by Jenna Stone
“I’ve told you once already that I am not in need of your protection,” I said as I turned and stomped up the stairs.
“I don’t think yer aware of just what ye need, woman,” he murmured between gritted teeth. “The keep is not always a safe place for a lassie to be unescorted at night, especially a lass who has been using her womanly wiles on sae many men while dancing,” he scowled as he followed me up the stairs.
“What are you talking about, Devon McClain? I most certainly was not using any such thing! I think that the only man that I should be worried about is you, you insolent bastard! It’s a wonder that any man would dance with me when you were scowling in my direction all night!”
“I’ll show ye what a lass like you needs!” he said fiercely, as he trapped me in his embrace and drew me in for a lengthy, thorough kiss.
When his lips came down hungrily on mine, my resolve evaporated. I knew that I should be angry, should be resisting his advance, but I opened my mouth and welcomed his kiss. My body melted against his chest and my hands raked over his back and down to his taught waist. I kissed him back, tongue dueling with his and hated myself for allowing myself to respond so wantonly to this brute.
Devon broke the kiss, and continued, “What you need, lass, is to be kissed fiercely, thoroughly and often by a man whose fire matches yer own.”
My knees felt weak from our unexpected kiss and from the implications of Devon’s words.
He wants me. I want him back.
I regained my composure and removed my hands from his back, still taken aback by how my body responded to this man while my mind screamed for it to stop.
“If I could reach my dirk right now, I would stab you in the liver,” I spat, angry with myself for being so wanton.
“Nae, ye wouldna,” he purred, caressing my hair which had become disheveled during the passionate kiss.
“And how do you know what I would or would not do?” I demanded, straightening my spine and pushing his hand away.
“Because ye liked it as much as I did,” he whispered, taunting me. “Yer body responds tae me in a way that ye canna control, nae matter how hard ye fight it.”
He was right. He saw through me like a pane of glass. I let my forehead fall to Devon’s chest for a split second, accepting defeat and drinking in how good it felt to touch him. I reached up and kissed him on the neck, reveling in his masculine scent. “Good night, Devon McClain,” I whispered as I slid from his embrace and slipped into my chamber.
The clunk of the deadbold being slammed into place made Devon laugh. She had admitted her attraction to him, a small victory. “Good night, lass,” he said and walked down the stairs, cock painful and pulsing from his uncanny response to her. Small victories, he thought to himself as he tried to ignore what was going on under his kilt. She had admitted her attraction to him, and it was a small victory that he would accept.
Chapter Seven
Every move that I made was watched. Around every corner was another guard or a housemaid, maintaining the rouse of a menial task around the castle. Windows were cleaned, stairwells were swept, torches were lit, but all the while, I felt their eyes upon me. Constantly watching, evaluating me, eyes boring holes in the back of my head. I was an outsider in more ways than they could ever understand and I got the feeling that outsiders were not trusted. I knew that Collin didn’t trust me, and I assumed that the reason for my constant supervision was that he considered me to be a flight risk.
The gray skies and nearly constant drizzle of rain were starting to get to me, limiting my ability to work in the garden or walk the grounds of the keep. I needed something to keep myself busy with, something to pass the time. It was the quiet moments that were the worst for me. My mind was drawn as if it were a magnet, drawn back to my fear that my Father would find me and drag me back to my arranged marriage. This fear was compounded because I knew that the safety I enjoyed within the McClain keep was only temporary. It was only a matter of time until I would be discovered as an imposter, my rouse as Katherine Berkshire was more dangerous with each passing day.
It was hard to suppress the constant stream of thoughts that swirled through my mind as I tried to decide how to preserve my freedom. I knew that escape from the McClain keep would be necessary, but every time an opportunity arose, my escape was thwarted from a guard or a maid that had been placed to watch me.
