His Highland Pledge (The Clan Sinclair Book 4)

by Celeste Barclay

  Chapter Five

  Magnus inched along the ledge, leaving Deirdre’s window just as he heard her parents walk to the door. Even from outside, he could hear the door slam. He arrived at the first window and used his fingers to search for a latch of any type. Instead, he felt the lip was slightly apart and he could pull the window open. He thanked God and all the saints he could name as he slid into the chamber, both because the window was unlocked and because the chamber was empty. He looked around the room and confirmed it was one that belonged to the ladies-in-waiting and that it was very unusual for Deirdre to have her own chamber. Magnus took in three beds with wooden frames and trundles below them. He moved to one and quickly removed his plaid. He fished around in his sporran looking for his brooch but cringed when he realized that it must lay somewhere on Deirdre’s floor. He prayed she found it before anyone else. He pleated his plaid faster than he may have ever done before. Once dressed, minus the brooch, he opened the door a crack and placed his eye against the opening. He looked up and down the passageway and once again counted to twenty before he emerged.

  He had not taken over ten steps when he heard his name being called. He wanted to melt into the floor. He recognized the voice and the one that followed. One, the whiny one, belonged to his brother by marriage Tristan Mackay’s stepmother. The other was the voice of Tristan’s former mistress, Sorcha. Both were responsible for the significant danger in which they had placed his sister. He scowled as he turned and looked at the two women. He took in Sorcha’s fine gown and satin slippers peeking out below her hem. He raised an eyebrow as his lip curled in disgust. Sorcha had moved up in station and hardly resembled the servant she once was.

  “Magnus,” Sorcha purred. She reached out her hand expecting him to kiss it.

  He broadened his feet and crossed his arms. At the same time, he heard a door creak open. It was a soft sound that most would miss, but he knew it was Deirdre’s.

  Sorcha stepped further forward and placed both of her hands on his arms. He pulled back like she scalded him.

  “Dinna,” he growled.

  She pulled back and giggled coyly.

  “It is so good to see ye again, Magnus. It has been such a long time since we were under the same roof. We heard ye had arrived, and I told Lady Beatris that I just had to see ye again since we were once such close acquaintances.” Her purring reminded him of a cat rubbing against him, and he suddenly felt itchy.

  He stood to his fullest height and breathed in deeply to expand his chest. He knew he was a veritable mountain to these women, and he planned to use it to his advantage. Scaring them a little would do them no harm, and it would ensure that they kept their distance. He knew Deirdre was still at her door, and he would leave no doubt in her mind as to the outcome of being trapped by these two women.

  “Do ye remember how close we truly were?” He sneered at them both. “So close I nearly gutted ye, Sorcha, and I would have gladly done the same to ye, Lady Beatris. Ye were going to allow those guardsmen to rape ma sister, and ye planned to sell her off as a bed slave to the Norse. Ye are lucky that someone intervened and agreed to send ye both here. Ye fit well into this pit of vipers. Remind me of the past once more, and I will be only too glad to reminisce as I do away with ye both.”

  Magnus stalked past their huffs and puffs and ‘why I never’s. His eyes slid to Deirdre’s door and saw just the outline of her ear pressed to the open crevice. He longed to stop and reassure her after her confrontation with her parents and what she just heard. That was not an option, not with Sorcha and Beatris still present and her parents possibly still nearby. Besides, he reminded himself, at court, the walls had eyes and ears. They would have to be more discreet.

  Instead, Magnus made his way to the wing where the king’s council met. He was just arriving at the last step when he once again heard his name called. This time, he was excited to recognize it. He hurried his pace and opened his arms to a bear of a man. One who nearly rivaled him in size.

  “Uncle Hamish, I didna ken ye were at court now. I hadnae heard aught aboot ye.”

  “That would be because I arrived just this eve. The king summoned me to testify aboot the troubles ye had with the MacDonnells during Mairghread’s abduction. I might also put a bug in the king’s ear to side with ye on the matters with the Gunns, Kerrs, and de Soules. I may have only been in contact with ye during Mairghread’s captivity, but I have seen yer da more than once since then.”

