Bhaltair's Pledge: Highlander Fate, Lairds of the Isles Book Two

by Knight, Stella

  It was only when they took a brief stop to water their horses that Bhaltair spoke, his eyes shadowed with trepidation.

  “I asked Hamish tae spy on my cousin,” he said, expelling a sigh.

  “I donnae want tae believe that my cousin could betray me—our family. Boyd trusted him. But he’s acting . . . oddly. And when he kept asking about Cadha . . . ”

  “I agree,” Avery said, offering a sympathetic smile. “But you don’t know if there’s anything amiss yet. Maybe he is genuinely worried about Cadha.”

  Avery doubted this, but she wanted to wipe the troubled look from Bhaltair’s handsome features.

  “Aye,” he murmured, shutting his eyes before turning his stormy gaze toward her.“This is why I wasnae meant tae lead. Boyd . . . he always kent what tae do.”

  “You’re doing a fine job,” Avery insisted. “Did you see the way those men looked at you? Like they would follow you into a fire if you asked. They trust you. That’s the mark of a leader.”

  Her words seemed to comfort him this time, and he gave her a tentative smile. He reached down, touching the side of her face, and a wave of heat swept over her.

  “I didnae like the way some of my men looked at ye,” he confessed, his voice husky. “Like they wanted tae bed ye. It made me want tae fight them. My own men.”

  “I think they were focused on the meeting,” she said, though she a shiver of delight ran through her at his words.

  “How could they?” he murmured. His hand moved down to cup her chin, tilting her head back. “When such a beauty is in their presence?”

  Avery suddenly couldn’t breathe. Still cupping her chin, his head dipped, his mouth crashing against hers. Heat seared through her, and she moaned as his tongue explored every inch of her mouth. He tasted of sweet ale, and as he pressed her body close to his, she could feel the strength of his arousal. She wound her arms around his neck, aching to feel every part of him against her. Bhaltair let out a low, sexy growl, setting Avery’s senses aflame with even more need.

  When he finally released her, they were both breathless, his eyes a storm of desire.

  “What is it about ye, sweet Avery?” he whispered. “I try tae resist ye, yet ye have me under yer spell. Is that what ye did? Crafted a spell tae ensnare me?”

  “N—no,” she stammered, gasping as he leaned down to press a kiss against her throat.

  “Ah,” he murmured, his voice a deep rumble against her skin. “So ’tis just ye, then.”

  He kissed her again before she could reply, this kiss even more demanding than the one before. His kisses were like a spell of their own, and Avery felt her desire come to life as she responded hungrily to him.

  When Bhaltair released her this time, he looked torn.

  “If only I’d met ye under different circumstances. But I didnae,” he murmured. “My niece, Clan Roideach . . . I need tae focus.”

  Avery’s body stiffened. He had kissed her breathless, and now he was rejecting her.

  She had to force herself to take a step back, to release herself from the magnetic pull he had on her body.

  “You’re right,” she made herself say. “I need to focus too. This won’t happen again.”

  Chapter 11

  It took great effort for Bhaltair to keep his gaze trained on the winding road ahead as he and Avery made their way back to the cottage. The memory of their kiss lingered: the sweet taste of her, the feel of her. He ached to stop their horses, to pull her into his arms again and kiss her breathless, to claim her body with his own.

  But her words returned to him, tempering his need and desire. This won’t happen again.

  She was right; he needed to keep his hands off her lovely body. He repeated what he’d been telling himself ever since she came into his life, that his attentions needed to center on protecting his niece, on stopping Clan Roideach, on his duties to the clan.

  Yet he felt less resolve now. He’d never ached for anyone the way he ached for Avery. And he doubted that the kiss they’d just shared would be the last one.

  Avery disappeared into the forest to practice her spells after they returned to the cottage, not looking at him. He embraced a relieved Cadha before heading to Daileas’ study to inform him of what happened during his meeting. But his thoughts remained on Avery for the rest of the day and into the evening, and he had to force himself not to stare at her during supper.

