The Marriage Contract by Cathy Maxwell Read Free Book Online Page B

put his arm around the shoulder of youngest and prettiest Whiskey Girl, who to Anne’s surprise stepped back. “I’ll not be going with a married man, even if he is a laird. My mother didn’t raise me that way.”
    “Don’t worry,” Aidan assured her. “My wife will not be with us long.” He raised his voice to reach every corner of the courtyard. “This is Miss Anne—” He paused. “What is your last name?”
    “Black,” she said defiantly, giving his surname.
    “It is not Black.”
    “It is.” Anne hated arguing this point in front of everyone but she had no choice. “I have my marriage papers to prove it.” She held up Hugh’s hunting sack where she’d stuffed the documents in with her clothing.
    Aidan pleaded his case to his clan. “It’s a proxy marriage,” he explained. “I’ve never set eyes on this woman before in my life until today. Hugh and Deacon can tell you it’s true.”
    “It’s true,” Deacon agreed readily, helping himself to the keg of ale.
    Anne frowned. Deacon had been set against her from the beginning. But if Aidan could present his story to the people, so could she. She turned in the direction of the woman who had complained earlier about the Whiskey Girls. “Lord Tiebauld’s sister Lady Waldo chose me. He has a responsibility to his title. She felt it was time your laird took a wife.”
    “Especially one who looks like she’s been rolled around in a dustbin,” Deacon said slyly.
    The mean-spirited comment stunned Anne, but to her surprise, her husband championed her. “I’ve warned you once, Deacon. Leave the lass alone.” He then said to her, “But don’t think I’ve changed my mind. You leave tomorrow.”
    Not if I consummate the marriage tonight, her wily inner voice said. Fatigue vanished, to be replaced with a sense of purpose. “My documents are legal. Icould present them to your clergyman and he would support me.”
    “There are no clergy at Kelwin,” Aidan told her. “I am the laird. I am the law. Give it up, Anne. Your claim won’t stand.”
    She glanced at the faces of those who watched their exchange with avid interest and realized he was right. However, she would not leave, not without a fight. She changed the subject. “I am tired. I wish to go to bed.”
    The interpreted meaning of her words didn’t sink in until several people raised eyebrows and more than a few whispered and guffawed.
    “Hush, now, she’s an innocent,” Aidan announced, clearly irritated by their speculation. In a curt tone, he told Anne, “Come along.” He started for the castle’s front door but stopped to look at the Whiskey Girl who he had flung his arm around. “I’ll be seeing you later, Cora.”
    A chorus of “oooo’s” went up around Anne. It took all her courage to follow her disgraceful husband into the castle. If he thought she was going to ignore such a slight, he was wrong. Of course, right now, she had no choice but to trail in his wake, along with what seemed to be an army of dogs in many different sizes and varied dubious heritage. The smallest one almost tripped her when it crossed her path. She had barely noticed it in the shadows.
    Fortunately, she didn’t fall. She couldn’t have stood the humiliation. Not right now, when everything was so raw.
    The main door was tall and narrow. She’d remodel to widen it if she had her preference, especially since she had to wait for the pack of dogs to trot happily after their master. It led though a narrow alcove designed to keep cold air out of the main room, although it smelled of wet dog.
    Deacon held the door open for her. “Countess,” he murmured as she passed. She snubbed him.
    Hugh followed at a safer distance.
    Again, Anne waited for doggie feet to precede hers before she entered the main room. But once she did, she was wonderfully surprised.
    It was a true medieval great hall with an arched ceiling supported by oak trusses blackened by age. Torches in wall sconces lit the room with