Kill or Be Kilt

by Victoria Roberts

  Ian stood motionless, and his body stiffened in shock. He was so wrapped up with seeing Elizabeth share a kiss with Condell, the thought had never crossed his mind she didn’t desire to be in the man’s arms in the first place. His face burned with the memory, realizing it was possible that he’d misunderstood the entire situation.

  He stormed over to the tree and rammed his fist into the trunk. “A mhic an Diabhail!” Son of the Devil! Ian didn’t attempt to mask his fit of rage. Fagan had seen him before at his worst. “She is ne’er going to forgive me. ’Twas bad enough that I’ve lied. I took my leave when I should’ve protected her! What the hell is wrong with me?”

  Fagan walked to Ian’s side, pulling a piece of material out of his sporran. “Ye’re a man.” He handed Ian the cloth. “Wipe the blood from your hand and come back to court. I have nay doubt ye’ve fired Elizabeth’s ire something fierce. Fortunately for ye, I’m wed to Grace. I know how to prepare for battle, and ye’ve got a long one ahead of ye, my friend. This will be nay easy feat. If ye donna fix this the proper way, ye will lose her forever.”

  “Then what the hell are we waiting for?”

  * * *

  When Ruairi had found Elizabeth wandering the halls of court alone, she wasn’t surprised the first question he’d asked her was if something had befallen Laird Munro. Ruairi would discover that Ian had abandoned her sooner or later, but she wasn’t about to tell him what happened in the first place to make his best friend leave. After all, Ruairi was a brawny Highlander who carried a large broadsword. And she believed Mister Condell should live to see another day. She wouldn’t have him meet his maker over a kiss—although men have been killed for less.

  “And ye’re nae certain why Munro took his leave from the castle?” asked Ruairi for the hundredth time.

  “No.” She knew perfectly well why Ian had left because her vision was still gloomily colored with the memory. She was seething with mounting rage, and the safest place for the man right now was out of her sight.

  “Lady Elizabeth…”

  When Elizabeth turned, the Tullibardine sisters greeted her with a smile. “Lady Margery and Lady Gillian, I don’t believe you’ve met my brother-in-law. Pray allow me to introduce to you Laird Sutherland.”

  Lady Gillian—or it could’ve been Lady Margery—gave Ruairi a raking gaze from head to toe. “It’s our pleasure to meet you, Laird Sutherland. I can see what they say is definitely true then.”

  “And what is that, my lady?” asked Ruairi.

  Lady Gillian slapped her hands together in a giddy gesture. “Oh, I just adore your accent.” She nudged her sister in the arm. “Don’t you love his voice, Margery? It’s very becoming.” Lady Gillian gave Ruairi a wicked smile. “Highland men are so much…larger than most of our English men.”

  “Lady Gillian and Lady Margery, would you ladies like to join me in the great hall? I didn’t get a chance to eat the noon meal,” said Elizabeth, trying to remove her brother-in-law from the clutches of the Tullibardine sisters.

  “Laird Sutherland, will you join us?” asked Lady Gillian, her expression hopeful. “We’d love to have you.”

  “Nay. Thank ye, but I’m waiting for my captain. I’m sure ye’ll be in pleasant company with Lady Elizabeth.”

  Lady Gillian rubbed her fingers on Ruairi’s arm, and he stilled at the gesture. The way the woman behaved, Elizabeth wouldn’t have been surprised if Lady Gillian tried to lift his kilt in the middle of the hall.

  “I’m sorry to hear you won’t be joining us.” Lady Gillian gave Ruairi another frank and admiring look before she walked away with her sister. As Elizabeth turned, Ruairi grabbed her arm to stay her.

  “Thank ye for that.”

  “I’ll find you after the meal.”

  “Lass, be careful with them, especially the one who speaks like Grace.”

  Elizabeth was flanked at the table in the great hall with a Tullibardine sister on each side. As soon as she reached for a piece of bread, Lady Gillian cleared her throat.

