Chapter Seven
‘If your friends are to go free, we must consummate this marriage,’ said Cullen, coming closer.
‘Not if I have any choice in the matter,’ Lowri blurted out.
‘You don’t, so there it is. Do as you are told, and it will go easier on you, and you won’t have your friends’ deaths on your conscience. Believe me, folk dying on your account can be a hard burden to carry.’
Lowri’s tongue seemed to stick in her throat. She was in danger, and it would be best not to goad her tormentor, but her temper betrayed her. ‘I hate you, Cullen Macaulay.’
His hands fisted. ‘Well, I’m not keen on you, either, Lowri Strachan. But we are both caught in this trap, and so here we are, suffering each other.’
‘I would rather die than lie with you.’
‘Oh, I would not be too sure about that, lass. Perhaps you should give it a go before you make up your mind. I mean, here we are, alone together with everything we need - a bed and firelight – which I have to say flatters you into being bonnie. Who’d have thought it, under all that muck?’
‘Do you think I am some weak fool who will lie with someone because I am told to?’
‘You’re no fool. I think you are a vicious, thieving little bitch, which is why I will not lay a finger on you, bonnie or not.
Luckily for you, I am not the kind of man to force a woman, so you are safe from my charms this night.
I intend to find satisfaction at the bottom of this flagon of whisky instead. ’
‘And other nights?’
‘We shall see. When you get down on your knees and beg me to take you, I will consider it.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘Make a pretty apology for all the insults you’ve thrown at me, and I may just succumb to your charms.’
‘Why don’t you just do it? Your father told you to. Don’t you leap to his command, like a hound?
Cullen shook his head and said, ‘Oh, lass, you have sorely misjudged my character. I like to do the opposite of what my father tells me, unless I am cornered.’
‘But you have a birthright to hang onto, do you not?’
‘I don’t have to sell my soul to get it,’ he mumbled, staring at her with a frown.
‘And it’s not much of a birthright anyway.
Scarcross is cursed.’ The firelight licked across his face, deepening the shadows under his eyes, the smooth curve of his cheekbones.
His expression twisted to sadness. It was as if Cullen Macaulay suddenly revealed part of himself.
But that moment was fleeting, and he went back to the fireplace, his hands resting on the mantel, staring at the flames as if he was looking into Hell. It was as if he could not bear to look at her.
Lowri had to decide. Endure or fight. Lie with Cullen Macaulay or forever have her friends’ blood on her hands. ‘If we don’t do as your father commands, my friends will die,’ she said.
‘The way you keep pushing me on the matter of consummating our union, one might almost believe you want me to press you down on that bed and have my way with you.’
‘You are wrong. Our hellish union is a means to survive and nothing more.’
‘Aye, we are both trying to survive my father, so in that we have something in common.’ Cullen turned to her and took a big swig of the whisky and thrust the flagon at her.
Lowri shook her head. ‘Have you not wondered why my father did not just marry you to Allard? That bastard usually gets what he wants, and he has a mighty lust for you.’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Well, the reason is this. He gave you a choice because he wanted to humiliate all three of us. My father enjoys his little games. He likes to play with people. You are humiliated by becoming a Macaulay slave. Allard was rejected for being an oaf, which he is. That would have hurt his pride no end. I must say, I enjoyed that part. And it is best that you rejected my half-brother, for Allard would have no conscience about consummating this marriage. It would be done by now, and brutally.’
‘And how are you humiliated, Cullen?’
He smiled when she used his name. ‘My father despises your clan, your entire bloodline. He does not want to waste Allard, his only legitimate male heir and favourite son, on a filthy Strachan.’
Cullen started to sway a little. He was getting drunker by the minute.
‘It is the Macaulays who are filthy,’ said Lowri.
‘Oh, have I pricked your womanly pride, lass? Do not fear. It is not that you are an unappealing bride. It’s just you have the worst of the bargain. I’ve no claim to greatness. I am a bastard, lass, nought but my father’s by blow. How do you like that?’
‘One bastard is much like another,’ she replied.
‘Thank you for your generosity.’ He bowed mockingly.
‘But know this, bonnie you may be, but you’re no gift either, lass.
My father has given you to me as a punishment for defying him.
And in answer to your question, I was humiliated by having to exercise my conscience, a virtue which my father has tried to stamp out many a time.
And it is a cursed virtue, which means I will not have your blood on my hands.
You are my burden to carry, my whipping, if you like.
God knows, I’ve no desire to take a wife.
