Kara moaned, and Ronan gave her a wicked grin.
“Ye may want tae press yer hand over yer mouth, witch,” he whispered. “We donnae want the servants tae hear yer screams.”
Chapter 16
As soon as Ronan woke the next morning, he wanted to take back his agreement of having Kara accompany him to see the chieftain of Clan Sudrach. He didn’t know what to expect at the meeting. What if he and his men were met with violence? To make his visit seem as neutral as possible, he was only bringing two men with him—Osgar and Luag. How could he protect her?
Kara woke just after him, giving him a smile that made her look even more lovely as she sat up. She studied his tense expression and stiffened, as if sensing his hesitation.
“Do we leave now?” she asked, slipping out of bed and covering her luscious curves with her nightdress. She turned to face him, her green eyes flashing with challenge, as if daring him to go back on his word.
Ronan’s body ached with tumult and desire as he took her in. She was a vision of loveliness, her golden hair tousled, the sleeves of her nightdress slipping to reveal the fine curve of her shoulders. He’d kissed those shoulders the night before as he’d pounded into her, burying his face in the softness of her strands. The memory made his cock harden, and he turned away from her, swallowing hard.
“Aye,” he said curtly. It would do no good to convince her to stay behind. Knowing Kara, she’d follow him anyway. “But I meant what I said Kara. Ye’re tae be silent. If ye donnae obey, I’ll have ye sent back here.”
“And I gave you my word,” Kara said, her lips tightening into a thin line. “I won’t do anything foolish. I just want to help.”
“Good,” he said, approaching her, his gaze sweeping down to the high bodice of her night dress. He already regretted what he was going to say, but if she was to come with him, it was necessary. “My first order starts with what you’re going tae wear tae this meeting.”
“And what is that?” Kara asked, giving him a wary look.
Moments later, Kara stepped out the front door of the manor wearing the gown he’d ordered Aislin to dress her in. It was a daring gown the color of crimson, the bodice cut low. A jolt of desire darted through him—along with a ripple of jealousy. He wanted the chieftain to think Kara was a low-born mistress of his, someone he didn’t care for and was merely with him to sate his lust, and she needed to dress the part.
But now he doubted his own plan as he saw just how desirable she looked in the gown. He didn’t want the chieftain—or any man—to look at his Kara, his witch, with desire in that sinful gown.
“I think I understand what the plan is,” Kara said with a sigh, adjusting her bodice as he took her hand and led her to waiting carriage. “Wait. You don’t want me to . . . seduce anyone, do you?”
The jealousy that struck him at her words hit him with such force that he yanked her against his body, not caring who was watching.
“Never,” he hissed. “Ye’re tae stay at my side, silent as a frightened animal, do ye understand? I hate that any other man gets tae gaze upon yer loveliness, but I need him tae think ye mean nothing tae me, that ye’re just a body tae warm my bed. But we both know ye’re more than that.”
It was more than he wanted to confess, but it was true. He didn’t want to think about the day when she left his side to return to her own time. Kara’s eyes flared with emotion and she nodded, looking away from him.
They were silent during the carriage ride north; Kara’s quickened breathing and clenched hands revealed her tension, tension that matched his own. He gazed out the window at the surroundings to calm himself. He rarely ventured to this part of the Highlands, spending most of his time at the castle and the lands around his manor; Eadan was the one who made lengthier trips for diplomatic talks with other clan leaders. At the thought of his cousin, uncertainty pierced him. This was the first diplomatic meeting he attended on his own. Ye can handle it, he reassured himself, though doubt clouded his mind.
Kara seemed to sense his edginess, reaching out to lace her fingers through his, giving him a reassuring smile. He returned it. He hadn’t realized how comforting her presence was until now.
The carriage soon arrived at a lone castle that stood out among the craggy, dark green hills that surrounded it.
“Wow,” Kara whispered at his side. “It looks like the lair of a villain right out of a horror movie.”
He turned to her with a puzzled frown.
“Movie?” he echoed. “Wow?”
“Wow is a term of surprise,” she said, her lips twitching. “As for the word movie . . . that requires more explanation. I’ll have to tell you later.”
