“No one disrespects my orders, Jemma.”

Gordon was furious, but she refused to bow her head. “Of course, but I need to make it clear to your clanswomen that I do not need anyone coming to my aid simply because I am English. I took care of Anyon well enough, and I will defend myself if any of them find it necessary to attack me, even if I do find it horrible to harbor such hatred for complete strangers based only on where they were born.”

Several sputters arose from the laundresses, and Jemma turned her head to glare at them. “Do you deny it? There is nothing that you object to in me but the fact that I was born ten miles from here on land that is considered English. It is naught but something you learned from your—”

She lost focus of what point she was attempting to make, her mind simply going blank. Shutting her mouth, she stared back at the laundresses until she forgot why she was looking at them. Turning her head, she discovered Gordon standing only a foot from her.

“Well, as you see, I handled everything myself. I meant no disrespect of course.”

“Aye, of course.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Her thoughts began to turn hazy. “I believe so . . . hmm . . . what did I say again?”

His blue eyes suddenly fascinated her. He caught her arms and she sighed, because it was the most perfect moment. His gaze settled on the top of her head, and he reached up to touch her, triggering a startling pain that spread through her head.

“Yer head needs stitching, Jemma.”

She offered only a soft mutter before everything became a blur of morning sunlight. Bright and perfect with each point of light shattering into a brilliant display of colors that she smiled at.

“So why is she still sleeping?”

Jemma winced and opened her eyes to see Gordon pacing. He didn’t pace like any other worried person she’d ever seen walk the floor. Gordon stalked. His feet taking huge steps that covered the length of the bed she lay on in three short strides. He froze when he noticed her looking at him.

“There, ye see? Exactly as I said. The girl is fine. She was lucky to sleep through the stitching.”

Gordon grunted. Ula stood near the bed along with another woman who had white hair. She seemed unimpressed with her laird’s disgruntlement.

“Leave yer head be, girl. I had to stitch ye up, but it’s in yer hair so the scar won’t bother ye any once it’s healed.”

“Stitched me up?” Jemma didn’t stop, but reached for the throbbing spot on the top of her head. She fingered it gently, wincing at the pain that bled out from the light contact.

The woman grunted. “Ye don’t mind very well. Maybe the laird is right to be suspicious. Could be her mind is wounded.”

“My mind is not wounded.”

Gordon snorted, but there was relief in his eyes. “She sounds quite normal to me. Ye have my gratitude for yer service, Vanora.”

“Seeing the lass well is enough for me. Do ye want me to get on with inspecting her so that ye can marry?”

“I didn’t promise to marry him.”

Vanora turned a curious stare toward her. “Well now, girl, if that’s so, I wonder where ye get the idea to argue so publicly with the laird. I thought surely ye were his bride, and even then, I still wonder how ye thought to escape being chastised for such. But if ye are nae his bride-to-be, well, I believe that Anyon will have a bit of company in the stocks.”

“Give us a moment alone.”

Ula and Vanora both inclined their heads before leaving the chamber.

“I shouldn’t have argued with you in public, I know that, but I’m not saying it to avoid the stocks, either.”

“Then why are ye saying it, lass?” Gordon crossed his arms over his chest, looking far too forbidding. It was another glimpse at that part of him accustomed to being in command.

“Because it is true. This world needs its rules. Without authority there would be nothing but lawlessness.”

His expression softened, but that only drew her mind back to what had happened the last time he was alone with her in the chamber.

“That doesn’t mean I agree that Anyon should be lashed on my account.”

He growled at her, low and deep, leaving no doubt that he was growing frustrated with her.

“Since ye just agreed that rules are needed to maintain order, ye can nae disagree with me having her lashed. She tried to drown ye.”

Jemma sat up and felt her muscles ache with the effort. She tried to conceal the pain, but Gordon read it off her face and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“She’ll be getting those lashes, and those who stood there watching will be paying for it, too. I won’t stand for having the women of this castle acting like a pack of wild dogs.”

“To what end? Punishment will only make your people detest me more. Besides, I gave her what she deserved and I hope she has a bruise marking her face.” Jemma crawled to the edge of the bed, determined to make her point to the stubborn man. “So you can save your pampering, Gordon Dwyre. I have no need of it.”

