Border Bride by Arnette Lamb

Author:Arnette Lamb
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781416507079
Publisher: Pocket
Published: 1993-08-31T14:00:00+00:00

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Chapter Twelve

Alpin stared at the exquisite embroidery on the canopy and couldn't help comparing it to the plain netting that draped her own simple bed at Paradise Plantation.

"You speak bitterly about your life so I'll feel sorry for you," Malcolm had said. "I am sorry, Alpin, that you had to steal food, but it's not my fault."

Malcolm's candid words rang in her ears. He had defended his wealth and accused her of judging him unfairly for living in the lap of luxury. He'd been correct, and now she understood her mistake. She couldn't help having been an orphan. He couldn't help having been born into the nobility. Still, she didn't think he'd be interested in the everyday struggles of her life.

"Are you suddenly shy about your life on the island?" he asked.

"No. I learned to bat mosquitoes and imagine snow."

Against her temple, he said, "Don't jest, Alpin. Tell me truly. What are the people there like?"

They were selfish, greedy men who encouraged their slaves to breed, or took it upon themselves to impregnate the women, then ignored the agony on the mother's face as her children were dragged to the auction block. Money was all the planters cared about. Alpin longed to explain the cruelty of the slave system, but Malcolm would only mock her beliefs, as he had that day in the barracks when she'd convinced him that he should not sell Paradise Plantation.

Now she was his handfast wife. Soon she would persuade him to give her Paradise. But she would guard her dream of liberating the slaves. "The men on the island aren't much different from my uncle. He was cruel, negligent, and unloving."

"Baron Sinclair was ill equipped to care for so large a family. He thought it his duty to take in every poor relation." He spat a curse. "I'm sorry, Alpin. I shouldn't have said that."

"You needn't apologize for telling the truth. I was a poor relation. But if you're going to defend my uncle, don't bother. He didn't care for me, but he taught me something in a crosswise fashion. I learned that a child should be watched over, loved, and respected."

Malcolm reached for a lock of her hair and curled it around his finger. "He refused to let you go to a workhouse."

His unexpected observation confused her. "What do you mean? What does that have to do with nurturing a young mind?"

"Well, for all his shortcomings, the baron took you in after your mother died. He didn't have to. He already had a houseful of responsibilities and no money to provide for them."

Alpin hadn't considered the baron's situation. At five years old she'd been eager for love and desperate for comfort. She'd received neither at Sinclair Manor. Now, lying naked in Malcolm's arms, her body still aglow with the aftereffects of their loving, she felt vulnerable. Acquiescence seemed the best road. "I suppose the baron did what he thought was right."

"'Tis odd," he said, glancing down at her, "that your father was from so large a clan as the MacKays and yet you came to live with your mother's family.

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