The Convenient Bride (Lions of the Black Isle Book 2)

  The Convenient Bride

  Book Two

  Lions of the Black Isles

  Sue-Ellen Welfonder & Tarah Scott

  USA Today and Bestselling Authors

  A Drakon Press Half Hour Read

  The Convenient Bride: Book Two Lions of the Black Isles

  Copyright © 2017 by Tarah Scott and Sue-Ellen Welfonder

  All rights reserved

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the authors, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  A Drakon Press Half Hour Read

  Cover Design: R Jackson Designs

  Cover Art: Period Images

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  The Forbidden Bride

  Dedication

  For the girls who refused to settle

  Chapter One

  What woman on her wedding day sees a man for who he truly is?

  Fiona Grant stared at the floor as her father led her up the narrow chapel aisle past the guests and halted at the altar, where Liam Munro stood before the priest who would bind them as man and wife for eternity. Her pulse quickened. If not for the conflict that had broken out between the Munros and the Patersons three years ago, she probably never would have met Liam. But his father made peace with her father after a five-year cattle grazing dispute and proposed an alliance that brought the Patersons to their knees.

  Liam’s offer of marriage three months past had shocked her, for her foolish heart had leapt at the possibility that he had fallen in love with her upon that first meeting, as she had him. Of course, he hadn’t. As a man, Liam Munro could have his choice of women—and no doubt had. As a Lion of the Black Isle, he needed a well-dowered bride to fill the family’s depleted coffers.

  Fiona hazarded a covert glance at Liam, and suddenly wished she had met with him a month ago as he’d requested. She’d feared if he guessed her feelings, he would withdraw his offer. After all, what need had a lion for the love of a convenient bride? She, however, was ashamed to admit that she would take Liam Munro on any terms. Now, that lion stood beside her at the altar. Mary, mother of God, give her strength.

  Her father kissed her cheek. “Courage, child,” he whispered in her ear, and left her standing with her betrothed.

  The priest began the benediction, nodding solemnly as they grasped hands. He looked past her, into the candlelit chapel and spoke in his deep, carrying voice. Moments later, he pronounced them man and wife.

  Liam shifted and Fiona started when he grasped her shoulders and turned her toward him. She lifted her gaze to his face. Shock reverberated through her. She hadn’t expected love, but neither had she expected the cold mask that stared down at her. He bent and brushed his lips across hers. Except for the warmth of his mouth, she discerned no other indication that he was made of flesh and blood.

  Fear lanced through Fiona. Did he hate her?

  He slid an arm around her waist and turned them toward the family and friends who’d crowded into the small chapel to witness their union. The throng was so great she wondered that Kernwith Castle’s walls didn’t burst. Beyond the chapel’s entry, folk jammed the passageway, all craning necks to see the ceremony—or the bride. She drew a calming breath in hopes of disguising the tremble that spread from her belly to her limbs. Liam started them down the aisle. His brothers fell in behind. They emerged into the corridor and descended two flights of stairs to the great hall, where revelers filled the room.

  A cheer went up. Fiona’s knees weakened. Courage. She clung to her father’s advice, willing herself to bravery. She had known for three months that she would marry Liam. She had no reason to feel shock that the marriage had come to pass. But the recrimination did nothing to ease the pounding of her heart caused by the flex of Liam’s fingers upon her waist.

  They finally made their way through the jostling, well-meaning crowd, reached the dais end of the hall, and gained the few steps with only a bit of elbowing needed to reach the lavishly-dressed high table. Liam waited until Fiona sat before lowering himself into the chair beside her. He filled their goblets with wine as his youngest brother claimed the seat to her right, and the other two took chairs to his left. Liam picked up his goblet, then looked questioningly at her. She realized he wanted her to drink first. She did, then he downed two gulps of his wine, which emptied his goblet. Surely he wasn’t nervous? A lump formed in her throat. Did he despise the idea of bedding her?

  Her father promised Liam a hundred hectares upon the birth of their firstborn son. She hoped that when she gave him the coveted heir, he might care for her. Liam Munro was a good man. He would protect her, care for her children, even respect her. Would that be enough?

  The scrape of chair legs against the dais floor cut into her worry as her father rose from his seat at the far end of the high table. A hush fell over the assembled company.

  “All hail the happy twain!” he shouted, and thrust his arms in the air. Cheers filled the crowded hall. “Many bairns and long years to Liam and Fiona. All hail the Munros! All hail the Grants!”

  Celebrants stamped their feet and pounded fists on tables in a deafening noise. Guests drank to her and Liam’s good fortune and tossed out suggestions for the wedding night that made her blush…and wonder. At length, the din lessened, ale and wine flowed liberally, and bellies filled. Pipers and fiddlers assembled beside a hastily cleared floor space and Fiona watched as couples soon whirled and leapt to the lively music.

