by Gwyn Brodie
"I'll send my lady's maid to help you get ready for bed. If you need anything else, let her ken."
"You're most kind, Lady MacKinnon."
"There'll be none of that. 'Tis Sorcha."
Kila smiled. "Sorcha."
"That's better." She moved to the door. "Sleep well, and I will see you in the morn, when you break your fast," she said, then left.
While she waited for the maid, Kila crossed the room and looked out the window. Night had fallen over the land, and the full moon, hanging between two mountains, was mirrored in the stillness of the loch. Such beauty always took her breath away.
Behind her, the door opened, then closed. She turned, expecting to find Sorcha's maid, but instead, found Duncan. She smiled, and ran into his outstretched arms.
He gently stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. "Saints above, lass. You make me daft." He bent his head and kissed her, groaning as he took his mouth away from hers.
Her knees trembled. How she loved and needed this man who held her so tenderly. "The maid will be here at any moment. You dinnae wish me to be thought a wanton woman, do you?"
Duncan answered her by pressing his warm lips to her throat, causing her to moan with pleasure. He chuckled. "Nay, I wish no such thing. I'll go, but I'll no' be liking it." He kissed her again, checked the corridor, then left.
Kila sighed. She'd get little sleep, for her thoughts and dreams would be filled with naught but Duncan.
DUNCAN'S BODY HUMMED with desire, as he made his way down the stairs, and to the library, where Galen and Alex waited. He walked through the open door, and closed it behind him, then took a seat near the fire.
Alex poured them all a dram of whisky and took a seat. "The lass is well?"
"Aye. She is strong willed, much like Sorcha."
Galen tossed back his drink, and wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, before handing his empty cup to his brother-in-law to be refilled. "Will you be in need of the gown?" he asked, one dark brow raised, and a mischievous grin on his face. All three of his friends wives had wed in the same blue gown and his wife would be expected to do the same.
Duncan grinned. "Aye, I will—once this matter with Monro is settled."
Galen and Alex laughed.
Alex leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "Any sense of who might be wishing the lass dead?"
"I'm no' certain, but I'll wager 'tis Verona Murray and her brother, Balfour. I cannae stand either of them. The way the woman speaks to the lass is enough to make my blood boil."
Galen frowned. "What makes you think 'tis them?"
"I've no' yet told her, but the maid who attended Laird Murray suspects he was poisoned in much the same way as Kila. And the two were about on both occasions."
"For what reason would they want Kila or her father dead?" Alex wondered.
Duncan shook his head. "I dinnae ken, but I intend to find out. Also, there's a good chance Verona's first two husbands were poisoned as well. I've sent a missive to both clans asking for their help in finding out the truth of it. The return missive will go to Kinnacraig Castle. Do you mind if I send one of your messengers to wait for it and bring it back?"
Alex shook his head. "Nay. Do so first thing on the morrow."
"Much thanks."
Galen frowned. "What of Monro? Do you think he still intends to wed Kila?"
"Perhaps, for she does have an impressive dowry. But he was also very angry at both of us. Your guess is as good as mine as to whether he thinks to continue with the marriage."
Alex squatted before the fire, and added wood to the dying embers, bringing the flames back to life. "I've added extra guards in the bailey and more archers on the ramparts, for good measure."
Duncan nodded. "Much thanks, Alex. I dinnae ken where else to take her, but here."
He smiled. "You're always welcome at Blackstone, my friend."
Galen crossed his arms and lowered his brows. "What's your plan?"
"I'll send a missive along with your messenger to Kinnacraig, for my father to dispatch a garrison to escort the two of us back to Skye."
Galen grinned. "You intend to keep her then, even if Monro willnae break the contract?"
A slow grin spread across his face. "She's mine. Let him try to take her."
KILA WOKE THE FOLLOWING morning, feeling more rested than she had for a long time. The window coverings were still drawn, and the room dark. She turned onto her side, thinking about how much she'd missed sleeping in Duncan's strong arms the night before.
