his sister was. Nicholas couldn't remember the date of her birth, but he'd said she'd been little more than a child when her parents received the order from King John to marry her to his favored baron.

Johanna suddenly bolted upright in the bed. "Here? You think to sleep here, m'lord?"

She'd choked on the question. He nodded, wondering why she looked so panic-stricken.

Her mouth dropped open. She was too stunned to speak. Gabriel stood up, untied the piece of leather holding his plaid in place, then tossed the strip of leather on the nearby chair. His plaid dropped to the floor.

He was stark naked. She squeezed her eyes shut. "Gabriel…" His name came out in a low whisper.

She'd closed her eyes, but not before she'd gotten a thorough look at his backside. It was enough to make her feel fainthearted. The man was bronzed from the sun from neck to ankles, and how in heaven's name was that possible? Did he walk around without a stitch on during the sunlight hours?

She wasn't about to ask him. She felt the covers being pulled back, then felt the sag of the bed again as he stretched out beside her. He started to reach for her.

She bounded to her knees and turned around to face him. He was on his back and hadn't bothered to cover himself.

She grabbed hold of the blanket and fairly tossed it over his middle. She could feel her face burning with embarrassment.

"You've been tricked, m'lord. Aye, you have!" she blurted out in a near shout.

Gabriel didn't know what in God's name had come over her. She looked terrified. Her eyes filled with tears, and he wouldn't have been surprised if she'd burst into sobs.

"How was I tricked?" He'd deliberately kept his voice calm and low. He stacked his hands behind his head and acted as though he had all the time in the world to wait for her answer.

His casual attitude helped to calm her. She took a deep breath, then said, "My brother didn't tell you. He said he had explained… Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I should have made certain you knew. When I found out you already had a son, I thought you knew about me and that it didn't matter. You had an heir. You…"

Gabriel reached up and put his hand over her mouth. Tears were streaming down her face. He kept his voice soothing when he said, "Your brother's an honorable man."

She nodded. He removed his hand from her mouth, then gently tugged her down next to him. "Yes, Nicholas is an honorable man," she whispered.

The side of her face rested on his shoulder. He could feel her tears as they dropped on his skin.

"Nicholas wouldn't trick me."

"I didn't think he would." She sounded bewildered.

A long minute passed while he waited for her to tell him what was bothering her.

"Perhaps he forgot to tell you… or thought he had."

"What did he forget to tell me?"

"I cannot have children."

He waited for her to continue. "And?" he asked when she didn't say another word.

She'd been holding her breath, waiting for his reaction. She thought he'd be furious. He didn't appear to be, however. He was casually stroking her arm. An angry man wouldn't caress. He would strike.

Johanna decided he didn't understand. "I'm barren," she whispered. "I thought Nicholas told you. If you want the marriage annulled, I'm sure that Father MacKechnie will see to the petition."

"Nicholas did tell me, Johanna."

She bolted up in the bed again. "He told you?" She looked thoroughly confused. "Then why are you here?"

"I'm here because I'm your husband and this is our wedding night It's a usual occurrence to share the bed."

"Do you mean you wish to sleep here tonight?"

"Damned right I mean to," he answered.

She looked incredulous now. "And every other night," he announced.

"Why?"

"Because I'm your husband," he explained.

He pulled her down next to him again, rolled to his side, and leaned over her. He gently brushed the hair away from the side of her face.

His touch was gentle and soothing. "Are you here just to sleep, m'lord?"

"No."

"Then you wish to…"

"Yes," he said, irritated by how horrified she looked now.

"Why?"

She really didn't understand. His own observation soothed his pride, but he couldn't control his exasperation with her. "Johanna, weren't you married for three years?"

She was trying not to stare into his eyes. It was a difficult task. They really were quite beautiful. The color was the purest of gray. He had nice high cheekbones, too, and a straight nose. He really was a handsome devil, and even though she tried not to care, her heartbeat reacted to his nearness. It was racing now. His scent was appealing, too. He smelled clean, male. His hair was damp. Gabriel had had a bath before coming to bed.

She shouldn't have thought that was nice. She did, though. She really should get hold of her undisciplined thoughts. What he looked like or how he smelled shouldn't matter.

"Are you going to answer me before daylight?"

She remembered his question. "I was married three years."

"Then how can you ask me if I want to sleep with you?"

His confusion didn't make any sense to her. "For what purpose? I can't have your children."

