Highland Dragon

by Kimberly Killion

  Her thoughts plagued her until they reached a deep moat separating them from Cànwyck Castle. A massive drawbridge began to lower. The rattle of metal pulsed in her ear as the porters raised an iron lattice gate to allow their entrance. With every clang, Akira fretted over another reason why she couldn’t possibly become Lady MacLeod. The portcullis rose higher until she thought she might retch. She clutched Calin’s forearm and beads of sweat pooled between her breasts. If she held the reins, she would have coaxed Sirius into a pounding gallop in the opposite direction.

  “Halt! Please, m’laird. I cannae go in there.” Her voice shook with panic. “’Tis too much. Too grand. Please, just another night. I’ll be ready on the morrow to become your lady wife. I vow it.”

  “Nay. This request I am denying ye. My kin have waited for ye too long, lass, and I assure ye, they will adore ye.”

  Akira pulled on the reins and twisted in the saddle. “How can ye say that? Gordon does not adore me.”

  “Gordon doesnae like anyone.”

  “Those men who dragged me behind their horses to Tigh Diabhail showed me nay adoration.”

  “Those men will be hunted and exiled.”

  “Then name one of your kin who will adore me.”

  “Aunt Wanda. She has a pure heart, and she will see that ye do, too, even though ye hide it behind your barbs. Now, release the reins, lass, and smile.” Calin clicked his tongue and nudged Sirius over the drawbridge and through the barbican. Akira huffed then smoothed her hair and fidgeted with the pleats of her skirt. She did not smile. “I look like a hedgehog. I need a bath. I must have more time.”

  Calin leaned into her and kissed her temple. “Ye are the most beautiful hedgehog I have ever seen.”

  Her breathing increased while her hands continued to tremble, and the reassuring squeeze Calin offered her did little to ease her anxiety. “Ye must not show fear. They look to ye for strength,” he whispered into her hair. Standing before each whitewashed cottage were men, women, and children garbed in multicolored plaids pinned with the MacLeod brooch. She thought the weaver must work dawn to dusk dying all the wool for such beautiful garments. Calin halted at the base of a sloped embankment covered in the thick foliage of summer grasses. Two rows of pink-frosted primroses dabbled with bluebells bordered the worn path leading to the keep. The floral bouquet scented the air with an overwhelming sweet aroma, which explained the hum of busy bumblebees.

  Calin dismounted then lowered her to stand beside him. Two spit boys scrambled to tend to Sirius and offer greetings to his new bride. The incessant skirling of bagpipes was soon drowned out by the high-pitched screams of a brood of children racing for Akira’s skirt. Five in all, each one taller than the next, skirmished around her kirtle staring at her with anxious interest. Beneath the fighting elbows came a crop of pale blond hair that framed the sweet cherub face of a little boy with giant blue eyes. He raised his arms to Akira. “Choose me, m’lady.”

  Not caring about the propriety of her new status, she bent to lift the young boy. Before she could stop him, he stretched his chubby arms around her neck, latched his fingers together, and embraced her with an affectionate hug.

  “Welcome home, m’lady.” His sweet voice rang in her ear.

  Her heart nearly exploded from the little innocent’s greeting. Her vision blurred with tears and a lump formed in her throat. This little boy could never know how powerful his words were. She refused to cry. Instead, she unveiled the smile she was determined not to share with Calin. She turned, knowing he studied her face. He seemed to want her approval. Had he granted her another day, she may have willingly given him that approval. As it stood, she decided to be stubborn and a wee bit selfish with her merriment. But the sweetling clutching her neck made being dismal difficult. Alec, and a woman Akira guessed was Alec’s wife, Aileen, scurried after their children. Red-gold locks fell over her face when Aileen bowed. “A thousand pardons, m’lady. They dinnae know their manners.” Aileen attempted to peel the boy from Akira’s neck.

  He wouldn’t let go. Wrinkling his nose, he gave his mother a sour expression and tightened his grasp. Aileen apologized repeatedly. “Andrew, release m’lady this instant.”

  “I cannae, Mammie. I love her.”

  That did it.

  Akira laughed outright while a blush burned her face to the tips of her ears. Aileen forcefully pulled Andrew off and dropped him to his feet beside her. “Ye can love her from a distance.”

