Maiden of Inverness Read Online Free PDF

would take more than harsh words to deter him. “A husband is entitled to look at his wife.” For effect, he added, “And more.”
    She swallowed and licked her lips, her eyes glittering with alarm. “Will you ravish me?”
    That brought him up short. “You think I will force you?”
    She scanned the cabin, then gave him a look rife with irony. “Force seems to be your way.”
    He fought back a smile at her clever logic. Lord, he’d enjoy trading barbs with her and wooing her back into the Scottish fold. “Do not despair. I will ravish you well and often, once you take the sword of Chapling from your father and give it to me.”
    She relaxed and pitched her waist-length hair over her shoulder. “Your chivalry has a base purpose. You will not exercise your husbandly rights now, because the Maiden must be pure of body and spirit when she demands the sword from her father and passes it to her husband.”
    She spoke of the Maiden as someone else. He’d change that, too. For now, he was grateful that she had at last broached the subject of her duty. “Do not forget that you must also be pure of heart.”
    Her gaze sharpened. “How do you know so much about the traditions required of the Maiden?”
    He had committed to memory every tenet of the Covenent of the Maiden. Should he tell her that he had taken seriously her long-ago plea that he protect the sacred book? Perhaps later. For now, he would mince words. “ ’Tis a trait any man would desire in his wife.”
    She drew back, leaving the air scented with the very English and detestable smell of honeysuckle. “You’ll get nothing from me.”
    â€œAye, I will. You’ll give me the sword of Chapling.” And he’d bathe her in heather.
    She studied him, from the mussed strands of his hair to the symbols of rank that adorned his wrists and war boots. A knowing grin gave her a siren’s appeal. “Were you my only choice of mates, Revas Macduff, I would willingly go to my grave an innocent.”
    He’d been too bold, but he knew no other way, and he could not retreat now. “I am your choice of husbands until you go to your grave.”
    â€œPity your mother did not go to her grave virtuous.”
    Laughter threatened to burst from him. “Alas, my maiden bride,” he said, “I expect we’ll manage well enough. Your cutting wit promises to enlighten the loneliest of my nights.”
    â€œBe careful, my daring husband, lest you bleed to death in your sleep.”
    Inwardly he winced at the verbal blow. “ ’Twill be enjoyable, seeing you yield to the lure of the Highlands.”
    â€œI’d sooner drag a dung cart through a bog.” Chin high, shoulders squared, she moved around him and opened the door. “Now get out.”
    Past achieving a graceful exit, Revas stepped into the companionway. She could not escape him now. “Rest well, Maiden.”
    â€œMaiden?” She snatched up his cloak and threw it at him. “I’m no virgin.”
    Struck dumb, Revas watched as she slammed the door and threw the bolt.
    Not a virgin. A denial roared inside him, and his fingers crushed the fabric of his cloak. She had to be innocent. She’d been bred into a code of feminine honor as old as Saint Columba. For centuries the women of her clan had shaped the destiny of the Highlands. Like her mother, some of the Maidens had failed in their marriages and chosen poor husbands. Like her namesake, other Maidens had prospered. It was all written in the Covenant. She knew the rules, the risks, and the rewards. So did he. And when the book was passed to their daughter, Revas would see Meridene add her page to the chronicle and, with God’s help, name her husband a truehearted king of the Highlands.
    It had to be.
    He had devoted his life to righting the wrongs of her father, Cutberth Macgillivray, and winning a kingdom to lay