Tempted by a Highland Moon

by Gwyn Brodie

  Her face spread into a smile. "Of course." She curtsied and slipped into his arms.

  He couldn't help but notice how right it felt for her to be there, unlike anyone he had ever known, and it struck him like a stone that she could never be his.

  "Duncan, might I speak with you in private?" she asked, her earlier smile replaced with a frown.

  "Aye," he said, wondering what she was up to. "The library should serve." He held onto her hand, as he led her into the room, and left the door standing open. He certainly didn't want anyone accusing him of compromising the lass. He leaned against the massive desk, and crossed his arms. "What is it you wish to speak to me about?"

  She paced back and forth in front of him several times, before she finally stopped and took a deep breath. "I'm betrothed to Colin Monro, the Laird of Whitestag Castle. I should have told you that night at The Black Bird Inn, but for some reason, I didnae." She nervously fiddled with a strand of hair that had managed to escape a comb, as she waited for his reaction.

  "I already ken, lass, and I dinnae like it one damn bit," he whispered.

  Kila moved closer, until she stood within his grasp, and gazed up at him longingly.

  He raked his fingers through his hair. She belonged to another, he told himself. But like an invisible web, she drew him to her, and he could no more have stopped himself from kissing her, than stopped breathing. He cursed beneath his breath and pulled her into his arms, covering her mouth with his own. Had he gone daft? Most likely, but that wasn't about to keep him from tasting her full pink lips at least one more time.

  She seized the front of his doublet and held on, returning his kisses with a hunger that flooded his body with need.

  He wrapped his arms around her small waist, drawing her closer, memorizing her softness, her taste, her smell. His body ached for her, and he wanted naught more than to lay her on that desk, slowly undress her, and make love to her. He moved his mouth over the silky-softness of her throat, then lower to the exposed mounds of her ample breasts.

  She shivered, and he lifted his head to find her eyes dark with a passion that mirrored his own. "Duncan," she said, breathlessly, slipping her arms around his neck and drawing his mouth back down to hers.

  Blood pounded in his ears, and he could hardly breathe, so great was his desire for her, but she was bound to another man, and he would not disgrace her. Reluctantly, he pulled his mouth away from hers. "Kila, I'm sorry."

  "Dinnae be sorry, Duncan," she said, her body trembling against him.

  He exhaled loudly. "I couldnae seem to help myself, lass."

  She pressed her palm against his cheek. "I wished it as well," she whispered.

  The earl walked into the room and Kila quickly moved away.

  With pinked cheeks, and lips moist and swollen from his kisses, she curtsied to the earl, then hurried out of the library, closing the door behind her.

  The earl frowned. "Should I find someone else to escort Kila to Laird Monro's? After finding the two of you in each other's arms, I'm no' certain she'll make it there with her virginity intact."

  He shook his head. "You've naught to worry about, Ranulf. I'll no' compromise her as long as she is betrothed to Monro."

  Ranulf nodded. "Truthfully, Duncan, I never thought for a moment that you would, but a blind man could see you are quite taken with Kila. Am I correct?"

  Duncan blew out a long breath. "I'd be lying if I said I didnae want her for myself. But I realize she belongs to someone else, and where my duty lies."

  "Of course. By the way, the meal is being served, and your sister has sent me to fetch you."

  "Much thanks." With the tantalizing taste of Kila fresh on his lips, Duncan followed him into the great hall, taking his usual seat across the table from his sister.

  Balfour was already there, but it was several minutes before Kila and Verona arrived at the high table. "Lady Murray, sit here beside me," Aileen directed her.

  Verona's smile was forced, but his sister either didn't notice—or didn't care. Lady Murray glared across the table at him as she took her seat.

  "And Kila, you take the seat across from me—beside Duncan."

  He rose to his feet. "Lady Kila." Once she was seated on the bench, he sat back down beside her. His thigh brushed against hers, sending a jolt of desire through him.

  A small gasp escaped her that only he could hear, which served to heighten his longing for Kila even more. Did the brief contact have a similar effect on her?