  The boy snuggled into his mother’s skirts then gave Akira a tiny wave before sticking his thumb in his mouth. The boy had far too many teeth for such a habit and Akira knew, with nary a doubt, lil’ Andrew had been coddled.

  “Forgive them, m’lady.” Aileen pleaded then lowered her eyes. “I fear our children lack discipline. Alec and I have, by far, the most ill-mannered litter within the walls o’ Cànwyck.”

  “I think they are wonderful. All of them.” She gave Aileen a gentle hug then bent to pop a kiss atop Andrew’s pug nose. She wanted very much to have a friend in this foreign place, and Aileen seemed a decent prospect.

  “Have ye anyone to help prepare ye for the ceremony, m’lady?” Aileen asked.

  “Elsbeth awaits her,” Calin informed coolly from behind her.

  Akira ground her teeth while continuing to smile at Aileen. “I am sure to need more than one maid to help prepare me.”

  Aileen eagerly hustled Andrew around her swollen abdomen to Alec’s side then accepted Akira’s extended hand. Andrew popped his thumb out and gave his father a shamed look. “Da, she is not feisty. She’s bonnie.”

  In a flush of mortification, Alec herded his bairns back into the bailey, leaving his blushing wife in Akira’s hands. If she received such warm greetings from all the kinfolk, she would settle very nicely here. She interlocked elbows with Aileen, and the women started to ascend the path to the keep.

  Calin called them to a halt. “Akira, might I have a word afore we part ways?”

  She studied him. His manner had transformed the moment they passed through the barbican. He emanated a regal bearing—dignified, authoritative and proud. Part of her sought to be the reason for that pride. She walked back to him, no longer intimidated by his size, and looked into his strong eyes. “Aye, m’laird?”

  Calin curled a loose tendril of hair behind her ear and pressed his lips to her cheek. She felt his breath in her ear. “Ye are smiling.”

  Akira stood in her wedding gown before the looking glass and didn’t recognize the person staring back at her. Three rays of golden light fluttered in through the arrow-slit windows and illuminated the yellow bodice hanging modestly off her shoulders. A chiffon cape flowed in wisps behind her back making her feel ethereal. The remainder of the gown hugged her ample curves with a French silk train trailing the floor like melted butter. Ebony braids and curls gathered into a six-pointed headdress encrusted with rubies.

  The damp scent of wildflowers permeated the chamber from her bath. Aileen and Elsbeth had catered to her every need. Not an ounce of her lacked for attention—from the floral creams used to moisturize her skin to the mint leaf placed on her tongue.Akira traced the contours of the gown over her breasts and thought the seamstress must be gifted with magic. For the first time in her entire life, she felt beautiful.

  Wishing she didn’t care, she hoped Calin would be pleased. She now wanted the alliance as much as he did and knew this wedding served a greater purpose, but a part of her wanted this day to be special. She’d saved herself for her wedding night, and she would afford herself a few dreams even if the reality of their union destroyed those dreams on the morrow. Soon enough she would be no more than a woman to bear his heirs.

  “Our laird will surely lose his heart when ye grace his vision,” Aileen said in a breathy voice. Elsbeth added the final article to Akira’s ensemble—a sash of blue and green plaid draped diagonally over her right shoulder then pinned loosely at her hip. The weaver designed the sash to match the one Calin would wear during the ceremony, a s
ymbol of their union. Elsbeth smoothed the creases. “I fear our laird has already lost his heart.”

  Akira wondered if she would ever possess a part of Calin’s heart.

  She graciously held Elsbeth’s soft hands. “Thank ye for your labors on the gown. ’Tis beautiful.”

  “What you wear, m’lady, is mere threads. It is you who makes the gown beautiful,” Elsbeth mumbled in a weak voice and lowered sheepish hazel eyes.

  Akira smiled while examining the young woman’s fragile demeanor. Unlike Aileen, who endlessly chattered, Elsbeth portrayed a more docile manner. What few words she did speak lacked any hint of the Highland burr. A tight red-gold braid fell to the middle of her back and her pristine clean garments were modest. Holding her hand, Akira noticed the bloodstains speckling her fingertips from multiple pinpricks. But what intrigued her more were the faint remnants of bruises on her wrists and forearms, and the yellow tint of an aged bruise alongside her high cheekbones. Why would such a timid woman carry such marks? And especially one with child?

