by Mary Wine
Brenda turned and lowered herself. “My apologies for sleeping so late.”
Alba’s lips twitched and curved into a smile. She reached for a wooden plate sitting on the table near her and pulled the linen cover from it before setting it in front of a stool.
“Travel can drain the body of strength,” Alba remarked as she turned and filled a mug with water. “Sit.”
Brenda sank onto the stool and pulled the linen square across her lap before digging into the food on the plate. On the road, there had been no opportunity for them to enjoy bread. Brenda took her time eating the chunk Alba had provided for her, even drizzling some honey on it.
But her belly had tightened up during her travels as well, and she found herself full before the plate was clean. Alba sent her a raised eyebrow.
“The fare is most excellent,” Brenda assured Alba. “Ye have been too generous.”
“Yer belly will loosen with time,” Alba answered before she turned back to the table and the bread she’d been turning.
Brenda stood as well and tucked the square of linen into her sleeve. There was always work aplenty in spring. The women in the kitchens appeared to have the food preparation in good order, so Brenda left. The first thing to do was to get an idea of how the towers were constructed so she wouldn’t have to ask where things were.
She made her way across the great hall. The benches had been placed on top of the tables now that the meal was finished, and two women were sweeping the large expanse of the floor. Brenda continued around to a side doorway and found herself on the other side of the tower. Behind her was the second tower, and the sound of the river was louder. In the distance, she could see a mill with a waterwheel turning. The sunlight glittered off the wet wood of the wheel as it turned.
As she got closer to the mill, Brenda could see the large stones that would grind grain. Right now, though, the stones were apart as two men looked at the wheel. They allowed only a little water to turn it as they inspected it. They caught sight of her, one of them telling the other who she was, but the sound of the river carried their voices away from her hearing. They both reached up and tugged on their caps before returning their attention to the wheel.
“Morning, Mistress.” Brenda turned to discover Maddox emerging from one of the exits from the tower. He reached up and tugged on the corner of his cap, but his eyes held a far more determined look. He stopped just a few paces shy of her and planted his feet wide. “There are important matters for ye to attend to inside the tower, Mistress.”
Maddox wasn’t planning on being ignored. Brenda took in the man’s stance and expression. Around them, some of the Gunn retainers had stopped what they were doing to watch. So newly out of bonds, she felt the scrutiny keenly.
“I understand ye very well, Captain,” Brenda replied.
Forcing herself to turn around was another matter, though. Brenda sealed herself against the desire to rebel. She’d learned long ago to choose the battles she engaged in wisely, doing so with an eye to whether she could win. Here in the courtyard, with the Gunn retainers all around her, well, it was a fight she wouldn’t get the upper side of.
But once she was facing the entrance to the tower, she caught sight of Leif. The man gave a nod, and Brenda knew without a doubt it was for Maddox. Leif shifted his attention to her and stepped back out of the doorway so she might pass through it.
Caged.
She should have expected as much.
But the truth was she was more disappointed than ever.
* * *
“Are ye truly hiding, Brenda?”
Looking up from the account books she’d been working on all day was something Brenda longed to do. She’d been tempted when she heard Alba ring the bells to call everyone into the hall for supper.
Bothan wasn’t going to let her ignore him, though. He blew out his breath and moved into the small chamber she’d sat in all day. Looking up became a necessity because she was so intensely aware of him. Somehow, he managed to make the chamber seem smaller just by being inside it with her.
“I am precisely where yer men put me,” Brenda informed Bothan. She took a moment to place the quill she’d been working with into a small pottery jar to keep the tip from being ruined and the wood of the desk from stains.
Bothan flattened his hands on either side of the open account book. She’d miscalculated gravely by remaining behind the desk. There was a solid wall to her back, and the only doorway was behind Bothan now.
“I told ye plainly,” Bothan stated firmly, “if ye want to run, do so. I will enjoy tracking ye down.”
“Yer men seem to have a different opinion on the matter,” she replied as she stood. Brenda kept her expression serene as she circled around the desk, intent on slipping past him. “For the moment I stepped outside the tower this morning, Maddox made it clear I was not allowed to.”
Brenda went to pass him, but he reached out and caught her wrist. The connection was like a thunderclap right above her head, so jarring every sense she had was jolted.
“I did not order him to do so.” Bothan’s tone was low.
She searched his face and found only sincerity in his eyes. Brenda drew in a breath and felt the tension that had knotted between her shoulders loosen.
A moment later Bothan tugged her forward. She gasped but collided with his hard body. He released her wrist and encircled her waist with his arm, binding her securely to his frame while he captured the back of her head with his opposite hand.
“I would rather deal with ye meself,” he informed her in a husky tone. “This is a matter between us.”
He was going to kiss her.
Brenda knew his intent by the flash of fire in his eyes. She flattened her hands on his mouth, surprising him. It gave her a moment to twist free.
But he was moving with her, intercepting her and placing his body in her path once more. She put her hands against his chest, intending to push him back, but he was moving forward, tilting his head to the side to place his mouth against hers. The contact destroyed every thought in her mind.
