Chapter Twenty-Five #2
Lowri was so mortified at the thought of Briony watching her make love to Cullen that she was rendered speechless.
Briony’s lip curled to a sneer as she looked Lowri up and down. ‘How dare you counsel me on how to behave? You are nothing but a drab, and you are certainly no lady.’
‘I can attest to that,’ said Butcher, winking at Lowri.
His mask was slipping, and Briony glared at him, clearly jealous of the thought of them together. Did the dim-witted lass not realise that he’d had many women on the hook before she fell into his arms?
‘You are not wanted here, and you hold no sway over me,’ said Briony, with a defiant tilt of the chin.
‘So, I will do as I please. And as to my marriage to Donald, he can go hang. I’ll not have him.
I have better prospects now.’ She turned to Butcher and gazed up at him in adoration, and her face grew soft, like a child’s.
‘Tell me, Lowri, is it hard to see that he is mine and not yours?’
Lowri found her voice. ‘No, because I never wanted a lying, cheating cur for a lover, and if you do, then you are more of a fool than you look. And hell will freeze over before he marries you.’
She turned and walked away, with Briony’s angry shriek ringing in her ears. ‘I’m not coming back to you. I’ll not stay one moment longer in that hovel of a cottage.’
‘If you are with Butcher, you are not welcome in our hovel.’
‘You are nought but a jealous bitch, Lowri Macaulay. I’ve seen the way Cullen looks at me. And you will never have my gifts, my beauty.’
‘Or your wealth,’ muttered Lowri. ‘It is the only thing that rat is after.’
***
Lowri paced around the yard. She had been doing so for hours in a raging temper. There had always been something about Briony that Lowri did not trust, but this! To be throwing herself into the arms of a murderous lecher like Butcher was unthinkable.
Cullen pounded into the yard with a big grin and threw himself off his horse. He took hold of Lowri and kissed her thoroughly. She pushed him off, and his face fell.
‘We must talk about Briony,’ she said.
‘Aye, that is what I hurried home to tell you. Word came by ship that the mysterious Donald is coming to fetch her. Some fever or other has delayed his passage north, but he writes to say he is well again, eager to wed, and according to his letter, must be setting sail very soon. I’d wager, he’ll be here to claim the lass within the week, or sooner, though I’ve no idea if he’s set off or not.
’ Cullen frowned. ‘Why the serious face?
‘Perhaps he’ll not want to claim her once he knows the truth.’
‘That she is a bit of an empty-headed, silly little thing,’ said Cullen brightly.
‘No, much worse.’
Lowri told Cullen about Butcher, and his face grew angrier with every word. ‘Do you think he’s done the worst?’ said Cullen.
‘Aye. It is against his nature not to have seduced her fully.’
‘I cannot account for it, an innocent lass like that, brought up well, throwing away her virtue on Butcher.’
‘Can you not?’
His face hardened. ‘Are his charms so hard to resist then, lass?’
Lowri sighed, realising she had sparked his jealousy.
‘No, what I meant is, they must have found common ground in their mutual vanity. She is fey and weak, and he is persuasive and an excellent liar. He had me convinced that you planned that wreck.’ She softened her words with a smile. ‘I never really believed it.’
‘Glad to hear it, lass. But what are we to do now?’
‘Perhaps Briony can be worked upon. But I fear it is too late. Cullen, she is infatuated, and if she mentioned her inheritance then…’
‘Butcher will gobble her up like a tasty morsel. Do you think he intends marriage?’
‘Why would he do that? You said, he will be rich, once his father succumbs.’
‘Aye, rich, but as greedy and grasping as ever. He is the son of a laird. Perhaps he wants a wife of good breeding who brings with her a fortune, a grand name, prestige.’
‘You didn’t.’
He smiled and gave her a peck. ‘Aye, lass, but remember, I am the bastard son of a laird, so I did not have such lofty hopes. And I love that you have a bit of the peasant in you.’ Cullen’s smile faded, and he rubbed his chin.
‘I believe that Butcher amuses himself with his whores and tavern wenches for now, but he never forgets who he is and where he is from. He will want heirs, with a good name, and the right blood in their veins. Briony is comely, biddable, and not canny enough to ask many questions about his activities. He will wed her, and then carry on using every woman who crosses his path.’
‘So what are we to do – leave her to her fate?’ said Lowri.
‘I can have it out with Butcher.’
‘He cannot be reasoned with. And Briony went of her own free will. We cannot force her away from Butcher. It would only end in violence.’
‘Aye, the lass has made her choice, and she must live with it.’
‘Aye, a choice between a villain like Butcher, and Donald, a man she has never met. Cullen, she might be infuriating and a complete fool, but I pity the lass that choice.’
***
Briony did not return to the cottage. In the dead of night, back in their bed, Cullen woke Lowri with a kiss, hands roaming. She was tired, but he had a way of stirring her passion with the lightest of touches.
‘I was just thinking,’ he said between kisses. ‘What you said about Briony not having a choice. Your words stung me because you got even less choice than she did. You were forced to take me.’
‘And I am happier for it. Cullen. I would choose you every time,’ she murmured, pulling his mouth back down.
He smiled into her kiss and slid his lips from hers.
‘I should make amends for your forced marriage, lass,’ he breathed, pushing up her shift so that her naked flesh was exposed to his mouth as it made its way down her body.
Lowri sank into the exquisite sensations Cullen aroused between her legs, arching her hips up to meet him and clutching her nails into his hair.
The pleasure was so great, she could almost die of it.
She cried out into the night and thanked God that she had been forced to marry wicked Cullen Macaulay.