Arsenic and Old Armor Read Online Free PDF

and the air wafting in was fresh and warm. A narrow,
tidily made bed sat against one wall, and the red-and-green plaid
of the McCall tartan spread across it brightened the chamber. A
chest and a table and stool completed the furnishings. He kicked
the door shut with his foot and dropped her on the bed. She
immediately sat up.
    “ I am sorry about the
bruises to your head,” he said, seeing her rubbing a few of the
spots and looking around in a daze. He crouched before her and
lifted her chin. “But such blows can only leave a bruise…not incur
madness or loss of memory or forgetfulness or the inability to
speak. In so many words, lass, I am on to your sly
tricks.”
    Her eyes cleared, and she pushed his hand
away.
    “ I hate you.”
    “ You don’t,” Iain said
calmly. The white veil she had been wearing had dropped back onto
her shoulders and for couple of moments, he found himself staring
at the dark curls dancing around her face. Most of her hair was
pulled back in a thick braid and bundled in a knot at the back of
her neck. Her face was still covered with flour, her black eyes
glaring beneath thick lashes. He realized he was very eager to see
her cleaned up.
    “ You do not trust me nor
care for me,” she said in a low, husky voice. “There is no reason
for us to wed. Why don’t you just gather your men and leave me
here?”
    On his route here, he’d been tempted a
number of times to do just that. He was fourteen years her senior.
His taste ran to older women who brought some experience of
lovemaking to his bed. Iain did not think he had the patience to
deal with even a fraction of the trouble Marion had been as a
child. Temperamental, stubborn, loud. He had hoped the convent life
had beaten some of it out of her. Obviously, it hadn’t. He was
here, though, and it was too late to walk away.
    “ We can do this the easy
way or the hard way,” he explained. “You are coming back with me to
Fleet Tower.”
    “ Not as your
wife.”
    “ As my
wife ,” he stated.
    “ Why?”
    “ Because our fathers and
their fathers wanted it that way. Because it is best for our
people. And because it is in the best interest of Scotland to do
so.”
    “ That is a lie.” She shoved
at his chest and tried to get up.
    He pushed her back onto the bed. She landed
hard on her buttocks. “Why are you being so difficult? You were
ready to marry me at the age of six. Why not now?”
    “ I was a wee, blind
simpleton at the age of six. I have grown, seen the world, learned
about people.”
    “ All from inside the walls
of a convent in Skye?” he asked mockingly.
    “ Yes. And what I see now is
that you are the
simpleton, and I do not wish to marry you.”
    “ My apologies, lass, but it
is too late for such antics.” He smiled smugly and put a hand on
Marion’s shoulder, forcing her to stay put. “Now, here is the plan.
You may wash your face and change your clothes and pack whatever
you need to bring in the same small trunk you brought with you when
you came. Then, you and I are going to say our farewells to the
prioress and whomever else you please. We shall be on the road by
noon and if the weather remains clear, we shall be back at
Blackthorn Hall in a week, just in time for our wedding. Is that
all perfectly clear?”
    She shoved his hand off her shoulder. “And
here is my plan—”
    “ I am not interested in
hearing your plans.”
    “ You arrogant bully. How
dare you—”
    “ My schedule is simply
derived from plans already in place…plans your troublesome delays
have jeopardized,” he said seriously. “The date, the time, the list
of invited guests…all of that…was decided by those at Stirling and
Westminster. Both the Stewart and Tudor courts believe our little
union shall help put an end to all the troubles in our part of the
Borders.”
    “ By his wounds, what have
you been doing all these years, marauding and pillaging helpless
crofters? Why is there suddenly such interest in our wee patch