  “You’re a lucky woman to have such a handsome brother-in-law, or I should say, your sister is a lucky woman to have Laird Sutherland as her husband.”

  “I’m certain my sister feels the same way,” said Elizabeth.

  “Don’t mind Gillian,” said Lady Margery. “She’ll try to bed any man with a handsome visage, Scot or not.”

  Elizabeth choked on her bread and washed it down with a sip of mulled wine.

  “You’re just jealous you’re not as beautiful as me, Margery.”

  Elizabeth gazed from left to right. “You do realize you are twins and look exactly the same.”

  “That doesn’t stop my sister from thinking she has all the looks in the family,” said Lady Margery.

  Elizabeth thought it best to change the subject before the sisters started to feud in the middle of the great hall. “I went to the theatre yesterday to see the play.”

  Lady Gillian leaned toward Elizabeth and spoke in a conspiratorial whisper. “And how was the handsome Mister Condell?”

  “He played a very convincing King Henry.” Not wanting to talk about Mister Condell for obvious reasons, she added, “I also met Mistress Alexander while I was there. She’s the woman who made the men in the play look like women. She did wonders with Queen Katherine. Don’t you agree? I never would have known the queen was a man.”

  Lady Gillian laughed. “Yes. The queen did look like a woman, and rightfully so.”

  “The last performance is in three days. There are rumors that the actors have some surprises in store for the audience too, perhaps even cannon fire,” said Elizabeth.

  “A cannon…in the theatre?” asked Lady Margery. “Do you think that’s true, Lady Elizabeth? How would they even manage such a daunting task without hitting the walls of the theatre or the people within it?”

  “I’m not certain.”

  “We’re going to attend the play with our father. He’s joining some members of the Privy Council for the final performance,” said Lady Gillian. “I find the second time I watch the actors that I catch everything I missed the first time. You should come, Lady Elizabeth. It’s sure to be an exciting evening.”

  “I’m looking forward to returning home,” said Lady Margery. “I think I’ve had enough excitement for a while.” She lowered her voice and spoke in Elizabeth’s ear. “At least there haven’t been any more deaths. I’ve been very unsettled staying here in the palace and have been making certain our door is latched every night. But I don’t know if that’s even enough to keep us secure. We’re under the same roof as the king’s guard, yet men are killed in the light of day in places like the gardens. I wonder if anyone is truly safe.”

  “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Lady Margery. The man seems to be pursuing members of the Privy Council.”

  “That’s part of the reason I’m afraid. My father is a member of the king’s council.”

  Elizabeth paled.

  * * *

  When Ruairi spotted Ian, he closed the distance between them, walking with long, purposeful strides. Without warning, he grabbed Ian by the tunic and shoved him against the wall. Neither paid any heed to the widened eyes watching them in the hall.

  “I donna care if your damn arse was afire. Ye took your leave. Ye left Elizabeth unattended. If anything would have befallen her—”

  “Tha e ceart agad.” You’ve got it right. Ian continued to speak in a solemn tone. “I should ne’er have left her. ’Twas a foolish mistake that will ne’er happen again.” Even though he could’ve easily removed himself from Ruairi’s grasp, he stood submissively before his friend, knowing he deserved whatever wrath was placed upon him.

  Ruairi held Ian firmly to the wall. “Ye’re right it will ne’er happen again. How can I give ye my blessing to woo my sister-by-marriage when your actions are undeserving of such a request?”
<
br />   Fagan patted Ruairi on the shoulder. “Fuirich mionaid. Gabh air do schocair.” Wait a minute. Take it easy. “Let him go. Munro knows naught what he does. He acts like a fool in love.”

  Ruairi may have released his grip, but Ian wasn’t able to escape the looks of death thrown his way. “Ye are my friend, Munro, but if ye ever place the lass in danger again, I will kill ye, and I will nae think twice about it.”

  Fagan pushed Ruairi back with one hand and held Ian with the other. “Now there is nay need to kill Munro. He returned to court to offer his apologies to Elizabeth.”

