Claimed by the Highland Warrior

by Michelle Willingham

  Only then would Nairna want a man like himself.

  It was nearing sunset when Nairna and Marguerite reached the edge of the loch. Birds soared overhead, swooping down in search of fish. The women dismounted and let the horses graze while Nairna took the narrow path along the rocky shore. There she saw Laren’s younger girls, Adaira and Mairin, playing in the sand, decorating with seashells.

  Marguerite’s face softened when she saw the girls. Nairna introduced them, and Mairin’s eyes widened at the lady’s gown. ‘Where did you get that dress, Lady Marguerite? From the queen?’

  Marguerite smiled. ‘From my belongings. Your father allowed me to bring a few of my things with me from Cairnross.’

  A wistful smile slid over the young girl’s face. ‘I would like to have a gown like that one.’

  ‘Perhaps one day you shall,’ Marguerite said, reaching out to smooth Mairin’s hair.

  ‘Where is your mother?’ Nairna asked the girls.

  ‘She’s in the cave, working,’ Mairin answered. ‘I have to keep Adaira here when the fires are hot.’

  ‘The fires?’ Nairna sniffed the air and, sure enough, caught a whiff of smoke. ‘What is she burning?’

  ‘She’s making her glass.’ Mairin picked up a seashell and set it on top of a pile of sand.

  Making her glass? Intrigued, Nairna followed the scent until she saw a wide-mouthed cave facing the loch. Inside, she saw Laren labouring over a hot clay furnace. She was adding beechwood ash to a crucible, while another container was heating in a different part of the furnace.

  Nairna drew close, not interrupting, but she caught her breath when she saw bits of coloured glass lying upon a slab of stone. The glass was cut into intricate shapes and vivid blues and reds gleamed in the morning sun, like sapphires and rubies. It was clear that the smaller pieces were forming an intricate picture, meant for a window.

  ‘It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,’ Marguerite breathed.

  Laren jerked with surprise. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded to Nairna. ‘Has something happened?’

  Nairna ignored the question and moved closer. ‘Does Alex know that this is what you do each day?’

  Laren shook her head, her expression growing sharp. ‘And I don’t want him to know. He wouldn’t understand.’ She sent a suspicious look towards Marguerite. ‘You’re not going to tell him, are you?’

  Marguerite shook her head. ‘I would not. And I meant to thank you for giving me a place to sleep with your daughters while I await my father.’ She sent Laren a soft smile. ‘It is kind of you.’

  ‘How long have you been making this glass?’ Nairna couldn’t believe that Alex wouldn’t already know of Laren’s talent. When she looked closer, she saw the burn marks that marred Laren’s hands and forearms. It explained the gloves she always wore.

  ‘Two years,’ Laren admitted. ‘Father Nolan was apprenticed to a glassmaker who escaped from Murano, many years ago. His hands were too weak to make the glass anymore, but he taught me everything he knew.’ Her face dimmed slightly. ‘He died last winter, but under his teaching, I learned a great deal.’

  ‘Where are the pieces you’ve made?’ Nairna asked.

  Laren pointed to the back of the cave, where there were many leather-wrapped bundles. From an initial count, there seemed to be at least a dozen.

  Nairna’s mind tallied up figures and estimates, her thoughts racing. ‘Do you realise how much this could be worth to Glen Arrin?’ If they could sell the pieces to the nearby parishes, it meant wealth and prosperity for all of them.

  ‘They’re not good enough. And even if they were, Alex would never allow it.’ Laren picked up the piece of cooled glass with her gloved hands and set it upon the stone. From a leather bag she withdrew a cutting implement and began heating it over the fire.

  ‘I would think he’d be proud of this,’ Nairna said. Unable to stop her curiosity, she unwrapped one of the glass panes to reveal a circle fitted with green, crimson and blue bits of glass. ‘Why won’t you tell him?’

  A sad look transformed Laren’s expression. ‘We’ve had some…difficult times these past two years. Alex and I don’t talk often.’

  Nairna didn’t ask what had happened in their marriage. The wrenching pain on Laren’s face made her reluctant to ask. Instead, she wrapped up the glass and exchanged a glance with Marguerite.