  After supper, he made his way to the room Avery was sharing with Cadha to bid his niece a goodnight. He found Cadha perched on the edge of her bed pallet, gazing down at her hands, a storm of conflict on her young features.

  “Cadha?” he asked, squatting down before her. “What is it, lass?”

  “I didnae think of them today. Mother and Father,” she whispered. Her eyes met his, filled with guilt. “And . . . when I went hunting with ye and Avery, I didnae feel sad. For the first time since they died . . . I felt happy. If I’m nae sad anymore, doesnae that mean I’ll forget them?”

  Sympathy clenched Bhaltair’s heart. Cadha had never before grappled with grief; it was foreign to her. Bhaltair had dealt with it twice—with his father’s death and then with Boyd’s. Grief was a difficult emotion even for him to handle. He could only imagine what young Cadha was going through.

  “Listen and listen tae me carefully, lass,” he murmured, reaching out to grip her hands. “Ye will never forget yer parents, nae ever. How did yer father’s laugh sound?”

  Cadha looked briefly puzzled before replying, “It was . . . loud. Booming. I could hear him from my chamber sometimes.”

  “And what was yer mother’s favorite bedtime story tae tell ye?”

  “The story of the forest sidhe.”

  “And yer father’s favorite pastime?”

  “He liked tae hunt. And tell stories,” she said, her eyes alight with nostalgia.

  He asked her several more questions about her parents, ones which she answered easily, becoming more and more relaxed as she did.

  “Do ye see?” he said. “’Tis all the little things—and how much ye loved them—that all come together. Ye’ll never forget them. Not even when ye’re old and gray.”

  Cadha nodded, her relief stark. She gave him a small smile before lying down on her pallet. He reached out to pull the blanket over her, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on her forehead before standing.

  He froze when he saw Avery standing by the doorway. To his surprise, he saw a sheen of tears in her eyes. He approached with a concerned frown.

  “Avery—"

  “I’m fine,” she said quickly, keeping her voice low as she dashed away her tears. “I’m just—I’m thinking of all she’s lost. I can’t imagine having to try and remember my parents at her age. She’s so tough. And Bhaltair, what you’ve done for her . . . " Her blue eyes collided with his, and a torrent of need flared to life in his belly. “She’s so lucky to have you. I see why she loves you so much.”

  “I love her more,” he said, his gaze straying to his now sleeping niece. “I’ll do anything for her.”

  Even stay away from ye tae focus on keeping her safe, though my very soul seems tae ache for ye, he thought, with a painful tightening of his gut.

  “Good night, Avery,” he whispered, forcing himself to move away from her, fighting his instincts to take her in his arms and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe.

  As he made his way to his guest room, he paused when he glimpsed Daileas dancing with Fenella in the main room. Daileas’ gaze was locked on his wife’s; it was as if they were in a world entirely of their own making.

  For a moment, just a moment, he imagined himself dancing with Avery, with Cadha in between them, smiling up at them both. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, forcing away the image and making his way to his room.

  * * *

  Bhaltair needed patience for the next fortnight; it would take Hamish time to gather more men, for his spies to obtain information on the aingidh, Clan Roideach’s movements, and Odhran’s loyalties. He praye
d the spies found nothing on Odhran; the thought of his cousin betraying him tore away at his insides.

  He, Avery, and Cadha fell into a routine of sorts. Bhaltair would accompany Daileas on hunts, chopping wood and hauling it into the cottage, and other household tasks that Daileas or one of his men usually handled, despite Daileas’ insistence that he was a guest and didn’t have to do such things. But Bhaltair insisted on earning his keep. His father had made him and Boyd handle such tasks when they were lads to teach them the value of hard work, despite their highborn status.

  Hamish’s messenger would arrive periodically with updates; more men were joining his cause, furious that the actions of Clan Roideach had forced their laird into exile. It was only a matter of time before they had enough men to launch an attack against Clan Roideach.

