When a Warrior Woos a Lass
Page 2
She had not been able to decide if she was grateful or angry that she had not personally been the one to do the deed. She’d likely roast for eternity in the fires of Hell for the thoughts. But presently, while she drew breath and her memories of her time with Findlay tortured her in every waking hour—and the ones when she slept—the fires of Hell didn’t frighten her. She was already there. It was simply in the here and now, and not quite as hot as it would likely be down there. She wanted out of the devil’s realm.
“Come the rest of the way, Lena,” Alex urged, and she glanced at her hand, only then realizing it was but a hairsbreadth from his. The rasp in his voice made her stomach flutter. Clenching her teeth, she laid her hand in his open palm. His fingers closed slowly and gently around hers, and complete awareness of the power he exuded coursed through her.
A moment of panic gripped her, and she tugged her hand away, exhaling sharply with relief when he released her at once. This man would not restrain her or hurt her as her husband had done. One dance. That was all he asked of her. Besides, all four of her brothers were in the great hall, too, and they would kill any man who dared to try to harm her, even one they considered a brother, as they did Alex.
“A single dance,” she said, already breathless at the prospect of it.
Triumph flashed in his eyes, but when she blinked it was gone. “Aye,” he said, the word a caress. “I vow I’m nae such a terrible dancer that ye’ll run away screaming.”
“If only that were my biggest fear,” she muttered as he turned and led her into the revelry.
Two
Alex heard Lena’s comment, though she had spoken it so low he knew she had not intended for him to hear. She was a proud woman—an achingly beautiful, fragile one, at that—who was cloaked in secrets and a potently harmful combination of fear and rage. He wanted to help her somehow. He suspected it was because he was unable to fix himself, yet that was not the whole of it. It would be cowardly to allow himself to think so. In truth, he had permitted Bridgette to drag him across the room, insisting that he rescue Lena from hiding alone in the corner, because he was drawn to her, despite the fact that he knew he could never be good for her.
He passed each of her four brothers, their faces all reflecting shock at seeing him leading their sister into the crowd of dancers, her delicate hand in his. He was acutely aware that his own carefully hidden demons meant that this one dance was all there could be. It had been foolhardy to agree to it. Her brothers might believe he wanted more than simply to aid her, but there could not be more.
Still, he did not release her. He was greedy this night, grasping this moment of pretending he was normal and might one day take to wife a gentle creature such as Lena. A woman like she was needed a tender husband to help her heal, and his past had left him with a side to him like that of a serrated dagger. Only a woman with a certain appetite could tolerate it, and thus far, he hadn’t had any desire to wed any of those women. In the daylight, he could hide what dwelled within him, but during the night, in his bedchamber, there was no holding back the demons.
Pausing amid the crush of laughing dancers, he eased Lena toward him, intending to join the revelry, but her beauty struck him motionless, as it often did when he looked upon her. Almond-shaped eyes of a brilliant blue, like the cold waters of the loch by his home, stared at him warily. They shone bright and were stunning in contrast to her creamy skin. High, prominent cheekbones, a blade of a nose, and lips that conjured images of passionate kisses created the face he’d had many a dream about since she’d returned to the fold of her family.
Her fingers went to her hair and deftly twisted a long strand of her shiny, russet locks, and his body tightened with desire. There was no denying he wanted her, but there was also no denying he’d never have her. The cravings within him were far too dark to share with a woman like Lena, even for a single night. Besides, he had a gut-deep suspicion that a single night with her, mayhap even a single kiss, would only lead to a gnawing yearning for more.
“Why are ye staring at me?” she snipped.
He inhaled a long, deep breath to give himself time to choose his words carefully. He knew it was only defensiveness that made her sound so harsh. While many people thought her unfriendly, he saw a woman who was shamed by what had happened to her and likely feared others always thought of her past when they saw her.
