Donnan's Rose, page 5
"I will not try and deny any of it. Either what he saw nor the fact that I do not remember you agreeing to become Rosalind's guardian."
"Good, because I didn't want to have to kick your arse off the isle all the way back to London." He took another sip off his drink, then shook his head. A tendril of ginger hair slid onto his forehead, but Rory chose to ignore it. "You've put me in a very difficult position, Donnan. I'm the laird now, duke and Rosalind's guardian. I can't ignore what has happened. You have put Rosalind in a precarious position. Her reputation has been compromised, ruined because of your lust, Donnan. No decent man will want her, so you will do the right thing, brother. You will marry Lady Rosalind."
"Rory, please. Kent and Tavish exaggerated what they think they saw. They have a vendetta against their own brother," Rosalind said, placing the crystal glass to her lips and drinking the contents.
"So the two of you are going to lie to me about what you were doing? Tavish found you naked, Donnan! I'd go into details, but I think you know them already. It does not matter what the two of them do or do not do, Rosalind. The fact remains Donnan put you in a compromising situation. He will act accordingly. You have a choice. Either I send for the archbishop, whom I know is on the isle visiting, and a special license is requested."
"Or?" Donnan asked.
"Or you leave here at first light. I will let it be known that I have banished you for a period of a year."
"Why would you do that, Rory?" Rosalind asked.
"Donnan is right. Tavish and Kent are up to something. This sort of behavior is out of character for them. They won't be expecting a banishment. They expect a wedding."
"What am I to do?" she inquired, her gaze darting to Donnan.
"Stay here, help me keep our mother pacified. You can reassure her that nothing inappropriate occurred between you and Donnan. You merely went to his chambers to tell him something important. Something that couldn't wait until morning."
"So you plan to announce that you found nothing inappropriate occurred between Rosalind and me."
"Yes, that and I didn't approve of the way you handled the situation. Instead of speaking with Rosalind outside your chambers, you invited her in. Banishment for a year makes it appear I am not siding with the two of you. It keeps Rosalind's reputation intact and gives you a good year to find out what those two are up to."
"Why do I feel as though there is something you haven't told us,” Donnan said, lifting the crystal glass to his lips.
"Because upon your return in one year, there will be a wedding, Donnan. A wedding between the two of you."
* * *
At the front of the stable, Rosalind could see the gleaming black of Donnan's expensive traveling carriage. Creeping closer to the door, she saw that the conveyance was ready to depart
Two of Donnan's footmen stood in conversation with the driver and James. She listened to their conversation, and her heart began to pound. She couldn't stay behind, no matter what Rory dictated. She would have to find a place to hide in it until they were far enough away from the castle. Donnan would never chance bringing her back. At least she didn't believe he would. There was a frosty mist in the cold morning air. It had started raining.
The luggage boot at the rear would be perfect. If there was room for her inside. She prayed there was, took a deep, steadying breath, and prepared to move quickly. When she heard the men laughing, saw that their attention was focused on Donnan's stallion, Diablo, she sprinted for the back of the carriage.
Jerking up the leather cover, she climbed inside, settled herself and her one bag between the trunks and satchels, and tried to calm her frantically pounding heart. She prayed that no more luggage would be added.
Seconds passed. Her pulse pounded in her ears. Though the morning was chilled and rainy, sweat dampened the hair at her temples. She heard men approaching, as they took their places on top of the carriage. She felt it dip and sway with their weight, then the four matched blacks strained against their traces, and the carriage rolled off toward the bailey.
It paused only briefly, long enough for its single passenger, Donnan, to climb aboard and settle himself. She shut her eyes tightly, trying not to see the fury of his face once she was discovered.
Hidden safely in the luggage boot, Rosalind breathed a sigh of relief and allowed her weary body to slump against the black lacquered wood. She was so tired. The night had been exhausting, especially after Rory had announced to Kent and Tavish no wedding would be taking place. They'd been furious, but quickly settled once Malcolm entered the room and reminded them who they were talking to.