  After using the small bowl of water to cleanse his fingers, he filled the trencher they were to share, and waited for her to begin eating. She hesitated, and he offered her a slice of venison from the tip of his knife.

  She smiled shyly, then carefully took the venison into her mouth. Once she had swallowed the juicy morsel, she turned to Duncan. "Much thanks, but I can feed myself." She sliced off another bite with her own knife and slipped it between her teeth, slowly drawing it away from the tip.

  He'd never seen anything so sensual, and clenched his teeth to keep from groaning.

  Aileen glanced back and forth between them. "Kila, Duncan has told me you were nigh run down by a horse and rider while at The Black Bird Inn."

  Kila swallowed her bite of parsnips, and nodded. "Aye. I barely escaped being trampled to death, and if no' for him, I'd most likely no' be here now."

  She smiled. "How lucky you were, that my brother was also staying at The Black Bird Inn."

  Verona nearly choked on her spiced wine. "B-brother?" she sputtered.

  Aileen turned her gaze on Verona. "Aye. Did Kila no' tell you Duncan is my younger brother?"

  Verona glared at Kila. "Nay. It seems she forgot to provide me with that information."

  The countess smiled. "Duncan is heir apparent to Kinnacraig Castle and next in line to become the MacDonell chief. He will serve the clan well, as has our father for more than twenty years."

  Duncan chuckled. "I think my sister is a wee bit prejudiced."

  Everyone laughed—except for Verona, whose face had turned a deep red.

  Kila smiled. It was good to see her stepmother, for once, without anything to say.

  The earl joined the conversation. "Duncan, along with his foster brothers, Connor and Eadan, will be escorting your party into the Highlands, Kila. They will see that you safely arrive at Whitestag Castle."

  Kila couldn't believe her ears. Once there, would Duncan expect her to just bid him farewell, then walk into another man's arms? After the passionate kisses they'd shared? Apparently, they'd not meant to him what they had to her. But what had she expected him to do? Naught, for there was naught he could do. She'd made the decision to marry Colin. Duncan's task was to make certain she reached Whitestag Castle safely, and no more. She needed to keep in mind she was betrothed, and not allow him to kiss her again—no matter how much she wanted him to. With her appetite suddenly gone, she picked at the warm bread, hardly noticing its taste.

  Duncan kept glancing at her sideways. "Are you no' hungry, lass?"

  She managed a smile. "I fear I've done overmuch and tired myself." She rose from the bench. "If you will please excuse me, Earl, Countess, I will retire to my bedchamber."

  The countess smiled. "Of course, my dear. Sleep well."

  Duncan frowned. "Aye, rest well, lass. We will all meet in the solar after breaking our fast tomorrow morn, to discuss the specifics for the upcoming journey."

  Kila nodded. "Then I bid you all good night." She could feel Duncan's gaze on her as she crossed the great hall. Once out of his sight, she lifted her skirts, raced up the narrow stairs and down the corridor to her bedchamber.

  She entered the room quietly, so as not to awaken Wyn.

  "I didnae expect ye back so soon, m'lady," she said, rising from her pallet beside the bed to help Kila undress.

  Kila shook her head. "Nay, neither did I." She trusted Wyn enough to tell her anything, but the pain in her chest wouldn't allow it this time. So instead, she lied. "I'm most tired." She forced a
yawn.

  Wyn frowned, but said naught, and put the gown away. "Then peaceful dreams, m'lady."

  "I wish you the same." Kila slipped into bed, and stared into the fire. She was so confused. How could she become the wife of one man if she cared for another?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  By the time Duncan entered the solar the following morning, everyone else had already arrived, including several guards from both the Murray and Moncrieffe clans.

  Ranulf came from across the room. "I intend to let you take care of this business," he said, over the hum of voices. "After all, you will be the one responsible for seeing that Kila reaches Whitestag safely."

  Duncan nodded, let out a loud whistle, and the room quieted.

  Conner, who had been standing beside him, winced and rubbed his ear. "I wish you would give warning before doing that. You could deafen a man with that whistle."