  “Why did he leave her in the first place?”

  “Yes, Laird Munro. Why did you leave me in the first place?”

  Ian whipped his head around as Elizabeth glared at him with burning, reproachful eyes. He couldn’t stay the sourness in the pit of his stomach. Once again, he’d managed to hurt the lass, and he was entirely at fault. When she turned away without waiting for a reply, Fagan punched him in the arm.

  “God’s teeth, Munro! Donna just stand here like a dog in the rain. Go after the lass and make amends.”

  “Was I ever this way with Ravenna?” asked Ruairi.

  “Ye’re both idiots with the lasses.”

  “I hate ye both,” said Ian.

  He ran after Elizabeth through the garden. When he caught up to her, he grasped her arm and spun her around. He had not missed her flare of temper because she threw words like stones.

  “How. Dare. You. I will never forget you—”

  Before he realized what he was about, he pushed her between two bushes and pressed her back against the garden wall. His lips crashed down upon hers, and Ian silenced her with a brutal, punishing kiss. His mouth did not become softer as he kissed her, and his tongue explored the recesses of her mouth. He pulled her roughly to him in a firm embrace. He wanted her to know what she did to him. No female had ever made him lose such control.

  At first, she tried to twist out of his hold. But then the air itself changed. Elizabeth gave in freely to the passion of his kiss.

  * * *

  Liquid fire fueled Elizabeth’s veins. Initially, she wriggled in Ian’s arms, arching her body, fighting to become free. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness for his careless actions. But he only gathered her closer, his firm hands slipping between her spine and the wall. Instinctively, she placed her fingers against the corded muscles of his chest, and that was her undoing.

  His grip tightened, and the warmth of his arms was so male, so bracing. She buried her hands in his thick hair and returned his kiss with reckless desire. Blood pounded in her brain, leapt from her heart, and made her knees tremble.

  She drew herself closer, and her desire overrode all sense of reason. She could feel the thrill of his arousal against her, and the knowledge made her feel more wanton, knowing she was the cause. Ian’s touch was purely divine.

  Without warning, he pulled back. The smoldering flame she saw in his eyes startled her.

  “Tha gaol agam ort.”

  “Heaven help me. I love you too.”

  Eighteen

  Ian held Elizabeth’s hand as they sat on a bench in the garden. As she gazed at their entwined fingers, a troubled expression crossed her face. He knew a stolen kiss wouldn’t erase his stupidity. He wasn’t sure what to do next but needed to think of something. Looming silence was not working in his favor.

  “When I saw ye in the arms of Condell, at first, I was furious. But then when I saw ye kiss, I felt betrayed.”

  “Why would you feel betrayed? Mister Condell held me so tightly against him that I couldn’t even move, let alone breathe.”

  He felt his blood starting to boil and tried to calm his racing heart. “’Tis nae a simple task for me to admit the truth, especially about this, but we promised to have nay more lies between us.” He hesitated, trying to gather the courage to speak the truth. “Condell is fair of face. When I saw your lips on his, I—”

  “You assumed that I could be easily turned by a handsome face. You did not trust me, nor did you have enough faith in yourself to recognize that I did not return Mister Condell’s favor. I love you, Ian, but I cannot spend the rest of my life convincing you that I do. You turned your back on me. You knowingly left me in the arms of another man.” She pulled her hand out of his grasp. “I was able to deter him, but do you know what would’ve happened to me if I hadn’t been able?” Her eyes met his. “I was alone with Mister Condell in Anne Boleyn’s bedchamber, and you left me.”

  Ian lowered his head.

  “Whatever happened to your hand?”

  “’Tis naught.” His thoughts hammered him. How could he ever make amends when he turned his back on the woman he loved? Once again, he met her gaze, refusing to falter. “Elizabeth, ye are a beautiful, caring lass…woman. Any man would be lucky to have your love. I need ye to understand why I behave the way that I do.”

