A Rake at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Four

by Barclay, Celeste

  Cairstine stood near the door to the barracks, hiding in the shadows until Bram walked through the door on his way to the battlements.

  “Bram,” Cairstine hissed. The man swung around, eyes narrowed and immediately suspicious. When he recognized Cairstine, his hand moved away from the dirk sheathed to his belt. He glanced around before stepping into the shadows with her. If discovered, it would destroy them, and Bram risked serious consequences. He may have been her guard since she was a child, but she was now an adult woman meeting a man in seclusion.

  “Ma lady, ye ken ye shouldnae be out here at this time of night,” Bram whispered.

  “I know, but I need your help. You know Father hasn’t relented on his search for a husband for me. Tonight, he suggested Laird Gordon. You must understand why I can’t do that.”

  “Laird Gordon would be the best choice for ye. Lass, he would understand and never mistreat ye,” Bram reassured. Despite her position in the laird’s family, he’d called her “lass” since the very beginning, and she’d never outgrown it. It was often the only constant in a maelstrom of change.

  “But he’s Eoin’s father. I can’t,” Cairstine pleaded.

  “Ye may have little other choice. Ye would do well to accept Laird Gordon and count yerself lucky.”

  “Nay. I cannot go to Huntly and see Eoin everyday only to bed his father every night.”

  “The laird wouldnae expect that of ye if ye told him what happened.”

  “Mayhap not, but I still can’t be there with Eoin and be another mon’s wife.”

  “Do you love him?”

  Cairstine nodded. She’d known while they traveled together that her feelings were more than mere infatuation or desire. The days apart from him had been agony, missing him constantly. No matter what possibility she imagined, her mind always railed against any outcome that didn’t include Eoin.

  “I think I do. But he deserves a wife who can give him the family he desires. He deserves a wife who won’t force him into celibacy or into another woman’s arms. I know it’s selfish, but I couldn’t bear knowing that if I couldn’t couple with him, he would with someone else.”

  “If ye canna have him, then nay one else should,” Bram articulated her exact feeling. She nodded as tears flooded down her cheeks.

  “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I get past this? Eoin swore I wasn’t broken, but I am.”

  “There’s naught wrong with ye, lass. But I think ye underestimate what the love of a good mon would do for ye. I saw how Eoin looked at ye. He feels more for ye than just high regard. The mon fell in love with ye too.”

  “That makes it even worse. If he loves me, and I deny him, he’ll grow resentful. It’ll be even more painful.”

  “Or ye might find ye can move on, that he might be the one to mend the wounds we canna see but ken are there.” Bram cleared his throat. “Lass, ye shared some intimacies with him, and ye didna run him through or run screaming into the hills.”

  “I did, but he never pushed for more than what he knew I could manage. He knew my limits and accepted them. We just want different things in life. But he swore that he would come if I ever asked for his help. I asked him once before to pretend to be my betrothed long enough for Fenny to marry. He objected, fearing no woman would marry him if they believed he left me at the kirk steps or if I found something so unsavory that I wouldn’t marry him.”

  Bram rubbed the back of his neck, recalling Eoin’s confession that he would marry her if only they shared the same dreams for the future. He suspected Eoin was the only man who could ever work past the wall Cairstine had built around her heart.

  “What do ye need me to do, ma lady?” Bram asked the inevitable.

  Cairstine held up her missive. “Father intends to write to Laird Gordon within the sennight. I need this letter to get to Eoin before that. Bram, you’re the only one I trust.”

  “And how am I to explain ma disappearance for two days?”

  “I don’t want you to have to lie for me, but no one can know the truth.” Cairstine felt hope slipping away.

  “Did ye ken ma mother’s people are Grants? Mayhap she would like me to deliver her own message to ma aunts and uncles.”

  “I don't know that I ever knew that, but it would be a reasonable explanation.”

  “I don’t suppose this can wait till morn?”

  Cairstine bit her lip as she looked toward the lowered portcullis. She knew they would raise it for Bram, but she feared risking his life, and that of his horse, by sending them out in the dark.