I also knew that my father would not have just assumed that I had died when I jumped overboard and into the icy sea. He would have wanted to see my body as proof, not to help him grieve the loss of his daughter, but to ensure that his chance to ally with the McGregors was really gone. I knew that I was only a pawn in my father’s greedy scheme, and not for a second did I believe that he cared about me. He only cared that I would bring him a blood tie to the McGregors, which would lead to the fattening of his purse due to the profitable trade routes that they guarded.
When my problems weren’t controlling my thoughts, Devon was. As much as I had tried, I could not deny my feelings for Devon. I was tormented by the memories of his kiss last night outside of my chamber. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach each time I remembered how his lips felt over mine, how his body felt pressed against my own. I yearned for the safety that I knew that Devon could give me, but at the same time, every fiber in my being screamed at me to run, to escape. In the past couple of days, my mantra of escape had been gradually replacing itself with one of tentative acceptance. Maybe Devon was my best chance to protect myself from my father. Maybe he could help me.
I took a deep breath, holding it in my lungs before slowly letting it out. With the identity that I had unintentionally taken on, I had been saved from marriage to the Laird of Clan McClain due to his untimely death, but I wondered how long I would be safe. I had overheard discussion of Kate Berkshire’s sizeable dowry, and I knew that Clan McClain was in need of finances. How long would it be before I was married to someone else so that the dowry could be collected?
I needed my full wits about me to play this game. I would not be a willing pawn in Collin’s schemes to finance his petty wars and cattle raids. I had escaped my father’s intention of selling me as a bride to McGregor to bring an alliance between our families, and I refused to fall into the same situation with Collin and his lust for money.
If I was not able to find a way to escape, I could at least resolve to determine my own destiny in this strange new place. I scanned my meager list of acquaintances, looking for allies. I immediately knew that Leti was my best bet,and that her relationship with the Laird, her brother, might help. I needed to stay close to Leti, kindle our friendship and use it to my advantage.
With my new mindset making me feel a little more in control, I decided to implement this plan immediately. I walked a little taller from my chamber down the long hallway that lead to the great room, hoping to find Leti. After Brennan’s return to the keep, Leti rarely left his side and was totally engrossed in nursing her betrothed back to health. I missed her company, missed having someone to share my day with. Most of the women in the castle still kept me at arms length, wary of my uncertain position with the Laird, refusing to talk to me unless it was absolutely unavoidable. My conversations with Leti had been so natural, so easy and full of laughter.
Now, I realized just how important my friendship with Leti might be in postponing an unwanted marriage. I needed her not only as a friend, but also as an ally against Collin.
I found them lounging on one of the settees next to the fire, holding hands and totally wrapped up in each other. Brennan was clearly on the road to recovery, his arm draped casually around Leti’s shoulder as he held her close in the firelight. I watched as Brennan nuzzled Leti’s neck and whispered something in her ear that caused her to let loose a familiar giggle. I felt like an intruder in their private bubble of happiness.
I turned heel and decided that tonight would not be the night to initialize my plan. Leti was busy and a true friend would not interrupt what she was currently occupied with ne
xt to the fire. I couldn’t begrudge her the joy that she found in Brennan’s return to health.
I reluctantly decided that maybe I could find solace in a book from Collin’s library. I grasped the wooden banister at the edge of the large stone staircase that lead to the second level of the castle, thankful that after a week, I had finally learned to navigate the hallways and levels of the massive castle without getting lost. Or, at least without getting lost very often.
I took a left at the top of the stairs and headed down the narrow passage that led to Collin’s private library. He was often found here during the day, overlooking figures and managing all aspects of the lairdship from his enormous oak desk. He had once offered me a book to read from his library, an offer that I had declined at the time, not realizing that the weather was about to take a turn towards rain.
“Ye fucking bastard!” Devon yelled, the sound of his fist striking something solid accompanied his exclamation. I recognized his voice immediately, although I had never heard it booming with such anger. I stopped in my tracks.
“Who’s the bastard here, Devon? I ken that bitch of a mother of yours was already pregnant with ye when she wed my Father. That swiving bitch entrapped him and ye ken it!”