"You've mentioned that," he snapped. "There's another reason I want to bed you."

"What other reason?" she asked suspiciously.

"There's pleasure in the marriage act. Have you never experienced it before?"

"I don't know about pleasure, m'lord, but I'm most familiar with disappointment."

"Do you think I'll be disappointed, or do you believe you will be?"

"Both of us will be disappointed," she said. "Then you'll become angry. It's really for the better if you leave me alone."

He wasn't about to agree to that suggestion. She acted as though she had everything all figured out. He didn't need to ask where she'd gotten her opinions. It was apparent to him she'd been sorely mistreated by her first husband. She was so damned innocent and vulnerable. MacBain thought it a pity Raulf was dead. He would have liked to kill him.

He couldn't change the past for her, however. All he could do was concentrate on the present and their future together. He leaned down and kissed her brow. He was pleased to see she didn't flinch or try to turn away.

"Tonight is the first time for you-"

He was going to explain that it would be their first time together and that it would be a new beginning for both of them, but Johanna interrupted. "I'm not a virgin, m'lord. Raulf came to my bed many times during our first year as man and wife."

That statement caught his curiosity. He leaned back to look at her. "And after the first year?"

"He went to other women. He was most disappointed in me. Aren't there any women you could go to?"

She sounded enthusiastic over the possibility. He didn't know if he should be insulted or amused. Most wives didn't wish to share their husbands. Johanna looked eager enough to run outside and recruit a mistress for him. Hell, she'd probably give up her side of the bed, too.

"I don't want any other women."

"Why not?"

She had the gall to look disgruntled. He was having difficulty believing this bizarre conversation. He grinned and shook his head. "I want you," he insisted.

She let out a sigh. "I suppose it's your right."

"Yes, it is."

He pulled the covers away. She jerked them back in place. "Just one moment please," she said. "I would like to ask you an important question before you begin."

He frowned over her request. She turned her gaze to his chin so he wouldn't see how frightened she was becoming as she waited for his agreement or his denial.

"What is your question?"

"I would like to know what will happen when you're disappointed." She dared a quick look up into his eyes, then hastily added, "I would like to prepare myself."

"I won't be disappointed."

She didn't look as though she believed him.

"But when you are?" she persisted.

He held onto his patience. "Then I will have no one to blame but myself."

She stared at him a long minute before letting go of her death grip on the covers. While he watched, she folded her hands together on top of her stomach and closed her eyes. The look of resignation on her face made him shake his head in frustration.

It was inevitable, he supposed. Gabriel was going to get his way, and she was intelligent enough to know it.

She wasn't in a complete panic. She remembered the pain involved in the mating act; and although she certainly wasn't looking forward to the god-awful discomfort, it wouldn't be unbearable. It wouldn't kill her. She had gotten through the ordeal before, she reminded herself; she could get through it again. She would survive.

"All right, m'lord. I'm ready."

Lord, she was an exasperating woman. "Nay, Johanna," he countered in a low, gruff whisper.

He reached for the ribbon holding her gown in place and pulled the string free. "You aren't ready yet, but you will be. 'Tis my duty to make you want me, and I won't take you until you do."

She didn't show any outward reaction to his promise. God's truth, she looked as though she'd just been placed inside a wooden box. The only thing missing was a flower clutched between her rigid fingers, MacBain decided. Then he'd know for certain she was dead and about to be put in the ground.

He decided he was going to have to change his approach. His bride was alarmingly pale and as tense as the string on his bow right now. She was on guard against him. That fact didn't bother him overly much, for he understood her reasons, even if she didn't. He was going to have to wait until she had calmed down just a little. Then he would begin his gentle attack. His strategy wasn't complex. He was simply going to overwhelm her. Hopefully she wouldn't realize what was happening to her until it was too late. Her shields would be down; and once passion ignited, there wouldn't be much room in her mind for fear.

He'd already learned his bride was a gentle lady. The expression on her face when she'd been talking to his son before the wedding told him she was a compassionate, caring woman. He didn't know if she had a passionate nature, however, but he was determined to find out before either one of them left the bed.

MacBain leaned down, kissed her brow, and then rolled onto his back and closed his eyes.

Long minutes passed before she realized he was actually going to sleep. She turned to stare at him. Why had she been given this reprieve?

"Have I already disappointed you, m'lord?"

"No."