A rush of warmth coursed through him at the image of Kara in his bed later, explaining some of her strange words from the future. The thought comforted him; it was something to look forward to after they took care of this unpleasant business with Clan Sudrach.
“I’m just trying to say this castle doesn’t look like it’s the home of the nicest person in the world,” Kara continued.
He returned her amused smile and followed her gaze to the castle. Castles were meant to appear foreboding; they were fortresses built to keep intruders out, but this one did seem particularly sinister. But his amusement faded as their carriage made its way to the gate house.
“Remember what I said,” he said, his expression turning firm. “Ye’re tae stay silent, and if I tell ye tae get back tae the carriage ye’ll do so.”
“I will,” she promised, giving him a firm nod.
They arrived in the small circular courtyard and stepped out, where several rough-looking clansmen greeted them. They gave him, Luag and Osgar curt nods, their appraising and lustful gazes then sweeping to Kara. He moved to stand in front of her, blocking her from their view, and their eyes glinted with annoyance as they turned, leading them down a long corridor and into a massive great hall.
In the largest chair in the center of the hall, a chair that resembled a throne, sat a tall, broad-shouldered man with cruel silver eyes and long dark hair streaked with gray. This was Tarag, chief of Clan Sudrach.
Ronan abruptly froze. Not at the sight of the man, but at the dark-haired woman who sat at his side.
It was Elspeth.
Chapter 17
Elspeth gave him a cool smile edged with defiance. A searing hot rage filled Ronan, and he clenched his fists at his sides. Damn it, had she been working with Clad Sudrach the entire time?
“Ronan of Clan Macleay,” Tarag said, his tone sharp and unfriendly, “I donnae believe I’ve met ye. I’ve met yer cousin once. Eadan. Could he not join us?”
Ronan’s gaze was still fixed on Elspeth, who evenly returned it. She shifted her eyes to Kara and stiffened.
“Ah, I see ye and Elspeth ken each other,” Tarag said, looking not at all perturbed that Ronan hadn’t answered his question, his eyes shifting back and forth between Elspeth and Ronan with sly amusement.
Ye ken we’re acquainted, ye bastard, Ronan thought. He’d been in the room for mere seconds with the man and he already hated him.
“She’s a member of Clan Macleay,” Ronan said, still leveling her with a hard stare. “She vanished from her manor and we’ve been concerned as tae her whereabouts.”
“I’m no longer the concern of Clan Macleay,” Elspeth snapped. She reached out to take Tarag’s hand. “I’m tired of yer clan treating me like a prisoner though I’ve done nothing wrong. My husband has been dead for some time; I want tae move on with my life but none in yer clan will have me. Tarag has proposed; I’m tae be his bride.”
In exchange for what? Alarm skittered through Ronan and he tried to keep his expression neutral.
“Congratulations,” he said past stiff lips. “I wish ye would have informed us before ye chose tae depart so hastily.”
“My movements were restricted. Ye never would have let me leave,” Elspeth spat.
“Elspeth—”
“Ye can address any concerns ye have about my future brid
e tae me,” Tarag interrupted, the amusement gone from his expression now. “Ye didnae answer my question. Where is the chieftain of yer clan?”
“He is away with his new bride. I’m serving as chief in his stead,” Ronan said, finally looking away from Elspeth to Tarag.
“Ah,” Tarag said. “Tae a foreign lass, I hear. A Sassenach. None in my clan would marry one not from these lands. We ken not tae trust foreigners—especially a Sassenach.”
His eyes drifted behind him, and Ronan’s dread rose as his silver eyes landed on Kara. But fury replaced his dread at the lust that filled Tarag’s eyes. Though Ronan couldn’t see Kara, he sensed her tension at Tarag’s appraisal.
“And who is this bonnie lass?”
“My mistress,” Ronan said, trying to make his tone as dismissive as possible. “Sometimes she travels with me.”
Elspeth stilled at Tarag’s side, the jealousy in her eyes plain. Disbelief struck Ronan. Is this why she’d turned to Tarag? Did she hope to gain his attention by her betrayal?