“Well now, Jemma, that would leave me only tenderness and passion to give ye.” His eyes flashed with hunger as his hands cupped the sides of her face. “I suppose I could yield to yer desire if ye agree to become my wife.”

“But why would you want to wed me? Your people detest me.” She shook her head but stopped abruptly when pain shoot through her skull. “All you and I do is fight when we are alone.”

And end up kissing . . .

Her cheeks burned with her thoughts.

“That is nae the reason ye hesitate to agree, Jemma. I would know yer reason to resist our union.”

His eyes filled with challenge, but she shook off his hands to stand up.

“You want to know my reason? Well, sir, I don’t believe I know it myself. You brought me here only a few days past and set me here to deal with your mistress while taking away my boots to keep me from leaving. The hallway is rather chilly in the morning on bare feet, I can tell you. However much you might say you are outraged, I notice that you said nothing of sending her away. Did you soothe your desire last night with her once you left me? That would account for her temper this morning.”

Gordon crossed his arms over his chest. “She would have been content and smiling if I’d taken my hard cock to her yesterday. We had words last night that I should have realized might enrage her.”

Jemma felt her eyes widen. “You admit that you went to her last night after leaving me?”

Gordon shrugged, his body looking far too relaxed for the topic. Jemma felt as if her emotions were going to burst through her exterior and send her lunging toward him just like Anyon had attacked her. She was jealous and had no idea how to deal with it.

“I’ll tell ye straight that she was waiting on me when I left ye last evening, and offered herself to me.” He lifted a hand and pointed a thick finger at her. “But I didna use her, which accounts for her rage this morning. She’ll receive her lashes, and that will make an example to anyone else who might think to argue against who I bring here as my bride. Ye’ll be mistress here.”

“You mean I will be your wife.”

His forehead creased with confusion. “My wife will be the mistress of this castle. They are one and the same.”

“I don’t believe so. Those that you enjoy your riding with will always be considered more powerful than the Englishwoman you bring home for her dowry.”

He shook his head, but there was anger burning in his eyes. “Didna I prove anything to ye yesterday, Jemma? ’Twas yer trust I was hoping to secure by leaving ye a virgin.” He snorted. “I can see that has nae happened yet, but I swear that I will have ye one way or another.”

“Is that a threat?” She tossed her head and squared her shoulders. “Well, I am not frightened of you Gordon Dwyre.”

Only the way you make me feel.

He closed the distance between them, one hand cupping her chin in a firm hold.

“Which is why I promise ye that I will be sharing yer bed tonight. Ye aren’t afraid of me because ye feel the same attraction that I do, ’tis a powerful thing and neither of us will be happy until we stop denying it. I wanted to give ye time to become accustomed to it, but I will nae have yer place here questioned again.”

“Don’t you dare try to protect me.”

“And why not?” he snarled through his clenched teeth at her, obviously frustrated. “Not only am I laird here, but I brought ye here, Jemma, so protecting ye is a point of honor.”

“Would you allow me to step between you and any man that threatened you?”

He drew in a sharp breath. “I would not.”

“It is the same thing when you insist on stepping between me and your clanswomen. I’ll deal with the women who try their hand at intimidating me, and I want you to stay out of it. There will be no lashings unless I order them.”

“That would only be yer place if ye are my wife, Jemma.”

“Our courtship is not a classical one, grant me my will, Barras, even if you don’t agree it is my place to insist on it. I don’t want you sheltering me.”

He stiffened but held his next words back. Jemma watched him fight back the urge to order her to accept his will. She was asking too much for the world that they lived in. A woman’s place was beneath the authority of a man. She might also end up in the stocks with her back lashed for saying that she did not want to follow that natural order. It was considered unnatural and obviously something that needed to be cured.

Gordon suddenly chuckled. It wasn’t a nice sound but one of contemplation.

“I’ll grant the women mercy because I see that the only way I’ll earn yer trust is to recognize that ye need some of the same things that I do. Ye need to know that ye aren’t helpless, ’tis something I can see the value of. That is the reason we’re so drawn to each other, Jemma, we’re very much alike.”