He couldn’t help but wonder whether he could inspire such a miraculous thing, for he would see her smile often... if their marriage be true.
Doubt was a cloak about his shoulders.
He had remained tense all day, and felt a need to work it out with the cabers, except that there was far too much to be done to ensure his people would remain safe tonight.
Could this woman truly be a catalyst for peace?
He wanted to believe it.
Through the open door, belatedly he spied half the village lassies waiting outside Glenna’s door, and he blinked in surprise. Either Sorcha was as much a sorceress as Una, or his bride was an enchantress as well, for it seemed to him that she had won over two score or more. Ach, the way she was going, she would soon have the entire village under her spell. He decided the work must be Sorcha’s, for his youngest sister could be impetuous and full of joy. Hers was a force not to be denied—which was curious for unbeknownst to both, they shared the same blood.
“L-laird,” she stammered, seeming to start at the sight of him.
Aidan smiled grimly, for she still could not seem to say his name.
Lìli’s heart stopped.
In that moment, it seemed all others fell away and she was aware of no one but him. His presence was palpable in the little cottage. The way he was looking at her practically stole her breath away.
On purpose, she had left his plaid in his room, preferring shivers to his cloak. For these final hours, she had not wished to be reminded that she was to be his, but his gaze possessed her nonetheless.
His shoulder-length hair seemed darker in the light of Glenna’s cottage, and the breadth of his shoulders seemed to stretch the length of the room—which was perfectly ridiculous, for he was a man, not a giant.
“I dinna realize ye would be here,” she said awkwardly. “I merely wished to see Duncan.”
“These are my kinsmen,” he reminded her. “Every last woman and child are my concern.”
Outside, the tittering and chatter ceased abruptly at the deep tenor of his voice—as though suddenly guilt swept over the lot of them for having enjoyed themselves in her presence.
“Of course.”
His eyes skewered her, and she had the immediate impression that he regretted their arrangement. Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, she averted her gaze to the bed, where Duncan sat atop the covers nibbling on a slice of white cheese.
Glenna rushed to his side. “Do ye remember, Lìli?” she asked.
The boy nodded and said politely, “Thank you.”
Lìli gave the child a tentative smile. “You’re so verra welcome, Duncan. I have a son about your age,” she told him.
The boy nodded. His brown eyes were indeed the color of her son’s. “My minny said so. Will ye bring him here to live as well?”
The simple question strangled Lìli’s voice. For an instant, she could not respond. As she understood it, Kellen would never see this place, for once Aidan was dead, she would be free to leave—if his people didn’t kill her for her betrayal. She nodded nonetheless, avoiding Aidan’s gaze. “Ye would like him?” she said. “He reminds me a bit o’ ye.”
The boy smiled and took another bite of his cheese. He held up the tiny sliver that was left, showing it to her. “D’ ye see what the faeries left me?”
Sorcha marched over to the bed. “Ach! ’Tis but a sliver of auld Morag’s cheese!” the girl pointed out. “If a faerie left that, she stole it from—”
“Sorcha!” Aidan interrupted, his voice like thunder in the little room.
The room fell silent, and all eyes save Lìli’s averted to Aidan.
He stepped forward, standing so close behind Lìli that she could feel his body’s heat through her dress. “If it pleases Dunc to think so, who are we to disagree?”
Sorcha gave her brother a questioning glance and whatever silent message he gave her kept her lips sealed though her brow furrowed.
“We’ve come tae see if Glenna would like to help prepare the bride,” Cailin offered. She stepped forward, pulling her youngest sister back away from Duncan’s bedside. She bent to whisper something into Sorcha’s ear, something Lìli could not hear, which caused Sorcha to give Lìli a wary glance—the first such look from Sorcha since Lìli’s arrival. Sorcha nodded imperceptibly, and Lìli had the oddest sense they were keeping something from her then. But then again … there was likely much these people would not say until they knew her far better.
Wholly aware of the man at her back, Lìli met Glenna’s gaze. “Would ye come?”