  She chanced a covert glance at her new husband. What would it be like to share a single wild, Highland dance in his arms? Might he find pleasure in holding her close? Her throat went dry. Dance or no, she would soon find out. A cluster of determined, older clanswomen waited in the shadows beyond the dais, their purpose clear. They would escort her abovestairs, strip, bathe and perfume her in readiness for the bedding ceremony, which would end with Liam taking her maidenhead.

  As if they’d read her thoughts, the women started toward the dais. Fiona’s heart pounded. It seemed everyone’s eyes followed the women as they reached the table and pulled her to her feet. Fiona glanced at Liam, who ducked his head so she couldn’t see his face. She frowned. Was he laughing?

  When the women finally left Fiona alone in Liam’s bedchamber an hour later, she rose from his massive four-poster bed and seated herself before the hearth. Liam might celebrate well into the wee hours, yet she wouldn’t sleep a wink until he came to her. She’d spent countless hours wondering about her wedding night, his flesh against hers while he… Her stomach flipped. Some instinct she didn’t understand told her that Liam was a passionate man, and that passion would fill the void where his love should have been.

  Maybe.

  Chapter Two

  Liam stepped into his bedchamber, closed the door and slid the drawbar into place. If they were fortunate, the revelers would drink themselves into their cups before realizing he’d slipped away. He faced the room and froze at sight of his bride curled up on the rug in fron
t of the hearth where only embers flickered amongst the ashes. She would catch her death and her father would cut out his heart. Liam crossed to the rug that, in truth, was several old plaids stitched together. He scooped her into his arms.

  She started awake. “What in God’s name—” She broke off, eyes wide.

  He kept his gaze on her face, avoiding the full breasts straining against the white linen of her nightrail. Too late, the press of her lush body against his chest started the tightening of his cock. Liam cursed silently and strode to the bed, then laid her on the mattress. She dragged the covers over her body and watched him warily.

  He turned his back on her, sat on the mattress and unwound his plaid. He lifted his hips enough to pull the fabric free, then tossed it onto a nearby chair and flipped the blanket over him as he rolled onto his side, facing her. She didn’t scoot away as he’d feared she might.

  “Are ye well, lass?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  A sudden pounding shook the door. “Let us in, ye bastard,” shouted Giric, his cousin. “You snuck away when we were no’ looking.” The drawbar rattled under the large Highlander’s assault.

  By God, the bluidy stirk would break the damn door down. Liam leapt up and hurried across the room.

  “Be gone with ye,” he shouted through the door.

  “Open the door before we kick it in,” another man demanded.

  “The first of you loons to enter will feel my blade in his belly,” Liam warned.

  “He is a fair swordsman,” Giric’s voice carried through the thick oaken door planks.

  “Aye, but he willnae hurt us,” another said with a laugh.

  “Aye, but I will,” Liam snarled. “Try me at your peril.”

  More hoots and guffaws answered him, then followed a discussion as to who might be willing to take the sword before the others could wrest the weapon from him. In the end, they grumbled that there was no physician close enough to tend to them should Liam make good on his threat, and they grudgingly left, their laughter and footsteps echoing in the stair tower as they descended the stairs.

  Liam turned and caught sight of the tiny coals winking through the hearth ashes. He took three steps to the fire, and tossed more logs onto the embers. He started back to the bed, then slowed when he realized that Fiona’s gaze was fixed on his jutting cock. At least she hadn’t pulled the covers over her head. He reached the bed and slid in beneath the blankets, quickly stretching out beside her.

  “I am sorry, lass.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

  Liam pushed onto an elbow, looked down at her. “I regret we had no time to get to know each other before tonight.”

  “I could have visited,” she said in the sultry voice he remembered too well.

  “Why did ye no’?” he asked.

  “There was much preparation for the wedding.”

  She met his gaze squarely, but Liam sensed she left much unsaid. And why wouldn’t she? What woman wanted to marry the son of her father’s enemy, even if they had made peace?

  “Ye need no’ worry, lass.” He started to lift a hand to smooth his knuckles down her cheek, then thought better of it. “I understand ye need time to adjust before we consummate our marriage.”

  Her eyes widened again. “What? Ye mean— But then we are not truly wed.”

  Liam shook his head. “Never fear, everyone will believe we have done our duty.”

  Her mouth parted, as if she would say more, but Liam turned his back to her. Then he closed his eyes and willed his hardened cock to ignore the warmth of her body beside his.

  ***

  Fiona sat in the window seat and hugged her knees as she stared out at the light rain that fell in the darkness. The sun had yet to rise on this, the first day of her married life. She shifted her gaze to Liam. He still slept, his back to her. She’d lain awake all night, half expecting him to reach for her. His rejection stung. Did he not desire her even a little? She envisioned his engorged cock as it had been when a few hours past. Perhaps arousal was not the same as desire. Anxiety tightened the knot in her stomach and the question she’d grappled with all night rose again: what if he loved another?

  “How is it possible to fall in love with a man the moment you meet them?” she whispered.

  The light patter of early morning rain answered her.

  She couldn’t help a soft laugh. “You strode into my father’s hall, so handsome and bold, and my world upended. Perhaps it is best you not guess how easily you stole my heart.”

