by B. J. Scott
She tilted her head, grinning. “Why wed if I can take a tumble anytime I like, with anyone of my choosing? Besides, a woman doesna need a man to experience pleasure. If she wished, she only needs to caress herself and—”
“Damnation, Arya, where did you learn about these things?” Garrett growled.
Arya laughed. Did he think her so naïve? “I may have only seen nineteen summers, but many ladies my age are already mothers with several bairns. I’ve heard the women talking about how their husbands claimed a dalliance was such a wonderful thing. Then once they had her beneath the plaid and stole her virginity, they no longer cared about pleasing anyone but themselves.” Arya peered up at him, grinning. “Besides, how do you know I havena shared a man’s bed? I may have had several lovers.”
“Dinna taunt me when it comes to this, Arya. Not even in jest.” Garrett snaked his arm around her waist. “I laid claim to you a long time ago, and no man would dare challenge me or touch what is mine.” Before she could utter a protest, he hauled her against his chest, lowered his head, then kissed her.
Arya squeezed her eyes shut, surrendering as a heated rush of anticipation washed over her. Trying to resist was futile. She savored the brush of his lips, the rasp of his beard-stubbled chin against her cheek. She inhaled his woodsy, masculine scent, her heart hammering and her head spinning like it always did when Garrett got too close. Her breath hitched when he nipped at her lower lip, then she opened her mouth, welcoming the deep sweep of his tongue as he plundered without mercy.
Despite her aversion to marriage, she took delight in the feel of Garrett’s powerful embrace, the warmth of his breath on her skin, and the way her entire body tingled when he kissed her. Garrett’s smile could turn her world upside down in a matter of seconds, and his touch was pure magic. He sparked a fire in her blood, like a flame set to tinder, a blaze that could easily consume her body and soul. Yet, she was determined to fight her attraction to him at all cost. She had no desire to give up her freedom and become a man’s property.
“My mother is waiting for me. I must go inside.” Arya placed her hands on Garrett’s chest and shoved.
He held her tighter. “You’ll not rid yourself of me that easily. Not until we finish this conversation.”
She felt his pulsing arousal pressed against her thigh. He clearly craved more from her than she was prepared to offer, but her resolve was weakening fast, and she needed to put some distance between them, before she succumbed to temptation.
“I want you, Arya. As my wife and my lover.” Garrett fisted her hair, holding her head in place, then plundered her mouth without mercy.
She clung to his tunic, her legs suddenly weak. His free hand roamed up and down her spine, causing a shiver of excitement. But when he cupped her arse and pressed his hips into the hollow of her thighs, she slapped his face with all the force she could muster.
“Saint’s teeth, Arya. Why do you deny me when you know we are meant to be together?” He released her, then brought his hand to his cheek. “I may not be a wealthy man and currently have no land or title, but I hope to rebuild Clan MacDougall. When I do, I’ll be able to offer you the life you deserve.”
“Do you think me so shallow? I care not if you hold land or title.” She widened the gap between them. “You have no right taking such liberties. When, and if, I want a kiss, I will say so. Until then, I’ll kindly ask you to keep your hands and your mouth to yourself.”
Garrett pinched the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. “You’re a thrawn woman, Arya MacEachan. I often wonder if you are worth the trouble.”
“Then why do you pursue me so?”
“Lord only knows,” he said, scratching his head. “But you’ve cast a spell upon me, and I canna get you out of my mind. Hell, even your father thought us well suited. If he were here, he’d tell you to settle down and marry me.”
“Well, he isna here.” She quickly crossed herself and muttered a prayer. “You have no idea what my father would want, let alone what’s good for me.”
“You’re wrong. Your da and I spoke about your future at great lengths before his passing, and he made his wishes known to me on more than one occasion.” Garrett inched closer. “I promised him that once you were of age and ready to wed, I’d make you my bride.”
“You had no business discussing me with my da. He never once interfered with my life. I find it hard to believe he would do so behind my back.”
“He loved you very much and wanted you to be safe and happy.” Garrett tried to stroke his knuckles across her cheek, but she brushed his hand away.
“My father was a good and decent man, cut down in his prime. Not a day goes by that I dinna think about him and all he sacrificed for my mother and me.” She swallowed against the lump of emotion rising in her throat. While she was close to Scotia, Arya and her father were inseparable. He taught her to hunt, fish, ride, and shoot better than most men. And never once did he say that he wished she was a lad.
“There is no denying your da was a fine man, and I know how much you miss him. But if I had a daughter as wild as you, it would be my wish to see her married to a man who could not only care for her, but could tame her as well.”
Anger bubbled up from the pit of her stomach. “You are an arrogant bastard, Garrett MacDougall. If you think for one minute that you can ever control me, you are sorely mistaken. I wouldna marry you if you were the king of Scotland.” She picked up the sack containing her winnings from the ground at her feet, then raced into the hut, slamming the door behind her.
Chapter 2
“Is that you, Arya?” Scotia MacEachan asked.
Arya’s heart clenched when she heard the strain in her mother’s voice. She had always been a strong, vibrant woman, but several months of illness had taken its toll, and she grew weaker by the day.
