A Saint at the Highland Court: A Friends to Lovers Highlander Romance (The Highland Ladies Book 6)

by Celeste Barclay

  Hardi grasped her beneath her bottom and lifted her off the ground. Blair squeaked as her hands rested on his shoulders now that they were at eye level. “Because I love ye to distraction, Blair Sutherland.” He squeezed her backside before kissing her soundly.

  “But in all seriousness, please be careful, Hardi,” Blair whispered as Hardi put her back on her feet.

  “I suspect ye shall be just like the stories I’ve heard aboot the women yer Sinclair cousins married. Tenacious protectors of their husbands.”

  “Aye, and dinna forget Mairghread. We’re vera much alike. When none of ye lads would teach me and Maude how to fight, Mairghread did.” Blair made a fist and playfully drove it into Hardi’s stomach, but with just enough force for him to understand she wasn’t kidding.

  “And I think I shall enjoy rewarding ma most loyal guard,” Hardi murmured against Blair’s neck. The heat from his breath made her nipples pucker. He kissed along her neck before nipping her earlobe.

  “If ye keep doing that, it’ll be the middle of the night before we leave,” Blair choked out around a soft moan.

  “I’m tempted to accompany ye back to Inverlochy, so I might sneak into yer chamber again. It’s only ma desire for keeping our meetings a secret that reminds me nae to be impetuous. I dinna want Artair or whoever is spying to ken that we meet.”

  “Then I will see ye in the morn,” Blair said. They kissed once more, keeping it brief lest they get carried away. Hardi waited to mount Uaill until after Blair was out of sight.

  Twenty-Nine

  Blair forced herself to act surprised when Hardi arrived the following morning just after the clan members finished breaking their fast. Artair glanced between Hardi and Blair, mollified that Blair hadn’t expected Hardi’s arrival. Lady Robena offered Hardi food despite the meal ending. He politely declined, explaining he’d already eaten. Hardi struggled to keep his eyes off Blair as he thought about what would satisfy a distinct hunger. From the tinge of pink in her cheeks, Hardi was certain Blair’s mind drifted in the same direction as hers.

  “Chieftain MacDonald, I ask for the use of yer solar this morning. I am overdue for ma next lesson.”

  “You and Lady Blair can’t be alone,” Artair huffed, then a slyness that set Hardi on edge slid into the man’s eyes.

  “That’s why Lady Blair’s maid shall accompany us,” Hardi explained. Hardi’s earnest expression made Artair’s smugness fizzle. Blair pushed away from the table, snagging an apple as she went. She tossed it into the air as she walked past Artair. It wasn’t long before Hardi, Blair, and Maeve were ensconced in the chieftain’s solar. Maeve discreetly took a seat in a chair across the chamber from the couple who sat at the far end of the table. Hardi pulled a stack of missives from his sporran. All were open despite being addressed to him. He was certain Faolán had justified reading them by arguing that Hardi’s return was overdue and they might be urgent. Blair scanned their contents, sorting them into piles. One pile made her lip curl in disgust.

  “What’s wrong with those?” Hardi asked when he noticed her expression.

  “They’re all marriage inquiries,” Blair grumbled.

  “I can answer those.” When Blair cast him a suspicious glance, he chuckled. “I believe I can write ‘nay thank ye’.”

  Blair pursed her lips and shot him an annoyed look before smiling and shaking her head. Hardi ignored Maeve, who studiously ignored them. He cupped Blair’s face and kissed her. She grasped his upper arms to steady her as she leaned forward. Hardi was ready to ease Blair onto his lap when he recalled that they weren’t alone, even if Maeve pretended to be invisible.

  “In fact, since those are the simplest to write, can we do them first?” Hardi asked. Blare nodded as Hardi pulled a sheaf of blank, folded vellum from his sporran. “I wasna kidding aboot writing nay thank ye, but I would appreciate yer help to ensure I write it correctly.”

  “Ye’ll have to write more than just that.”

  “How aboot ‘nay thank ye. I dinna want yer daughter because I have someone better’?” Hardi suggested with a grin.

  “Incorrigible,” Blair muttered. “How aboot ‘I must decline yer offer. I am already in negotiations for a betrothal’?”

  “Vera well. But I still like ma version better.”