  ‘I could arrange for these to be sold, without Alex learning of it,’ Nairna offered. It wouldn’t be difficult to find buyers interested in the glass, particularly the kirks and monasteries nearby.

  But Laren didn’t appear interested at the prospect of selling the pieces. ‘Some of them were my early attempts and I don’t think—’

  ‘They are still fine enough to sell to some of the smaller kirks,’ Nairna interrupted. ‘The larger pieces could go to a cathedral. Perhaps even to Rome.’

  Marguerite moved between them. ‘You have a talent, Lady Laren. It is a gift that should be shared with others.’

  But Laren shook her head. ‘I know that I’m a disappointment as Lady of Glen Arrin.’ Her eyes glittered with unshed tears, even as she turned her attention back to the glass. ‘Alex and I were wed for three years before he became chief.’ A softness came over her face at the memory. ‘He loved me then. And we were happy.’

  Laren’s gaze drifted to the ground. ‘I never wanted to be the wife of a leader. It terrifies me when I see them staring. I’ve heard what they say about me behind my back and I know it hurts Alex.’

  A lonely tear escaped from her blue eyes. ‘Though I might be a failure at everything else, this is something that belongs to me. It’s all I have.’ She lifted the red-hot cutting implement from the fire, as though it were a glowing weapon.

  ‘And I’ll break every last piece before I’ll let anyone take this away from me.’

  The rough outline of their house stood at the top of the ridge, nearly completed except for the roof. Bram had stayed behind to work longer than the others, needing the time alone.

  On the walk down to Glen Arrin, his thoughts were as heavy as the stones that lined the hills. He’d lifted thousands of them over the years when he’d been in captivity.

  Bram closed his eyes, stopping near Ross’s house. His shoulders were stiff from exertion, his neck aching. He envisioned Nairna working out the knots in his muscles and the image made him hunger for more than food.

  The scent of her body, the touch of her hands upon him, would be his undoing. Even now, he raged to be close to her, to merge into the comfort of her embrace.

  As he passed Ross’s house, he stopped short at the sound of dogs barking. Mingled with the noise, he heard the unmistakable yipping of puppies.

  Around the gate, he saw the animals playing and tumbling with one another. He started to walk by, but then it occurred to him that Nairna might welcome a dog of her own.

  But as he took a step towards the puppies, he heard the whimper of an older dog lagging in the shadows.

  ‘If you’re wanting a pup, you can have your choice,’ Ross offered, stepping outside, ‘or you can have the cur if you want him. He’ll probably die in a few years, but he’s not bad for herding sheep.’

  The older man opened the door wider in silent welcome. ‘Would you and Nairna like to join us for a meal this night?’

  The scent of lamb stew filled the air and Bram pushed away the hunger. ‘Thank you, but we’ll be eating with Alex and Laren.’

  He eyed the dog, a mixed breed of collie, terrier and who knew what else. The dog rose up on his haunches and trotted over. When he reached Bram’s side, the cur began sniffing his ankle.

  ‘Lift your leg on me and I’m leaving you here,’ Bram warned. In answer, the dog sat and eyed him with deep sorrowful eyes.

  He exchanged a glance with Ross, who only shrugged. ‘If it were me, I’d give Nairna one of the pups.’

  Bram agreed with him, but as soon as he moved, the dog stood up and followed him.

  When he stopped, so did th
e dog. Bram leaned down to scratch the beast’s ears and was rewarded with a lick to his hand.

  He sighed. It might not be the best form of atonement for what he’d done to Nairna last night, but it was all he could do.

  He only hoped his wife could see past the animal’s unsightly appearance to see the affection beneath the surface. ‘Come on, then, dog. Let’s find Nairna.’

  Nairna and the other women worked to prepare a meal for the men that night. Though Jenny’s hands were too old to slice meat, the woman busied herself with collecting flasks of mead and loaves of bread.

  Nairna was setting aside food for Bram, when her maid came closer and murmured, ‘Has he been good to you, my Nairna?’ A gnarled hand closed over hers, and Jenny gave it a gentle squeeze. ‘Are ye enjoying being a wife?’

  Her face must have revealed her uncertainty, even though she nodded. Jenny came closer to look at her. ‘Now, sweeting, what is it that you’re needing? He hasna hurt you, has he?’