He put his finger to her elbow and tilted his head, indicating that they should step out of the fray. She nodded, and once they were at the edge of the dance floor, he turned to face her. He leaned close enough that no one would hear him but not so close that he would frighten her. Immediately, her beguiling scent of heather surrounded him as he contemplated how to answer. He did not think Lena would be pleased with flowery compliments, but if given the blunt truth…
“I kinnae help but stare,” he said. “Ye are so beautiful, and ye have such a wounded air about ye that it makes me want to keep ye safe.”
Her mouth parted as a fiery blush stole over her cheeks. Mayhap his honesty had been a mistake. He swallowed hard, his mind turning with how to set her at ease before she simply walked away from him.
She pressed her lips together, but then she spoke. “Is that why ye agreed to dance with me? Out of some misguided sense that ye need to keep me safe?” Her gaze had become at once guarded and probing.
“Nay,” he replied. “The truth is, ye draw me to ye like a bee to honey.”
Her mouth parted again, and her eyes grew wide, but he did not regret his words this time. Never had he had such a truthful conversation with a woman in his life. He didn’t need to question why here and now. He’d be heading back home soon, and given the current political climate, he feared that the next time he saw her, she would be married by the king’s edict. This might be his only chance to help her reclaim a bit of the strength that had filled her as a young girl. But more importantly, he understood her pain because he held a twisted version of that same pain within himself.
He watched as she slowly unwound the hair that she’d almost knotted around her finger. “I dunnae ken what to say to that, Alex,” she whispered.
“Ye dunnae need to say a thing,” he told her. “I just wanted one dance before I left.”
“Ye’re departing for home?” The disappointment in her voice made him happier than was wise. He could not become attached to this woman, nor could he allow her to think he wanted to be.
“Aye, lass. I’ve been away too long. I need to attend to my clan, castle, and lands, and I have pressing matters that need to be discussed with the MacPherson laird.”
She quirked her eyebrows. “Such as?”
This was the moment to make her understand how it was with him. “Such as the fact that he keeps raiding my land in an effort to get me to marry his daughter and bind our clans.”
“And will ye?” she asked, looking steadily at him as if they were discussing the weather. He almost laughed aloud at how conceited he’d been. Lena was not interested in him in the least.
“I’ll nae,” he replied. “I’m nae of the mind to marry anytime soon, not to mention that I’ll nae be forced to do so by anyone.” He’d have to wed eventually for an heir, but he would delay the inevitable as long as possible.
She shuddered, and he had a notion she was recalling her own forced marriage to Findlay Campbell. “I dunnae ever wish to marry again,” she rasped.
The futileness of her wishes made him angry for her. He knew, as did her brothers, that King David would use her in marriage, and likely soon, to bind a clan that was possibly not as steadfast as he liked or mayhap even to reward someone loyal. Joining a man to her would thereby join him and his clan to the powerful MacLeods. She would have little say, though Iain would do his best to allow her some choice, but her brother had already greatly strained his relationship with the king before on her behalf. Even the greatest of leaders sometimes had to submit for the good of the entire clan.
Instead of voicing his concerns and worrying her uselessly, Alex hel
d out his hand and tilted his head toward the dancers. “Shall we?”
She stared at his hand as if it might bite her, but she took it, placing her slender fingers in his again. The contact of her warm skin to his caused desire to surge through his veins. His breathing became short and uneven, and they hadn’t even begun to dance. But luckily, once they were amid the others, he did not think she would notice. The music filled his ears, but she filled the rest of his senses completely.
On the third time he spun her about, the wariness finally left her eyes, and it felt as though he’d won a match at a tournament. But when she threw back her head and a musical laugh burst forth, it was as if he’d conquered an enemy. And when a smile of pure joy tugged her lips upward and dimples showed in both her cheeks, he could have conquered a nation.
He lifted her into the air to spin her around, and as he slid her to her feet, their chests briefly brushed. She flinched, but she did not dash away as he half expected she would. Instead, she placed a shaking hand on his arm and squeezed it before releasing him. “I kinnae believe,” she whispered, her voice full of awe, “that I danced again and enjoyed it. Thank ye!”
