by Gwyn Brodie
Duncan grinned. He could well image the rage on Colin Monro's face upon learning Kila had helped him escape. "Did you cross paths with any of Monro's men along the way?"
"Once, several miles from here," Connor said. "But we managed to hide in a thicket before they spotted us."
Alex gestured to the horses they'd ridden to Blackstone Castle. "What happened to your own horses?" Eadan and Connor had purchased two fine young stallions from him the year before.
"The stables were teeming with guards, so we had to take what we could find, then left by the unlocked postern gate," Connor said, frowning. "But we intend to get our own horses back, once this matter is settled."
The MacPherson laird nodded. "Good. Those were two of my finest, sired by Cin's stallion, Shadowmere."
Duncan chuckled. "You've me to thank for the postern gate being unlocked, for I've the key in my pack."
They all laughed.
"Come, let's find the two of you something to eat," Alex said, leading the way into the castle.
KILA HAD BEEN SOAKING in the tub for some time when a knock sounded at the door. She suddenly realized she'd not locked it behind Sorcha's lady's maid when she'd brought her a clean shift. "Aye?" she said warily.
The door opened, and in stepped Duncan.
Saints above! She lowered herself into the tub, until the water covered her breasts. "I'm taking a bath!"
He grinned. "I can see that, lass." The way he was looking at her made her heart flutter and her body heat.
"I thought you'd like to ken Connor and Eadan managed to escape Whitestag and are now downstairs in the great hall filling their bellies."
She smiled. "I'm so glad. I was worried about them."
Instead of exiting the bedchamber, once he'd given her the message, he barred the door, then crossed the room and knelt beside the tub. He picked up the cake of rose scented soap and gave her a wicked grin.
"W-w-what do you think you're doing, Duncan MacDonell?"
"You'll see. Lean forward."
She hesitated for a moment, but her curiosity got the best of her, and she did as he asked.
He skimmed the soap over her shoulders, then down her back to the flare of her hips, and she shivered.
"Are you cold, lass?"
"Nay," she squeaked, waiting with anticipation for what he meant to do next.
He slipped his finger beneath her chin, and lifted her face to his. He kissed her, gently at first, then he groaned, and his kisses deepened. "Lass, you drive me mad," he growled, and moved his lips to the wet skin of her throat. His hand disappeared beneath the water, caressing first one breast then the other.
Kila moaned. She could hardly breathe. What was happening to her? She lay back against the tub.
He grasped her ankle, then slowly moved his hand up her leg, past her thigh, until he touched her where he had done so once before. He gently caressed her, and Kila clung to him, climbing higher and higher until she reached the brink and was swept over the edge by wave after wave of sensations so intense she trembled and cried out.
He grinned. "Liked that, did you, lass?" He couldn't wait to show her the true extent of love making.
"Aye," she whispered, breathlessly. She looked up at him through her dark lashes, making him want her all the more.
He'd loved watching her find her pleasure, but he was having one hell of a time keeping his own desire at bay. But he'd made up his mind not to make love to her properly until she was truly his, and no longer betrothed to another man. He kissed her thoroughly, then got to his feet.
She looked up at him, her lids heavy with passion. "Where are you going?"
"My own bedchamber." He ached for her in a way he never had for another woman, and if he didn't leave now, he'd not leave at all.
She grabbed a large linen clot and covered herself, as she stepped from the tub, even though he'd touched every inch of her glorious body. "Dinnae go," she begged. "I wish you to stay."
He pulled her against him, soaking his shirt and plaid. "Believe me, I dinnae wish to, but I want you so badly, I cannae trust myself."
"Then I give myself to you." She let go of the linen.
Her full breasts were perfectly round, her waist, small, and flared out to well-proportioned hips. Her legs were long with shapely thighs and calves. Never had he laid eyes on anything as exquisite as Kila. He exhaled loudly. He wanted her in the worst way. "A fine gift 'tis, lass, and I plan to accept it as soon as we're wed." He kissed her pouting mouth, then reluctantly left her looking after him, when what he wanted to do was lay her on the bed and make love to her until the morning light slipped across the floor.