  “I’m sure ye do. Do ye want me to write the missives or write out the wording and ye copy it in yer own hand?”

  Hardi sat back in his chair as he considered Blair’s question. He was unsure of what to choose. He opted for Blair’s advice instead. “What do ye think? Would it be better for ye to write it in yer clear penmanship or should I respond by ma own hand even if ma writing still isnae vera neat?”

  “Either would be acceptable. Many lairds have scribes, usually monks, so ye wouldnae be the only one to send missives written by someone else. But if ye’d like to try, then I think ye should. I’ll write it, and ye can practice beneath until ye feel more comfortable. Then ye can write yer official responses.”

  “That’ll take all day,” Hardi grumbled.

  “Then we’d best get started.” Blair pulled a fresh piece of parchment in front of her and dipped the quill into the ink before writing the two sentences. Just as they’d done in the scriptorium as Hardi learned to write, he took the quill from Blair and traced the words several times before attempting to write them below Blair’s original version. Hardi was pleased that he found it easier than he had in the past. It took them only an hour to respond to the pile of betrothal inquiries once they began.

  Blair pulled the next pile toward them. The marriage requests had made her miffed, but the next pile concerned her more. “Hardi, these are complaints from the surrounding clans that yer patrols are crossing yer borders and encroaching on other territories. None claim that aught has gone awry, but the lairds arenae happy. They date back to four moons ago. Yer uncle was still laird then. Do ye ken if he settled any of these, or have all these clans been stewing over being ignored?”

  “Which one’s which?” Hardi rubbed his forehead.

  “This one is the MacDonnells of Keppoch while this one is from the MacDonnells of Glengarry.” Blair held up a missive in each hand before putting them down and picking up two more. She held her left hand up first. “This one is from the Macleans, and this one is from the Hendersons. Hardi, if yer men are passing into Henderson territory, then it canna be an accident. Dinna they have to cross Loch Levin? Doesnae that put ye close to the Campbells?” Blair felt warm as her heart picked up pace. The Campbells were one of King Robert’s favored clans. If the Camerons were harassing the Campbells, Blair feared the worst for Hardi. Her connections would do nothing to spare him.

  “Sard,” Hardi swore under his breath. He didn’t understand much French, but he knew the important words for cursing. He ran his hands through his short hair, making it stand on end. It tempted Blair to reach out and smooth it, but she remembered how annoyed she was to see Artair pat Robena’s head. She didn’t think it was a wise choice. “I need to meet with ma senior guardsmen. Faolán is officially ma second, and Drostan is captain of the guard. It’s time they both retired, but until then, I need to speak with men I trust. Men I’ve fought beside, whose lives I have saved and who have saved mine. I need to placate these lairds without sounding like I’m making excuses for nae kenning. Uncle Farlane mentioned some disagreements between the MacDonnells and us over the exact location of our borders with both septs, but he never told me our patrols crossed the established borders. I have nay idea aboot the Hendersons. What’s the date to that?”

  Blair glanced back at the parchment. “A week after ye arrived at court.”

  “Faolán waited until I was too far to turn back or to hear of his meddling.” Hardi drummed his fingers on the table as he considered his responses. He glanced at Blair and knew she had her opinion of how he should respond, but he also knew she wouldn’t offer it unless asked. She would encourage him to reason through the situation on his own. Hardi looked at the wooden table before him as he co
ntinued to tap his fingers. It was as though the rhythmic tapping encouraged his brain to move faster. “I canna give away a heifer and calf to every clan we anger. I also canna concede land to either MacDonnell sept. That was the land King Robert gifted the clan after the Wars.”

  Hardi sighed as he continued to ruminate on how to resolve the complaints he knew were just. He wished the issues were reversed, and it was another laird who had to apologize to him. He considered what he would expect if it were his land upon which other clans trespassed.

  “I will grant the MacDonnells grazing privileges on the land near the disputed borders. Their cattle and sheep may eat in ma meadows, but they canna build structures of any kind. Nae even a shepherd’s hut.” Hardi glanced at Blair, who kept her face blank, but he knew her well enough to see the approval in her eyes. He continued his finger tapping as he considered the Hendersons and Campbells. As best he knew, none of his patrols crossed into Campbell territory, and it was essential he kept it that way. There would be no appeasing King Robert if they strayed that far. He imagined what he would want from the Hendersons if he’d been wronged.

