Page 159 of Wicked Highland Heroes

“Aye, you are.”

They reached the stairs and he urged her up ahead of him. In the kitchen, he grasped her arm and led her into the great hall. Men stood in half a dozen clusters about the room. Rhoslyn caught sight of a priest sitting with his back to them at the table nearest the hearth.

“Why is Father Crey here?” she demanded, but knew the answer. Her head whirled. What was she going to do? How could she stop this? Could she stop this? “Were ye no’ on your way to help my grandfather?”

“Aye.”

“Then how can we have a wedding?”

He looked down at her. “Even by your Scottish law we are already wed. I am willing to say the vows simply to please you.”

Rhoslyn understood. “Ye will help my grandfather only if I say the vows. Along with being a murderer and kidnapper, you are an extortionist.”

“You forgot thief,” he said.

“I have forgotten nothing.”

They neared the priest and he rose.

“I will help Seward because he is your grandfather. Is that not enough?” St. Claire asked.

“And if I do no’ say the vows?”

He shrugged and she wanted to scream.

“Then you can await me in my bedchambers until I return—or your bedchambers. I imagine there is no secret passageway in the lady’s room as there is in my chambers. I will bring your grandfather back with me and then come to you.”

Rhoslyn stared openmouthed.

“Fear not, lady. I am not so uncouth as to come to your bed straight from the battlefield. I promise to bathe first.”

“If ye dare come to my bed I will cut off your bollocks,” she snapped.

His brows rose. “I see you have been talking with Mistress Muira.”

* * *

Lady Rhoslyn was not what Talbot had expected. She was beautiful. A fact that might be more pitfall than windfall. Auburn hair hung to her waist in a thick braid that begged to be unraveled and spread in a halo atop white sheets. He would never wonder what this woman thought. Every emotion appeared in her dark eyes like a rolling tide. And in this instant her eyes conveyed distrust. But he didn’t read in them that she would refuse the vows.

“I will not repeat the vows,” she said.

Leave it to a woman to prove him wrong.

Talbot shrugged.

“Sweet Jesu, shrug one more time, St. Claire, and I will drive a blade through your heart.”

He started to shrug again—a habit he had to confess his father’s wife disliked as much as Lady Rhoslyn seemed to—but he managed to check the action.

Talbot looked at the priest. “You have read the contract, Priest?”

“I have.”

“It is binding?”

The man’s mouth thinned. “Aye, it is binding.”

Talbot looked at Lady Rhoslyn. “As far as the law is concerned, we are man and wife. If you care nothing for holy blessings, then you may go to bed.”