  “It can,” Cairstine attempted to sound reassuring, but Bram’s sigh meant he knew she wasn’t convinced of her own words.

  “Ye fear yer father will send that message sooner rather than later, and ye’d prefer I nae ride into the Grant keep with a companion.” Cairstine nodded and handed over the missive when Bram held out his hand. “Ma lady, I think this is a misguided idea, but I trust Eoin to protect ye any way he can. That’s the only reason I dare defy yer father. Ma loyalty will always be to the laird and the clan first, but I’ve kenned ye yer entire life, and this is the first time ye have ever asked for something solely for yerself. Ye’ve been an obedient daughter, and ye’ve borne a heavy weight to spare yer family. I dinna blame ye for yer fear or yer need to protect yerself now when ye werenae able to do it back then.”

  “Thank you, Bram.” Cairstine glanced around before embracing the older guardsman. “I know you knew I wished as a wean that you were my da. I still do.” Cairstine pulled away before slipping out of the shadows and dashing back across the bailey.

  Bram waited until he saw Cairstine enter the keep through the kitchen, then he waited what he figured was ten minutes before he headed to the stables and retrieved his horse. He tucked the folded parchment in his sporran and ordered the guards to open the gates for him. He ducked and rode out of the half-opened portcullis. He spurred his horse into a gallop, thankful that the road leading away from Freuchie was well worn. He would make good time before the terrain turned rough.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “Rider approaches, Laird,” a guard on the battlements called down as Ewan, Allyson, Andrew, and Eoin stood in the bailey discussing needed improvements during summer to prepare the crofts and outbuildings for winter.

  “Can you see who it is?” Andrew called back.

  “A Grant is all I can tell, Laird,” came the answer.

  Eoin spun around and asked, “Only one? Mon or woman?”

  “Only a mon.”

  Eoin didn’t wait to hear what his family had to say or if they followed him to meet the rider. His heart dropped when he recognized Bram approaching the gate. He ran to meet the guard as he passed through the gate.

  “Is she well?” Eoin demanded before Bram reined in.

  “Aye, but she bade me deliver a missive to ye,” Bram whispered as he dismounted. He slipped his hand into his sporran as Eoin shifted to block anyone’s view as Bram handed him the folded parchment and dropped it into his own sporran. “It’s urgent, Eoin. I’m certain ma lady explains all in her letter, but ye would do well to read it sharpish.”

  “Bram,” Andrew greeted the guard and stuck out his arm, clasping Bram’s forearm in a warrior’s handshake. “What brings you to Huntly? Is all well at Freuchie?”

  “All is well. I came to visit ma aunts and uncles. It has been some time, and ma mother would appreciate any news.” Bram kept his eyes on Andrew, unwilling to make the man suspicious by glancing at Eoin.

  “They are well, and certain to appreciate your arrival. Be sure to join us in the Great Hall for at least one evening meal before you depart.”

  “Thank ye for the offer, Laird. But this is but a brief visit. One night only.” Bram’s tone remained casual, and Eoin was grateful that the guard made no mention of Cairstine or him.

  “I suspect my son shall also appreciate any news you have to share.” Andrew smiled at Eoin before leading Ewan and Allyson to where they’d been speaking before Bram’s arrival.r />
  “We can go to my father’s solar,” Eoin offered. He had a sneaking suspicion what Cairstine’s letter would contain, and he didn’t want an audience. He wasn’t sure what his reaction would be, regardless of how prepared he felt now. The men made their way to the laird’s solar, where Eoin yanked out the parchment and ripped the wax seal. He scanned the contents before reading slowly from the beginning. The blood seemed to drain from his head because suddenly it felt as though it floated somewhere near the ceiling. He’d expected her request for help, but it blindsided him to learn that Edward would soon ask his own father to consider Cairstine.