  “I would appreciate any help. I saw the king at supper, but I still await a formal interview.”

  “Aye well, I suspect he will want to see me first. Hear ma version of the story to see if it matches yers.”

  Hamish Sutherland, the older brother of Magnus’s now deceased mother, was a close friend and ally to the Sinclairs. The two clans feuded for generations, but the marriage of Liam Sinclair to Kyla Sutherland ended it. The love that grew between his parents made the extended family an integral part of Magnus’s childhood. He breathed easy to know his uncle was there to come to his aid. Hamish was also one of the few people beyond his siblings that knew of his past relationship with Deirdre. He had found them once after they snook out of a Highland gathering camp to go for a walk.

  “Uncle Hamish, I’ve seen her.” His look told Hamish exactly who he meant.

  “And?”

  “It was hard at first, but we have reconciled and intend to be together.”

  “Have ye already?” Hamish’s knowing look made Magnus blush.

  “Aye, and without precaution. She is ma wife. She gave her consent thrice, and we repeated our handfasting vows. There is just a wee hiccup that her father still loathes me, and most likely Da too, and he has arranged a betrothal to Archibald Hay.”

  At the mention of Hay, his uncle grimaced.

  “Slimy fellow. I dinna ken what her parents are thinking of becoming bedfellows with him.”

  “Apparently, the land that borders theirs may fall to them under stewardship. It is too far away from their main seat, with the Keith land in the way. They want control over the land for their clan to use and, more importantly to them, to gain greater standing and influence here. What’s worse is they considered, albeit briefly, marrying Deirdre to Aiden Keith. He’s ten summers and still a page here. I never realized that Lady Maeve may very well be the mastermind for their grasping. Laird Donald is nae eejit, but his wife may be even more ambitious than him.”

  “I ken all too well. I vera nearly ended up with her.” When Magnus looked askance at him, Hamish chuckled and continued. “I’d barely come into the lairdship, and she was a Ross before marrying Fraser. She was a social climber even then. She kenned that I have a large and prosperous clan. What’s more, we have stood in many kings’ good graces. She cornered me at court when I had to make ma first appearance before the king as a laird. She was a lady-in-waiting at the time and tried to claim I’d compromised her. Lucky for me, Fraser wanted her and maneuvered his way into getting her and my way out. Dinna underestimate his own ambitiousness.”

  Magnus nodded as he took in the story. He wanted to discuss his situation more with his uncle, but before they could talk further about Deirdre or the feuds, a page called Hamish in to meet with the king. They hugged, and Magnus resigned himself to leaning against the wall or pacing for yet another night.

  ~~~

  Magnus’s stomach rumbled. It was well into the night, and Magnus had not stayed in the Great Hall long enough to eat before he chased after Deirdre, but he did not dare abandon his position in case he missed his summons. Hamish spent close to two hours with the king before emerging looking haggard and tired. His uncle explained that he recounted his knowledge of the events with Mairghread and Tristan along with what he knew of the situation with Callum and Siùsan and then Alexander and Brighde. He mentioned that the Privy Council unwillingly drew him into a conversation about tax increases for several clans in the Highlands. When he finally broke free, Hamish needed to check on his own family to be sure they were settled in the
ir chambers. The two men hugged, and Magnus paced the edges of the small room in which he waited.

  ~~~

  “Ye remember me do ye, lass?”

  “Of course,” came the timid response. Deirdre peered out from under her lashes but could not bring herself to look directly at Magnus.

  It had been a year since they last saw one another. Her mother had been ill, so her father traveled to the king’s annual autumn hunt on his own. The women remained at the Fraser keep. While Deirdre enjoyed hunting, she had been more disappointed that she would not have the opportunity to see Magnus again. She hoped she would have this opportunity at this Highland gathering, and her prayers were answered; however, now she was immensely shy.

  “Ye ken I reach all the way up here? My eyes arenae on ma toes?” Magnus tapped his booted toes, and a small laugh escaped Deirdre. “Och, much better. I thought mayhap ye didna want to see me. I ken I must be disturbing ye.”