“She is bonnie,” Tarag mused, his eyes lingering on Kara. “’Tis been some time since I’ve had a lass with hair the color of sunshine. There’s no need tae be jealous, Elspeth,” he added, as Elspeth scowled.
“I’ve come here tae discuss an important matter,” Ronan said. He wanted to turn the conversation away from Kara; he didn’t know what he’d do if Tarag kept looking at her with lust in his eyes. “I wish tae offer ye and yer clan an alliance. As ye know, Clan Acheson and Clan Macleay have put their differences aside. Together, perhaps we can form a sept.”
It was an idea he’d come up with the night before; he needed a good reason for his hasty visit. He didn’t want Tarag to know of his suspicions about his clan. Offering a truce seemed the best way to glean information from the chieftain.
“I’ve never had a problem with either of yer clans,” Tarag said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Why would I need tae ally?”
“It could be tae our benefit. In case a rival clan ever wanted tae stake a claim on any of our lands. We could band together for joint protection.”
There was a long moment of silence as Tarag seemed to consider this, pressing the tips of his fingers together.
“I thank ye for yer offer,” he said finally. “But my clan is fine on its own. Unless,” he continued, a wicked smile curving his lips, his silver gaze flickering to Kara, “ye’ve something tae trade.”
The quiet fury that stirred beneath Ronan’s skin erupted. His hand flew to the hilt of his sword, as Tarag continued, "Even just a night with the golden lassie in my bed would be worth a—”
Ronan charged toward Tarag, ignoring the warning shouts of Osgar and Luag.
Tarag's guards instantly surrounded him, their hands going to the hilts of their swords. Elspeth stumbled back, her hand flying to her chest.
Osgar and Luag came to Ronan’s side, their hands going to their own swords.
Ronan took several heaving breaths to calm himself. It would be foolish to start a battle with Tarag in his own castle when he was so outnumbered. But Ronan ached to sink his blade into Tarag’s chest for even looking at Kara the way he did.
"'Tis all right."
He stiffened as Kara stepped forward with a seductive smile, and both surprise and anger roiled through him as she made her way to his side. The look she gave him said, trust me.
Panic swirled through his veins, but he remained still. What the hell are ye doing, Kara?
"Ronan can be a wee bit jealous, but he's shared me in the past. I'm a mere lassie, not worthy of such a trade for an alliance."
Ronan stood stock-still, his heart hammering. Kara’s Scottish accent was impressive—it was only slightly off, and he was grateful she’d used it instead of her natural one. That would have invited far too many questions—and suspicion.
Tarag’s eyes widened, and he barked out a laugh.
“Apologies. I thought ye were a foreign lass," he said, his eyes roaming up and down her body, filling Ronan with even more fury.
“’Tis an honest mistake. I’ll wait for ye in the carriage, Ronan. The matters ye discuss here donnae concern me.”
With a respectful bow to Tarag, Kara left the hall.
Ronan watched her go in quiet disbelief—and grudging respect. Somehow, her words had eased the tension in the room; all the men had relaxed, and some had looks of amusement in their eyes.
"Ye share that seductress?” Tarag asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'd not want tae let anyone else between her thighs. But she’s right. Even a lassie as sweet as her is not worth Clan Sudrach becoming entangled with other clans. I've no wish tae ally; my clan stands fine on its own. As such," he continued, his tone hardening as he got his feet. “I donnae appreciate ye and yer men nearly attacking me in my own castle. If ye donnae leave now . . . I cannae promise I willnae retaliate.”
"You two were about to kill each other," Kara said as their carriage raced away from the castle moments later.
Ronan sat in silence, his fingers pressed to his throbbing temple. Not only had he not gotten any information from Tarag, he’d almost started a battle in the man’s castle.
Kara had taken his silent tension for anger and defended herself as soon as he stepped into the carriage.
"I had to do something,” she continued. “I had to make it seem like I was a bottom-level mistress, someone you wouldn't mind sharing under different circumstances. Someone you didn't care for. It seemed the only way to diffuse the tension.”