  ‘No, but I don’t know how to be a better wife to him.’

  Jenny patted her arm. ‘Oh, surely that’s not true. Has he pleased you in bed, then?’

  Nairna glanced around and saw that both Marguerite and Laren had found excuses to move closer. Both of them were leaning in, eavesdropping.

  ‘Bram has pleased me a little,’ she admitted, ‘but I worry that he’ll be disappointed when I can’t bear him a child.’

  ‘Nonsense. You were married to an old man with old seed. This young, virile husband of yours will plant a babe in your womb soon enough. And you’ll enjoy the ploughing, see if you don’t.’

  Knowing that Laren and Marguerite were hearing every word was enough to make Nairna’s cheeks flame hotter. She wanted to have a strong marriage with Bram, one where he would look at her the way he used to, when they’d first been betrothed. And perhaps grow to love her.

  ‘But how can I please him?’ she asked. ‘I don’t know what I should do.’

  The older woman reached out and touched her cheek. ‘Sweeting, if you’re wanting to satisfy your husband in bed, there’s nothing easier.’

  Now that the other women made no effort to hide their prying, Nairna supposed there was no point in trying to whisper.

  ‘Nairna, you simply don’t know the power you hold, as a woman.’ Jenny’s wrinkled face split into a wide smile. ‘There’s not a man alive who would turn down a naked woman who asked him to make love with her.’ The old woman patted her hand again, adding, ‘You’ll bring him to his knees.’

  Marguerite and Laren leaned in, their faces fully interested, though neither would admit it.

  Jenny sent them a conspiratorial smile. ‘And there’s a great deal more I can tell you.’

  Nairna worked alongside the other women, giving orders for the trestle tables and benches to be set out for the clansmen. When she’d finished, she spied Bram walking inside the keep.

  Her husband didn’t smile, but there was an intensity in his expression that made her nervous—as if she were about to become his conquest. Her hands started shaking, and when he drew nearer, all the physical memories of last night came flooding back.

  She remembered the feeling of his firm body moving atop hers, the carnal sensation of him filling her. And when she thought of Jenny’s advice, her imagination spun off more ways of spending this night with Bram.

  The hair around Bram’s face was wet, his tunic damp as though he’d stopped to wash. The reddish scar around his throat was matched by the two bands around his wrists. Beside him trotted the homeliest excuse for a dog that she’d ever seen.

  ‘Here,’ Bram said, pointing to the dog. ‘He’s not much to look at, but he seems friendly enough.’

  ‘A dog?’ Nairna studied the animal, unsure of whether the animal was a gift or an apology, from Bram’s guarded expression.

  The animal glanced up at Bram, as though asking permission. When Bram gave a nod, the dog walked forwards and sat down, cocking his head to study her.

  Then he nudged her knees. Nairna bent down and rubbed his ears. The dog rolled onto his stomach, raising his feet into the air as if begging for affection.

  ‘Do you want him?’

  When the animal started licking at her fingers, something warmed inside her heart. She’d never had a dog that belonged entirely to her. Her brothers, yes. And though there had been many dogs in Ballaloch, never had she held any connection with them. As she rubbed at the dog’s belly, the animal arched with delight.

  ‘Ross warned me that he’s old. You might want a younger dog who won’t die in a few years.’

  Nairna shook her head. There was a calmness in the dog’s eyes, as if he would follow her anywhere she asked him to. ‘I’ll keep him.’

  ‘You’re certain?’

  She nodded, and when he started to walk away Nairna stopped him. ‘Bram, he’s a sweet dog. Thank you.’

  He gave her a slight nod and she felt her heart softening. ‘If it’s all right with you,’ she said, ‘I’ve already arranged for our meal in the grain hut.’

  She wanted to talk to him about Laren’s glass, without Alex knowing about it. But Bram stopped in place, staring at her over his shoulder. The heated look in his eyes suggested a very different reason of why they ought to be alone.

  Nairna dropped her gaze to the floor, her cheeks burning. ‘Or if you’d rather eat with Alex and the others, that’s fine. It’s no matter to me.’

  ‘I’d rather be with you,’ he said quietly.