  “The Hendersons are a sept of the MacDonalds,” Hardi mused. “I would cede the MacDonalds Inverlochy if it werenae in the center of ma land and so close to Tor. Mayhap, I should direct ma dealings to Laird MacDonald and let him pacify the Hendersons once I’ve made amends with him. Fortifying the wall around this heap would benefit me and the MacDonalds living here. Artair would be beholden to me nae only for having a castle to boast aboot, but he would have added security. I wouldnae have to worry aboot the castle being overrun should someone attack. The MacDonalds wouldnae have to pay for that part of the castle’s upkeep. But I will do it in exchange for the MacDonalds paying for improvements to the keep. The wall far exceeds a few men and horses trampling the Hendersons’ grass.” Hardi nodded but frowned. “I must give more thought to the Macleans, but they are the least likely to cause a fuss.”

  Hardi once again looked down at Blair, who nodded her head. She reached out her hand, palm up, and Hardi took it. His larger hand dwarfed hers, but he was always aware of his greater size and strength. Blair lifted his hand to her lips, kissing the back of it. “I’m so vera proud of ye, Hardi. Those are solutions I’m sure ma da would devise. I wish I could suggest ye wait until Lachlan arrives to ask him, but I dinna ken how much longer ye can put these off, and we dinna ken for sure Lach will come.”

  “I dinna need Lachlan’s approval if I have yers. Blair, ye are just as astute as yer brother and ye da. The only difference among the three of ye is yer da’s got more experience. I ken ye could have told me what to do, and whatever ye conceived would’ve been a wise path to take. But I appreciate ye believing in me and letting me work this out for maself.”

  “I kenned ye would. I thought of the pastureland, but I didna think of the Hendersons being part of the MacDonalds. Using the wall are a bargaining tool didna come to me.”

  “What would ye have done for the Hendersons?” Hardi asked.

  “I thought to offer the Hendersons unimpeded fishing rights to the eastern half of Loch Leven. That would keep yer access to Loch Linhe but let the Hendersons believe they had more than ye.”

  “That isnae a bad idea.”

  “Nay, but it forces ye to give something up; whereas, yer solution gains ye something. It may cost ye coin to fix the wall, but it adds to the security to one of yer keeps and really makes the MacDonalds indebted to ye. As yer allies, they will have to provide ye with aid if ye ask. And I believe that time will come soon with the Macphersons and Mackintoshes. Keeping a branch of them here is convenient and will make it impossible for Laird MacDonald to deny ye.”

  “I just need to be sure Artair isnae the duplicitous dung heap I suspect he is.”

  “Well, aye. That is rather important,” Blair grinned.

  “Ye really dinna like him, do ye?” Hardi tucked hair behind Blair’s ears. “I hope Lachlan comes and soon. I’m regretting ye staying here.”

  “I dinna care for him, but he hasnae done aught wrong. He’s an arse for sure, but I dinna feel unwelcome. I just think I annoy him.” Blair shrugged.

  “Ye dinna feel uncomfortable being here?” Hardi pressed.

  “Nay. He annoys me as much as I annoy him. But I dinna fear for ma safety, and I dinna think he realizes when he’s rude. I dinna think he believes he is.” Blair shrugged again. She arranged more sheets of parchment before them, and this time they agreed she would write the missives because they were longer and more complex. It took another half an hour before she was through and pleased with the wording. She set aside the semi-dried vellum and looked at Hardi.

  She kept her tone soft as she broached the next unavoidable topic. “Do ye want to deal with this last stack now? They’re condolences for losing yer uncle and cousins. Or we can do it another time.”

  Blair wished she hadn’t brought up Hardi’s loss, but he had already glanced at the stack several times. She placed her hand over the pile, as though covering them would keep Hardi from reading them. She knew most were too complicated for him to understand without her aid, but she wanted to hide the freshest cause of his pain. She hadn’t seen the raw anguish enter Hardi’s eyes in weeks, but she’d studiously avoided bringing up recent family events. His face took on a haunted look as he stared at the floor. She wished she could take away the pain and heal the wound she reopened.