“He loved her and yer jealous of what they had together. I swear I’ll kill ye if ye bring up my mother again.” His voice was seething with rage. “I’ll not do it, Collin. Ye canna force me tae marry her!”
My hand steadied my body against the cold stone wall. I was committed now. I feared moving back into the hallway because they might hear me, knowing that I was eavesdropping on a very personal conversation. I was frozen in place.
They’re talking about me!
I had anticipated that Collin would try to marry me off as soon as possible, but this was ridiculous. His father was barely cold in the grave and already he was intent on marrying me off so that he could claim Katherine Berkshire’s dowry.
“No, I canna force ye to it. However, I do have an alternate plan in case ye won’t cooperate,” Collin threatened. There was an underlying tone of challenge in his voice. “I’ve received a letter from Willis Cameron expressing his desire tae claim the lass. He will pay for her hand, but not as much as her dowry would add to our coffers. I would gladly hand her over to Cameron, pain in the arse that she is, if it were not for the dowry her father promised upon the confirmation of her nuptials.”
“Have ye no shame?” Devon’s voice was seething with anger. “Wedding her tae the Cameron is a death sentence. Ye ken what he did with his last wife when he tired of her,” Devon warned, recalling the “accident” that befell Cameron’s first wife when she fell out of the warlord’s favor. “Collin, ye ken that Cameron is a wicked man. Think of Kate.” Devon said, the tone of his voice more controlled now, trying to reason with his brother.
“I’ve no responsibility towards her other than tae secure her a marriage after Da’s passing. I have nae care for her feelings or best interest. We need the money from her dowry. I’d prefer that ye marry the lass, as that would be the most profitable outcome for the Clan, but if ye refuse, I’ll send her packing to the Camerons immediately.”
A feeling of intense dread filled the pit of my stomach and I felt as though I might be sick. I fought every urge in my body that told me to run, to escape this fate. My mind forced my feet to be anchored to the floor and I fought against the bile that was rising in my throat.
“Ye ken that the Camerons have a price on my head, brother. If ye force me tae marry the lass that Cameron wants for his own, that price will be tenfold. They will hunt me,” Devon said matter-of-factly.
“I’ve made my decision. Ye shall marry Miss Berkshire, or she goes to the Cameron. Protecting ye from the Camerons is no my concern.”
“Ye ken full well that I can protect myself,” Devon raged. “We are on the verge of war with the Camerons already and ye choose tae taunt their Laird by marrying the woman that he desires to his worst enemy. I see through yer plan, brother. If Cameron has me killed, yer life would be sae much easier.”
“True,” Collin sighed. “He might even take the wench off my hands when ye are killed, that is if he doesn’t mind having yer seconds.”
“I canna be tied down, worrit about Kate, when I should be out leading our men. This is not what is best for the Clan, and ye ken it, ye bastard!” Devon’s fist thundered as it struck something in the room, possibly the wall or the desk.
“She’s not at all bad tae look at, in fact, I wouldn’t mind having her warm my bed. Ye can think of this as a favor, brother.” I could imagine Collin’s vindictive smile as he taunted Devon. “Let me ken your answer by morning. If I doona hear from ye, I’ll make preparations to transfer the lass tae the Camerons tomorrow afternoon.”
“Fuck you,” Devon said harshly.
Numbly, I strode forward into the library, knowing that Devon was about to leave the room. I would be caught if I tried to flee down the hallway. Hearing Devon’s clear aversion to marrying me had quite surprisingly hurt, his rejection stung even though I didn’t want to marry either. Given the choice between him and this Cameron fellow, I was quite sure that Devon was my best option.
As I pushed though the door, both men turned, faces flushed and jaws clenched with the anger of their confrontation. I had caught them off guard.
“Kate!” Devon exclaimed, green eyes glancing nervously towards his brother.
