The Marriage Contract by Cathy Maxwell Read Free Book Online

forget thismoment, every sight, every smell. Even the night air had taken on a different, more velvet texture as they’d approached the gates.
    When the horses’ hooves thudded hollowly over the wooden bridge above a dry moat, Anne could have laughed with joy. She craned her neck to see everything about the stone entrance, even in the dark.
    The courtyard was well lit with burning torches and alive with activity. People milled about. Men, women, children. And dogs. Anne didn’t think she’d ever seen so many different canine shapes and sizes all in one place.
    As her husband charged into the courtyard on his mighty steed, the people started cheering. Exactly as anyone should if they lived in a castle.
    “Did you kill the wildcat?” a short, grizzled-hair man demanded.
    “Aye, Fang, did you think I would not?” her husband answered.
    Fang laughed. “I knew you would never live it down if you came back empty-handed.”
    Deacon held up the wildcat’s body and the crowd roared. It was a hero’s welcome. Anne glanced at her husband, seeing him with new eyes. These people adored him. They must be his clansmen— her clansmen, now.
    “He did it with his bare hands,” Deacon told them. “And saved this lass’s life as well.” He gestured toward Anne and everyone turned to gape at her.
    His actions surprised Anne. She been too caught up in the moment to prepare for introductions. Self-consciously, she raised her hand to her hair, expecting to be introduced as Lord Tiebauld’s countess.
    Instead, Deacon was done. Her marriage was not announced and her husband didn’t seem to feel a need to correct the oversight.
    In fact, the clanspeople appeared more interested in Todd’s body and the story of the coach wreck. They didn’t even want her to tell it. Deacon, Hugh, and her husband told the tale—and they hadn’t even been there!
    “Oh, the poor girl,” several whispered to the others, casting Anne in the role of tragic heroine—and promptly lost even that little interest once the ale keg was rolled out.
    Aidan swung off his horse. Anne straightened, expecting him to help her down, but he didn’t. Instead, he strode off for the keg, throwing orders over his shoulder for several of the lads to see to Todd’s body, without so much as a backward glance at Anne. Fang handed him a foaming tankard of ale. He drained it in one gulp and called for another.
    Even the thoughtful Hugh had deserted her, losing himself to the charms of three young women who threw their arms around him and showered his face with kisses.
    Anne looked away, embarrassed by such blatant behavior…although she did sneak another peek. She could almost hear her Aunt Maeve hissing that decent women shouldn’t act that way—yet Hugh appeared happy.
    What was worse, Anne didn’t know how to gracefully slide off this mountain of a horse.
    So she sat there, feeling awkward and alone. Several of the women sent puzzled, surreptitious glances in her direction, but no one approached. She could imagine them whispering amongst themselves, talking about her.
    Anne acted as if she did not notice. This first reception at Kelwin was very much like the balls and routs of the ton —she was the wallflower. Again.
    The trick was to behave as if she belonged there. She affected an air of disinterest, pretending her husband’s desertion was understandable and she had some true purpose for sitting on this beast of an animal. She shifted her focus away from the people with their prying eyes and focused instead on the castle surroundings.
    Torchlight danced along the crumbling line of the ancient stone walls, and for the first time she realized a good portion of her castle was in ruins. At one time, this had been a formidable keep, but that had to have been ages ago. Someone had already worked hard to rebuild a portion of the walls, but there was still much to be done.
    “Those Whiskey Girls are the disgrace of Caithness,” a woman’s voice whispered to