“Aye. I’m sorry if I awakened you, Mam.” Arya stepped into the center of the dimly lit hut.
“How could I so much as close my eyes when my daughter is out doing who knows what until all hours of the night?” Scotia coughed several times, then released a shuddered breath.
“Dinna fash, you know I can take care of myself.” Arya placed the things she’d won on a small table, then went to her mother’s bedside. She pulled up a wooden stool and sat. “I am home now and well, so you can rest easy.” She lightly stroked Scotia’s brow with her fingertips.
“Aye, you’re home and smelling of whisky, sweaty horses, and fresh earth. Were you gambling again?” Her mother asked bluntly. “You know I dinna approve of the Devil’s vices. Any more than I like the idea of you dressing like a lad and going on raids with the men. It isna only wrong for a respectable lass to take part in such activities, but I fear for your life.”
Arya clasped her mother’s hand and brought it to her cheek. “I dinna mean to upset you, but you know as well as I do that since the war with England ended, and we had our land confiscated by the Bruce, it hasna been easy to procure supplies and food. The Lord of Argyll forbids us to hunt on what were once our clan’s holdings. Naught grows in barren soil filled with rocks and stones, so we are forced to do what is necessary to survive.
“Stealing is never right. If your father were alive, he wouldna condone your actions. He’d order you stop.”
“Da would understand. Why do you think he taught me to shoot a bow, wield a sword, and defend myself against a foe? He did it so I could protect myself and you.” She moved to the table and picked up her winnings. “I dinna steal this game or what is in the sack.” She dumped the contents. “I won these things fairly. I plan to make a rabbit stew on the morrow. The whisky and brooch, I hope to trade for things we need.”
“Even so, you acquired these items playing outlawed games of chance, from men you dinna know, and perhaps canna trust.” Scotia’s brow furrowed. “I must speak with Garrett. Perhaps he can talk some s
ense into you.”
“What I do is none of Garrett’s affair.”
“But he clearly cares for you. Your father and I both hoped that someday the two of you would wed.”
“You seem to forget, I am a woman grown, and capable of making decisions. I dinna want or need a man telling me what to do,” Arya said, a little more harshly than she intended. She returned to her mother’s side and sat on the edge of the bed. “I mean no disrespect, but I refuse to become any man’s property.”
“Marriage doesna have to be a bad thing. Look at your father and me. We respected each other and were very happy.”
“You and Da were the exception. The majority of men I’ve known see their women as someone they can dominate. And most wives grovel at their husband’s feet. I am not like them. Father made sure of that. Nay, married life isna for me.”
“Garrett is a good man and knows better than to try and control you. Do you not wish to have a home and bairns someday?”
“Aye, I would love to have a babe, but not if it means losing my freedom.”
“I wonder what will become of you once I am gone, and it scares me. You are constantly putting yourself in harm’s way, and deserve so much more from life.” Scotia released a heavy sigh. “I blame myself for allowing your father to be so lenient when you were a bairn. He taught you things no lass should know.”
“I loved him for it,” Arya replied, then scrubbed a tear from her cheek.
“Promise me you will stop gambling and not go on any more raids. It is my dying wish,” Scotia pleaded.
“You are not going to die. I willna allow it,” Arya replied with conviction. “With rest and some decent food, you will be hale and hardy before you know it.”
“And what of you, daughter? You are nothing more than skin and bones. When is the last time you had a proper meal?” Scotia raised a shaky hand and stroked Arya’s cheek.
“I am doing just fine.” Arya stood and smoothed her hands down the front of her tunic. “Speaking of food, I can warm some broth and fetch you a piece of bread if you’d like. There might even be a wee bit of cheese. You must be starving.”
Scotia shook her head. “I’m not hungry, but my mouth is so dry. I would appreciate something to drink.”
Arya retrieved a mug from the shelf, then filled it with ale from a clay jug on the table. She returned to the bed and lifted her mother’s head so she could drink more easily. “Sip it slowly, Mam. I dinna want you to choke.”
After Scotia drank her fill, Arya gently eased her mother’s head to the pillow, then swept a stray strand of hair from her brow. “I wish you would try to eat something.”
“Nay. I’d rather you ate it yourself or give it to the bairns. Dinna waste good food on a dying woman,” Scotia rasped, then started coughing.
Arya dabbed her mother’s lips with a square of linen. “You may not feel hungry, but you do need to eat if you wish to regain your strength.” She placed the blood-tinged fabric on the table beside the bed.
Despite her denial, Arya feared her mother’s prediction of death would soon be a reality. But she refused to give up hope. Before her father left for the battle of Bannockburn, he made her vow to take care of her mam should he not return. It was an oath she intended to keep.
“I want your word that you will think about what we have discussed. Give up your wild ways, Arya. And promise you will consider Garrett’s proposal.”
“I’ll give it some thought, if you’ll go to sleep.” Arya hated to lie to her mother, but would do or say anything at this point to get her to rest. However, what Scotia requested was too much to ask. If she stopped accompanying the men on raids, there was no guarantee she’d have enough supplies to get them through the winter. As it was, the crocks were almost empty.