The cool summer day began to warm, heating the space in the back of the carriage. Her tired muscles relaxed, and she began to fall asleep. She slept off and on, awakened once when the carriage paused at a roadside tavern late in the afternoon, and Donnan departed, probably for a bite to eat. Rosalind ignored the rumble in her stomach. She relaxed once more as the coach resumed its journey. She was too tired to even notice when the wheels jarred into the ruts in the road.
The hours dragged past. Her legs were cramped in the tight confines of the luggage boot. A dull pain nagged at the back of her neck. Her back and shoulders ached as well. The coach rolled along, and she was almost grateful she hadn’t had anything to eat or drink.
She had no idea how many hours had passed when she was awakened with a fierce jerk on her arm. She would have landed in the mud if a second footman hadn’t caught her other arm. Instead, he hauled her upright with a rough jerk that snapped her head back.
“Let me go!” Rosalind struggled against him, trying to break loose. “Get your hands off me!”
“It’s Lady Rosalind!” one of the men called out, wrapping an arm around her waist and forcing her back against his chest.
“That’s enough!” The deep voice cut through the melee, and both men instantly went still. Rosalind noticed the tall, imposing man who stood in the shadows. Donnan.
“Let her go. She seems quite able to talk. Give her a chance to speak.” They did so with some regret, releasing her arms and taking a single step backward.
“Rosalind, what in the name of God have you done?” he asked. “What are you doing in the back of my carriage?”
Rosalind squared her shoulders, trying not to think what a miserable picture she must look. She summoned the lie she had concocted for just this moment.
“I could not stay, Donnan. I can be more useful with you than back at the castle alone."
His brows drew together. He surveyed her from top to bottom, taking in every inch of her seedy appearance, shaking his head.
“Come into the inn with me, Rose. We can speak inside. After you've bathed, of course." He smirked at her, extending his arm.
Rosalind took her time bathing. She knew Donnan was angry with her stealing away. She had to make him understand.
Finally, she finished and rejoined him in the sitting room of the suite he'd gotten them. A mouthwatering meal graced a table. Her stomach reminded her she hadn't eaten since she was on Skye.
"Come and join me," he said as he rose from a chair he sat in.
"Thank you."
She followed him to the table and sat in a chair he'd pulled out for her. He was not happy. His face told her so.
He sat across from her, his eyes intently watching her. "Rose, do you realize what you've done by stowing away in my carriage?"
"Of course I do. I'm quite sure Rory is furious with me."
Donnan picked up a piece of cheese and broke it in half. "If he doesn't think we planned this to begin with."
She shook her head. "I will take full responsibility for my actions."
"Not that it will do any good now," he replied briskly.
"What would you have me do, Donnan? Sit and wait on you for another year? I'm sure when the time came, you would have an excuse not to come back and accept your duties."
"That is exactly what you were suppose to do, Rose! You were suppose to wait for a year," he bellowed. "I would never purposely disobey anything Rory orders of me. Never. He is not only my brother, he's my clan leader. When the year was up, I would have come back for you, Rose. Now you've changed all that. Now we must marry."
She said nothing for a moment. She speared a piece of chicken and ate it. If Donnan wasn't so angry with her, she could sit right here and enjoy this plain feast. "Why can't I simply spend the year with you? I can help you, I'm sure. After that, we can return to Skye and marry just like Rory wishes."
"Surely you jest. I cannot have you live with me and follow me around for a year like some tap room wench. You're a lady, Rose. Your reputation would be ruined. No, we'll do the proper thing and marry at Gretna Green."
"What? When?"
"Now. Our journey will begin as soon as we've finished our meal."
Chapter 5
Rosalind peered out the carriage window as it flew down the road. As always, Donnan was in a hurry to get somewhere. If it weren't for the fact that the rain had set in during the night, he probably would have had them arrive in Gretna Green astride.