As he made his way to his bedchamber, he met Sorcha in the corridor. "What happened to you? You're soaking wet, and smell of roses."
He raised a brow, and could see the instant she realized the truth of it.
She rolled her eyes, and continued down the corridor, mumbling something about men.
He chuckled and entered his bedchamber.
KILA TURNED OVER IN bed and stretched. She'd gotten little sleep the night before because of Duncan. The way he had touched her had but stirred her blood for something more and she couldn't wait to find out what. She wished he'd spent the night with her, even though she'd have been too embarrassed to face Sorcha, if they had been found out. She loved Duncan, and would gladly have given herself to him. Just thinking about the wanton way her body had reacted to his touch, make Kila shiver with desire.
A knock sounded at the door.
"Aye?"
"'Tis Aggie."
"Come."
Sorcha's lady's maid entered carrying a gown of the darkest crimson, with slippers to match. "Lady MacKinnon sent this to ye, m'lady, with orders to help ye get dressed. She wished ye to wait for her, so that the two of ye might go down to break yer fast together."
"Of course." Kila slipped out of bed and ran her hand over the gown. "How beautiful! I will certainly thank Lady MacKinnon for her kindness on both accounts." She couldn't wait to see Duncan's reaction when he saw her in the dress. She'd felt so safe since her arrival at Blackstone Castle, she'd tried not to think about the real reason they were there—seeking refuge from Monro. A thread of fear began to wrap around her chest, but she quickly shoved it away.
DUNCAN MADE HIS WAY across the great hall to the high table, where Alex, Galen, Connor and Eadan were already breaking their fast. He'd planned on bringing Kila down with him, but Sorcha had sent word she and Kila would arrive together. He took a seat beside Galen.
"Where's the lass?" Alex asked. "Have you locked her in her room to keep the rest of us from appreciating her beauty?"
"Nay. Sorcha insisted on them arriving together."
Galen raised a brow. "I understand you were soaked to the skin last night. Did you go for a swim in the loch?" His sense of humor was at full mast.
Duncan grinned, remembering with absolute clarity why he'd been soaked to the skin, but he wasn't about to tell Galen.
Galen raised his cup of ale. "To our lovely ladies'."
The others followed suit. "Aye," they said in unison, before downing their ale.
Alex smiled. "Here is my sister now, along with Lady Kila."
Duncan looked up from his oatcakes, and stopped chewing. Dressed in a crimson gown, that accentuated her shapely curves, and her long dark hair hanging loose about her shoulders, Kila was absolutely breathtaking.
She smiled when she saw him, and his chest tightened.
Galen got to his feet, seating Sorcha between himself and Duncan.
Duncan seated Kila, then sat down beside her. "Morn, lass." He filled their trencher with oatcakes, apple slices, berries, cheese and bread, and two strawberry tarts.
She smiled, then picked up an oatcake and took a bite.
He loved her more than his own life, and would gladly give it, before he would turn her over to Monro.
WHILE BREAKING HER fast, Verona looked across the high table at Colin. "You've hardly eaten a bite, my laird."
"I'm no' hungry, Lady Murray, but you are my guest. Please, eat all you wish."
She had to find a way to take his mind off of Kila and onto her. "Perhaps a walk in the gardens will lift your spirits."
He sighed. "Very well." He rose from the table and offered her his arm, then led her outside and into the gardens.
If she could only convince him he needed an experienced woman and not a sniveling girl who knew naught about how to please a man. Besides, Kila was unwilling to wed him and had slept with another man. Seduction was Verona's forte, and with Colin Monro, she would do whatever it took to get into his life—and his bed—permanently. As they strolled through the gardens, she pressed her curves against him whenever the opportunity arose, pretending she was unaware anything of the sort had happened.
After a few minutes, Colin stopped, and looked down at her. Her heart pounded against her chest, as she readied herself for the kiss she'd been waiting for so long.
"Lady Murray?"
