Chapter 4
He was never going to go away.
He was there when she opened her eyes, placing a cool, damp cloth on her forehead as she lay on her bed in the Douglas castle in a place that seemed a million miles from Indian territory—and the past life that had brought her to her present situation.
She felt a strange warmth as she looked into his face.
He was a very unusual man. Unique. For a moment, she was tempted to reach out and feel the texture of his cheek.
But even lying down, she felt slightly dizzy. She groaned softly.
“You did ask me to marry you,” he reminded her, a smile curling his lips.
“Only because I had to,” she said huskily.
His smile deepened. “Well, you do have until the moment of truth itself to make up your mind.”
“So do you.”
“My mind is made up.”
She studied his striking features, admitting to herself that he had an exceptionally handsome smile, even when it was wry and so often mocking, as it could be, sometimes mocking himself.
Yet she thought that it could be his very charm that disturbed her—as much as all the savage background.
Still, she suddenly found herself smiling as well.
“Your mind is made up! You didn’t know a thing about having a child when you sailed the Atlantic to Scotland, and you might never have known if Shawna Douglas hadn’t spoken with such concern to me when she thought we were alone.
So you hardly came here determined to go home burdened with a wife. ”
“It wasn’t my original intent; it is my intent now.”
Sabrina closed her eyes, shivering.
“Sorry,” he told her dryly.
Her eyes flew open again. “You don’t understand; maybe no one can understand.
Living with Dillman was a travesty. All the years that my mother was alive, Skylar and I were always acting out a charade for her benefit.
Then my mother died, and our entire lives became dedicated to getting away from him.
When Dillman died, we were suddenly free to live our own lives. ”
“And free to dream?”
“Of course.”
“And what were your dreams?” he inquired.
She shook her head, her lashes lowering. “The usual, I guess. To live each day as I saw fit—”
“Back East?”
“I—I don’t know,” she admitted, hesitating.
“Umm,” he murmured. “What you wanted was to live back East, in all the elegance and comfort to which your position in society has always allowed you. You wanted to dance the nights away with young swains rushing adoringly about you at all times, tripping over themselves for your slightest favor.”
Her eyes narrowed upon him. “Sloan, don’t you dare imagine that you’ve the right—”
“To an opinion?”
“To judge me.”
“You want freedom—and marriage is a shackle and chain,” he murmured.
Again, she hesitated. His mood now seemed so mercurial. One minute, it seemed that she provided him the greatest amusement. The next minute, he seemed dark and dangerous.
“Well?” he persisted.
“Shackles and chains—they are more or less what you’re describing. You want so much from a wife,” she murmured uneasily.
Sloan laughed. “I want so much? I think not. I expect my wife to live with me, sleep with me—raise my child with me. And accept what I am. I’m sorry about your losing what you thought was your first taste of freedom.
I do understand your feelings. But there will be a child involved, and that changes everything, for everyone. ”
“Yes. But couldn’t we just—”
“No.”
“You don’t know what I was going to say.”
“I do. You want a marriage in name only, sharing responsibility for the child. You made such a suggestion earlier. Actually, marriage should be a far easier adjustment for you than many a bride.”
“And why is that?”
The sudden twist of his smile was almost satirical. “Because you know just what’s expected of you.”
“You’re being horrible—”
“I’m being frank. And it wasn’t horrible at all, and that’s what irritates you most.”
She snatched the cloth from his hand. “Sloan, I—”
“It will be repeated.”
“You really are being completely wretched when I’m in this terrible condition—”
The sound of his laughter further irritated her and caused her to break off.
“I don’t begin to understand what’s so funny.”
“Ah, well, do you think that your sister and Hawk are giving up their relations?”
“Why would they—” she began with a frown, then, meeting his eyes, queried, “My sister and Hawk are expecting a child?”
Sloan nodded. Sabrina was both amazed and annoyed to realize that he knew what she did not. Her sister hadn’t said a word to her. But then, she hadn’t said a word to Skylar.
“Skylar hasn’t been sick,” Sabrina said.
“And despite being such a wretched savage, I am aware that you really don’t feel well. Any man accepts that his wife may be in a very delicate condition—just as long as it doesn’t last eternally.”
