Daniel suddenly reached out to stroke Mary's cheek with the back of his hand.

Mary was so surprised by the caress she forgot to move away. She was quite mesmerized by the tender look in Daniel's eyes.

"I've already got a strong horse," Daniel stated. "As for sheep, Mary, well, there are plenty grazing in the mountains back home. But a soft, willing woman, now, lass, it's a pity to admit I'm lacking one of those. It's important to me, even though it's last on my list."

"I'm not soft," Mary blurted out.

"Aye, you are," Daniel countered. "And as lovely as a spring morning," he added.

Mary's blush deepened until her face was the color of fire. "I'm neither lovely nor willing, milord," she announced. She folded her arms across her chest and concentrated on giving him a good frown. She wanted to discourage the handsome devil, yet was horribly confused by her own reaction to him. His flattery was making her light-headed. Did he really think she was lovely?

The twins started crying again. Jamie was about to give them another rebuke when it occurred to her that one or both had been chosen as brides. If that was the case, and she guessed it was, Alice and Agnes were certainly entitled to their tantrum. They could wail like wolves and it would be fine with her.

Alec simply waited for the truth to hit her. He saw the sympathetic look she was giving her sisters, wondered how long it would take her to notice they were looking at her with the identical expression.

Baron Jamison would certainly set Jamie straight, once he'd regained his composure, Alec decided. The man was still close to weeping. He'd argued something fierce when Alec had casually stated he'd chosen Jamie for his bride.

Alec had been firm with the baron. He had controlled his temper until Jamison quit sputtering and began to list all the selfish reasons he had for being against the union. None of the reasons had anything to do with Jamie's well-being. Alec's attitude hardened then. He was infuriated with the Englishman. The list of duties certainly explained the calluses on Jamie's hands. Jamison didn't want to keep his youngest by his side because of love. He wanted only a slave at his beck and call. The youngest, in Alec's opinion, was literally in bondage.

A worried-looking servant came rushing into the great hall. He gave Baron Jamison only a brief glance before hurrying over to Jamie. After completing an awkward bow, the servant whispered, "The priest be on his way, mistress. He's dressed in his wedding vestments."

Jamie nodded to the servant. "It was good of you to quit your duties to fetch Father Charles, George. Would you like to stay for the weddings?"

The servant had a look of adoration in his eyes. "I ain't dressed for it," he whispered.

"Neither are we," Jamie whispered back.

"Go and change your gown, Mary," Daniel interjected. "I'm partial to gold. If you've a gown in that color, wear it to please me. If not, white will do well enough. I'm wedding you, Lady Mary."

Lord Daniel Ferguson caught Lady Mary before she hit the floor. He wasn't at all irritated that his intended had just fainted dead away, and he actually let out a full burst of laughter as he swept Mary up into his arms and held her against his chest.

"She's overcome with gratitude, Alec," Daniel called out to his friend.

"Aye, Daniel, I can see she is," Alec answered.

Jamie couldn't keep her anger controlled another minute. She turned to confront Alec. Her hands rested on her hips in a stance that was clearly a challenge.

"Well? Which one of the twins are you going to wed?"

"Neither."

"Neither?"

She still hadn't caught on. Alec sighed. "Change your gown, Jamie, if that's your inclination. I prefer white. Now go and do my bidding. The hour grows late and we must be on our way."

He'd deliberately lengthened his speech, giving her time to react to his announcement. He thought he was being most considerate.

She thought he was demented.

Jamie was, at first, too stunned to do more than stare in horror at the warlord.

When she finally gained her voice, she shouted, "It will be a frigid day in heaven before I marry you, milord, a frigid day indeed."

"You've just described the Highlands in winter, lass. And you will marry me."

"Never."

Exactly one hour later, Lady Jamison was wed to Alec Kincaid.

Chapter Four

She wore black to her wedding. Her choice of attire was a purely defiant gesture meant to infuriate the Scotsman. Jamie knew her plan had failed, however, the minute she walked back into the great hall. Alec took one look at her and started laughing. The booming sound nearly felled the rafters.

Jamie didn't have any idea how much her rebellious nature pleased him, else she never would have gone to such lengths to provoke him, Alec decided. Had she known how much he detested tears, she probably would have wept. Alec didn't think she'd be as convincing as her twin sisters, though. Jamie moved like a queen. Her back was as straight as a clean lance, she bowed her head to no man, and he decided it would have cost her mightily to affect any female weakness.

She was dressed for mourning, but she still looked magnificent. Her eyes continued to captivate him. He wondered if he'd ever get used to her beauty.

Lord, he certainly hoped so. He couldn't allow any interference in his primary duties.

The lass was turning out to be quite a puzzle. He knew she was English born and raised, yet she didn't appear to be the least bit cowardly. Alec wondered how that miracle had come about, then concluded her innocence and lack of fear stemmed from the fact that she'd never been tainted by King Henry's sordid court life. By the grace of God, Lady Jamie hadn't been exposed to the English inclination for debauchery.

The Kincaid had Baron Jamison to thank, he supposed, for failing to do his duty for his daughters. He wasn't about to mention his gratitude, though, and doubted Jamie's father would have heard a word anyway. The man was actually crying now.

Alec was too disgusted to speak to the man. He'd never seen a grown man humiliate himself in such a foul way. It turned his stomach.

"We're all very close to our father," Jamie whispered when the baron couldn't answer the priest's question as to who was giving the brides away. The baron's face was hidden in his soggy linen cloth. "Papa's going to miss us, milord. This is most difficult for him."

She hadn't looked up at Alec when she made her whispered excuse for her father's shameful conduct, but the plea was there, in her husky voice. She was asking for his understanding, he knew, and he found her defense of her father worthy enough to make him keep his unfavorable opinion to himself.

She'd just given him another glimpse into her character, for her plea told him she was loyal to her family. He thought that was a noble quality under any circumstance, and given the character of the members of her family, Jamie's loyalty bordered on sainthood.

Jamie was too terrified to look up at her intended. She and her sister stood side by side, holding on to each other's hands for comfort. Daniel stood on Mary's right and Alec was positioned on Jamie's left. Alec's arm touched her shoulder and his thigh brushed against her. Deliberately, repeatedly.

She couldn't move away from him. Mary was squeezed up against her side and Alec's arm blocked the possibility of a step back. Lord, how she hated being frightened. She wasn't used to such feelings. She told herself it was because he was so big. He towered over her like a huge, angry cloud. He smelled of heather and masculinity, a bit of leather, too, and under more pleasing conditions, she might have found his scent appealing. Now, of course, she detested his size, his scent, his very presence.