She continued to watch him, waiting for further explanation. He didn't say another word to appease her curiosity.

Not understanding his motives made her worry all the more. "What would you like me to do?" she asked.

"Take your shift off."

"And then?"

"Go to sleep. I won't touch you tonight."

His eyes were closed, and he, therefore, didn't see the change in her expression. He heard her sigh though, speculated it was due to relief, and couldn't help but become a little irritated with the woman. Hell, it was going to be a long, long night before he found satisfaction.

She couldn't make any sense out of his order. If he was going to leave her alone, why did he care if she wore a nightgown or not? Perhaps the command was just his way of saving face, she thought to herself. She wasn't about to argue with him, not now, not after she'd been given this wonderful gift.

Since his eyes were closed, she didn't have to concern herself with modesty. She got out of the bed, took her gown off, folded it neatly, then walked around to the other side of the bed to put the garment on the chair next to it His plaid was on the floor. She picked it up, folded it, and put it on top of her nightgown.

The air inside the chamber had become frigid, and the floorboards were freezing cold against her bare feet. She hurried to get back under the covers before her toes turned to ice.

His heat drew her close to his side, but she was careful not to touch him. She turned on her side, giving him her back, and ever so slowly edged closer and closer to him.

It took her a long time to relax. She was afraid to trust him, yet afraid not to because he was now her husband and deserved her trust, until he'd proven he wasn't worthy, of course. Nicholas trusted him. Her brother was the most honorable man she'd ever known, save for her father. Nicholas was also an excellent judge of character. He wouldn't have suggested she marry the laird if he didn't believe Gabriel was a good, decent man. There was also the telling fact that her husband hadn't forced himself on her. Why, he was actually being very accommodating.

The heat from his body radiated against her back. It felt wonderful. She moved just a little bit closer until the backs of her thighs touched the tops of his. She was sound asleep minutes later.

Gabriel decided he was going to get a high place in heaven no matter how mortal his past sins were and all because of the consideration he'd shown his bride tonight. Anticipation made his forehead break out in a cold sweat. Rolling in hot coals wouldn't have been as painful as this wait, he decided. He believed he could endure any amount of physical pain, but lying next to her with lustful thoughts raging through his mind now made this night one hell of a challenge. She wasn't helping matters much. She kept pressing her backside up against his groin. It was the sweetest torture he'd ever experienced and he had to clench his jaw tight against the provocation.

The fire burned down to embers in the hearth and it was well after midnight before he decided he'd waited long enough. He put his arm around Johanna's waist and leaned down to nuzzle the side of her neck. She awakened with a start. She went completely rigid, but only for a minute or two, and then she put her hand on top of his where it rested just below her breasts. She tried to push his hand away. He wouldn't move. She was groggy from sleep, and the wet kisses he placed on her neck were actually making her shiver with heat, not cold. It felt too good to worry about. Just to make certain he didn't think he was going to be allowed any more liberties, however, she laced her fingers through his to keep his hand from moving.

He knew what her plan was. He wasn't deterred. He teased her earlobe with his teeth, then with his tongue while he gently disengaged his hand from her hold and slowly began to caress the undersides of her full breasts with his knuckles.

The sensations coursing through her body were extremely pleasant, surprising, too. Odd, but his touch made her restless for just a little more. His breath was sweet and warm against her skin. She instinctively tried to get away from him and yet tried to get closer at the same time. Her body was contradicting her mind. Until she felt the hard evidence of his arousal. A tremor of panic took hold. She turned to him. She was going to demand he keep his word.

He had promised he wouldn't touch her tonight. Surely he hadn't forgotten.

"You promised you wouldn't touch me tonight."

He kissed the frown away from her brow. "I remember."

"Then…"

He kissed the bridge of her nose. Johanna suddenly found herself surrounded by his heat. He'd pinned her to the bed with his body and covered her from head to feet. His hard thighs rested between hers. His arousal was pressed intimately against the soft curls shielding the core of her femininity. The feel of his hard body against hers made her gasp with fear and pleasure.

"Gabriel…"

He threaded his fingers through her hair and cupped the sides of her face. He leaned down until he was just inches away from her. His gaze was settled on her mouth.

"It's past midnight, Johanna. I kept my word to you."

He didn't give her time to protest or panic. He silenced her with a kiss. His mouth was hard and hot as it settled on top of hers. His tongue swept inside to rid her of any argument she might have wanted to make.