  Ignoring his foster brother's nagging, Duncan glanced around the room, his gaze settling on Kila. She'd broken her fast in her bedchamber that morn, and looked as if she'd gotten very little sleep. He couldn't help but wonder if he'd somehow been the cause.

  "We leave for Whitestag Castle the day after the morrow, as soon as we break our fast. The journey, depending on the weather, will take at least three—perhaps four—weeks. With several horses carrying a tent, and the ladies' belongings, we'll no' be able to travel any faster. There are inns scattered along the way, where we will spend a day or so to rest the horses—as well as ourselves. The supplies we will need are being gathered as we speak, and all will be readied by the time of our departure. There is one thing I wish to make clear. I am in charge. The guards will follow my, Connor's and Eadan's orders and no one else's." He looked at the guards. "Is that clear?"

  "Aye, Duncan," agreed one of Ranulf's guards, Hern, whom he had known many years.

  The other guards, including those belonging to Lady Murray, nodded their agreement as well.

  "Good. That's all I have to say on the matter."

  As Kila followed Verona from the room, her gaze met his, but she quickly looked away.

  Now he knew he'd done—or said—something that had upset her, and as soon as he got her alone, he intended to find out what.

  AS KILA STROLLED THROUGH the gardens, she spotted the magnificent rose bushes she'd come there to see. She touched the satiny pink petals of a single rose, and bent her head to inhale its perfumed fragrance.

  "Lovely, are they no'?"

  She jumped, as a male voice cut through her thoughts. "You startled me." She had purposely come to the gardens to be alone and think, and Duncan was the last person she wished to see.

  "I'm sorry, lass. It seems I've a knack for doing just that." He moved closer, then plucked a rose and tucked it behind her ear. His thumb brushed against her cheek, and her heart lurched.

  "These roses were once in my mother's garden on the Isle of Skye. She loved sitting among them, on the oak garden bench my father had made for her, while doing her needlepoint. When I was very young, she'd bring me into the garden with her." An array of emotions played across his handsome face. "When Aileen married Ranulf and moved to Perthshire, my father had no objection to her taking a few along with her to place in her own garden."

  "How old were you when your mother died?" she asked softly.

  "I'd almost seen ten summers. After that, Aileen became more mother than sister, even though she's but seven summers older than me."

  "I can see that she's proud of you and loves you very much."

  He nodded. "Aye, as I do her."

  He turned to face her and her pulse quickened. "'Tis no' coincidence I came into the gardens, Kila. I saw you come this way, and I wished to speak with you alone. Apparently, something has changed between us."

  She sighed, and took a seat on the edge of the pool near the spewing fish, dipping her fingers into the cool water. "After the kisses we've shared, you dinnae appear the least bit troubled to be handing me over to another man. I ken I'm betrothed, and I should have told you so when we first met, but I didnae, and now I've... feelings for you, regardless of whether or no' you have any for me."

  He snorted, and raked his fingers through his long hair. How she wished to slip her own fingers into its thickness and to draw his mouth down to hers. Is that no' what got you into this mess? "Dinnae you ken 'tis ripping my heart out just thinking about another man making love to you? When 'tis all I think about doing myself?"

  The passion in his words brought heat to her body and tears to her eyes. "Then why did you agree to take me to him?"

  Duncan leaned against a nearby stone wall and folded his arms across his chest. "I wished to see you safe and protected on such a long and perilous journey. And 'twould also give me a reason to be with you a while longer." He slowly shook his head. "If only we had met before your father betrothed you to Monro."

  A wave of excitement sent a shiver down her spine. She'd been wrong. He did care for her. But what difference did it make? She was to marry another. But for a short time, at least, she would be with him, and she would savor every moment, until, with her heart breaking, she had to watch him ride away and leave her behind.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks, and in an instant, Duncan was on his knees before her."Dinnae weep, lass. All will be well. I promise." He cupped her face between his hands, and gently wiped away her tears with his thumbs. He got to his feet and held out his hand to her. "Come, walk with me."

  She took his hand and rose from her seat.

  He drew her arm through his, then led her around the gardens. "Aileen said she'd kenned you since you were a child."

