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.'
'Why didn't it matter to him?'
'He wanted the land. He's laird now and has to put his clan above his own concerns. Marrying you was simply a way he could achieve his goal.'
It was a cold, honest answer. Johanna nodded. 'I'll meet him,' she finally agreed. 'But I won't promise you I'll marry him, so you can quit your smile right now, Nicholas.'
MacBain had grown weary of waiting for his bride to come to him. He started down the steps just as she nudged her mount forward. He still hadn't gotten a proper look at her, as she was completely covered by a black cape and hood. Her smallness, however, surprised him. He'd expected a much larger woman given Nicholas's size.
Her appearance wasn't important to him. The marriage was a practical arrangement, nothing more. He assumed, however, that because she was Nicholas's sister, she would have the same dark coloring and auburn- colored hair.
He was mistaken. Nicholas dismounted first. He tossed the reins to one of the soldiers and went over to Johanna's side to assist her to the ground.
She was a little bit of a thing. The top of her head only reached her brother's shoulders. Nicholas had his hands on her arms and was smiling down at her. It was obvious he cared a great deal about his sister. MacBain thought his brotherly devotion a little overdone.
While Johanna untied the cord holding her cloak together, the soldiers began to line up behind their leader.
The Maclaurin men clumped themselves together behind their laird and to the left of the wide steps while the MacBain warriors lined up behind their leader and on the right side. The six steps were filled with curious men in a matter of seconds. They all wanted to see the laird's bride.
MacBain heard the low grunts of obvious approval a scant second after Johanna removed her cloak and handed it to her brother. MacBain didn't think he made a sound, but he wasn't certain. The sight of her took his breath away.
Nicholas hadn't said a word about her appearance, and MacBain hadn't been interested enough to ask. He now looked at the baron and saw the laughter in his eyes. He knows I'm rattled, he thought to himself. MacBain masked his astonishment and turned his full attention back to the beautiful woman walking toward him.
Lord, she was a bonny lass. Her waist-length blond curls swayed with each step she took. The woman didn't seem to have any flaws. There was a light sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose. He liked that. Her eyes were a vivid shade of blue, her complexion was pure, and her mouth, dear God, her mouth could drive a saint to lustful thoughts. He liked that, too.
Some of the Maclaurin soldiers weren't as disciplined in their reactions as the MacBain was. The two men standing directly behind their laird let out long, low whistles of appreciation. MacBain took exception to their rude behavior, however. He half-turned, lifted each man by his neck, and sent them both flying like cabers over the side of the steps. The other soldiers had to duck to get out of the way.
Johanna came to a quick stop, looked at the soldiers sprawled out on the ground, then looked back at their leader. The laird didn't even seem winded.
'A gentle man?' she whispered to Nicholas. 'That was a lie, wasn't it?'
'Give him a chance, Johanna. You owe him and me that much.'
She gave her brother a disgruntled look before turning back to the laird.
MacBain took a step forward. His wolfhound came with him and once again leaned against his master's side.
Johanna started praying for enough courage to keep walking. When she was just a foot or two away from the warrior, she stopped and then executed a perfect curtsy.
Her knees were shaking so hard that she was pleased she didn't fall over on her face.
She heard a loud snort and several grunts while her head was bowed. She didn't know if the noises were sounds of approval or censure.
The laird was wearing his plaid. He had extremely muscular legs. She tried not to stare at them.
'Good day, Laird MacBain.'
Her voice trembled. She was afraid of him. MacBain wasn't surprised. The sight of him had sent more than one young woman running back to the safety of her father. He'd never considered trying to change their reactions because he hadn't particularly cared.
He was caring now, however. He would never get the woman to marry him if he didn't do something to ease