The past couple of days had gone by quicker than she first thought possible. She and Donnan had indeed ridden astride their two mounts as a way to pass the time. In Donnan's case, however, she felt it was a way to unleash the ever present unharnessed energy in him. Donnan never had been one to stomach the ways of polite society. He had always been restless, which probably added to his reputation as a rake and a scoundrel. He was simply unable to stay in one spot for too long.
She sighed and sat back in her seat, opening a novel she'd been attempting to read. Glancing over at her betrothed, who appeared to be sleeping, she smiled. Ever since they were children, Donnan had always had a spirit of adventure. He never outgrew it. She caught herself smiling as she remembered. He was so terribly handsome, so much so he took her breath away.
"Like what you see?"
"How long have you been awake?"
"Long enough to know you've been watching me, and you haven't answered my question." He sat up, running his hands through his long, dark hair. As he did, the corners of his mouth curved up. He looked out at the gray skies before returning his attention to her.
"You know I do, or I wouldn't be sitting across from you in a carriage thundering down the road to Gretna Green so we may be wed."
"We won't be staying after we're wed I'm afraid. I have no desire to spend my wedding night with my bride in some inn."
"Donnan, we've been riding nonstop to get here. Surely you'll allow us one night to relax."
"I'm afraid not, sweet. When we arrive, we shall go to an inn so you may bathe and make yourself ready for our wedding."
"I certainly hope you intend to clean up, Lord MacLeod."
"No, I thought I'd come as I am. With two days worth of road dust," he joked, smiling her way.
"Must you always be such a cad?"
"I suppose not. I simply want to get you somewhere safe, and an inn is not it. I have no desire to take your virginity anywhere but my bed."
"And where pray tell might that be?"
"You shall see, lass."
"Donnan, we have been on the road, going nonstop. One night in an inn won't hurt. Please?" She eyed him curiously. It hadn't crossed her mind that perhaps he thought someone was following them. "Do you suspect we're being pursued?"
"That's always possible, but my men have found no proof of that." He peered out the window into the gray day.
"How much longer, Donnan?"
"Until what?"
"Until we arrive at Gretna Green?"
"To answer your question, we are there."
The carriage had slowed to a far more normal pace, and buildings were beginning to appear to one side of the carriage. The carriage came to a halt in front of an inn. It appeared to be good-sized from what Rosalind could see from her vantage point. She closed her book and gazed over at Donnan, who was watching her.
"Come, my love. I believe they have a suite waiting for us."
"How?" She should learn not to ask silly questions. Donnan had a side of himself he hadn't shared with even her. One she intended to crack once she truly had him alone.
A footman had opened the door, and Donnan was outside waiting on her. Taking her hand, he helped her down to the street and guided her to the front door of the establishment. His men were scurrying around them, James, his valet shouting orders about what little luggage they'd brought with them.
"Lord MacLeod, it is an honor indeed," a tall, balding, man exclaimed as they entered.
"Thank you. Is everything ready?" Donnan inquired, his hand still on Rosalind's waist, though he nodded to the man.
"Yes, my lord. I have my best suite awaiting. The ceremony can be held in the sitting room of the suite if you should require privacy."
"I think I'd prefer that, wouldn't you, love?"
"Yes. The sitting room sounds splendid."
"I have hot baths being drawn as we speak. If you'll allow me, I'll show you to your suite."
"No need, Mr. Fox. I know you're a busy man. Simply point us in the right direction. I'm sure I can find it."
The man appeared as though he was going to protest, but held his tongue. It would have done no good against Donnan MacLeod. He gestured toward the stairs, giving Donnan instructions on where the room was.
"Don't you think that was quite rude? The man was trying to be hospitable, Donnan," she said quietly as they topped the stairs to the second floor. Donnan turned them left and guided her to the last door on the right.
