Read Online The Kindling Heart by Carmen Caine - Free Book Online

man,” Domnall cleared his throat. “I’ve told ye that. And he’ll make a braw husband that will protect ye well!”
    She wanted to vomit.
    The priest had stood in front of her, binding her to Ruan, and she’d merely noted his dirty nails and beady eyes. She hadn’t protested; she hadn’t even known. Her consent hadn’t been required. Domnall’s words on her behalf had been adequate for these Highlanders.
    The enormity of her new situation struck her. She was wed to a stranger in a strange country, one in which she didn’t even understand the language. She could not move or think. She could do nothing, but stare dumbly as her lips drained of all color.
    “Bring the lass some wine,” someone ordered. “She’s going to faint.”
    “Or retch,” another added helpfully.
    Someone plied a bottle of wine between her clammy lips. It seared a path down her throat even as a cold fury took hold deep within her heart. She’d been a fool. Her own father had used her as a tool, but why? To further his place in the clan?
    Raising her chin, she stepped forward to clench the table with her hands, not caring what any might think. Lifting her head high, she locked gazes with her father and accused, “I trusted you.”
    He had the grace to avert his eyes. “Ach, ye still can, lass. I’ve done ye right, Bree.”
    Bree’s nostrils flared in disgust as Domnall held out his hands in a placating gesture. Just an hour ago, she’d have thrown herself in his arms and taken comfort there. But not anymore.
    “Do not touch me!” she hissed, gulping back sudden tears. “I want nothing more of you.” It was a vow and one never more fervently felt.
    Domnall’s shoulders sagged and he seemed to age in front of her, “I’m an auld man, Bree. I chose the best husband to care for ye… and ‘twas nae just me. Afraig had her say in the matter. She made me swear nae to tell ye, until ‘twas done.”
    Afraig? The words cut her soul like a knife. Afraig had spent many hours with her, dreaming of their cottage by the sea! Afraig would never have betrayed her this way! Yet, even as her mouth opened in protest to denounce the lie, even as she cursed her father at the top of her trembling voice, in words she’d never used— indeed, words a woman would never dare say to a man— her heart told her it was true.
    Afraig’s gestures, the half-finished sentences, even then, she’d known the woman was hiding something. Clutching her stomach, she thought she really would retch. Afraig had known. She’d sent her with Domnall to Scotland to marry Ruan. Still cursing, she raised her arm to ward off the blows that were sure to follow such a wicked outburst, but she still cursed.
    To her surprise, someone chuckled.
    Instinctively, she whirled, astonished to discover it was her newly made husband lounging against the table with folded arms. Amusement flickered in his burning eyes as scattered snorts of laughter circled the chamber.
    “Ye’ve yerself a wee wild one, Ruan,” Cuilen commented dryly.
    “Aye, ‘tis the spitfires that warm a man’s soul,” someone laughed.
    “…And bed,” another voice added.
    Ruan turned away, and Bree was startled to see Domnall beaming broadly as more wine poured. The men in the chamber viewed her with outright amusement and a deepening interest.
    All save one.
    The man seated at the head of the table was silent, frosty. His expression made the words shrivel on her lips.
    Nervously, she ducked her head and stepped back.
    The crowd of men shifted, parting enough so she could see the door. Without thinking, she bolted, pushing through the crowd only to trip over a booted foot and pitch headlong onto the rush-strewn floor.
    Hands from all sides pulled her up, hands that threw her into a state of panic. Were they playing with her? Perhaps, lulling her into a false sense of security before the blows fell. Ruan was a tall and strong man; his blows might kill her. Wat almost had, many times, and he was a much