  Eoin hadn’t confided all to his father, refusing to betray Cairstine’s privacy, but he’d alluded to the reason Cairstine wished to retire to a nunnery. Eoin knew his father would accept the offer, understanding why Cairstine shied away from all other men. He might marry Cairstine, but Eoin doubted his father would see her as anything more than another daughter, just as he did Allyson. But the mere possibility that Cairstine might fall in love with his father made Eoin want to pound his fist through the wall. Cairstine was right. They couldn’t live under the same roof if Cairstine married Andrew. Eoin was certain his heart broke a little more each day that he was away from Cairstine, but it would be torture to be near her and unable to do anything more than treat her as his stepmother.

  Eoin turned toward Bram, but a knock at the door prevented him from speaking. Ewan opened the door, concern etched on his face. Eoin sucked in a breath as he held the sheath of vellum out to his brother. Ewan’s face morphed from confusion to shock to uncertainty.

  “What will you do?” Ewan asked.

  “I don’t know. I promised I would come if she asked.”

  “Regardless of whether you ride out, what are you going to do aboot the very real possibility that she’ll marry Father?”

  “I don’t know aboot that either.” Eoin had shared more of what passed between him and Cairstine with his twin than with his father, telling him everything short of speaking aloud the details of what happened to Cairstine in the woods. “I have to go. I want to go, but I don’t know that I can do what she’s asking.”

  “If only her reputation were for her piety rather than her sharp tongue,” Ewan suggested. “Then insisting she has a calling to take the veil would be a reasonable explanation for calling off the marriage. But no one will believe that.”

  “Mayhap not, but I saw her at Dundee. She was more peaceful than I’ve seen her at court. The only other time she seemed to relax was when we rested and she could walk through the flowers or dip her toes in the water.” Eoin sighed and scrubbed his face with his hands. “Father would make her a good husband. He would respect her and treat her kindly. He could give her the life she deserves.”

  “But he doesn’t love her. You do,” Ewan pointed out what all three men standing in the solar knew. “Eo, is the life with a woman you may never love worth it for siring your own children? Or would life with a woman you love, with a woman you could grow old with, be more important? I think you know my answers if you asked me.”

  Eoin nodded, but he wasn’t sure that he could give Ewan the answers his brother expected. He’d been overjoyed to learn that Allyson was carrying, but it had only strengthened his need for his own family. He’d tried reasoning with himself that any woman he married might not bear him children. But he hadn’t moved past the fact that there was a greater chance with someone else than Cairstine breaking her resolve never to be intimate.

  “Eoin,” Bram stepped forward. “The lass will do something more desperate if ye dinna play the part. I fear she’ll run away before accepting a betrothal to anyone but ye.”

  Eoin’s eyes met Ewan’s, both remembering the nightmare they’d endured when Allyson ran away from a betrothal to Ewan. She’d almost been tortured and killed before the twins and her father could rescue her. She’d been forced to return to her family, where Eoin and Ewan witnessed her father’s indifference and her mother’s and siblings’ cruelty toward her. What Allyson hadn’t known for much of that time was that she and Ewan were already betrothed, the documents having been signed before she even ran from Stirling Castle. His brother and sister-by-marriage had time to get to know one another and fall deeply in love while they were at Redheugh. In the end, they both wanted the same future.

  “Eoin, with time any rumors aboot how things end will drift away. You’ll marry and have the family you wish for,” Ewan patted Eoin’s shoulder.

  “You think I should do it? Pretend to be her betrothed?” Eoin asked.

  “I do. You’re going there, anyway. What will people think if you show up but don’t ask for her hand? That will do more damage than breaking off a betrothal.”

  “But you know a betrothal is as good as a marriage.”

  “Only if you consummate it,” Ewan pointed out. Eoin nodded. His clan would attend the Highland Gathering, and if he didn’t accept the ruse, it would force him to stand beside his father as the older man accepted a betrothal to the woman he loved.

  “I need to speak to Father,” Eoin announced.

  “Aye. Bram, why don’t you and I find something to eat and drink?” Ewan suggested. “You’re freshly arrived after a night and day of riding, and I’m always hungry. Eoin, I’ll ask Father to come here.”