  Somewhere in the tower, a dog barked and she caught the rumble of a cart’s wheels across the bailey’s cobbles. Kernwith Castle was stirring. But here in her bridal chamber, all was quiet except for Liam’s snores, and her own blood rushing in her ears. She’d dreamed of his love. She’d expected to have his passion if not his heart.

  How sad that she had neither.

  Chapter Three

  Gloaming came after a long day of feasting, after hours of keeping a smile on her face as she stayed close to Liam and thanked kinsmen and guests for their well-wishes, praising the Munro servants for their hard work, and so much more. She had managed surprisingly well. What proved difficult was fighting the worry that someone would guess Liam hadn’t claimed his husbandly rights. But Fiona wouldn’t have guessed that that someone would be a stranger.

  Fiona, Liam, his brothers, and half a dozen male guests had gathered in the stables to inspect a gelding, a wedding present from Allan Rose. The aging leader had sent his daughter with the gift. The woman stood far too close to Liam for Fiona’s liking.

  “He is a beauty,” Liam told Emilia Rose.

  Fiona stood to Liam’s left, near the animal’s head, Emilia to his right. Liam ran a hand down the animal’s back and Emilia edged closer to Liam so that her considerable breast brushed the side of his arm. Fury swept through Fiona. How dare Emilia be so brazen with Liam—and on Fiona and Liam’s first day as man and wife. What possessed a woman to act so—

  Fiona’s anger froze. There was only one reason a woman would feel so emboldened; she and Liam already had a…relationship.

  Fiona’s heart twisted. Emilia was Liam’s mistress.

  The desire to cry nearly won. Fiona willed the tears into submission and prayed that her face hadn’t reddened with the effort. She’d never been good at hiding her feelings. Emilia was the reason Liam hadn’t consummated their marriage last night. His words had been kind and considerate, but he cared for another woman.

  “Perhaps tomorrow morning you would ride with me. Mayhap ye could ride this gelding.”

  Fiona startled upon realizing that Liam addressed her.

  “He is a spirited animal,” Emilia said before Fiona could reply. “It may be best if Lady Fiona rides a more sedate animal.”

  Fiona had no desire to ride the horse that had been given to her new husband by his mistress, but she recognized a slight when she heard one. “I am a skilled rider. I will have no trouble with the gelding.”

  She stepped up to the animal’s face and he nuzzled the hand she extended. From the corner of her eye, Fiona saw Emilia’s mouth thin. The victory was small, but Fiona welcomed the satisfaction that flowed through her. In truth, the gelding was a fine animal. He pushed his nose into her hand and nickered softly.

  “He likes ye,” Liam said.

  Fiona looked up at Liam and was surprised to see the smile in his eyes. She couldn’t help smiling back and the corners of his mouth turned upward in response.

  “I think he has decided you are his mistress,” Aidan said.

  “Perhaps,” Fiona said. She brushed her nose across the spot above his nose.

  He tossed his head.

  “Easy, lass. Ye will spoil him,” Liam’s youngest brother Broderick teased.

  “Have ye any apples?”

  “Aye,” Liam said.

  He strode down the aisle, then disappeared around a corner. A moment later, he returned with an apple in hand. The horse whinnied. Liam gave Fiona the apple.
She placed the fruit at the horse’s mouth then flattened her palm and pushed it into his mouth. He finished the apple in a few seconds, then nuzzled her hand again.

  Fiona laughed. “Tomorrow, lad.” She stroked his neck. “He is lean. I wager he is fast.”

  “He is,” Emilia said. “My father would be furious if he knew that I had raced him myself on half a dozen occasions.”

  The men, Liam included, frowned.

  “Racing is a man’s sport, lass,” one of the men said. “I would race my stallion against him, Liam.”

  “No racing for this one, lads. He belongs to my lady wife.”

  “She is a good lass,” another said. “Ye will loan him to Liam for a day, will ye no’, my lady? Just for a harmless race.”

  “Enough, Joshua.” Liam grasped the bridle. “I will put him in a stall in the west wing of the stables.”

  “I will come with ye,” Emilia said. She smiled sweetly. “We have raised him from a colt. I would say my farewells. He will miss me.”

  From what Fiona observed, the horse hadn’t acknowledged Emilia’s presence. Liam hadn’t paid her much mind, either, Fiona realized. He started forward, and Emilia fell in alongside him. Fiona’s face warmed. He hadn’t paid the woman any heed—until now.

  Liam’s brothers and guests fell into a debate about how they might talk her into loaning them the gelding and which horse might beat him. Fiona couldn’t tear her eyes from Liam and Emilia as they disappeared around the corner at the far end of the stables. The stables were huge. She had no idea where the west wing was. Liam and Emilia might be very much alone. Surely, he wouldn’t make love to another woman on their first day as husband and wife? Fiona started forward.

  “Where are ye going, lass?” Aidan called.

  She glanced back. “To see my horse well settled before we return to the castle.”