Aggie, Sorcha's lady's maid, slipped into the room and placed a gown across the foot of the bed, then smiled when she saw that Kila was awake. "I was trying no' to wake ye, m'lady."
"I've been awake for a few minutes." She threw back the bed covers, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. "What time is it?"
"The midday meal is about to be served."
Kila gasped. "I cannae believe I slept so long."
"Lady MacKinnon sent a gown for ye, m'lady. I'll fetch some hot water, then help ye get dressed." She left the bedchamber, but soon returned with a steaming bucket of water. She filled the porcelain basin, and placed a rose scented soap beside it.
Once Kila had bathed, Aggie helped her cleanse and rinse her long hair. "I feel so much better. Much thanks, Aggie," she said, once she was finished.
The maid smiled. "Ye're welcome, m'lady." After opening the window coverings, she helped Kila into the gown, which was the same deep green as the great pines in the surrounding forest, with matching slippers, then brushed out her long damp hair, drawing it away from her shoulders with a matching ribbon.
She left Aggie making the bed, and hurried down the stairs and to the great hall, where the murmur of many voices filled the air. The mouthwatering aroma of food reached her, and her stomach growled, but thankfully, no one heard it but Kila.
Duncan looked up from the trencher, and froze as Kila enter the great hall. She was a vision of loveliness, and he still couldn't believe she'd agreed to become his wife.
When she saw him, her face spread into a smile that tugged at his heart.
He rose from the bench until she was seated, then sat back down. "You look lovely, Kila," he said, finding it hard to pull his gaze away.
Her cheeks pinked. "Much thanks. I'm most embarrassed to have slept so long."
He frowned. "Dinnae be. After all that you've been through the last few days, you deserved a good rest."
Sorcha smiled. "Duncan is right. You were exhausted last night. Would you like to go for a walk in the garden with the twins and me after the meal?"
She nodded. "I'd like that very much. I love children."
That was good, for Duncan couldn't wait to hear the laughter of their offspring echoing through the corridors of Kinnacraig Castle.
Alex patted Sorcha's hand. "I've a pair of matching black two-year-old mares I wish to give to my nephew and niece, but my dear sister willnae hear of it.
Sorcha frowned. "Nay, for they're much too young to even think about riding a horse. After all, they've but seen three summers. A few years from now, perhaps."
Galen laughed. "The blacks will die of old age before Sorcha agrees to allow either of them to sit a horse. They'd best be ready to walk everywhere they go."
His wife gently smacked him on the back of his hand. "Dinnae be ridiculous, Galen. I'm not quite that bad, am I?"
Alex chuckled. "I'd no' answer that, if I were you, Galen."
"I dinnae plan to."
Kila smiled, enjoying their easy going banter. Mealtime at Windmere had once been joyful and filled with laughter—until her mother's death. When she died, the joy and laughter died along with her.
Duncan reached over and squeezed her hand. He seemed so at ease around his friends.
She smiled up at him, and he winked. Never had Kila imagined loving anyone as much as she loved Duncan.
Sorcha rose from the table. "Are you ready, Kila?"
She nodded. "Aye."
> Duncan stood. "I'll see you later, lass. Enjoy your walk."
"I'm sure I will." She followed Sorcha up the stairs and down the corridor to the nursery, worrying whether or not the children would like her.
Inside the nursery, a young girl and boy sat on the floor playing with several intricately carved wooden animals, while an older woman sat nearby, watching over them.
"Aiden, Alie, I'd like to introduce you to a friend of Duncan's, and a new friend of mine. This is Lady Kila. Come and greet her."
The two children crawled to their feet.
"You're a bonnie lass," Aiden said, grinning up at her.
Sorcha rolled her eyes. "There's no mistaking he's his father's son."
Kila bit her lip to keep from bursting into laughter.
Alie's round face spread into a dimpled smile. "'Tis very nice to meet you, my lady," she said, before attempting a curtsey.