  “Elsbeth, do ye stay in the keep or have ye a family?” Akira queried nonchalantly, wanting to know more about her.

  “I live outside the bailey with my husband, Ian, and my son.”

  “So ye already have one child. Ye and your husband must be excited about the arrival of your second.” A wave of excitement fluttered through her with the question as always did when discussing children. It seemed more than half the women in the clan were with child. Which didn’t surprise her. If the other men were aught like their laird, they were certain to be a randy breed. When Elsbeth didn’t return her smile, Akira knew she’d overstepped her bounds. Elsbeth really wasn’t showing to the degree anyone might notice, but Akira had seen her hand flatten over her stomach at least twice while the woman had dressed her.

  Elsbeth caressed her stomach. “I am not very far along. Ian does not yet know.”

  “I’m certain he will be overjoyed,” Akira assured her.

  “I am sure he will be…I must go. Ian waits for me.”

  While Elsbeth gathered her sewing supplies, Akira noticed her trembling. “Ye are not attending the wedding?” Her tone reflected her genuine disappointment.

  “I was called to finish the gown and prepare you, m’lady. Now I must return to my family.”

  “But I insist ye stay for the wedding.”

  “Much thanks, m’lady, but I really must decline.” Elsbeth didn’t return eye contact when she walked to the door. She paused to address Aileen, her words barely audible. “Ian needs to be the first to know that I carry his child. I would ask for your silence until then.”

  “Aye, Elsbeth. I wouldnae say aught,” Aileen offered quickly.

  Elsbeth left the chamber, closing the door behind her. Akira would seek her out and find out where those bruises came from. As Lady of Cànwyck Castle, she intended to make one of her duties to oversee the protection of the womenfolk. The power to help the women of Clan Kinnon had never been within her reach.

  That was not the case here.

  A rustling came from the corridor followed by a swift kick to the bottom of the door. Already nervous, Akira jumped. Aileen frowned, but quickly waddled to open the door. Aileen’s balled fist landed on her hips, and Akira wondered if all women struck that pose naturally. Aileen was quietly scolding whoever stood on the other side of the entranceway. Akira smiled when Andrew pushed around his mother’s skirts completely oblivious to Aileen’s tongue-lashing. He carried two satchels—one blue, one green.

  “But, Mammie, I bring gifts for—”

  “Dinnae ‘but Mammie’ me, ’tis—”

  “Aileen, let the boy speak.”

  Turning toward her, Andrew’s blue eyes slowly widened in awe and his arms fell loose to his sides. A flush of warmth washed over her cheeks from the innocent flattery. If only Calin would look at her like that, she might be less apprehensive about their marriage bed. “Have ye something for me, Andrew?”

  Andrew nodded and held out the satchels. “A bridegift. M’laird said bring ye these and dinnae leave till ye smile.” Akira took the satchels from him, after which he spread his legs, crossed his pudgy arms over his chest, and adamantly waited. The once peaceful expression on his face hardened with the duty Calin had bestowed upon him. Akira would have laughed at the boy’s pose if he didn’t appear to be taking his duty so seriously. Calin was toying with her. Of course she would smile for this little boy. Calin could be as iron-headed as she when it came to a challenge. Why was he so determined to see her happy? The man was a riddle.

  Curiosity overcame her, and she opened the first satchel.

  Her heart jumped when she withdrew a necklace. A trio of red heart-shaped rubies fixed along a gold chain. Never had she seen anything so extravagant. She considered its value and how much food could be purchased with it before realizing she would never have to worry about such things again. With the tip of her finger, she stroked the two smaller rubies suspended alongside the larger red stone.

  “Hearts united,” Aileen whispered.

  “Hearts united?” Akira echoed and raised her brows.

  “’Tis symbolic of ye and m’laird’s union,” Aileen explained. “The smaller stones represent the bride and groom.”

  Akira stared at the woman smiling like a teat-fed cat as she took the necklace and clasped it around Akira’s neck. It was heavy and cold against her skin. “And the larger stone?”

  “Represents the love ye will share after ye are wed.”

  Love. A tickle danced in her stomach at the mention of the word. She wanted that. Unfortunately, love was not forcing Calin to the altar. Duty was. She wouldn’t lose her heart on this day, regardless of Calin’s efforts.

