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be my wife.”
    “ Then I am offering you no
kiss,” she said quietly. “And when it comes to the other…uh, duties
that go along with being a wife, I shall not be doing any of those,
either.”
    He rested a hand on the wall beside her
head. Laughter rose up in him. “What duties are you talking
about?”
    Her face flushed scarlet. “All of them.
Whatever they may be.”
    “ Such as sharing my
bed?”
    She nodded. Red as it was, he could see in
her face a look of confidence for the first time. She was a
fighter.
    “ And I remind you of your
honor, laird. Taking what I do not offer would break your promise.
And what honor is there in a laird who cannot keep a
promise?”
    “ You will share my bed, and
you do so willingly.”
    She stared at him for a long moment. “You
are quite wrong about that, and I know you shall soon see how
mistaken you are. But after a fortnight or so of travel to Fleet
Tower, you shall have ample time to consider the attractiveness of
such a marriage. For I promise you there shall be no heirs. No
legitimate ones, at least.” She smiled up at him for the first
time. “And what tragedy for your clan, considering you were the
only son.”
    Iain smiled back at her. “Talk as you will,
my sweet. I have no worries that you will share my bed…and
happily.”
    Marion placed her palm squarely on his chest
and pushed him backward. “You may live your life in a fantasy
world,” she said, moving past him to the window. “But that is as
far as it will go.”
    Iain crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder
against the wall, watching her. Turning her back on him, she let
her hair down and shook the flour from it. The waves of dark locks
hung nearly to her waist. Without a glance back at him, Marion
picked up a brush and began to run it through her hair.
    He felt the tightening in his loins. Making
a fantasy real would certainly make the journey to Blackthorn Hall
very entertaining.

CHAPTER 4
     
    “ You will obey the wishes
of your future husband and prepare yourself for leaving
today.”
    Marion squirmed but bit back her objection
to the prioress’s command. The Armstrong laird had gruffly and
reluctantly agreed to wait outside while the two women exchanged
some private words, and Marion had felt a moment of hope.
    The moment had been short-lived, however.
The truth was that there had been no exchange of anything. The
older nun had not even paused for breath in her lecture on Marion’s
responsibilities as the McCall heir. The younger woman figured
Brother Luke, who was also waiting outside with his nephew, had
whispered a thing or two to the prioress before Marion and Iain
arrived at the Chapter House.
    To Marion's thinking, the prioress was the
wrong person to make this decision, since the nun’s entire life had
been about sacrifice and responsibility. The prioress had been the
undisputed overseer of these lands for more than forty years. From
the time she had proved herself able at the age of twenty-two, no
one had ever thought of challenging her authority. She had always
been fair but strict in her administration. Over the years, she had
earned the respect of those around her, but had demanded obedience
as her due. Through times of turbulence and times of peace, she had
drawn a straight line, and almost all had followed where she led.
She liked the life in the priory orderly and serene.
    Twelve years of insubordination on Marion’s
part had not made anyone’s life easy. Without a doubt all the
trouble she’d caused had made the prioress’s decision simpler.
Marion and the prioress had had many differences of opinion over
the years. And it had all led to this. Marion now had to pay for
her transgressions by leaving without further dispute.
    “ Go ask the laird and his
uncle to come back in,” the prioress said.
    Over the years, experience had taught Marion
that becoming emotional or throwing a tantrum would have no effect
on the old woman. The prioress was at least a head shorter