“If ye would enjoy it,” Aidan suggested, “I’ll stay with Dunc for awhile.”
“Ach, nay! I dinna need a nursemaid!” Duncan protested. “I am already eight!”
Duncan did seem well enough, and Lìli so wanted Glenna to come along. Sorcha was young, Cailin still a bit tentative, Aveline was a mute, and Glenna was the first female friend Lìli had ever had. However, it surprised her that Aidan would offer to sit with the boy himself.
“Well,” Glenna said hesitantly. She looked toward Aidan. He nodded encouragement, and she relented, “Verra well.” She smiled then, and dashed to one corner of the cottage, retrieving a blanket and racing past Aidan. Lìli followed her out, but not before turning and sparing Aidan a final glance, but it was a mistake, for the look in his eyes made her heart skip its natural beat.
“Come now,” Sorcha demanded, seizing Lìli once more by the hand.
To Lìli’s dismay, her feet seemed not to want to move, and she nearly tumbled onto her face as Sorcha pulled her out the door.
Aidan watched them go.
In that instant while their gazes held, Aidan spied far more than he would have liked to see. He saw a lonely woman, who despite everything, craved to be accepted by his people. She might fear him, in truth, but the look in her eyes as she’d invited Glenna to come along reminded him of a little girl who had no friends.
Ach, but he was drawn to her in a way he had never been drawn to any woman before, and wanted to take her under his arm and love and protect her. But these were things he could not afford to feel.
Not yet.
Mayhap never.
He watched them go, torn between what his heart and head were saying.
Chapter Fourteen
Did they truly believe he could not see the lout standing guard?
Rogan was not stupid. He realized Lìli was weak. If he could accomplish his work for David without her, there would be no need to leave her here amongst these barbarians. He had not missed the way Aidan dún Scoti looked at her. Like all the rest, he coveted her in his bed and it rankled—more because she seemed to welcome his attention.
It gnawed at his gut to think of her lying prostrate beneath the hulking savage, purring for his cock—not that Rogan thought she had the first inkling how to please a man. She was a cold bitch. Every time he tried to embrace her, she recoiled from him, and the look on her face made his stomach roil. The bitch believed she was better than he was—she, a woman cursed, considered herself worthy of a better man! What effrontery!
But Rogan had her son... that was at least some reassurance Lìli would complete the task they had set before her. As a worst case scenario, he would leave her here to do her work as planned, though he must make certain Aveline knew her duty and continued to remind Lìli about the dangers to her son should she fail.
And yet, if he could save her the trouble... King David would no doubt thank him all the more, for despite that David was far too righteous to confess his desire to see them all dead, he would hardly mourn their loss. Had he not sanctioned this plan to begin with? Aye, and David understood precisely where that path led, no matter that he did not voice it. The King was desperate. He wanted Aidan’s tribe smitten from the face of the earth, for while they might not call themselves Scots, the Highlanders counted them among the noblest of clans, and nearly every king since Aed had tried to woo them to no avail... and then sought to see them dead when it was clear the dún Scoti woul
d never bend their knees.
Rogan contemplated that fact as he stood and watched the barbaric hoards compete with trunks of trees upside their backs, pitching them like children pissing off a cliff.
He glanced at his own men, standing near the priest—one more delicate than the next. It had been planned that way apurpose, to help set the dún Scoti chieftain at ease, for who could count a single one of these bastards to be a threat? They sickened him. And the priest was the worst of the lot, for he sat there crossing himself continuously and counting his rosary as though prayers alone could save him from the wrath of the dún Scoti.
Nay, but it would take wits not brawn to defeat dún Scoti. In his time of greatest glory, Padruig had come here like a hammer, considering himself such a force that there was no chance the dún Scoti could survive him... and yet they had. Indeed, they had thrived, which only made Rogan reconsider his tack.
His gaze reverted to the boy called Keane.