There was only him and the rush of pleasure his kiss unleashed in her. The hand on the back of her head held her in place so he could command the moment. He kissed her hard but not brutally, giving her a taste of his strength while refraining from bruising her mouth.
The effect was catastrophic to her senses. She felt a response gathering inside her, one she was powerless to keep from him. Kissing him back became a necessity. She rose onto her toes so she might prove to him just how much she wanted to be his equal. His chest rumbled with a male sound of approval.
It was like setting fire to dry straw.
The bright flash of light drew her closer. Placing her hands on him was the only thought in her mind, feeling him more necessary than taking her next breath. She slid her hands up his chest, smoothing over his shoulders.
A moment later, Bothan set her back from him.
It felt like they’d been ripped apart. Brenda heard her own raspy breath and the little click her teeth made when she snapped her jaw shut. He’d cupped her shoulders and straightened his arms. She caught a flash of frustration in his eyes as he held her at arms’ length.
“If Maddox frightens ye, lass, I suppose ye’ll just have to mind him,” Bothan said.
Brenda’s jaw dropped open. Bothan winked at her as he flashed one of his cocky grins at her.
“As I explained to ye when ye asked if I had a mistress,” Bothan continued, “here on Gunn land, we do nae have time to squander on niceties. I assure ye, if ye want to test me, I will handle ye very personally, no’ set me men to minding ye because I fear ye’ll take yer dowry back to yer family. I came for ye, and I will have ye, Brenda.”
He released her shoulders and took a step back, the promise in his eyes just as solid as his hold had been. “Yet the matter is between us.”
He turned and gave her a view of the longer pleats that made up the back of his kilt as he left. It was a stupid thing to notice, and yet she stood there, unable to form a decent thought while he left.
His ultimatum hung in the air, though.
Ye mean his challenge…
Was it possible Bothan understood her better than anyone else? She found herself contemplating that possibility long after he’d left. Hamell Campbell would have set his men to guarding her, of that she was certain.
Bothan had just thrown open the doors. It wasn’t that he’d dared her to go through them, no, he’d made her a solid promise to deal with her himself.
Brenda narrowed her eyes. She just might take him up on the offer.
She’d be a liar if she didn’t admit she was curious as to just what the outcome might be.
Aye, and ye’d be lying if ye did no’ admit how much a part of ye wants to lose the battle…
Brenda let out a groan born from pure frustration. The sound bounced around the room before coming right back at her.
She was cursed.
* * *
“Yet the matter is between us.”
Brenda heard Bothan’s words rise from her memory the next night when Alba rang the supper bell.
Another day with the books had her back aching and her neck knotted. But she was pleased with the way the desk was looking. When she’d arrived, there had been stacks of letters and papers that needed to be entered into the account books. Well into spring, it had all been left in favor of getting the crops into the ground. The large window in one side of the room allowed the scent of newly turned soil in to freshen the air.
“Yet the matter is between us.”
Brenda shook off her thoughts and stood. She pushed the piece of rope covered in wax into the top of the small pottery inkwell before moving out from behind the desk.
She didn’t need Bothan to come looking for her again. If the man wanted to deal with her personally, she’d be wise to make sure they had plenty of witnesses.
And she was hungry, too.
The moment she stepped into the passageway, the scent of bread filled her senses. Going without something for weeks on end certainly made it more enticing. Brenda felt her lips curve into a smile as she followed the scent toward the hall. As she got closer, the crowd of men and women talking filtered out from where the Gunn clan was gathering for their meal. There was laughter and excitement in the voices.
The sound of life.
She paused in the archway into the hall. Retainers were hurrying to take the remaining seats on the benches. Younger boys were sent back to wash if they made the mistake of arriving at the table with dirty hands and faces. They took off, sprinting for the open doors for fear of missing the beginning of the meal and having to make do with whatever was left.
The women were standing along the side of the hall, their hands already full of platters. It seemed an unruly mass of conversation, but someone cleared their throat and the noise died away almost in the same instant, proving everyone was paying attention.
A man rose at the back of the hall. His clothing didn’t set him apart, and the only notable difference was a strip of silk hung around his neck. It was placed carefully, though, displaying the embroidered symbols of faith on it. The Gunn retainers pulled their caps off as the hall became silent and still.
“Heavenly Father…” the priest began the evening blessing.
Brenda bowed her head, listening to the prayer. It wasn’t very long, just enough to get the important points covered. The priest finished, and there was a shuffling as everyone made the sign of the cross over themselves. Brenda opened her eyes to see the man pulling a round of bread in half. He handed one section to Bothan.
Bothan ripped the section of bread apart, but he looked across the hall to where she was still lingering in the archway, proving he was very much aware of her arrival. Maddox was waiting for part of the bread, but Bothan lifted one hunk up toward her.
She was instantly the center of attention. Brenda clenched her fingers into fists to keep from raising her hand to her face to smooth her hair back. She did not look her best, and it had been a long time since she’d been so conscious of the fact.
