Mystic Mountains

the pony's bridle with ribbons and flowers, but apart from that and the small posy Isabella held no one would suspect it was a wedding party. Gillie drove so that Dougal could sit in the back with Isabella, but from the few words passed between them Dougal might as well have sat up the front.
    Isabella suspected shyness accounted for Dougal 's withdrawn look and uncomfortable silence. If she didn’t know better she would have thought him sullen, but Dougal was never moody.
    "Well, how does it feel to be a married man?" Gillie asked, reaching behind him to slap Dougal's shoulder.
    Dougal gave Isabella a sidelong glance before answering, "I must say I didn 't ever think this day would come. Never reckoned I'd be the one to win Bella's hand, Gillie. I'm a happy man this day."
    But something about his manner didn 't proclaim happiness. In fact Isabella had the odd feeling he was as miserable as her.
    How odd men were. Dougal knew she didn 't love him. Knew she carried another man's child. Likely guessed she would probably love Tiger forever despite the way he'd treated her. Yet here he was, still prepared to be her husband. Instead of instilling love and pride in her, it did the opposite. She had never felt scorn or disdain for him, but those feelings were uppermost in her now, just behind the disgust she held for herself.
    When they reached home, Gillie said, "We'll get changed and head off back to the flock," as they all climbed from the wagon.
    Tiger said, "Time for a glass or two to toast the happy couple. Let 's get inside now. I'll unhitch the pony later, Dougal."
    As far as Isabella could tell his face and voice were devoid of any emotion. Dougal nodded but didn 't look at Tiger as he took Isabella's elbow and led her inside in a proprietary way that set her teeth on edge. It hit Isabella then that Dougal hadn't spared Tiger a glance all day.
    They trooped inside and Tiger took down a flagon of rum from the dresser. Pouring a generous portion into five goblets he handed one to each of them.
    "To the happy pair. May they be blessed with many pleasurable years together. Good health and happiness." Tiger watched Isabella over the rim of his goblet as he put it to his lips.
    "Good health and happiness," Thelma and Gillie echoed, swallowing their drink.
    "You 're not drinking, Bella," Tiger said softly, lifting his golden brows.
    "I don 't think it would be good for the babe." She tossed her head defiantly.
    "Ah, yes, the baby. We must take care of the little fellow, mustn 't we, eh?" His lips curved in a mirthless smile. She felt like slapping it off his cruel mouth.
    "I must," she agreed, returning his stare arrogantly.
    "Ah well, I'll just nip and get changed," Dougal said, rather loudly, putting his empty goblet down and wiping a hand across his mouth. Throwing a scowl Tiger's way, he gave Isabella such a puzzling look she reared back. Perhaps she was imagining things but he seemed angry enough to burst. Which was so unlike Dougal, she frowned after him as he left the room.
    "I 'll change too," Thelma said, following Gillie out.
    "Alone at last," Tiger said softly.
    "I'm going to take off this fancy gown and get into my plain work clothes," Isabella told him, edging around the table. He took a step closer, blocking her path.
    "It 's tradition to kiss the bride. You haven't yet given me a kiss, my sweet." 
    "I told you. Touch me and I 'll kill you."
    "Come now, Bella, don 't you wish to thank me for your delightful gown and the fine clothes I bought for your husband?" Reaching out he ran a finger down the front of the bodice, lingering on a ribbon that fell just above her breast.
    Isabella flinched. "Thank you? The words would choke me. I never asked you for anything and only take them because I have no other choice. After all, you own me." She shoved his hand away.
    "And don't you forget it. Now, give the man who owns you a kiss of thanks."
    He moved swiftly , and before Isabella could make her escape, had her clasped in his arms, one hand at her spine, the other behind her head, positioning her for his kiss.
    Isabella thought of screaming. Thelma was not far away, but as she opened her mouth to yell Tiger swooped. Isabella did the first thing that came to mind. She bit his lip.
    "Ouch. You wretch!" He stepped back, stroking his tongue over the drop of blood she'd drawn.
    "I may not be able to kill you, but I 'll fight you in any way I can, Tiger Carstairs. Leave me be."
    "Jesus. " He turned away, and Isabella