Gabriel wanted her to forget her fears before her mind became ruled by them. No matter how much he wanted her, he knew he would never force himself on her. If Johanna couldn't get past her apprehensions tonight, then he would wait and try again tomorrow… and tomorrow… and tomorrow. In time she would surely learn to trust him and then hopefully rid herself of her own inhibitions.

The kiss wasn't tender, but ravenous and carnal. She wasn't resisting him and was, in fact, kissing him just as thoroughly. A low groan of pleasure sounded in the back of his throat when her tongue timidly brushed against his.

The sexy sound of approval made her a little bolder. She was so overwhelmed by her own reaction to the arousing loveplay, she could barely think. She rubbed her feet against his legs in a restless motion and tried to remember to breathe.

She tasted as good as he'd fantasized she would. His mouth slanted over hers again and again, and he didn't let up his assault against her defenses for a long while. He made love to her mouth with his tongue, slowly penetrating and then receding, forcing her to respond with his deliberate teasing.

He meant to overwhelm her, and overwhelmed she was. Within minutes she was trembling with desire. When his hands moved to her breasts and his thumbs brushed across her sensitive nipples, she let out a low moan of pleasure. She couldn't stop herself from arching up against his hands, deliberately trying to get a little more of his sweet torment.

He had to make her put her arms around him. Her hands were fists at her sides until he dragged his mouth away from hers and told her what he wanted her to do.

And still she didn't cooperate. He lifted his head to look at her. He smiled with pure male satisfaction then. Johanna looked dazed by what was happening to her. There was passion in her eyes. He lowered his head again. He gave her another open-mouthed, tongue-dueling kiss just to let her know how pleased he was with her and then took hold of her hands and put them around his neck.

"Hold onto me," he commanded in a rough whisper. "Pull me close."

She had the grip of a warrior. Gabriel slowly kissed a path to her chest. He palmed her breasts with his hands, then leaned down to take one nipple into his mouth. Her nails raked his shoulders in reaction. He grunted with raw pleasure.

Gabriel had been in complete control of the loveplay; but when his hand slid down her flat, smooth, silky belly and moved lower to touch her intimately, and he began to caress the very heat of her, he lost his own composure. The folds hidden beneath her soft curls were slick, wet, and incredibly hot. His thumb rubbed across the sensitive nub of flesh as his fingers slowly penetrated her…

She cried out in fear now, for the intensity of the pleasure he forced on her was new, too frightening for her to understand or control. She tried to push his hand away, even as her body contradicted that action to move restlessly against him.

Dear God, she didn't know her own mind. "Gabriel, what is happening to me?"

Her nails dug into his shoulder blades and her head rolled to the side as he continued his lovemaking. He shifted his position so he could soothe her with another kiss.

"It's all right," he whispered in a voice that sounded out of breath. "You like how this feels, don't you?"

He didn't give her time to answer him. His mouth took possession of hers again. His tongue moved inside just as his fingers plunged deep inside her tight sheath.

She came undone. Passion such as she'd never known before ignited in the pit of her stomach and spread like wildfire through her body. She clung to her husband, whimpering now, demanding with her slow, erotic movements to end the overwhelming bliss.

And still he held back. The pressure building inside him was almost unbearable. All he wanted to think about was sinking into her beckoning heat. He fought against the raging desire and continued to make love to her with his mouth and his fingers. When she suddenly tightened around him, he knew she was about to find her own release. He immediately shifted positions again so that his arousal was pressed against the opening of her sheath. He braced himself on his elbows, held her jaw with his hand, and demanded that she look at him.

"Say my name, Johanna."

His voice sounded harsh and angry. The intensity in his expression indicated his restraint.

"Gabriel," she whispered.

He kissed her quick and hard. He dragged his mouth away, looked down into her eyes, and demanded, "Now and forever. Say the words, wife. Say them now."

Every nerve in her body was screaming for release. He gripped her shoulders while he waited for her pledge.

"Now and forever, Gabriel."

His head dropped to her shoulder. With one powerful surge, he imbedded himself fully inside her. He was surrounded by liquid heat. Dear God, she was tight and so damned hot he could barely stand the sweet agony.