“Yer place is beside me…wife,” Bothan said.
The stillness in the hall ensured his voice carried to every corner of the room. The Gunn retainers began to nod in agreement, slapping the top of the table. Bothan remained holding the bread out. Alba had been standing beside him, ready to take the bread to be passed down the line of senior women in the hall. A symbolic representation of unity being the true strength of the clan.
Alba stepped back a pace, clearing a spot for Brenda.
It was a challenge.
Or perhaps a promise.
She might leave, but Bothan would follow her. Brenda didn’t doubt him for a moment. But what had her moving forward wasn’t fear of what he’d do; no, she picked her feet up because he’d earned the respect of his clan. Unlike many of the other clans in the Highlands, the Gunns elected their chiefs.
Brenda heard her own steps for the first few steps, and then the Gunn retainers were drowning out the sound with hard blows to the top of the tables they sat at. It rose as she closed the distance until the dishes on the tables were rattling because they were bouncing up with every strike, like a drum line announcing her arrive to the clan.
A cheer went up as she took the bread. Without a doubt, it was one of the most honest moments in her life. No fanfare or elaborate dress could have matched the sincerity of the Gunn retainers welcoming her just as she was.
* * *
“Ye understand.” Bothan announced his arrival with his words.
Brenda looked up from the knot in her hair she’d been intent on combing out. She was sitting on a simple stool, her hairpins lying on the surface of a small table set against the wall of the bedchamber for her to use as a vanity. A small addition to the sparseness of the furnishings of the bedchamber but a sure sign of the welcome Alba and her staff meant to give Brenda.
“Understand what?” Brenda asked for clarification. She lifted the comb and set the teeth into her unbound hair, drawing it down toward the ends.
Bothan’s lips twitched. “Ye understand the nature of the Gunns. There is no high ground or laird’s table. No ceremony for the sake of having people give attention to anyone who takes it into their mind to think they are above others.”
“But there is sincerity, which is far more valuable,” Brenda finished for him. “Yer home is a fine one, Bothan.”
The comb caught the snarl in her hair. Brenda eased it from the strands as Bothan’s attention shifted to her hair.
“I am trying to make it so,” Bothan told her as he came closer. “The last chief was a disgrace to the Gunn name. Sided with Bothwell and Mary Stuart in an attempt to take the King off the throne.”
Sitting on the stool became impossible. Brenda set the comb down and stood. Bothan went still, watching her to see where she’d go.
“Dougal MacPherson killed him, as I recall,” Brenda replied. “At Sutherland Castle.”
Bothan nodded. “Me men elected me because Robert had no son.”
“I doubt they would have voted for his offspring,” Brenda replied.
Bothan inclined his head. “Aye, life here is no’ about who is wearing a crown down in Edinburgh.”
“But Sutherland is yer overlord,” Brenda said as she realized she didn’t care to recall the details Hamell Campbell had presented. “Ye were elected because anyone the earl associated with yer predecessor would be someone who might bring difficulties to the Gunns.”
Brenda had pushed the topic to the back of her mind while they traveled, but Hamell Campbell was a large problem. She felt like the walls were suddenly pressing in on her.
“Hamell may have gone to Sutherland and woven a tale the earl t
hought sounded fair enough,” Bothan answered as he stepped closer. “Opposed to seeing ye wed to an Englishman, that is. Now that ye are me wife, Sutherland will rethink the matter.”
Brenda locked gazes with Bothan. Something shifted inside her. A new sensation. The need to shield him from the repercussions was strong. “Yer people are fine, Bothan, and ye do nae need the trouble that might come with me staying here. Hamell has buried another wife to have what comes with me. Do not be foolish. A wedding conducted in England will hardly satisfy him if his newly wed wife wasn’t an obstacle. Hamell is not an honorable man.”
She expected him to be frustrated by her comment. For she certainly was. Instead his lips curved up into a grin. He pointed at her.
“Ye are trying to protect me,” he declared softly. “The Gunns are a good people, and ye will be a worthy mistress for them.”
She shifted to the side, taking a step away from him as she lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “Ye think I am heartless? That I would receive kindness from yer people and yet stand idle in the face of knowing me presence here might bring harm to them?”
Bothan was watching her in that way he had that made her ultra-aware of him. With him so focused on her, she found it impossible to stand still. He watched her, following her with a slow pace that gave her time to notice how her heart had accelerated.
“Ye are no’ unmoved by me, Brenda.” He stepped after her.
Maintaining eye contact was difficult. Brenda looked away as she moved, and then she felt like she’d made a grave error in not keeping him in her sights, so she looked back to find him closer than she’d realized. She gasped, feeling her muscles tense as she prepared to jump away from him.
Bothan folded his arms around her, binding her against his body as the warm scent of his skin filled her senses.
“Invite me into yer bed,” he whispered.
Brenda didn’t lift her chin. He’d kiss her if she did. Time decided to crawl by so slowly she felt trapped in each moment because they lasted so long. Bubbles of time where she was keenly aware of the way Bothan felt.
She liked it too much.