  “Nay.”

  “Nay, ye didna want to see me, or nay, I amnae disturbing ye?”

  She finally looked up and blew out a flustered breath that turned into more of a gasp when she looked into Magnus’s eyes. He had easily grown another head taller, and his shoulders were wider. Last year, at six and ten, Magnus had looked like a young man but still had some of his boyishness in his face. This year, it was clearly a man who stood before her. His seven and ten year old face was chiseled and angular. His cheekbones defined, and his jaw pronounced. His hair was longer and sat at his collar. The tips were sun bleached to blond, but the rest of his hair was still the rich mahogany brown she remembered. As she examined him, he shifted his feet and crossed his arms. She felt like her eyes might pop out of their sockets as she watched his leine strain to contain the newly enlarged muscles.

  “Deir?” Magnus almost sounded impatient, but butterflies danced in her belly when she heard the endearment that only he used. The rest of her family called her Dee.

  “Aye. I dinna think ye are disturbing me. It is vera nice to see ye again.”

  All of ye. Sweet Mother Mary, he is even more gorgeous than last year. How can that possibly be?

  “What are ye laboring over this time?” He smiled and reminded her of their initial meeting the year prior.

  “I am attempting to make a written recitation of Beowulf, but it isnae an easy tale to write.”

  “Mayhap that is why it was spoken rather than read.”

  “That may be, but that doesnae mean it canna be done,” she said with a note of defiance.

  “Then ye are just the one to do it. How long have ye been working on it?”

  “Nearly three moons. There are have been many crossing outs and rearranging of parts, but I am nearly ready to begin a fresh and final copy. That will take me at least another moon,” she sighed in frustration.

  “May I look?”

  “Of course, but ye maynae be able to read ma script. It isnae an immaculate version yet.”

  “Dinna fash. Ye have beautiful script regardless of what ye write,” Magnus murmured as he peered over her shoulder at her work.

  His chest brushed against her shoulder, and they froze as a bolt of electricity surged through them both.

  Magnus turned back to the parchment stretched out on the table. He could read her handwriting easily. It was far neater than she claimed, and while his body hummed with attention for Deirdre’s form so near him, his mind became absorbed in her written recitation of the centuries-old tale. Magnus pointed to parts where her script was a little less clear. Neither realized the time that past as they discussed not only Deirdre’s work recording the tale but the actual events of the epic poem and what life must have been like at the time of its creation. The sun had shifted, and the room was growing dim when they finally rolled up her parchment. Magnus looked as Deirdre rubbed an ink smudge from her chin. He felt bolder this year than he had the previous. He would not miss an opportunity to touch her.

  “Deir, I’ve thought of ye many times over the past year. Have ye spared me a thought or two?”

  “Aye, mayhap one or two,” she breathed out.

  “That is all? I must nae have made a good enough impression. Ye certainly did for me.”

  Deirdre turned to look over her shoulder to see Magnus but did not realize how close his head was to hers. Their noses brushed. When she started to pull back, Magnus’s hand slid under her hair to cup her nape. He rubbed his nose against hers, and they both smiled. Without releasing her, Magnus guided her to stand before him.

  “Do ye ken how much I have missed talking with ye? We didna have that much time last year, but it was enough to make me long for more. I ken I havenae ever missed talking to any other lass, nae even ma sister.”

  “I’ve missed ye too, Magnus. I’ve thought of ye quite a bit more than once or twice.”

  Her warm breath puffed across Magnus’s lips, and he knew he could not resist. Yet he would take nothing not offered to him.

  “Deirdre, has a lad ever kissed ye before?”

  “Nay.”

  “Would ye let me be the first?”

  And preferably the only and the last.

  Magnus bit his tongue to keep from speaking all of his thoughts.

  “Aye, Magnus. I would like that, but I dinna ken what I am doing,” the shyness had returned.

  “Dinna fash. I will show ye.”