  Blair glanced at Maeve, who continued to sew with her head bent over her work. She rose from her chair, nudging Hardi’s legs to face away from her maid. She eased onto his lap, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. Her other hand gently pressed his head against her chest. Slowly, Hardi’s arm around came around her waist, and she felt him shudder. She kissed the top of his head over and over as she stroked his arm and shoulder. He turned his face into her chest as his shoulders heaved. His sobs were silent, but Blair felt each one. She held him tighter, stroking back his hair as she kissed his forehead. They sat in silence even after Hardi’s tears subsided, and he wiped away the last of the moisture.

  “I love ye, Blair. I dinna want to wait to marry ye,” Hardi’s voice was hoarse as he whispered.

  “What are ye saying, Hardi? We canna post the banns until ye and Da sign the contracts.”

  “I dinna give a damn what’s in yer dowry. I’ll pay ma last penny for the bride price. And if ye da says nay, I will marry ye anyway. Someone else, anyone else, can be the fucking laird before I give ye up. I want to handfast, Blair.”

  Blair cupped Hardi’s face as she smiled at him. She pressed a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away. She wouldn’t let them get distracted. “I’ll handfast with ye this vera moment, but that doesnae change how things stand with yer clan. Are ye ready to add a wife to yer problems?”

  “Ye arenae a problem,” Hardi protested.

  “Ye may nae think so, but yer clan doesnae ken ye arenae going through with the Macquarie or Donald lasses. At the least Faolán and Drostan have read the other betrothal requests, and who kens what they’ve told the others. We dinna even ken if they’ve sent off responses that dinna match yers. Hardi, I bring the Sutherland name, and I dinna doubt for a moment that whether we wed or nae, ma da will back ye. But that doesnae solve the inner politics that are crumbling in yer clan. Introducing a wife nae one expects, who will suddenly take over the running of yer keep, willna lessen yer troubles.”

  “It’ll lessen Mordag’s,” Hardi muttered. At Blair’s narrowed eyes, Hardi realized he’d spoken aloud. “Mordag is ma housekeeper. She’s served as chatelaine since ma aunt died. She hates it. Complains she wasna trained to be chatelaine. She was the first one to say I needed to marry. She’ll welcome ye with open arms, a hot bath, and a feast.”

  Blair considered their options, and she could tell Hardi was doing the same. She glanced back at the unanswered missives. “Mo chridhe, I’ll tell ye who’s written to ye. If there are any ye want to answer personally, I’ll take dictation. Otherwise, let me handle these. And we can lea
ve them until later. I think fresh air would do us both some good after being in here for hours.”

  “I agree. Ma head aches, and I could do with a change of scenery,” Hardi nodded. He wanted to ask Blair whether she wanted the handfast she agreed to, but he decided not to push the issue.

  “I’d like to go to the orchard,” Blair explained as she gathered the missives Hardi brought while he sealed the last ones. “We will need ma guards and mayhap Bran.”

  Hardi glanced at her, confused. He didn’t think they needed guards or chaperones while outside and within the bailey walls.

  “As witnesses. We should have at least one person from each of our clans witness our handfast. Then nay one can dispute it took place,” Blair explained.

  Hardi dropped the stack of missives he’d collected and pulled Blair in for a searing kiss. Hardi didn’t care that Maeve gasped more than once. He only cared about the woman clinging to him, returning his kiss. When they separated, both were beaming until reality crashed down on Hardi’s shoulders.

  “Blair, I canna offer ye a proper wedding night. I canna guarantee I can slip into yer chamber, and I dinna ken if we can slip off somewhere. I definitely dinna want yer first time to be in a storeroom or against a tree.”

  “I rather like what we get up to against trees,” Blair waggled her eyebrows. Hardi pulled her back against him as he leaned toward her ear.

  “I’m aboot to truly scandalize yer maid by tossing up yer skirts and laying ye back on this table,” Hardi growled against her neck before nipping at the muscle on the top of her shoulder.

  “Hardi, I dinna care where our first time is. A storeroom, against a tree, on a table, under a table, in the stable’s hayloft. I just want our first time.”

  Hardi shook his head. “Nay. I will do whatever I must to come to yer chamber, but it willna be to sleep.” Hardi winked and grinned. “Ye’ll just have to be patient. It willna be straight from the kirk to our chamber, and it willna be straight from the orchard to the hayloft.” Hardi kissed Blair again. “I shall remember that last one. I rather like the idea.”