"He can spare his frivol ways for other more impressed people. We have been on the road for days. I simply am in no mood to be nice until after I've had a bath and wed my betrothed."
The door opened, and James stood there, looking as though this were an everyday event with Donnan. He bowed to Rosalind, while holding what appeared to be a pair of trousers.
"Do those belong to Lord MacLeod?" she asked the valet as she attempted to suppress a grin.
"Aye, my lady. He said he wanted to be married in them."
"Not your kilt? Your family tartan? That's so unlike you, Donnan."
"Perhaps you are right, love. We are, of course, still in Scotland. James, my dress kilt then, and please show my bride where she is to bathe and change."
"Yes, please. I am aching to soak in hot water and get this dirt off me."
"Not too long, love. I promise once we reach our final destination you can spend an entire day bathing if that's what you wish."
"Very well, my lord. I'll try and make myself presentable within an hour," she replied, following the valet to a closed door.
As the door closed behind her, Rosalind noticed a young woman coming toward her, and she had to smile. As gruff and mysterious as this Donnan MacLeod wanted to appear to her, he still had the caring side to him. He knew in spite of how this turn of events had brought them together to very soon be husband and wife, she would want this one small luxury. A bath and help preparing herself for him.
"Come, my lady, the bathwater is arrived and is hot." The woman scurried ahead of her to the bathing chamber.
The water had the heavenly scent of lavender as she emerged her body in the steaming water a few minutes later. Rosalind sunk back against the back of the tub for a moment. She could indeed lie here for hours, and she would until the maid came back to hurry her on.
Her body felt as though it had been through a most brutal assault. She smiled to herself, recalling the past two days. Donnan, after the first night and sure he was clear of the pull of the MacLeods, had still traveled at breakneck speeds to get them here. She couldn't imagine what life was going to be like married to him. This side of Donnan MacLeod she'd never seen before. Barking orders, always alert. It occurred to her that the Donnan she thought she knew was nothing like this man. He obviously painted one world for his family and long time society friends. There was another Donnan, one whose world she was entering. Uninvited, but not shunned. Obviously he was keeping her in the dark on a great deal, and she was sure once they got to one of his homes, he would enlighten her. But the where and when any of that would happen was beginning to weigh on her. Would he follow Rory's instructions and take them to Paris or some other place on the continent? Or did he have his own plans?
"My lady?" she heard the young woman say from behind her. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but we need to be getting you ready for your wedding."
"Of course. Is there time to wash my hair and have it dry in time?"
"There is if you sit in front of the hearth."
"Help me then. I want this to be as perfect as possible given the circumstances," she said, sitting up before lying back and immersing her head under water.
A few minutes later, Rosalind climbed out of the tub and sat at the hearth with her brush, which the young girl had brought her. She began to brush her hair, as the girl brought her two dresses to choose from.
It wasn't a hard decision since she only had these two other dresses in her possession. The forest green was fairly new, and she was certain Donnan had never seen her in it before. She pointed to her choice and returned to her task.
Satisfied her hair was sufficiently dry, she began the matter of getting dressed and ready in the time given her. As she looked at herself in the looking glass, she began to tremble. Though this was not the way she thought she and Donnan would eventually marry, she'd always believed he was the one.
"You look beautiful, my lady. If you're ready, I'm told his lordship is waiting on you in the parlor."
"I'm ready," she replied, holding her head up and walking toward the door that separated her and her future.
* * *
At the sound of a door opening behind him, Donnan turned his head. He didn't need to be told who just walked into the room. Like it had been for years, Rosalind's presence was almost as though she were a physical part of him. Even when she wasn’t near, he always had a sense of her.
Slowly he turned and saw her staring at him, dressed in a dark green colored gown. She wore her red hair down, which touched him that she remembered. Rosalind was the essence of a great woman. Still he wasn't entirely sure how he was to fit a wife into his life, especially one part of it. Right now, however, this was about her, and how breathtakingly gorgeous she was.
