Julie Garwood: Saving Grace

"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 Johanna married?"

"A little over three years. Johanna would like to remain unmarried," Nicholas said. "But my sister's feelings are of no concern to John. He's kept her under lock and key in London. I've only been allowed a short visitation, and John was present all the while. As I told you earlier, my sister's a loose end he wants taken care of, MacBain."

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 Johanna here. She'll take one look at the two of you and turn right around and go back to England."

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

"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, Johanna," her brother countered. "Wait until we're closer. You'll surely notice the kindness in his eyes. MacBain will treat you well."

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, Johanna…"

"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."

Johanna didn't answer him. Panic was taking hold. Her gaze kept going back and forth between the huge warrior and the ugly beast.

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, Johanna."

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 announced.

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, Johanna. MacBain will never hurt you."

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. Johanna hated the cold and knew absolutely nothing about the Highlands. He'd deliberately deceived her in his attempt to get her safely out of England and now felt guilty as hell. He'd corrupted a man of the cloth, too, for he'd begged Father MacKechnie to go along with the fabrication.

The priest had his own motives for wanting Johanna to marry the MacBain laird and had held his silence each time Johanna mentioned the appeal of such a warm, sunny climate. He had, however, glared at Nicholas whenever the topic came up.

Nicholas let out a sigh. He guessed that when Johanna was knee deep in snow, she'd realize he'd lied to her. Hopefully by then her opinion of MacBain would have softened.

"Will he leave me alone, Nicholas?"

"Yes."

"You didn't tell him anything about my years with Raulf?"

"No, of course not. I wouldn't break my word to you."

She nodded. "And he knows, for certain, I cannot give him children?"

They'd been over that issue at least a dozen times on the journey up the hills. Nicholas didn't know what more he could say to reassure her. "He knows, Johanna."