I couldn’t look at him, so I addressed Collin cordially. “I was hoping to borrow that book now that the weather has turned,” I smiled shakily to cover just how uncomfortable I was.
Collin rose from behind his desk and walked briskly to the shelf across the room, deftly pulling out the volume that he had offered me earlier. He handed it to me and I reached my hand out swiftly, afraid that I was shaking.
“Thanks.”
“How much of that did ye overhear, lass?” he asked directly.
“All of it,” I responded, and turned on my heel as I straightened my spine and walked from the room, fighting back tears that I wasn’t sure why I had.
***
I was trying my hardest not to panic about my current circumstances. My rouse of normalcy consisted of a rather large glass of red wine, my second this evening, and Collin’s book, a reminder of what had transpired earlier in the library. I feared that this situation was my penance for assuming Katherine Berkshire’s identity. I would now be used as Collin wished to make money for the Clan. I was angry at the situation but refused to be a victim. I would find a way out of this mess. Should I escape? Where would I go? Should I try to talk Devon into marrying me in order to save myself from a far worse fate? The thought of being Devon’s wife sent my blood racing.
I couldn’t focus on the contents of the book and found that alcohol coupled with a boring read could not distract me from thinking the prospect of my impending forced marriage. All of this on top of the fact that I was living under the assumed identity of a woman I knew to be dead weighed heavily on my conscience.
What would Collin do when he found out that I was a fraud? Could I keep up this rouse and allow Katherine’s dowry to be collected?
I took another gulp of wine, knowing that I would pay for my overindulgence tomorrow with one hell of a headache, but also, not letting this knowledge stop me.
The idea of marrying Devon terrified me! Devon was certainly not unappealing. In fact he was quite the opposite. His quick wit and easy demeanor coupled with his rakish long hair and muscular physique were alluring. There was a connection between us and I could not deny that the kisses that we shared had been earth-shaking. The way my body responded to his touch was unlike anything that I had ever experienced.
If I became Devon’s wife, it would force me to stay permanently at McClain castle. Staying here would increase the risk that my father’s men might find me. Marrying Devon would eventually expose that I was not Katherine Berkshire. I could not keep this fraud up indefinitely. Devon would offer me a temporary sense of security and belonging,
but I loathed the idea of tying him up in my web of lies. Greedily, I wanted him, but my conscience knew that I should let him go.
I gave up on reading and closed the book, resting its leather weight next to me on the settee. I took another sip of wine, noticing that my glass was quickly becoming more empty than full, savoring its fruity warmth in my mouth before swallowing it down. I leaned by head back, closed my eyes and relaxed against the high back of the settee, tired from thinking so much about a situation that I had so little control over. Maybe I could work out a plan with Devon. After walking in on his heated conversation with Collin, it was clear that he also did not wish to be wed. Maybe he would help me to escape to avoid this unwanted marriage.
“Aghemm,” I startled, and turned at the sound of a throat being cleared behind me.
I raked a hand through my tousled hair and peered over the back of the settee. My eyes met Devon’s and we both quickly glanced away, sensing immediately the precarious balance to our situation. He was carrying a bottle of wine and two of Collin’s crystal goblets, which he sat on the small table next to me.
“May I join ye, lass,” he said cautiously, searching my face for an answer. There was awkwardness between us that had never been there before and I knew that he felt this too by the way that his eyes nervously scanned the alcove as he awaited my answer.
“Of course,” I responded tersely, trying not to notice the way that the presence of this beautiful man affected me.
Oh, Devon. I want you so much. But now I know that you don’t want me.
My heart sank.
“I came prepared, but I see that you started without me,” he chuckled as he surveyed my nearly empty glass, uncorked the wine and filled his own with ruby liquid. He took a deep drag of the wine, savoring it in his mouth for a few seconds before swallowing.
“Well, lass, this is quite uncomfortable, is it no?” he said, acknowledging the strangeness of our situation. He raised the bottle of wine in invitation and I handed him my glass to refill.