Arya pressed a kiss to her mother’s brow, then covered her with a pelt. She tucked the fur around Scotia’s chin, before padding to the hearth. After adding some peat and logs onto the smoldering coals, she stirred the hot embers with an iron poker, waiting for the tinder to ignite. Chilled from her evening jaunt, she spread a plaid on the floor and laid down, her mind reeling. The men would be leaving in the next day or so on a raid of the Lord of Argyll’s holdings, and she had no intention of staying behind. She tucked her arm beneath her head and closed her eyes.
“Now is the perfect time to break into the Campbell’s stronghold,” Garrett said. “I have it on good authority that the bulk of the Lord’s men are in Oban, picking up supplies and overseeing the collection of tariffs from his land along the coast. They are not expected to return for several days. They’ve already harvested the fall crops, and slaughtered the sheep and cattle, so the larders will be full.”
“How do you know you can trust your sources?” one of the men asked.
“The man I spoke with is a former member of the MacDougall clan, and I’ve known him since we were bairns. I have no reason to mistrust him,” Garrett replied.
“How will we gain entry to the castle?” someone else asked.
“Since we have a man on the inside who will leave the door to the tunnel beneath the castle unlocked, it should not be difficult to find the village stores, collect what we need, and exit unnoticed. If we move quickly, we should be able to make off with sufficient supplies to get us through the winter and leave again without anyone knowing we were there,” Garrett replied.
“What will happen to my family should we be caught?” Another man in the group stepped forward.
“There is always a risk, but I believe it to be small and worth taking. Otherwise, how do you expect to feed your bairns once the snow flies?” Garrett turned and addressed the rest of the men. “No one is being forced to join us. If you choose to stay behind, that is entirely up to you, but only those who come along will split the spoils."
“Who will protect the women and bairns if the Campbell sends a retaliatory strike?” the first man asked.
“We are all concerned, Seamus, so I’d suggest you move them deeper into hills until this is over. That way, if we fail, your wives and wee ones will be safer.”
“The keep is a several hours ride from here,” his cousin Logan pointed out. “When do you plan to leave?”
“If we depart tonight when the sun goes down and dinna spare the horses, we will be able to slip in the keep before daybreak. Then we can—”
Logan coughed, then elbowed Garrett in the side.
“What in damnation canna wait until I have finished?” Garrett growled.
When Logan nodded in the direction of a small clearing, Garrett caught a glimpse of Arya as she approached the gathering of their kinsmen. He cursed. After promising Scotia he’d forbid her daughter to accompany them, he had hoped to get the meeting over with before she learned of it.
“Good day, gentlemen. Why was I not informed you were getting together this morning to discuss the raid on Lord Argyll’s estate?” Arya asked.
“Because it doesna concern you,” Garrett replied. “I’d suggest you go home and tend to your mother.”
Arya widened her stance and crossed her arms over her chest. “You are very much mistaken if you think for one minute I am staying behind. I have every intention of accompanying you, and may heaven help any man who tries to stop me.”
He’d expected no less from the stubborn lass. But he was determined to honor his word to Scotia, and would not let his weakness for Arya sway him. And while her skills with a blade and bow would be an asset to their mission, he was not about to tell her so. He planned to marry her someday and if anything happened to Arya when in his company, he’d never forgive himself. He had to admit, every time she joined the men on a raid, he worried about her safety. If she was too headstrong to protect herself, he’d have to do it for her.
“Nay. Your place is here, and I refuse to discuss it any further.” Garrett turned his back to he
r and focused on the men, hoping she would leave. But he should have known better than to think she would give up without an argument.
Arya planted her hand on Garrett’s shoulder and shoved, almost knocking him off his feet. “You have no right telling me what I can and canna do. Besides, I can outride and outshoot most of the men assembled here.”
“The lady speaks the truth. Her da trained her well,” Logan said, then thumped Garrett on the back. “Let her come along. She is aware of the danger, and we can use her skill as an archer should the need arise.”
“Whose side are you on, cousin?” Garrett snapped.
“I am not taking sides, but she is good with a bow, and I pity any man fool enough to face her with a sword.”
“We have enough men who are skilled with a blade and arrows. The last thing we need is a woman traipsing along,” Garrett said.
“It dinna bother you to bring her in the past. Why now?” Logan asked.
Garrett ignored his cousin’s remark. “I forbid you to go, Arya, and that is final.”
Arya glared back at him, then doubled over laughing. “You forbid me? Last I checked we were neither married nor betrothed. Therefore, what you have to say holds no credence. I suggest we let the men decide.” She scanned the crowd. “What say you, Callum?”
The former village smithy raised his hands and backed away. “Dinna get me involved in your squabble. I have enough trouble appeasing my own wife.”
“Are you a milksop or a man? Speak your mind. Tell the lass her place isna with the men,” Garrett demanded. When Callum didn’t respond, he faced Arya. “Go home and forget about this foolish notion.”
“If you refuse to let me accompany you, I will wait until you leave, then follow. So the choice is yours. Let me come, or I will go on my own. Either way, I am not being left behind.”