  He closed his eyes and prayed for strength. “Fagan and Ruairi have always had a way with the lasses, even when we were lads. When they fell in love with your sisters, they already knew how to treat a lass. I’m nae proud to admit that I donna share their experience. I’ve been with lasses before but ne’er for more than a night or two. I’ve ne’er loved a woman, and I’ve ne’er been gifted with one who loved me in return.”

  As he searched Elizabeth’s face, she gestured for him to continue. “I know this sounds daft, but I donna know how to treat ye properly. How can I ask Ruairi for your hand in marriage when I donna know how to be with ye? I donna know what ye need in a husband because every time I do something, try to woo ye, everything runs awry.”

  Elizabeth graced him with a compassionate smile. “You try too hard. I’ve never asked more from you than you’re willing to give. This is why I love you, Ian. I no longer see the burly Highland laird sitting before me, but a man who is honest and true. I need you to understand that I don’t care about a handsome visage.” A strange look must have crossed his face because she quickly added, “I want you to think of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.”

  “I donna have to think. I’m looking at her.”

  She shook her head. “Listen to what I’m telling you. When you picture that pretty woman in your mind, does her image make you change the way you feel about me? Does your heart belong to her?”

  “Of course nae.”

  “You’ve just had your first lesson in understanding yourself. Yes, Mister Condell is a beautiful man. But does his handsome face change the way I feel about you? Does my heart belong to him? No. You’re the man who holds my heart. The only man who can ever make me alter my views of you is you. And if you stop acting like an arse, everything else between us will work itself out.”

  He chuckled in response.

  “I want you to keep something else in mind. Have you ever wondered why my sisters and their husbands get along so well?”

  “I donna know. I’ve pondered why Ruairi and Fagan would wed such wily lasses a time or two, especially English ones.”

  She let out a heavy sigh. “Lesson number two: you love an English woman. Stop talking about the English.”

  “Aye.”

  “The reason my sisters get along with their husbands is because they’re friends. I don’t need you to try and woo me. I want you to be yourself. When you took me to the library, the theatre, we jested between us, even though you slept most of the time. Stop thinking so much, and give me the best part of you…you. Tha ort gaol agam.”

  “Tha gaol agam ort.” As Ian corrected Elizabeth’s butchering of the Gaelic language, he smiled. “I think ’tis better if ye leave the Gaelic to me, lass.”

  “Aye,” she repeated in the same tone he had used earlier.

  “Now tell me what happened with Condell.”

  * * *

  Elizabeth shouldn’t have forgiven Ian as hastily as she had, but she wasn’t hurt, at lea
st not physically, by Mister Condell. Granted, Ian’s actions were all wrong, but once he explained the reasons why he’d thought the way he had, she had to excuse his poor behavior. He’d said the words himself. He’d never had any connection or lasting relationship with a woman. Was that truly his fault? Love was about forgiveness, and even though she’d certainly done a lot of that where Laird Munro was concerned, she recognized that she herself was far from perfect.

  As she retold Ian what had occurred with Mister Condell, choosing her words carefully, he sat as still as a statue. She depicted an ease which she didn’t necessarily feel. Now that he knew the truth, she didn’t want him confronting the man.

  “His arrogance is going to get him killed.”

  She flinched at the tone of Ian’s voice. “Mister Condell should not meet the end of your sword for a single kiss.”

  “Howbeit he took what was nae offered.”

  “And as I recall, Laird Munro, so did you only moments ago against the garden wall.”

  A roguish grin spread across his face. “Your point is verra well taken, lass, but give me your word that ye’ll stay away from Condell. Ye donna want to be encouraging his pursuits.”

  When Elizabeth tried to speak, her voice wavered. “There was one more detail that I had forgotten to mention.” She chewed on her lower lip and stole a look at him.

  “And what is that? Should I be afraid to ask?”

  “You’ll probably want to kill me once I tell you.”

  He rubbed his hand over his brow. “What did ye do?”

  “Mister Condell apologized for his behavior and did not want to part on unfavorable terms. I promised him that you and I would attend the theatre again in three days.”