  ‘All right. I’ll meet you there with the food.’

  After Bram had gone, she went to see Laren about the bundle of food and wine she’d arranged earlier. The dog trotted along behind her, clearly interested in the contents of the bundle from the way he sniffed at it.

  Nairna walked slowly, feeling anxious about the night ahead. Though she knew exactly what to do, it didn’t mean she was confident in herself.

  Use your mouth, Jenny had said. And especially your tongue.

  Nairna’s face blazed with colour, but she couldn’t let her embarrassment triumph over the task of seducing her husband. The more he made love to her, the greater her chances of having a bairn of her own.

  She opened the door and saw Bram standing on the far side of the hut, watching her. Nairna’s mouth went dry when he came close and shut the door behind her.

  ‘I should get the dog some water,’ she blurted out, suddenly needing the distraction of caring for the animal. ‘Go on and eat.’

  Before she could leave, Bram caught her hand. He held it, his fingers caressing the bare side of her palm. Nairna froze in place, her heart stuttering in her chest. But all her husband did was raise her hand to his mouth.

  ‘I’ll wait for you.’

  When he’d gone, Nairna took her time finding water and food for the dog, whom she’d decided to name Caen. Minutes passed, and though she was hungry, she was afraid to return to Bram.

  She would have to bare herself before him, letting him see every part of her. The thought of revealing her naked body sent prickles of nervous energy racing through her skin. The other night, there had been darkness to hide her flaws. What if he didn’t like what he saw?

  The sky threatened rain again, so she brought the dog’s food and water inside. She stroked his head, ensuring Caen had what he needed before she turned back to her husband.

  Bram was seated against one of the barley sacks. Before him lay the food she’d set aside: some baked trout that one of the men had caught in the loch earlier, along with oat cakes and a cup of mead.

  ‘Aren’t you going to eat?’ she asked.

  He leaned forwards, resting his wrists upon his knees. ‘Aye.’

  But when he reached for the oat cake, he broke it in half, handing her the other. She ate alongside him; though his appetite had improved, there was a rigid air to Bram, as though he were fighting against himself.

  She noticed the scraped skin upon his knuckles and the calluses upon his hands from the axe. ‘When did this happen?’

&
nbsp; ‘Today, when I was building our house.’ He shrugged it off, pulling his hands back. ‘It’s nothing.’

  He rose up and drew her to stand. ‘Nairna, when you said I didn’t hurt you last night, were you telling me the truth?’

  She managed a nod, but her cheeks felt feverish from the admission. Though she knew there was no reason to fear him, she involuntarily took a step back.

  Bram drew nearer until the wood of the chamber pressed up against her back. He stood a breath away from her and rested his hands upon her hips.

  ‘There are many things I want to say to you,’ he murmured. ‘But I’ve never been good with words.’

  Heated and fierce, he claimed her lips, his tongue sliding within her mouth. At the invasion, Nairna’s knees went soft. She could feel his rigid desire, but despite her fears, Bram was melting her resistance.

  His breath heated the softness of her throat and shivers overtook her body, making her more aware of him. The primal look upon her husband’s face flustered her. He looked as though he had no intention of sleeping this night and every intention of joining with her.

  Nairna swallowed hard, keeping her eyes shut tight. It was time to obey Jenny’s suggestion. After loosening the laces of the grey gown she’d worn, she lifted it away. The air was cold, but she forced herself to remove her shift until she stood naked before him.

  Bram stared at her as if he were fighting himself. His gaze moved down over her curves, but he didn’t say a word.

  She felt exposed and vulnerable, not at all comfortable with his detached manner. When she covered her breasts with her arm, he moved it away.

  ‘No. I’ve been wanting to see you in the light. Don’t ever hide yourself from me, a ghaoil.’ He led her forwards to the mattress on the ground. Nairna’s knees were shaking, but Bram lowered her down. She shut her eyes tightly, curling up onto her side.

  Behind her, the warmth of Bram’s body filled up the empty space. ‘What are you afraid of?’ he asked.

  She shook her head, for there were no coherent words to voice what she was feeling. When he cupped her cheek, she couldn’t stop the shiver. His hands moved over her body, down her waist. A warmth of unexpected desire flooded through her.