Kila squatted down in front of them. "Tis very nice to meet the two of you as well, but please, call me Kila." She picked up a wooden horse and sheep, running her fingers over the animals life-like features. "These are exquisite."
"Galen carved them for the children," she said, proudly.
Kila was amazed. "But they're so detailed. He is truly an artist."
Sorcha beamed. "I've always thought so, and he will be most pleased to hear that you think so as well. Come, children, we're going for a walk in the gardens with our friend, Kila." She turned to the older woman. "Get some rest, Molly. I ken you need it."
Molly chuckled. "Shall I fetch the bairns a bit later?"
"Nay. We'll return them to the nursery, once we're finished with our walk."
"As ye wish, m'lady."
Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, Aiden and Alie slipped a wee hand into each of Kila's. She looked over at Sorcha and smiled.
"They like you."
"And I like them, as well," she said, giving each little hand a gentle squeeze.
Once they were outside the castle, Alie pulled her toward a trellis covered in red roses. "Come, pick roses with me."
Aiden frowned and pulled her toward an open area surrounded by low hedges. "Nay, play with me."
Sorcha laughed. "The two of you can play together, while Kila and I sit on the bench and enjoy the sunshine."
The twins reluctantly let go of her, but within minutes their squeals filled the air, as they chased one another through the hedges.
"I cannae wait to have children of my own," Kila said, as they raced past.
"You'll be a wonderful mother."
"How can you be certain?"
"You have a way with them that makes them feel special, and every child needs to feel special."
Alie stopped running and plucked a buttercup from the ground. After holding it against her tiny nose and sniffing loudly, she presented it to Kila."
"Much thanks, Alie. Would you like me to show you how to weave the buttercups into a wreath?"
She nodded, her red curls bobbing up and down.
Aiden came up beside her. "May I play?"
Kila chuckled. "Aye, of course. But first, we must gather the buttercups."
AFTER SEEING TO TEARLACH, Duncan headed for the garden. He rounded the corner to find Kila sitting on the ground, her gown spread out around her, and her lap piled high with buttercups. Aiden and Alie sat on either side, intently focused on what she was doing.
"There, 'tis finished." She placed the small wreath of buttercups atop Alie's head.
Alie looked at her mother and grinned, then she saw him. "Duncan," she shouted, then crawled to her feet, and raced over, with Aiden on her heels.
He scooped one twin up in each arm. "Happy to see me, are you?" he teased.
Alie kissed him on one cheek and Aiden the other.
Duncan chuckled. "I'm certainly glad I decided to come to the garden. 'Tis no' every day that I'm greeted so."
"Look what Kila made?" Alie said, proudly pointing to the wreath on her head."
"Aye, and it makes you look more bonnie, if such a thing is even possible."
She giggled, and threw her arms around his neck.
Sorcha laughed. "Come, children. 'Tis time for your naps."
Duncan gently placed them on the ground.
Each took Sorcha by the hand. "Tell Duncan and Kila goodbye."
After many goodbyes and waves, he and Kila were finally alone. She was still sitting on the ground, with buttercups in her lap.
"Mind if I sit with you, lass?"
She frowned. "Well, that depends."
"Depends on what?" he asked, forcing himself to look solemn.
"Whether or no' you intend to weave a wreath," she said, her attempt at seriousness failing, as the hint of a smile curved the corners of her tempting mouth.
"Very well." He sat down beside her. "But I must warn you, I'm very good at weaving flowers."
She looked surprised. "You are?"
"Aye. Aileen forced me to help her make garlands to decorate the kirk when she wed, until I never wished to see another."
Kila laughed until she was holding her stomach.
He smiled. "You find that amusing, do you?"
"Aye, I do," she said, before breaking into another bout of laughter.
He growled playfully and gently pushed her onto her back.
With her long hair splayed out around her and her cheeks pink from the warmth of the sun, desire rushed over him like a river. He cupped her cheek, and covered her mouth with his.
"I'm no' one to interrupt a good kiss," Galen said, bringing Duncan to his senses, and Kila to a sitting position. "But I thought you might like to ken you have an audience."