  She nodded. "Aye, she has. I've always loved visiting Stonehill Keep, and I think most highly of your sister and the earl."

  "It seems they feel the same about you."

  Kila smiled. "I'm glad."

  He chuckled. "Poor Aileen had her hands full raising me. I was no easy lad, I'll tell you that. When I was around twelve summers, I found a dead red squirrel in the wood and put it in her bed."

  She grimaced. "I'll venture she didnae take that very well?"

  "Nay. She threatened to make me spend the night in the dungeon, if I ever did anything like that again. She was so angry, I believed her. Though I was tempted on several occasions, I never did."

  She laughed. "I can see why."

  They talked more about their childhoods, and Duncan's contagious laughter lightened the weight on her heart—at least for a time. His very presence surrounded and comforted her like a warm blanket, making her want to stay close to him forever.

  Duncan looked up at the sun. "'Tis already time for the midday meal." With their arms still entwined, he turned back toward the castle, but she stopped him.

  "Duncan?"

  "Aye?"

  "Perhaps we should no' be seen entering the castle together."

  He nodded. "Aye." He let go of her hand.

  She reluctantly slipped her arm from his. "Much thanks."

  "For what?"

  She smiled. "Making me feel better," she said, then headed toward the castle.

  The soft sway of her hips held Duncan's attention until she disappeared inside. He sighed. Whenever she was near, his body teemed with yearning.

  He heard a noise behind him, drew his dirk, and spun around. "Who goes there?"

  Connor sheepishly stepped out from behind a large trellis of ivy, followed by Eadan.

  Duncan shoved his weapon back into its sheath. "Why the devil are you two skulking around the gardens?" He narrowed his eyes. "Are you spying on me?"

  Connor flashed his perfect smile, one that had seduced many a lass. "Nay. One of the guards saw you go in this direction. We merely came to fetch you for the midday meal."

  Eadan nodded enthusiastically.

  Duncan growled. It seemed that excuse was becoming quite popular as of late. "A likely story. How long have the two of you been standing there?"

  Connor grinned. "Long enough."

  Cursing beneath his breath, Duncan s
talked off, leaving them chuckling after him. Saints above! You'd think the two of them had seen seven summers, instead of twenty-seven.

  AS SOON AS KILA STEPPED through the door, Verona grabbed her arm and jerked her aside. "What do you think you're doing?"

  She tried to pull away, but her stepmother tightened her grip, causing her to wince. "I dinnae ken what you're talking about," she lied. She was certain Verona knew she'd been alone in the gardens with Duncan.

  "Dinnae lie to me, tart. What would Laird Monro think if he knew you were consorting with another man in the garden?"

  Balfour stood a few feet away, smirking. Most likely, it'd been him who'd told Verona, knowing she'd give Kila a good tongue lashing because of it. He seemed to enjoy making her life miserable, ever since she'd refused his advances upon his arrival at Windmere.

  Kila shook her head. "'Tis no' what you think. Duncan is a good man, a kind man, and we were merely talking."

  Verona snorted. "I'm no' daft. I ken what goes on between a man and a woman when they're alone."

  Anger shot through Kila, and she jerked her arm away. "I'm certain if anyone does, you do." She whirled around, and headed for the great hall, leaving Verona to stare after her. She couldn't believe that woman, of all people, had the nerve to call her a tart.

  INSIDE THE GREAT HALL, Duncan sat down at the high table, where Aileen and Ranulf were already seated.

  Connor and Eadan came in behind him and took a seat nearby, both of them stifling a smile.

  Ignoring them, he filled his trencher, choosing foods he'd noticed were some of Kila's favorites. When she arrived a few minutes later, she appeared to be upset.

  "Is something amiss, lass?" he whispered.

  "Verona kens we were together in the gardens."

  He shrugged. "There's naught to ken."

  She sighed. "Of course, you're right. I should not worry about what she says, for we ken the truth of it."

  He nodded. It seemed Verona took every opportunity to make Kila's life more difficult and give her cause to worry. Why couldn't the blasted female just leave her be?