  Eoin nodded as he walked toward the arrow slit where bright sunlight illuminated the dust in the air. He closed his eyes as the sound of Cairstine’s laughter played through his mind before it turned into the soft moans she’d made as he brought her to climax. He pictured her face as she laughed at him and held a buttercup beneath his chin. He recalled how her lips plumped from their kisses and the bliss on her face as she came undone in his arms.

  “Ewan says you’d like to see me,” Andrew said as he walked into the solar. Eoin glanced over his shoulder and nodded before turning back to the window. “Whatever Bram’s told you troubles you greatly.”

  “It does. As you can imagine, it’s aboot Cairstine.” Eoin turned to look at his father, bile rising in his throat. “Her father wants you to marry her. He’s sending a missive with his request before the sennight is out.”

  Andrew offered his son a fatherly smile as he joined him at the arrow slit. “If she weren’t the woman you’re in love with, I would marry her.”

  Eoin’s eyes widened as he turned his head toward Andrew. He’d attempted to hide his feelings for Cairstine and the moroseness that grew each day that they were apart. He realized he’d failed.

  “You could offer her the life she needs,” Eoin said flatly.

  “And you could offer her the life she deserves.” Andrew countered. He watched his son for a long moment. “She would understand if the arrangement suited you both.”

  “I will not take a mistress. Absolutely not.” Eoin growled. “I won’t betray my vows, I won’t do it just so I can keep bedding women, and I certainly won’t do it to sire a passel of bastards. And whether or not Cairstine agreed to it, it would hurt her.”

  “It was just a suggestion,” Andrew said placatingly.

  “Da, I can’t have a marriage like you and Mother. I can’t live with a woman who can’t return at least a portion of my feelings, and I can’t search outside my marriage for what I’m missing.”

  “They say God heals all wounds. Perhaps in time, she will come around.”

  “I’ll never pressure her, Da.”

  “I didn’t say you should. But I think there is more than just desire between you. Love has a powerful way of changing people. Look at your brother!” Andrew chuckled, and Eoin couldn’t help returning the smile.

  “I’ve thought aboot that, but Ewan and Allyson want the same thing. Cairstine and I don’t.”

  “What will you do?”

  “She asked me before we left Dundee if I would pose as her betrothed long enough for her sister to wed. I refused, but she’s asked again. I feel she’ll do what Allyson did if her father forces a betrothal. She’ll end up fleeing into the wilds of the Highlands. Villages a
re further apart than in the Lowlands. There’s even more harm that can come to her than what Allyson faced until Chillingham.”

  “Are you considering it? How would it end?”

  “She says that once Fenella weds, she’ll call it off and claim she can’t ignore her calling to join the church.”

  “There is an end in sight. Do you fear what people will say if either of you break the betrothal?” Andrew asked, and Eoin nodded. “Betrothals are made and broken all the time, even after people sign the contracts. I can claim that I didn’t see the need to secure our alliance with the Grants with a marriage. We already have close ties. People would believe that.”

  “So you believe I should go through with it? I should lie to her family? Wouldn’t that ruin things with the Grants?”

  “Let me worry aboot that. Do you see any other solution that keeps her safe besides pretending to be betrothed or me marrying the lass?” Andrew gave Eoin a pointed look, and his son shook his head. “Make no false statements aboot your feelings for her and don’t make promises you must break.”

  Eoin considered what his father said. He knew he’d already decided to help Cairstine, but the reassurance from both Ewan and his father helped him reconcile his choice.

  “I leave in the morn. Cairstine hopes her sister can wed before the gathering because her father intends to announce Cairstine’s betrothal there. If Fenella marries before then, Cairstine has a better chance of evading marriage.”

  “Have Ewan ride with you.”

  “Nay, Da. I won’t ask him to leave Allyson. They haven’t been wed long, but she’s already expecting. He’s exchanged watches with me just so he doesn’t have to leave her in their chamber at night. He won’t want to leave the keep, and I don’t blame him. He’s never had a pregnant wife before. I won’t do that to either of them. I’ll ride with Bram.”

  “Take two guards with you,” Andrew decided. “Arrive as the son of a laird should; show you’re there to make a formal request.”