He couldn't stay still inside her, giving her body time to adjust to his invasion, and in the back of his mind was the worry he might be hurting her, yet he was powerless against the all-consuming demand of his own body now. His thrusts weren't measured but hard and urgent. She raised her knees to take him deeper inside. She surrounded him, squeezed him. He groaned with pure animal pleasure. It was exquisite agony. She became wild in his arms. She clung to her husband and met his demand by arching up against him. Her thighs tightened around him, and her whimpers, soft and incredibly sexy, drove him wild. He had never experienced such passion before. She held nothing back. Her complete surrender to him quickened his own. He didn't want it to be over. He slowly withdrew until he'd almost become separate from her, then sank back again.

Gabriel was mindless now to everything but giving her fulfillment and finding his own. His breathing was harsh and choppy, and when he felt the tremors of her climax and heard her call his name with a mixture of wonder and fear, he couldn't hold back any longer. He poured his seed into her with a loud, lusty groan,

Johanna's body seemed to splinter apart with her orgasm. She thought she'd died. Never in her wildest imaginings could she have thought such bliss was possible. It was the most shattering and wondrous of experiences.

She had actually allowed herself the freedom to give herself completely to Gabriel, and dear Lord, her reward had been most astonishing. Her husband had held her close and kept her safe during the raging storm, and the sheer beauty of their lovemaking made tears come to her eyes.

She was too exhausted to weep. He had certainly drained her of her strength. He collapsed on top of her. She thought that she might have taken all of his strength, too. Yet his weight didn't crush her. She realized then his arms were still braced at her sides. As physically spent as he appeared to be, he still sought to protect her.

The scent of their lovemaking filled the air around them. Their heartbeats pounded frantic beats.

Gabriel was the first to recover. His immediate concern was for his wife. God, had he hurt her? "Johanna?" He forced his strength back into his arms and lifted himself up so that he could look at her. The concern in his expression was evident. "Did I…"

Her laughter stopped his question. There was such joy in the sound, he couldn't help but smile in reaction. "Aye, you did," she whispered.

The woman was a puzzlement to him. "How can you laugh and cry at the same time?"

"I'm not crying."

He brushed his fingertips across one cheekbone to wipe the wetness away. "Aye, you are crying. Did I hurt you?"

She slowly shook her head. "I didn't know it could be like this between a man and a woman. It was very beautiful."

Those words made him nod with arrogant satisfaction. "You're a passionate woman, Johanna."

"I never knew I was… not until tonight. Gabriel, it was most enjoyable. You made me…"

She couldn't come up with the right word to describe how she'd felt. He was happy to supply it for her. "Burn?" She nodded. "I didn't realize some husbands liked to kiss and caress before mating," she said.

He leaned down, kissed her mouth, and then rolled onto his back, away from her. "It's called preparation, wife."

"It's nice," she whispered with a sigh. Raulf's idea of preparation was to pull the covers back. Johanna immediately blocked the memory. She didn't want to mar the beauty of what had just happened with ugly pictures from the past.

She didn't want Gabriel to go to sleep. God's truth, she wanted him to make love to her again. She couldn't believe her own boldness and had to shake her head over her own surprisingly wanton behavior.

Johanna pulled the covers up and closed her eyes. An unsettling thought began to nag her. Now that they had mated, shouldn't one of them leave? Raulf had always come to her bed, and, after he'd finished with her, immediately left. Since Gabriel was acting as though he was going to sleep, she decided it was her duty to leave him.

She wanted to stay, but the thought of being ordered to leave would sting her pride. It was better not to give him the chance to order her to go, she supposed. Johanna battled with the worry for several minutes.

Gabriel was having disconcerting thoughts of his own. His cunning plan to overwhelm his bride while her defenses were down had been turned around on him. Hell, she'd overwhelmed him. He'd never lost his discipline so thoroughly with any other woman, never, ever felt this vulnerable, and he began to wonder what she would do if she knew she had such power over him. He scowled just thinking about it.

Johanna moved to the side of the bed. She reached for her robe before she stood up. She kept her back to her husband while she put the garment on. Her shoes, she remembered, were near the door.

And still she hesitated to leave. She couldn't understand her own mind. She felt miserable now and lonely, and she couldn't imagine why she wanted to weep. Their lovemaking had been wonderful, yet now she was filled with new uncertainty. Nay, she didn't understand this change in her, but she imagined she would have the rest of the dark hours to think about it. She doubted she would get any sleep, and by morning light she would have worked herself up into a state of exhaustion.