"I'm not angry with ye, lass," he muttered, dropping his hand from his temple to look at her. “I’m angry with myself. I almost attacked him because of petty jealousy. I hated the way he was looking at ye. And when he mentioned having ye in his bed . . .” He trailed off, clenching his fists at the memory. “But ’tis no matter how I felt. I should’ve controlled myself. ’Tis what good leaders do.”
Kara reached out to take his hand.
“You are a good leader,” she insisted. She hesitated, before continuing, “Elspeth seemed . . . upset that we were together. She looked like she wanted to kill me. Were you lovers?”
An unmistakable flare of jealousy shone in her eyes. Ronan pulled her close into the crook of his arm.
“We kissed once, but that’s as far as it went. I suspect she wanted more, but I never felt anything for her,” he said. “Nothing like the fire that spreads through my belly whenever ye’re near, witch.”
Kara flushed, the jealousy vanishing from her eyes as she smiled.
“Do you think that’s why she joined Tarag?” she asked, her smile fading. “Because she wanted you, and—”
“No,” he said. “’Tis more than about me. I think Elspeth’s a lonely lass; she’s been lonely for some time. Many in the clan are suspicious of her; she doesnae have many companions. She likely feels no loyalty to Clan Macleay. I think Tarag offered her the attention and companionship she craves. Which is why,” he continued grimly, “I think that Tarag is behind the threats. With Elspeth at his side, he kens what our weaknesses are. ’Tis just a matter of getting proof that ’tis him.”
Kara nodded, her expression troubled. He didn’t want to tell her that he also suspected, despite Kara’s performance, that Tarag had to know by Ronan’s violent reaction to his "offer" of taking Kara, just how important Kara was to him.
It was knowledge that Tarag could use against him—and that scared Ronan more than any other threat Tarag could direct at the clan.
Chapter 18
The encounter with Tarag plagued Kara's thoughts during the journey back to the manor. There was something dark about the man, something that unsettled her to her core. She'd once written an article about a man on death row for a double murder, and she'd seen the same savage cruelty in his eyes that she'd seen in Tarag’s.
Revulsion had roiled through her when Tarag looked at her with lust. She could see a man like Tarag easily murdering anyone who got in his away, even innocent bystanders like her ancestors.
At he
r side, Ronan remained quiet for the rest of their journey, and when they arrived at the manor, he remained in the carriage, telling her he needed to head to the castle.
"I have tae tell the nobles about Tarag—I cannae take ye with me, Kara,” he added, with a look of apology. “They think ye’re just a mistress, and ’tis best they keep thinking that.”
She nodded in reluctant agreement; she was still too shaken over the Tarag encounter to protest. She stepped back, watching as the carriage rode away from the manor.
When Ronan returned hours later, he told her the nobles agreed to have Tarag and his men followed until they had proof that he was indeed behind the threats.
“And when they do have proof?” Kara asked.
“We’ll have tae fight,” Ronan said, his face tight with anxiety. “And I’ll have no choice but tae call my cousin home.”
For the first time in days they didn’t make love that night. Ronan held her as she tried to drift off to sleep, worried thoughts racing through her mind. What if they couldn’t stop Tarag before he put a plan into place, a plan that included the fire that would kill her ancestors and other innocents? What if she was already too late to stop him?
Kara hoped that Ronan’s spies would quickly find proof that Tarag and his men were behind the threats, but over the course of the next few days, Ronan told her they reported nothing out of the ordinary. Tarag, it seemed, rarely left his castle, and his men remained close to their lands, never venturing south. And the threats to Clan Macleay had ceased.
The days seemed to become stuck in a holding pattern. Ronan would leave at first light to head to the castle where he tended to matters of the castle and the clan, all the while keeping track of his men's progress with Tarag. Kara would spend her days trying to locate her family, reading every single deed in Ronan's study, along with the ones he brought back with him from the castle. But none of the deeds mentioned the names of her ancestors, and for the first time she started to wonder if Alice’s information was wrong. Perhaps her family hadn’t died in this time.
Ronan's Captive_A Scottish Time Travel Romance Page 9