Page 56 of A Highlander's Vow

A slight knock on the door drew her away from her thoughts. Without invitation, The Gunn opened the door and looked her up anddown. “Ye will do. When ye are married to me, ye will burn all yer clothes and have new ones made that appeal to me.”

Megan drew herself up. “I will ne’er be married to ye.”

He strode across the room and leaned into her face. “Once we are married—and wewillbe married—ye will hold yer tongue or spend a great deal of time recovering.”

She shivered, praying once again that Gregory had seen Mrs. Bruce and received her necklace.

The Gunn grabbed her arm and practically dragged her from the room. “We are expected at Holyroodhouse to see the king. Ye will behave yerself or pay the price once we leave.” He put his hand to her back and pushed her.

Megan stumbled, but caught herself before she fell. The Gunn continued to drag her down the stairs and out of the inn. There was a carriage a few feet from the door with a very bored driver sitting at the top.

The Gunn shoved her into the carriage. Anthony was already inside and caught her before she hit the floor of the vehicle.

She sat across from him and smoothed out the garment they had provided her. At least they’d gotten enough petticoats that once she put her arisaid on she felt covered. Somehow they had managed to clean the garment, and she was thankful they did not make her wear the Gunn plaid to appear before the king.

Once they arrived and climbed out of the carriage, she suddenly felt extremely nervous. She looked up at the building and realized she could very well leave there annulled from Gregory and married to The Gunn.

She broke into a sweat and felt as though she would faint. Once more The Gunn grabbed her arm and moved her forward.

They were left waiting in a small room for over an hour. Finally, a courtier arrived and said the king would see them. Again Megan felt as though she would faint and her legs felt like water.

They arrived in front of King George II. If Megan had not been so terrified she would have given the king more notice. But to her he was the man who could destroy her life.

“What is this nonsense that is brought before me? Why can’t you Highlanders keep from fighting all the time? You take up my time to resolve issues you should settle yourselves.”

Sinclair bowed before the king and said, “I am sorry to take up yer time, Yer Majesty, but this is an issue that only ye can resolve.”

The king said nothing, but waved him on.

“My nephew, Robert Sinclair, Laird of Sinclair clan died unexpectedly in a minor battle. As is the law, his wife, Megan Sinclair came under my protection.”

The king didn’t comment only waved for him to continue.

“In order to keep my niece Megan Sinclair protected and cared for, I arranged a betrothal agreement between her and Laird Stephen Angus Gunn.”

“And why am I involved in this?” The king asked.

“Because apparently my nephew made an agreement with Gregory Mackenzie to marry his wife should he die.”

“And?” The king said.

“Gregory Mackenzie kidnapped my niece and stole her away.” He fumbled a bit and withdrew the fake message. “I have here in my possession a letter Mackenzie wrote himself saying he only married the lass to fulfill a vow. He is more than happy to have Your Majesty annul the marriage so she is free to marry Laird Gunn.”

Even though Megan believed in her heart that Gregory never wrote that missive, her stomach twisted at hearing those words spoken out loud.

Her head jerked up as the door to the room opened with such force it slammed against the wall. Fighting off two guards, Gregory stormed into the room. Her heart leapt in her chest and she felt weak at the knees. He came to an abrupt stop, took one look at Megan andheld out his arms. “Come here, Wife.”

With a sob, she wrenched her arm from The Gunn and flew across the room and slammed into Gregory, wrapping her arms and legs around him so tightly it was a miracle the man could breathe. She looked up at him, smiling into his deep blue eyes with love and relief. “Ye came. Thank God.”

“I told ye I would no’ let ye go.” He grinned as he looked down at her, cupping her face in his large, warm hand. “Do ye no’ trust me, Wife?”