I’ve turned down many a lass he’s thrust before me in the past, and most were more worthy than you. ’
‘Then why agree to it?’ spat Lowri.
His brows knitted. ‘Because I didn’t want to see you hang or sent to a fate worse than death.’ His voice softened. ‘And trust me, he would have done it. He is ruthless to a fault.’
‘Is that a family trait?’
‘Aye, it is, and never doubt it.’ Cullen stared into her eyes from across the chamber and then rushed towards her. He loomed over here, taller than Lowri by a head. His eyes roamed over her face, searching for something.
Lowri found her voice. ‘What are you going to do?’ she gasped.
‘What do you think I am going to do?’ His tone was guarded.
‘Something horrible. You Macaulays are all cruel. You pretend to be my saviour, but you are just playing with me.’
‘Is that so?’
‘Do your worst and get it over with,’ she spat.
‘And what is that exactly?
Lowri’s eyes flicked to the bed before she could help herself.
Cullen’s followed. ‘Don’t flatter yourself, lass,’ he growled. His quiet rage filled the chamber and was far worse than the blustering cruelty of Allard and Griffin. ‘What makes you think I want to touch you?’
‘Your father said…’
‘My father can burn in hell for all I care. What am I? Some stallion put to covering a mare? I’ll not have you, Lowri Strachan. Instead, I will just drink myself into oblivion as quickly as possible. I suggest you do the same.’
‘But then you won’t be able to do it.’
‘Don’t underestimate me, lass. I’ve been known to drink a whole tavern’s worth of ale and still send a lass on her way with a smile on her face.’
He held the whisky out to Lowri, and she snatched it and took a huge gulp to numb the horror of her plight.
‘You drink like a man,’ said Cullen.
‘I do a great many things like a man.’
He raised one eyebrow, making him look raffish. ‘Not everything, surely? Shall we find out?’ He reached for Lowri, and she leapt back.
‘You could set me free now, and my brother will reward you with coin, whatever you want. You know where Donnan and Rory are. Let them go.’
‘What? Turn against my family and my clan on your account? I do not know you. I’ve no loyalty to you.’
‘You seem to scarcely have any to your clan. Why?’
‘I owe you nothing, especially not my secrets, lass, so leave it alone.’
This Macaulay brute was impossible. Lowri’s impotent rage would not be silenced. ‘I wish you’d never spoken up for me.’
He glared. ‘I’ve saved you from a terrible fate I would not wish on a dog.’
‘There can be no worse fate than degrading myself in marriage to a drunken Macaulay bastard.’
Cullen grabbed Lowri’s arm and shook her.
‘You could have been degraded in far worse ways if the magistrate sent you to the colonies instead of hanging you. Do you know what a voyage to the Americas is like? If you did, you would thank God for my help. Do you think the sailors care a fig for your scruples? They would take turns with you, lass. And if you survived weeks at sea, then you would be sold like an animal. As an indentured servant, you would be little better than a plantation slave and treated accordingly – used as they pleased and worked until you dropped. I may be all kinds of villainy, but I am a good deal better than that.’
‘Let go of me,’ howled Lowri.
‘No. I’ll do as I please.’ His face twisted into a snarl. ‘Why the hell did you choose me, if I am so hateful?’
‘You are not so hateful as Allard.’
He sneered. ‘Tis far more dangerous to be wed to me than Allard. He is a grunting oaf of a man, and not a pretty one, but you might have had a dull, steady purgatory instead of a short, painful one with me.’
‘What do you mean, short? If you mean to kill me, do it now. Better dead than suffer you.’
‘I’ll not kill you, lass, though I could throttle you for choosing me as a husband. And don’t keep wishing yourself dead when you are young, with more beauty than you deserve. You have your whole life before you, so don’t curse it so easily.’
Lowri’s lip trembled as all her mistakes crashed in on her at once.
‘I have a worthless life before me. And save your begrudging flattery. What worth is beauty when you have no other virtues? I should die, for I am hateful. I have dishonoured my clan, my brother, everyone, by marrying you. My friends are suffering on my account, and I loathe myself.’
Cullen loomed over her. ‘So it seems you have a conscience too. Perhaps that’s your saving grace.
And I give no flattery on your looks, though you seem not to know you are bonnie.
I speak as I find.’ Cullen held up the bottle.
‘A few more of these and I might actually desire you.’ He shrugged.
‘Or maybe not, for in truth, I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, Lowri Strachan. ’