The Highlander's Accidental Bride Read Free Page A

wildly about the room, looking for the man who had dragged her into this nightmare.
    Spying the door across the room, she rushed to the thick-hewn portal. After a moment of panic when the bolt resisted her efforts, she managed to drag the heavy door open. She ran into the hallway and stopped, unsure how to proceed. Voices rose from the great hall below, but she could not tell if her husband’s was among them.
    My husband! The words shot through her like a bolt of lightning, white-hot and frightening. Fresh panic sent her fleeing down the narrow hall, overwhelmed with the need to find some safe place. Catching the sound of footsteps coming up the back stairs, she whirled with the blind fear of a hunted rabbit, and ran hard against a solid wall of linen-covered flesh and muscle.
    Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the tall, dark-haired man looming over her. Eaden ? She blinked. No, not Eaden, but his brother, Ranald, though the two were nearly alike enough to be twins.
    “Easy, lass.” His big hands grasped her upper arms, steadying her as she rocked back on her heels.
    Her husband and Ranald were less alike than she’d thought. Eaden hadn’t said a single kind word to her since he’d dragged her here, and his grip on her arm the night before had been angry and impersonal. Punishing.
    Ranald’s steadying hands and gentle words struck through the horror awakened in her only moments ago, and she blurted the terrifying words. “My name isn’t Miriam!”
    Ranald gave Eaden’s new bride a puzzled look, noting the wildness in her eyes, tears sparkling in their emerald depths. “What?”
    She blinked again, unshed tears magnifying her eyes, intensifying their color until he became mesmerized, wanting to protect her from whatever frightened her.
    “My name is Mary.” Her voice was an anguished whisper, the look on her face begging him to understand.
    “Mary, Miriam.” He shrugged, breaking free of his trance. “Whatever milady wishes.”
    The young woman stomped her foot impatiently. “No! You’re not listening. My name is not Lady Miriam Barde. I am Mary Marsh, her companion.”
    Ranald’s eyes widened as his breath left him in a loud whoosh of sound. It was no secret Laird Barde’s daughter had haughtily scorned marriage to her father’s enemy. Now the marriage was done, how far would she go to be free? Perhaps she teetered on the verge of hysteria. But was she lying?
    He motioned for her to return to her room. Whatever she was up to, it wouldn’t do for the servants to overhear their conversation. She turned with obvious reluctance and did as he asked. Following her, he closed the door softly behind them.
    She crossed the room and stood by the window, staring out at the late spring day. The morning light silhouetted her slender body through the thin night shift she wore. Ranald pulled himself together with a jerk, hoping she hadn’t noticed his gaze. Turning away, he sought something suitable to wrap her in.
    He spied the rumpled coverlet on the floor and picked it up with relief. He shook it out, noticed the bloodstains on the silken surface, and halted mid-action. Wincing at the reminder the lass was now his brother’s wife, he dropped the ruined coverlet back to the floor and crossed the room.
    Disentangling the thin blanket from the sheets beside the bed, he draped the soft silk over her shoulders. “Here. `Twill keep ye warm.”
    She absently accepted the fabric, cinching it tight around her, as though protecting herself from something. From him? He frowned and discarded the thought. More likely his angry brother, who had spent less than two minutes wooing his young bride the night before. Perhaps it would ease her mind to know Eaden was no longer at Scott Castle.
    “Ye can rest easy, milady.” Ranald took up his position beside the door. “Eaden left last night for Dundonald Castle, Troon.”
    The girl turned to glance at him over her shoulder. “Why would he go there?”
    “To tell