She smiled coyly up at him. "Aye, Colin?"
"Surely you're no' trying to seduce me, while your stepdaughter's whereabouts are yet unknown? I'd think you would be as worried about her safety as I am."
She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. "Of course, I'm worried about Kila as much as you. There's no telling what that uncivilized Highlander might do to her."
He frowned. "Need I remind you, my lady, that I too am a Highlander?"
What had she done? "You misread my meaning. He is a barbarian, while you, my laird, are a gentleman."
"I see," he said, then turned them about and reentered the castle, where he quickly took his leave.
Angry at herself, Verona raced up the stairs and into her bedchamber, where the maid was folding fresh linens. "Get out!" she ordered the wide-eyed girl, who immediately stopped what she was doing and left the bedchamber. Once the door was closed, Verona grabbed the pitcher up from the table and angrily threw it against the door, sending shards of glass across the room. Seducing Colin was not going to be easy, and would take time. But once Balfour saw to Duncan and Kila's demise, she would have all the time in the world. And then of course, Colin would need Verona to comfort him, which she would be more than willing to do.
She paced back and forth across her bedchamber until she was exhausted, and decided to take a short nap before the midday meal. She'd just stretched out on the bed, when a knock sounded at the door. "Aye?"
"'Tis Laird Monro's steward, Lady Murray. My laird wishes your presence in the solar."
Verona couldn't believe her ears. Perhaps her seduction had worked its magic on Colin. Why else would he wish to see her? Giddy with excitement, she checked her reflection in the hand mirror of polished silver, pinched her cheeks, rubbed her lips and adjusted her bodice to show even more cleavage, then hurried to the solar. She took a deep breath, then knocked.
"Come."
Verona opened the door and slipped inside, being certain to close it behind her. She didn't want any interruptions when Colin took her into his arms. "You wished to see me, laird?" she asked innocently.
Colin poured Verona a dram of whisky, then one for himself. "Aye, and I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here. I've been thinking about this situation with Lady Kila and MacDonell, and would like your thoughts on the matter."
She felt like a fool. She clenched her teeth, keeping her anger hidden as best she could. "My thoughts? About what?"
He blew out a hard breath. "Did he seduce her? Or is she truly in love with him?"
She could hardly believe it. Here was her chance. "He refused to keep away from Kila, even though I warned him. After a time, I believe she fancied herself in love with him and allowed him to compromise her, even though he knew she was already betrothed to you, my laird," she offered, hoping to redeem herself for the Highlander remark she'd made earlier.
He frowned. "Her father was a good man, and a loyal friend of mine. I promised him I'd take good care of her, and I will. If Kila changes her mind about MacDonell, and wishes to go ahead with the ceremony, I'll still have her as my wife."
Verona's mouth dropped open. Either Colin was gullible, daft, or both. Whichever, she still wanted him and didn't plan on giving up on him so easily. Hopefully, Balfour had already taken care of the problem.
A knock sounded at the door. "M'laird, I've news of Lady Kila and MacDonell." The man's voice was muffled through the closed door.
Dead or alive? She wondered. Perhaps at least one of them was dead, and she hoped it was Kila.
Colin hurried across the room and threw open the door. "Tell me," he ordered the guard in the corridor.
"Six of our best men, including myself, captured Lady Kila, but MacDonell was thought dead after falling from a cliff, while fighting with Dubh."
Colin frowned. "Go on."
"The second night, while we slept, the lass escaped. None of us are certain as to what really happened, except for Willie, who is badly injured. According to the healer, he was hit in the face, then struck his head on a rock when he fell. He's no' yet awoke—and Dubh, is dead, his throat sliced open."
"Dead? Did anyone actually see MacDonell?"
He shook his head. "Nay, but we never found Lady Kila, and she was later seen with MacDonell."
"Where?" Colin asked, pouring himself a dram of whisky and tossing it down.
"Blackstone Castle."
"Tell me, how do you ken they are there?"
"Cam and Duff eventually picked up their trail, which ended at Blackstone. They kept out of sight, and watched the lady and MacDonell gain entrance to the castle."