Gabriel looked as though he'd already gone to sleep. She tried to be as quiet as possible as she made her way to the door. She was just reaching for the latch when he stopped her.

"Where do you think you're going?"

She turned to look at him. "To the other chamber, m'lord. I assumed that was where you wanted me to sleep."

"Come back here, Johanna."

She slowly walked back to his side of the bed. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"I wasn't asleep."

He reached for the belt of her robe. His voice sounded only mildly curious when he asked, "Why do you want to sleep alone?"

"I don't want to," she blurted out.

He used the sleeves of her robe to pull the garment off.

She was shivering with the cold. That observation amused him. He thought it was damned hot in the chamber. He pulled the cover back then and simply waited for her to get into bed again.

She didn't hesitate. She climbed over her husband. Gabriel put his arms around her and pulled her close. The side of her face rested on his shoulder. He pulled the covers up, let out a loud yawn, and then said, "You will sleep in this bed with me every night. Do you understand, Johanna?"

She bumped his chin when she nodded. "Is it usual in the Highlands for husbands and wives to sleep together?"

He gave her a roundabout answer. "It's going to be usual for you and me."

"Yes, m'lord."

Her whispered agreement, given so quickly, pleased him. He tightened his hold on his bride and closed his eyes.

"Gabriel?"

He grunted his reply.

"Are you pleased you married me?"

She was sorry she'd asked the question the minute the words were out of her mouth. Now he would know how vulnerable she was feeling and how horribly insecure she really was.

"The land belongs to me now. That pleases me."

He was a brutally honest man. She thought she should probably admire that trait. She didn't though, not tonight. She decided she wanted him to lie to her and to tell her he was happy to have her for his wife. God, she was becoming daft. She didn't want to be married to a man who would blatantly lie to her. No, of course she didn't.

She knew she wasn't making any sense. Surely exhaustion was the reason she was having such foolish, unimportant thoughts. What did she care if he wanted her or not? She had gained exactly what she had set out to gain when she married him. She was free from King John's tentacles. Yes, she was free… and safe.

She had gotten exactly what she'd bargained for, and so had he. The land now belonged to him.

"You're too soft. I should have preferred a strong, tough-skinned woman."

She was almost asleep when she heard his comment. Since she didn't know what to say in reply, she kept silent.

Another minute passed before he spoke again. "You're too tender for life here. I doubt you'll survive a full year. I probably should have preferred a more robust, unemotional woman. Aye, you won't last a full year here."

He didn't sound particularly disturbed by that possibility. She tried not to take exception. She wasn't going to try to talk him out of his opinions either. Arguing that she was indeed a very strong woman with every bit as much endurance as any of the Highland women would have been useless. Gabriel had already formed his opinions and only time together would prove to him she wasn't a summer flower. She really did have stamina. She had already proven to herself she was a survivor. In time she would prove it to him. "You're a timid lass. I probably should prefer a woman who was more forceful."

It took a supreme act of will to keep silent. She had asked him one simple question. A quick yes or no would have been sufficient answer. He seemed to be taking delight in listing her faults though. She could hear the laughter in his voice. Her husband, she was learning, was a bit rude.

"You have daft opinions. I should probably prefer a wife who always agreed with me."

She started drumming her fingers in irritation on his chest. He put his hand on top of hers to stop the telling action.

Johanna let out a loud yawn. It was a deliberate hint for him to let her go to sleep. A thoughtful husband would have ceased his litany of insults immediately.

Gabriel wasn't particularly thoughtful. "The least little thing frightens you," he remarked, remembering the expression on her face when she had first seen his wolfhound. "I should probably prefer a woman my hound would be afraid of," he added.

The heat radiating from his body made her drowsy. She draped one of her legs over his thighs and scooted closer.

"You're too thin by half," Gabriel said then. "The first northern wind will blow you over. I should probably prefer a big, strapping woman."

She was too sleepy to debate with her husband. Outrage took too much concentration. Johanna fell asleep listening to her husband as he continued to list her countless flaws.

"You're terribly naive, wife," he said when he remembered she had told him the year-round warm climate appealed to her. She had believed her brother's outrageous lie.

"Aye, you're naive all right," he said again.

Long minutes passed before Gabriel decided to finally answer her question.

"Johanna?"

She didn't answer him. He leaned down, kissed the top of her head, and then whispered, " 'Tis the truth, I am pleased I married you."