The lad stood among the competitors on the field, his shoulders puffed with the pride of youth. Until Lìli produced a child, the boy was Aidan’s heir. Mayhap that was where he should target his efforts? When the elder dún Scoti chieftain had been slain along with half his kinsmen, Aidan had survived to see them prosper.
Aye, if Lìli could do her worst here... mayhap he was better served by killing Keane, for with the lad dead, there would be none left save women to lead these mountain folk... and who the hell would follow a stupid woman?
In the distance, he spied the procession of ladies heading toward the shore of the loch and his cock stirred, for he knew Lìli would be among them.
She had already begun to work her sorcery here, it seemed, nursing some child back from the brink of death. Ach, if there was any witchery to her at all, it was that knack she had for healing. Aye, but that was yet another fortuitous affair, for it seemed there was some mysterious malady plaguing these people. Mayhap with very little effort, they would see the end of their days … with a bit of help.
His gaze returned to Aidan’s arrogant little brother.
If he could not kill Aidan himself... mayhap he could still find a way to undermine the clan...
As though the Mother of Winter herself had inspired the Highland mists, holding back the approach of wintertide yet one more day, the morning’s fog retreated into the belly of the mountain, leaving a carpet of green sprawled before a late summer sun. The sound of laughter murmured through the rowan trees and a gentle breeze shimmied the leaves.
Hope rose like a second sun, brightening the mood, and Lìli allowed herself a moment to pretend she was a bride for the first time, free of the sins of her father and her duty to the crown. It was easy to do with these joyful people.
The women led her to a secret place along the loch where the bluffs rose high alongside it, and there, cascading into a small pool, she discovered a spectacular waterfall. It was like nothing she had ever seen before, and she stood, mouth agape, marveling at the sight, while every last woman in their gathering undressed and tossed aside her gown. One by one they dove, naked, into the crystalline pool, screeching over the cold, though hardly fazed enough to keep them dry.
Lìli laughed, horrified, for she had never once in her entire life been naked under the sun—and never in the presence of so much nudity. All shapes and sizes, these women were completely devoid of modesty, it seemed.
Aveline looked at her aghast, stepping back from the edge of the pool as though she feared they might drag her in the crystal clear waters. The look on her face made Lìli giggle all the more. “I will if you will,” she challenged Aveline.
Poor Aveline shook her head vehemently, and Lìli could hardly believe she had suggested it anyway. She waffled, suddenly self-conscious about her pale complexion, for these women all had sun-kissed skin. These people clearly enjoyed their lives and did not worry overmuch about keeping their skin unstained by the sun.
From the pool, Glenna shouted up at them. “Ach! Ye havena a thing we all dinna have, ladies! Come and get yourselves clean!”
“Aidan will thank ye later!” someone shouted and laughed, the sound bawdy.
The women giggled, and Cailin splashed water at the bank toward Lìli.
“What if someone should come?” Aveline fretted.
The womenfolk squealed with laughter, frolicking in the water. Lìli peered up along the rise of the hill to see if any of the men were watching, but they were alone here by the pool. What could it hurt? In truth, they had all the same parts, and why should she be so modest when they were not? She removed her shoes and tentatively set them aside.
Aveline, who must have sensed her thoughts, appeared horrified. “God will abandon you!” she warned. “The devil will find you!”
“Ach, ’tis but water,” Lìli argued, still not quite convinced she wanted to go in. But everyone was having so much fun. In all her life, she had never been in the vicinity of so much laughter, and she envied these people their ease with one another.
“Come in!” Sorcha demanded.
Lìli found herself grinning, though she still couldn’t move her feet. She laughed, shaking her head, nibbling her lip, terribly tempted, but years of modesty kept her toes rooted in the grass. The cool damp blades felt sinfully good beneath her feet.
Mindless of the wee chill in the air, Glenna and another woman Lìli knew as Birgit both came flying naked out of the pool, their nipples puckered and their lady hairs dripping wet. They began to undress her, giving her no choice in the matter, lest she pitch a fit and refuse.
