The Highlander's Defiant Captive by Anna Campbell

Author:Anna Campbell [Campbell, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anna Campbell
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Callum still felt sickened that kinswomen of his had tormented Bonny Mhairi without him knowing. Even worse, he should have expected something like this to happen. Sheena had been fluttering her eyelashes and swinging her hips in his direction since she'd moved into Achnasheen after her drunken father's death. She had her eye on a place as the lady of the glen, instead of remaining a penniless orphan. He believed Brigid when she said the older girl had instigated the campaign against Mhairi. But that was no excuse for her participation or for not telling Jean or him what was going on in his chambers. The memory of those vicious purple bruises marring Mhairi’s milk-white skin would haunt him.

Now he mounted the stairs to the tower room to escort Mhairi to the feast that marked her cousin’s departure on the morrow. Generally Callum wore the kilt here in his home, but on this formal occasion, he'd put on English dress. A fine bronze silk coat and knee breeches. His hair was pulled back in a queue.

He'd had an elaborate silk dress sent in to Mhairi, too. John Drummond needed to know that the Rose of Bruard was living in a luxury befitting her station. Given how gossip spread in the castle, he'd wager John had heard all about Callum carting Mhairi up the stairs for a ravishing after she’d thrown wine in his face. Also likely her kinsman now knew no ravishing had taken place. But his cousin’s undignified removal from the hall would still rankle.

Jean opened the door with a greeting that he hardly heard. Instead his gaze focused on the beautiful woman who stood in the center of the room, watching him with wide blue eyes. For once those eyes didn't flash hatred. Although for the life of him, he couldn't define the emotion that had replaced her defiance.

He should be used to his heart turning somersaults at the sight of Bonny Mhairi Drummond. The affliction seemed permanent and had begun the moment he stole her away from her father's lands.

Tonight his heart leaped high enough to lodge in his throat. By God, she was pretty. And braw. And smart. And just the woman for him, although he began to despair of her ever admitting that.

"Good evening, Mistress Drummond," he said with a bow. "Ye do me honor."

To his surprise, a blush tinged Mhairi’s cheeks as she glanced down at the elaborate brocade gown in dark blue and gold. It was a dress fit for the late Stuart Queen herself. When his parents had visited London, his mother had worn it for her court presentation.

Mhairi’s rich red hair was arranged in elaborate curls. She looked like the fine lady she was. He had a sudden vision of the ragged urchin he'd hauled across the hills to Achnasheen, and painful tenderness sliced at his heart. She’d been breathtakingly beautiful then, too.

"And ye almost look like a civilized man," she said dryly, although he noticed that the remark lacked its usual edge.

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