The Scottish Bride - Catherine Coulter [59]
It made little impact, really, for it was naught but ignorant words, cruel words, sparked by unreasoning anger. There was, he had learned, too much unreasoning anger in this world. He said, “Do you love Mary Rose Fordyce?”
Erickson stopped dead in his tracks, a sleek dark brow up a good inch. “Good God, man, I want to marry her!”
“I see. So to convince her of your sincere regard, of your lasting affection, you were going to rape her? To escape you, she had to jump into the stream?”
“Damn you, there was never a question of rape. You’re a vicar. You don’t understand how females behave, what lengths they will go to in order to make a man grovel at their dainty feet. Mary Rose is very much a female. She is coy, she teases, she pretends to become hysterical, all to get her way. All her denials, her small dramatic gesture of jumping into that ridiculous stream, it was just a simple performance, a show of melodrama. She wants to marry me, to give her status, to give her a real name, for God’s sake. She’s through with her fun. She will marry me now. I will speak to her and you will see that she has quite changed her mind.”
“All right, then,” Tysen said, rising. “I will take you to see her. However, I will remain to ensure that you do not try to coerce her or bully her. I would say, though, that her jump into that stream—although you prefer to believe it merely a girl’s teasing gesture—rather proves to me that she would do just about anything to escape you. No, you will not rant further. Be quiet and listen to me.
“She has been quite ill. You will not try to threaten her in any way, is that perfectly clear to you?”
Erickson stared at the far-too-handsome man, damn him, who was a bloody vicar, who was looking at him as if he was worth very little and full of naught save wind. He wanted to bash his face in, break that nose of his. Make him ugly. Yes, he wanted to beat him until he was so ugly Mary Rose wouldn’t want to ever look at him again.
Was that why Mary Rose didn’t want him? She wanted the bloody vicar who was also Lord Barthwick? He said slowly, “Why did she come here, to Kildrummy Castle?”
“To escape you yet again. Now, would you like to speak to her, to assure yourself that she indeed improves? I will give you five minutes, no more. She must rest. She is still very weak.”
Mary Rose wasn’t alone. Meggie was curled next to her on the bed, one of her small hands on Mary Rose’s arm, both of them fast asleep. At the sound of her father’s low voice, Meggie jerked up and blinked. She pushed her hair out of her face.
She shot a quick look at Mary Rose and whispered, “Papa, I wanted to guard Mary Rose, but I fell asleep. She is all right, isn’t she? Oh, my, isn’t that Mr. MacPhail with you? Why is he here?”
“He wants to speak to Mary Rose,” Tysen said, his voice as emotionless as he could make it. He saw the change in his daughter’s posture, in the expression on her small face, and wanted to smile. She drew herself up and said, “Very well—if she awakens. I believe she is now stirring. He may speak to her, but I will remain. He will not distress her.”
“Well, MacPhail?” Tysen asked, turning to face the man, who looked both furious and bemused.
“For God’s sake, man, she is a child. Make her leave.”
“Oh, no, she considers herself Mary Rose’s protector. Ah, yes, Mary Rose just opened her eyes. Remain where you are a moment and I will tell her that you are here.” He paused, adding, “Naturally I will reassure her that you can attempt nothing that she would dislike.”
He heard Erickson MacPhail cursing under his breath behind him. Rather vivid and varied animal parts, but not as colorful as his brother Ryder’s Beloved Ones, who could spit out the most rank curses, even better than sailors raised in the king’s navy. He walked to the bed, smiled down at Mary Rose, and took her hand between his. “Do not be alarmed. You have a visitor, but he will not upset you in any way. Both Meggie and I swear it to you. He simply wishes to