  “Mammie, she is not happy,” Andrew interrupted from below, his frown reflecting Akira’s.

  “Then mayhap she should open the other bridegift,” Aileen suggested.

  What Akira found inside the second satchel sent her into nervous giggles. A silver flask of whisky. She was tempted to take several hearty quaffs in the hopes she would survive this wedding. Instead, she handed it back to Andrew. “Ye tell m’laird, he will have need of this gift more than I.”

  “I’ll not fail ye, m’lady.” Andrew gripped the hilt of his wooden sword hanging from his side and stomped out of the chamber.

  Aileen and Akira continued prattling for another hour until the chamber door burst open with a bang. Akira gawked in astonishment at the odd couple filling the archway. Jaime held her sister, Isobel, in his arms, and she looked as irritated as he looked happy.

  “Put me down, ye heathen.” Isobel slapped Jaime’s chest while he twirled her into the chamber. “I swear ye are a swine, Jaime MacLeod. The mon tried to kiss me the whole way here.”

  Although Isobel spoke to Akira, her stormy eyes never left Jaime’s face. He set her in a high-backed chair.

  “Why did ye not ride with Kendrick?” Akira couldn’t contain her smile. Jaime was a devil, and she didn’t have to guess why he was clean-shaven.

  “The brute insisted I ride with him.” Isobel’s flame-kissed locks fell in disarray over angry green eyes when she scowled at Jaime standing possessively overtop her.

  “But Isobel, I only wanted one wee kiss from your bonnie-fine mouth,” Jaime retorted.

  “I gave ye one wee kiss to keep ye from wagging your tongue, and ye still dinnae act a gentleman.”

  “Cause your sweet lips left me wantin’ more.”

  Isobel growled at Jaime. “The only thing ye want is a woman who cannae run from ye. As I am certain all the rest do.”

  “This is not true.” Jaime flashed his handsome smile at Isobel then planted a kiss on her lips. Isobel pushed him away. “Brute!” She then looked at Akira for the first time since entering the chamber. Her face smoothed and her lips parted, but Isobel spoke no words. Akira hadn’t seen her sister in over a month. Filled with relief to see her so healthy and full of life, Akira wanted to run and embrace her, but she froze, awaiting Isobel’s approval.r />
  “Ye look beautiful,” Isobel said, her voice breathy and full of adoration.

  Akira looked away embarrassed by the compliment. No one in her family had ever called her beautiful. Jaime followed her line of sight and crossed himself. “Dear God ’n Heaven. I have died and stand before an angel.”

  Aileen pushed Jaime toward the door. “Dearest Jaime, ye have nay hope o’ gettin’ to Heaven.”

  The women fell into a heap of giggles and then continued to converse overtop each other while they waited for the soft sounds of the fife to float into the windows. Akira was comforted by the camaraderie, but her insides were rebelling. She smiled at both Isobel and Aileen, though she had no idea what they were talking about and offered a prayer to God to bless her on this day. She prayed for her soul and stroked the large ruby hanging in the hollow of her neck. Before she could stop herself, she asked God for a tiny piece of Calin’s heart.

  “Ye look good enough to eat,” Aunt Wanda told Calin after Uncle Kerk left the candlelit chamber. She smoothed the creases of his saffron léine shirt before pinning his plaid at his right shoulder with the MacLeod brooch. He warmed with her approval, but at the same time felt like a lad of ten again preparing for Sabbath. Still, it was good to be home. His aunt’s familiar scent of cinnamon eased his nerves just as it always did.

  “Aunt Wanda, quit fawning over me. ’Tis embarrassing.” Calin stilled her hands after she brushed lint from the front of an indigo jacket Elsbeth had tailored for him months before.

  “Forgive me for wanting ye to look braw for your bride.” Tucking a dark red lock of hair back into the knot behind her head, she forced him to stand with his arms outright so she could fasten the decorated sporran to his leather belt and readjust the broadsword at his hip. “Your uncle Kerk has taken his leave, and I would like to hear more about your betrothed.”

  “Ye will like her,” he said without hesitation. “She is smart and will be good for the clan.”

  She pulled his arms back to his sides then stepped back to inspect him. “Stop talking horseshite. Of course I will like her. And I dinnae give a wit how good she’ll be for the clan. I want to know if she’ll be good for ye?”