“Oh, my!” Aveline exclaimed, and her hand flew to her mouth.
Lìli shivered.
“’Tis far warmer in the water,” Sorcha promised.
In less than two minutes, Lìli was bare as the day she was begot, standing under the bright afternoon sun. She had a sudden attack of conscience, but to her dismay, her clothes went back into the loch with Glenna and Birgit, and unless she wished to don her wedding gown, or someone else’s clothing, there was no way to avoid this.
Giggling nervously, she took a running leap toward the pool and plunged within, flopping on her belly, and shrieking over the skin-numbing cold. The entire entourage laughed aloud, and so did Lìli as she came back up, spitting icy water from her lips. At once, she sank to her neck, and peered up at Aveline, who sat shivering alone upon the bank.
The raucous sound of laughter floated up over the hillside.
Aidan knew instinctively that the women were up to mischief. The rest of the men knew it as well and they immediately abandoned the cabers in the grass and started down toward the loch.
“Nay!” Aidan threw up a hand, halting them at once. He had no bloody clue why he should give a damn, but he did. Wearing a scowl the size of the ben itself, he barred their paths and waved them all back to the cabers. “Ye’ll no’ be hounding the lasses—no’ today!” he apprised them one and all. The thought of even a one of them seeing his bride unclothed left his belly sour—never mind that many of their own wives were down there as well. Aidan would have none of it, tempers be damned. If they thought they would set eyes upon his woman even before he had a chance to do so himself they were sorely mistaken.
“Awww, Aidan!” whined Keane.
Aidan pierced his brother with a warning glare.
“’Tis certain Meara is with them as well!” his brother complained.
Auld Fergus came forward and smacked Keane in the back of the head with the butt of his palm. “Ye ha'e no idea what to do with my daughter anyhoo, whelp! ’Tis nay your laird tells ye and nay it is!”
Aidan was grateful for the old warrior’s backing, for he knew good and well that he could give no plausible reason that would suit the lot of them, for his reaction was simply not rational. They were not a modest folk, and on a sunny, warm day they might all be bathing together in the loch, men and women and children alike. There was no cause for him to be up in arms. “Go on back to the cabers,” he commanded them.
With gloomy expressions—all of the
m—his men all returned to their games, casting Aidan disgruntled glances all the while the women’s laughter continued to taunt them from a distance.
For his part, Aidan could not shut out the sound. It beckoned to his curiosity and tempted him beyond reason. It surprised him that his bride seemed to have infiltrated his clan so thoroughly in such a short time. It either boded very well, or not at all.
Throughout the day, he kept an eye on their Scots guests. At the moment, they were huddled together, watching the competition with bored expressions. So he used that as his excuse for not allowing the men to celebrate with the womenfolk, ordering them to keep an eye to their backs.
Lachlann was with Duncan now. Thank God Turi and the rest were still in their positions up on the hillside. Until he sent new guards to replace them, he could rest assured that they, at least, would not lose their wits for wont of uisge or women.
But Aidan was distracted enough that he did not see Keane slip away. Nor did he notice the Scots’ numbers were reduced by one.
Chapter Fifteen
After the brisk swim, Lìli felt refreshed by the waters of the loch, her dark hair clean, wavy and free. In so many ways, the day’s festivities reminded her of a Beltane celebration, for the womenfolk blessed her as they dressed her, singing in the old tongue:
Bless thee true and bountiful,
Thee, thy spouse and bairns.
Bless all those within thy keeping:
All that was missing was a maypole, although Lìli might as well be one herself, for she was surrounded by flailing arms, hands and song:
Satisfy thy soul and shield thy loved ones,
Protect thee in truth and honor,
Bless thy land and all the vale for thy people.
They sang with abandon, while their daughters hung bits of ribbons on the hem of Lìli’s gown. For the space of the day, she could almost forget how she had come to be with these folk, for it seemed as though they had forgotten as well.
Highland Fire (Guardians of the Stone) Page 14