He slammed down the empty goblet. "Then 'tis certain. Have my horse saddled, and ready forty more guards to accompany me."
Verona jumped up from her seat. "I'm going with you." This might be her last chance to make absolutely certain everything went her way.
He shook his head. "A battlefield is no place for a woman, Lady Murray."
"But she's my stepdaughter. She may need me," she pleaded. "The poor dear has been through so much."
He eyed her for a moment before agreeing. "Have Lady Murray's horse saddled as well."
"Aye, m'laird," he said, then hurried away.
"I'll fetch my cloak." She curtsied, then left the solar. Naught was going as planned. She had given Balfour a simple job, and obviously, he had failed. Was everything left up to her to do? Inside her bedchamber, she strapped her sgian dubh to her calf, then pulled the blade from its sheath and checked its sharpness.
Verona's skill in using a blade could be directly attributed to a French lover, who just happened to be a blade expert. He taught her everything he knew, but unfortunately, she'd ended up using her newfound skills on him late one night, after he'd struck her. She gripped the hilt of the sgian dubh, stabbing and slicing through the air at her imaginary victim. This time, she would finish Kila.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
With Kila on his arm, Duncan entered the solar where Alex had sent word for them all to gather. She took a seat beside the fire, while Duncan joined Connor and Eadan across the room.
Connor nodded toward Kila. "Do you think Monro will come after the lass?"
Duncan snorted. "Would no' you?"
"Aye, she's a beauty, for sure."
Eadan frowned. ''Tis you, Duncan, he'll come after, as well. You took the woman he was to wed right out from under his nose. He'll be after blood—your blood."
He grinned. "Well, actually, 'twas she who took me out from under his nose."
His foster brothers chuckled.
Alex entered the room, followed by Galen with Sorcha on his arm. She took a seat beside Kila, and waited for her brother to speak.
After closing the door, he poured himself a drink, and tossed it back. "I've just learned there is a group of well-armed men camped in the wood near the river, north of the castle."
Kila visibly paled, and grasped the arm of the settle.
Duncan wanted to soothe her fears away, but that would have to wait. He frowned.
"Do we ken how many?"
"Twenty—perhaps thirty."
It had to be Monro. He'd somehow found out where he and Kila had sought refuge.
Connor stood to the side of the window and carefully peered out into the dark night. "Why has no one approached the castle?"
"If I'm no' mistaken," Duncan said, "they've sent a messenger to inform Monro that Kila and I have been found. And they're waiting until his arrival to attack." He poured half a dram of whisky and gave it to Kila. "This will help, lass," he said softly.
She took a sip and flinched.
He squeezed her shoulder. "Perhaps 'twould be best if you returned to your bedchamber."
She shook her head. "Nay. I am the cause of this, and I'll no' hide myself away while others fight my battle."
His chest swelled with pride. She could be fierce when the need arose. "You're no more the cause than I, lass. Remember that. We're in this fight together, understand?"
She nodded, and the goblet trembled as she lifted it to her mouth.
He returned to the others.
"I've ordered extra guards on the ramparts," Alex explained," along with some of my best archers. If and when Monro's men attack, we'll be ready."
Connor turned to Duncan. "Can we be certain he's no' waiting for his allies to join the battle?"
He thought for a moment. "The Murray guards who accompanied us on the journey will more than likely stand with them, but as for others—I'm no' certain. We will have the escort I requested my father to send in the missive. That will give us a few more men, but will they arrive in time? I dinnae ken."
Alex blew out a breath. "We should get some rest, for you ken as well as I, once the battle begins, there will be none for any of us."
KILA HAD BEEN SITTING on the window seat of her bedchamber for most of the night staring into the dark wood. She'd gone to bed earlier and tried to sleep, but to no avail, and had finally gotten up. She rose from the seat and grabbed her cloak, fastened it over her shift, then unbolted the door and peered into the corridor. Empty. She closed the door behind her and hurried to Duncan's bedchamber, then knocked.