"Who?" Duncan asked, looking about.
Galen pointed up.
Duncan and Kila both looked upward at the same time, to find a great many guards leaning over the ramparts grinning.
Kila's face reddened. "Saints above!"
He snorted. "I wouldnae say that, lass." Duncan got to his feet and helped her up.
"I'll never be able to look any of them in the face again," she said, as the three entered the castle. "I'm going to my bedchamber."
The two men broke into laughter.
The way she glared at them, Duncan could see Kila didn't think there was anything amusing about it.
Without another word, she lifted her skirts and hurried up the stairs.
Kila was fuming as she entered her bedchamber and closed the door. How could anyone think it the least bit humorous to be gawked at while you're kissing? She sat down on the window seat and looked out over the loch. After allowing herself to calm down, she decided that perhaps she shouldn't have gotten so upset with Duncan and Galen for laughing about the situation, even though she had been mortified. After all, that sort of thing didn't seem to bother men as it did women. She sighed. She supposed she should just be thankful Duncan's hand had been on her cheek, instead of elsewhere.
A knock on her bedchamber door woke Kila from her nap. She opened it to find Duncan standing in the corridor, a broad grin on his handsome face. "You didnae come down to the great hall for supper, so I came to fetch you."
"Much thanks. Give me a moment." She closed the door and checked her hair in the mirror. Satisfied, she joined him in the corridor, and slipped her arm through his.
He patted her hand. "Are you still angry with me?"
She smiled. How could anyone stay angry with Duncan for very long? "Nay. I suppose I made more out of it than I should have."
In the great hall, two guards walked past, grinned and slapped him on the back.
Kila didn't need to ask why.
Duncan smiled, but said naught.
Once the meal ended, he walked her back to her bedchamber.
"Would you like to come in for a moment?" she asked, innocently.
He grinned. "Aye." He followed her inside and, once the door was closed, he sat down and pulled her onto his lap.
She slipped her arms around his neck and lowered her mouth to his, kissing him p
assionately.
Duncan groaned. A mere kiss from Kila nigh brought him to his knees. When she lifted her head, he moved his mouth to the silky skin of her throat. He raised his head and looked into her amber eyes, dark with passion. The battle raging inside him was one that no man wanted to fight. He stood with her in his arms. "I'd best say goodnight, lass." He kissed her once more, before setting her on her feet.
"Good night, Duncan." She closed the door behind him.
After reluctantly leaving Kila, Duncan made his way up the twisting stone steps to the ramparts to clear his head. He quietly greeted the guards keeping watch, then walked to the wall and peered out over the dark wooded countryside. He stood there for some time, hearing the night birds and insects, but listening for any sound that seemed out of the ordinary. Satisfied no one was about, he turned to go, then froze. There were voices coming from the wood. The archers on the ramparts readied their bows. Had Monro's men finally found them?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Duncan peered over the edge of the ramparts, but it was much too dark to see.
"Who goes there?" shouted James, a MacPherson guard.
"Friends of Laird MacPherson," a man replied in return.
Duncan grinned. It was Connor. "Stand down. He speaks the truth."
The guards relaxed and went about their duty.
He took the steps two at a time, then hurried into the torch lit bailey, where Conner and Eadan were dismounting. He grinned, and threw an arm around each of their shoulders.
Alex stepped out into the bailey, and his face broke into a smile. "After what Duncan told me, I was concerned for your welfare."
"As was I," Duncan agreed. "After the fight with the guards, I didnae ken what happened to the two of you, though Kila did tell me you'd been locked inside your bedchamber, with a guard posted outside the door. How did you manage to escape?"
Connor grinned. "I pounded on the door, insisting we be allowed to speak with Laird Monro, until the guard finally threw open the door. That was when Eadan smashed him over the head with a chair."
Eadan nodded. "Aye. We kept our faces hidden, and slipped out through the kitchen. With the castle in such an uproar over Lady Kila aiding your escape from the dungeon, no one seemed to pay us any attention."