Sabrina allowed her lashes to fall over her cheeks. A reprieve!
“So you are more reconciled,” Sloan said dryly.
“I am reconciled, and you can really quit being so sarcastic. You’re telling me what marriage is. Well, Major Trelawny, I had a few dreams once upon a time regarding what a proposal should be.”
“My proposal was less than eloquent?” he queried, amused.
“I was actually the one asking today.”
“Only because you had so determinedly turned me down. I decided to leave you be until the child arrived. But if the lack of a proper proposal has disturbed you…” he murmured, his voice trailing as he shrugged.
Then he dropped the cloth back into the bowl of cold water at her side, caught her fingers, and drew her up to a sitting position.
“Sloan…” she murmured, uneasy and wary. “You are making me very nervous.”
But he ignored her and went down upon one knee before the bed, her hands in his, his head ever so slightly bowed. “Sabrina, on my knees, I ask you to be my wife.”
“Sloan, stop this mockery—”
“No mockery.”
“Get up!”
“Not until you reply.”
“Sloan, you know that I’ve agreed! I came to you; you are mocking me—”
“No, I’m not. I’m most seriously going for a new beginning. I am asking you on bended knee to be my wife.”
“But I’ve said that I agree we must—”
“Just say yes.” His eyes were coal-dark fire, very intent on hers. She returned his stare, and a warmth seemed to suffuse her. He could be absolutely charming. Intense. Incredibly sensual, powerful in both personality and physique. If she had only met him under different circumstances…
“Sloan, stop it; do get up—”
“Just say yes.”
“Yes! You know that it is yes—”
He rose, sitting at her side. “Did that help any?”
Sabrina had to smile. She gazed down to her lap where his hand still remained entwined with hers. “Yes,” she admitted.
“It could have been worse.”
“How is that?”
He shrugged, a very subtle smile playing upon his lips once again. “Well, you could have stumbled into the room of an old, balding, totally reprehensible married murderer or thief. Toothless, to boot.”
“Well, if he’d been so old and decrepit,” Sabrina said lightly, “he might have been incapable of…well, he might have been incapable.”
“Of the act—or of reproduction?” Sloan demanded.
“Both,” Sabrina assured him.
“How flattering—you’d have preferred to meet with a reprehensible, toothless, balding old coot rather than me.”
“That isn’t what I said. And you forgot the married part.”
“Did I? Sorry. Close enough.”
“Of course it could have been worse,” Sabrina murmured.
To her surprise, his fingers tightened around hers, and he suddenly rose. She stared up at him and noted that his handsome features were tense.
“Indeed. You could have met up with a full-blooded Sioux. Such clientele is not uncommon in Gold Town. Until the wedding, my love,” he said and turned away, striding toward the door.
It opened and closed.
And she shivered fiercely, hugging herself. For a few moments there…
She had almost felt warm.
He was well aware that his Sioux blood disturbed her—she had admitted it. Things could have been worse for her, he had implied, because she might have run into a full-blooded Sioux instead of a half-breed.
She groaned softly, burying her face in her hands.
She wished that he could understand. She had spent just days of her life in the West. All that she knew about the Sioux came from the dreadful tales of their savagery that she had read about in the papers and heard from White travelers.
What he was, did disturb her, but there was far more to it than he could understand.
She wasn’t just afraid of Indians.
She was afraid of what might happen to Sloan himself, because of who he was. Part white, part Sioux. Straddling a fence…
That was about to crumble.
She started shivering again, realizing to her dismay just how much it was all coming to mean to her.
There was never a single moment when Sloan questioned what he was doing. She wasn’t just an innocent he had inadvertently deflowered; she was the sister of his best friend’s wife, carrying his child.
It seemed very strange to him to await his bride in the chapel of an ancient castle, Hawk and David Douglas by his side.
They stood beneath an antique crucifix while a piper played.
Yet as the unique music of the pipes filled the air, he felt himself tense up when she appeared.
Shawna and Skylar preceded her down the narrow stone aisle to the altar where the Reverend Massey waited, smiling benignly.
Shawna’s family was in attendance along with some of the villagers, who provided a certain credibility and a festive air to the hastily arranged ceremony.