  Even with assisting Daileas, he still spent much of his time with Avery and Cadha. It was still hard to believe that Cadha had lived the life of a wealthy laird’s daughter with the ease she’d taken to life at the cottage. She would help Fenella with household tasks or sometimes join Daileas and Bhaltair on their hunts. She seemed to relish in doing things she’d never had to do as a wealthy heiress. Bhaltair realized with a surge of pride that his brother and sister-in-law had done a fine job in the brief time they’d had with Cadha, that his niece would grow into a fierce woman.

  When there weren’t tasks for them to attend do, Bhaltair would walk hand in hand with his niece through the forest as he told her stories about her father as a boy or stories of her mother. He would train her during her hunts of small game, something she was getting better at each day. He even joined in with her and Avery when they played their frequent games of chase.

  He told himself that he was spending time with Avery for Cadha’s sake, but he knew this wasn’t the truth. He relished any time he could spend with her. Beyond his desire for her, he hungered for knowledge about her. Whenever they walked together with Cadha, he found himself asking her as many questions as he could think of.

  “What is yer favorite time period?” he asked her one day as they walked through the forest, Cadha yards ahead of them as she picked wildflowers.

  Avery cocked her head to the side, considering.

  “I liked the 1920s. It was a period in America where there was constant fun and excess. But as strange as it may sound, I think I like my own time the most. That’s probably cheating given that’s the time I was born in.”

  She smiled, and he struggled to return it, though disappointment filled him. He’d foolishly hoped she would tell him that this time period was her favorite.

  “And what is it like? Yer time?” he asked, hoping his tone was even. He needed a stark reminder of this time period to which she would return; perhaps it would keep his need for her at bay.

  “It’s hard to describe,” Avery said after a brief pause. “It’s . . . loud. Fast. It takes traveling to the past to realize just how loud and fast everything is in my time. The population has exploded. It’s like humanity is in an endless race.”

  She paused, her expression shifting to one of forlornness.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “No matter what time period I travel to, there’s always something . . . missing. Something I can’t quite place. I always feel as if I’ve lost something and I haven’t yet found it. I think a deep part of me hopes that if I keep traveling to different time periods, I’ll find it.” She shook her head, giving him an embarrassed look. “That must sound crazy.”

  Her words didn’t sound mad at all to Bhaltair, a part of him had always felt the same. He’d enjoyed his solitude, his freedom, but lurking beneath the surface, there was always the sense that something was missing.

  But he chose not to tell her this, averting his gaze.

  “It doesnae sound mad. We should return,” he said gruffly.

  As they approached the cottage, Cadha rushed out to grab Avery’s hand, pulling her inside. He couldn’t help but smile as he watched a laughing Avery trail Cadha. He wasn’t the only one taken by Avery.

  “The witch shares yer desire.”

  Bhaltair turned, his eyes widening as Daileas approached. He’d been so focused on watching Avery that he hadn’t noticed Daileas standing there. At his words, Bhaltair stiffened, a denial springing to his lips.

  “There’s no need tae deny it,” Daileas said with a chuckle. “Ye cannae stop staring at the lass. I couldnae take my eyes off Fenella when I first met her.”

  “She’s bonnie, aye, but I’ll nae bed her. She’s only here tae help with the aingidh before returning tae her own time.”

  “Aye? Is that why ye take daily walks with her in the forest?”

  Bhaltair had no answer.

  “Bhaltair,” Daileas said, his voice softening. Bhaltair forced himself to meet Daileas’ eyes. “I ken ye have much tae handle. But ye need nae close yerself off tae caring about someone. Tae love.”

  With those words, Daileas left him to head inside.

  Chapter 12

  Avery directed an Offensive spell at a nearby tree, satisfaction filling her at the wave of power that roiled throughout her body. She was getting stronger at Offensive and Defensive spells, with the elements obeying her commands quicker.