His chest tightened almost painfully as she smiled up at him. She was perfect, no matter the scars she carried from her past. The scars made her human. It was the reminder of what she’d been through and what she deserved for her future that had him stepping back from her when what he really wanted to do was claim her mouth in a ravishing kiss. He knew where his kisses led him, and it was not somewhere he intended to take her. The lasses that ventured there with him were of a certain voracious and dark nature.
“’Tis I that should thank ye,” he finally managed to reply. “I’m honored ye allowed me the privilege of yer time.”
“Alex!” someone bellowed from his right.
He turned to see Iain, Graham, and Lachlan MacLeod gathered around their brother Cameron. Alex suspected they were about to tease the just-married Cameron about how to handle his lovely bride, Sorcha, on their wedding night, or rather, their second wedding night. The couple had been wed by a simple utterance of commitment and a joining of their bodies a sennight earlier, but when Cameron had learned that Sorcha had wanted to be married in the presence of family and friends, he had orchestrated this celebration.
Alex was loath to leave Lena, which was exactly why he forced himself to face her and say, “If ye’ll excuse me?”
Waving a hand as if shooing him along, she smiled, but the slight tremor of her lips belied the happy expression. “Ye are going to remain at the festivities, are ye nae?” he asked, suspicious that she meant to flee the moment he left her.
“Aye,” she mumbled, unmistakable reluctance filling her voice. “If I dunnae, my brothers’ wives will be cross with me.”
He laughed. It was impossible to stifle it. She looked so forlorn that one would think she was having to stay for an execution rather than a celebration. But when red splotches marred her creamy cheeks and she quickly turned from him and started away, he realized how utterly unthinking he’d just been. He’d unintentionally made her feel more uncomfortable than she likely already had.
Devil take it. He grabbed her by the elbow to stop her flight and apologize. Her entire body went rigid, and she sucked in a sharp breath. “Release me,” she hissed.
The stark terror that punctuated her words made him burn with rage at the untold horrors her late husband had perpetrated against her, leaving her so deeply fearful. If Findlay Campbell were still alive, Alex would hunt the man down like the foul beast he had been and end his life without a twinge of remorse. The urge to pull her against him, wrap his arms around her, and whisper in her ear that he was the biggest sort of fool overtook him, yet he knew she would not welcome such an embrace. He released her, and she fled without a backward glance.
He forced himself not to chase after her, though the desire to do so knotted his belly. He watched her for a moment, and then he turned to go to her brothers. Ever since he was a young lad, she had brought out an intense protective instinct in him, and he recalled telling Iain he was going to marry his sister one day. Alex hoped Iain had forgotten that remark.
Grunting, he wove in and out of the guests, his thoughts circling around and coming back to Lena each time. That need to guard her burned within him greater than ever before, along with the keen desire to claim her mouth, as well as her body. He needed to set these impossible yearnings aside. There was no greater danger to Lena’s delicate state than him, and he could not forget it for a single breath.
Alex strode across the great hall and nodded to Iain, who motioned for him to follow him out of the great hall. He did so, coming up to the four brothers as they entered the gardens where many of the guests stood chatting. On the other side of the crowd, Lena appeared on a stone path and made her way to her newest sister-in-law. As Sorcha began to talk, Lena tilted her head slightly to the right, and he smiled in relief when a happy expression came to her face.
He made himself look away from her and caught Iain staring at him. He met the man’s questioning gaze without blinking. When Iain cocked an eyebrow, Alex frowned, as if he had no notion what Iain was asking, though he suspected his friend would easily recognize the lie.
“Alex, ye’re verra quiet,” Lachlan said. “Dunnae ye have any words of wisdom for Cameron on the lasses?”
“I’ve only one bit of wisdom that’s been hard learned,” Alex said, forcing levity he didn’t feel at the moment into his tone.
“Well,” Cameron pressed, “give me this one bit of knowledge.”
Alex clapped a hand on Cameron’s shoulder. “Ye have two eyes. Keep them both on the woman ye’re wooing.”