  Magnus slowly brushed his lips against hers and gently increased the pressure as his arm embraced her. Her hands came to rest on his chest, and she could feel the pace increasing with every moment they kissed. She did not understand what he wanted her to do until his thumb grazed her jaw and pressed down ever so slightly.

  “Open for me, leannan,” he murmured.

  Deirdre parted her lips and felt the tip of Magnus’s tongue against her teeth. When he pressed, she opened wider and mewled when she felt his tongue fully stroke her own. He tasted of fresh mint and smelled of pine. Her body began to tingle.

  Magnus could not believe Deirdre agreed to kiss him. He had thought of it countless times and knew he was risking much by asking. He would thank God later for his good fortune. She tasted of the strawberries he had seen on the table next to her work. The sweetness of the berries lingered on her tongue as she grew braver and swirled her tongue with his. He was not sure where a groan came from until he felt the rumble in his own chest, her soft hands pressing against it. He intended to keep the kiss to barely more than a peck, but her curiosity made her willing to explore. He itched to run his hands over her body but reminded himself that she was a maiden, not a tavern wench.

  When Magnus felt his cock twitch against the back of his sporran, he knew he needed to slow things. His cock hardened the moment he walked into the solar where she escaped to within the Graham keep that hosted the spring Highland gathering. Catching a view of her more developed breasts as he approached had been enough to make him want to seek privacy to take himself in hand as he had done countless times over the past year, thinking of her as he stroked himself. That thought only made his mind jump to picturing her hands on his cock, or her mouth. It was sheer determination that allowed him to approach her, and it was sheer willpower now that made him pull away. He looked down at her swollen lips, the slight redness around the edges from his stubble, and the glazed look that still coated her eyes. He leaned forward again to rub his nose with hers before stepping back.

  “Did I do aught wrong?”

  “Wrong? Nay! How could ye think that? Ye did everything entirely too well. If I didnae step back, I would have truly compromised ye.”

  “And been forced to wed me,” she said flatly as she turned back to her chair. Her heart hammered in her chest, and she became lightheaded. She sat down, but her body felt as though it floated above her. Reality came crashing down all too abruptly when she realized that Magnus would resent feeling trapped into a marriage.

  “They wouldnae ever have to force me.” Magnus made his statement with such forthrightness and confidence she whipped her head up to look at him.
He stepped next to her and boxed her in as one arm rested on the back of her chair and the other on the table. “I am going to marry ye, dinna ever doubt that. I will court ye, woo ye, fall in love with ye and ye with me, and I will marry ye.”

  Magnus stood up and turned towards the door. He walked to the door, but before he could leave, he heard Deirdre push back her chair none too lightly.

  “Ye expect me to wait for ye when ye dinna give me any clue as to when all of this might take place. What if I dinna want to wait for ye while ye’re off nae waiting for me?” She knew her question sounded illogical as the words spewed forth, but they made perfect sense to her.

  Magnus stalked back over to her and lightly grasped her shoulders in his warm hands. She felt scorched by his touch as if it lit a fire inside her.

  “I dinna speak codswallop. I am telling ye the truth. We are too young to wed right now. I dinna think yer father would even consider it, but I will court ye until ye are old enough to marry, then I will.”

  “How will ye court me when we only see each other twice a year? Just how do ye plan to spend yer time in between?” She crossed her arms between them and offered him a mutinous glare.

  Magnus scanned the room and spotted a wide backed chair. He swept Deirdre into his arms, and she squeaked. He marched to the chair and sat down, adjusting her on his lap.

  “Have it out. Just what are ye asking or mayhap accusing me of?”

  Deirdre had not uncrossed her arms and kept them there as a border between them. Magnus looked down at her and smiled which only made her scowl.

  “Ye’re as light as a sparrow but as sharp as a hawk, eun beag.”

  “Little bird? Ye think to insult me on top of asking me to wait for ye while ye go on yer own merry way.”

  “Insult? I didna insult ye. I meant it in affection just as I call ye Deir. And where is it ye think I am going? I dinna understand why ye have taken offense. If ye dinna want me to court ye, just say as much, and I will let it stand as friendship between us.”