  Still, she felt . . . overwhelmed. She knew nothing about the aingidh she was about to fight, as Bhaltair’s men hadn’t learned any more information about the mysterious dark witch. And it didn't help matters that Bhaltair’s very presence distracted her, though it was a glorious distraction. She enjoyed their walks in the forest more than she should, swapping stories with him about her time in the future while he told her of his time with Boyd when they were younger, and happier times with his family before tragedy struck. Warmth flooded her entire body at his closeness to her whenever they walked—hell, whenever her eyes landed on him. It was hard not to stare at such a beautiful man, to let her gaze linger on those sensual lips of his, lips that had claimed hers with such possessiveness. The memories of his kisses still lingered, causing a searing need for him to seize her entire body—

  "Ye're getting stronger."

  The words tore her from her thoughts. Avery whirled, a scream on her lips. To her astonishment, Lioslaith stood at the edge of the clearing.

  A flurry of emotions arose within her; surprise, anger, fear. It surprised her to realize that the fear came from the thought of Lioslaith taking her away, something she no longer wanted.

  Lioslaith stepped forward, giving her a calm smile.

  "Where have you been?" Avery demanded, trying to sound indignant and not fearful. "You told me you’d return in two days.”

  "I've been . . . away," Lioslaith said vaguely. “Do ye still wish tae leave?"

  That fear rose in her chest once more. Lioslaith was powerful. She could send Avery away whether or not she wanted to go. But before she could respond, Lioslaith offered a patient smile.

  "I ken ye donnae want tae leave."

  "You . . . knew I was going to stay, didn’t you?" Avery asked, even as stark relief coursed through her.

  “Aye. I told ye, Avery. Time wants ye here with Bhaltair."

  "So you left me on purpose?”

  "Aye," Lioslaith said unapologetically. "But even had I returned after a mere two days, ye wouldnae have returned tae Skye. Something pulls ye here. I ken ye feel it."

  She did. Avery thought of the draw she felt toward Bhaltair and Cadha, the sense of . . . belonging she now felt. Was that all because “time” wanted her to be here?

  “I kept tae my word and told yer family where ye are,” Lioslaith continued. “Yer parents have chosen tae remain in Skye with yer sister 'til ye return. If yer sister wasnae with child and didnae have such a protective husband, she would have come here herself. But I told them this was yer journey alone. She wanted me tae give ye a letter she wrote.”

  Lioslaith reached into the sleeve of her gown and took out a carefully folded piece of parchment. Avery took it, her heart swelling with love as she thought of her sister. Of course Lila
would want to help her. It was in her sweet, kindhearted nature to do so. She held the letter to her heart for several moments, finally looking back up at Lioslaith.

  "This . . . aingidh working with Clan Roideach. Do you know anything about him?"

  "I donnae. All I ken is that he's nae from this time." Lioslaith took a step back, giving her a serene nod. "Farewell, Avery.”

  "Wait," Avery protested, reaching out to grab Lioslaith’s arm, but in an instant the young witch was back on the other side of the clearing.

  Avery gritted her teeth with frustration. She really wished Lioslaith would stop doing that.

  “I could use your help with training. I'm getting stronger, but I'm still not strong enough."

  "I'm sorry, Avery. It was my task tae bring ye tae Bhaltair, nothing more. But I will tell ye this—ye're more capable than ye realize."

  And then she was gone, disappearing into thin air. Avery expelled an irritated sigh, tempted to transport herself to Lioslaith's cave, but she suspected the young witch wouldn't be there.

  Avery heard a rustling in the trees and turned as Bhaltair emerged, his brows knitted together in a fierce scowl, his hand on the hilt of his sword.

  "Are ye well? I heard voices.”

  “I’m fine. Lioslaith was just here," she assured him, a rush of delight flowing through her at his protectiveness.

  Bhaltair stiffened, his hand falling away from his sword. He averted his gaze, his jaw clenched.

  "Aye," he murmured. "Is she taking ye away, then?"

  "I gave you my word I wouldn't leave until Cadha was safe from this aingidh," Avery returned, frowning. "And I keep my word."

  Relief flickered across Bhaltair's features, relief she tried not to read too much into. He just wants you to protect his niece, nothing more, she chided herself.