“That’s it?” Cameron chuckled.
“Aye,” Alex replied, fighting the impulse to glance toward Lena again.
A commotion commenced at the garden entrance then, drawing his gaze to the path into the gardens. He tensed at the sight of King David striding toward them. The Scot’s plush, ruby cape billowed behind him as he walked, and the closer he came to them, the more apparent the tight, angry expression on his face became. Alex knew that expression well. It was the one David wore when something plagued him.
The king stopped in front of them, and Alex tilted his head with a murmur of, “Sire,” as did the other men.
“Ye can consider the threat on yer head expired,” the king announced to Cameron without preamble.
The pronouncement was not overly surprising since Cameron had recently delivered the killers of the king’s mistress to the king, but they were welcome words to Alex on his friend’s behalf. Cameron nodded and started to offer his thanks, but the king waved a hand for silence. Looking directly at Iain, he said, “I wish to speak with ye about Lena.” Without waiting for a response, he started away, motioning to be followed.
A distinct feeling of dread settled in Alex’s gut. The king surely couldn’t mean to use Lena already, could he?
Tension crackled in the air as Lena’s brothers moved as one to follow the king, but David stopped and faced them. “Iain and Alex only. The rest of ye are to remain here.”
Lena’s brothers exchanged quick, confused looks, and unease rippled through the air like a breeze. But at Iain’s subtle shake of his head, the younger three brothers obeyed. The king’s wish for Alex to be there shocked and perplexed him, but he wasted no time, falling into step beside Iain as he followed the king. If he could do something to aid Lena, he would, though in truth, he had no notion what that could possibly be.
Three
“I’ll nae bother mincing words,” the king said as the door to the solar closed with a soft click. King David faced Alex and Iain, who stood side by side to the right of the door. His gaze settled on Iain. “The Campbell has petitioned me to order Lena to marry his nephew, Daro—”
“Nay!” Iain bellowed, making the king’s eyes glitter with anger.
Alex had to clench his teeth not to voice his own protestation against Lena being forced to marry, once again, a r
elation of the dishonorable Campbell laird. Lena was not Alex’s sister. He had no claim or right to comment on the matter, though his throat burned with the need to do so. He swallowed the fierce yearning, and said, “I’ll wait outside while the two of ye discuss this.”
“Stay,” the king commanded. “I wish to speak with ye next and dunnae have time to waste on waiting for ye to return. I have a throne I’m fighting to keep!” he roared.
Alex and Iain exchanged a quick look of understanding. David was in a mood, and when he was like this, he was nearly impossible to reason with. Alex inclined his head in acquiescence while David paced in front of them for a moment, the soft clap of his shoes against the stone making Alex grit his teeth with mounting impatience. Finally, David paused and looked at them. His chin was set stubbornly, and his hands were clenched in fists.
“I am sensitive to the abuse yer sister suffered in her past, and how she may not wish to wed again,” the king said, his eyes locked on Iain. “But ye must ken my plight.”
When Iain simply stared at the king, David continued. “I’m certain the Campbell still plots with my nephew, the Steward, to take my throne, yet the Campbell dunnae do so overtly, which likely means he fears they dunnae have the forces to defeat me yet.” The king knifed his hand through the air. “I wish to occupy him by keeping up the pretense that I am striving to give him what he wishes.”
“And ye wish to do this by sacrificing my sister?” Iain bit out.
The king narrowed his gaze on Iain. “I have received information that two more lairds have signed my nephew’s false petition that declared I misused funds meant to pay the ransom owed to the king of England for my release. Ye ken—both of ye—” the king fastened his gaze on Alex briefly before returning it to Iain “—that though I have somewhat stopped the rebellion my illustrious nephew started and forced him to publicly vow his allegiance to me once again, it dunnae mean he has ceased his efforts. If the Steward has the support of two powerful lairds who have numerous warriors at their ready and they can convince other lairds to join them, the tide of rebellion could rise once again. I kinnae allow that.”