by Jo Barrett
“We need to fill this room with fresh air and the laird with good food, but not solids. We need to build up his strength first. Weak ale at best, no whiskey, and plenty of broth—without any of Maighread’s herbs.”
“And the leeches?” Elspeth asked tentatively.
“Good God, that too? No wonder he’s half dead.” She grumbled an apology at her choice of words. “But keep those things away from him. Don’t use them. Ever. On anyone again. Do you understand?”
“But why? They take the bad humors from the body. How can a person heal with bad humors?”
“You’re just going to have to trust me, Elspeth. All those slimy things are good for is getting rid of a bruise.”
She repressed a shudder. Leeches were one of her pet peeves. The nasty little buggers found their way into her fatigues on more than one occasion while she waded through shallow waters in the army.
“Now you go down and get a very big bowl of broth,” she said. “We’ve got to flush all that stuff out of his system so his body can begin to heal itself.”
Elspeth scurried out of the room, muttering “oh dear” beneath her breath several times.
“Don’t worry, sir. We’ll have you back on your feet in no time.” Tuck hoped.
She moved to the window, threw open the curtains and let the sunshine in. Her stomach roiling with all the chemicals she’d inhaled, she opened the window to air out the place.
Chapter Fourteen
Colin paced the battlements, irritated with the constant thought of her. He tried to cast her from his mind, but repeatedly found himself thinking of her, watching her, and listening to her read.
In an effort to drive her from his mind, he spent long grueling days pouring his energies into training the men, then making quiet, fairly safe raids on MacKenzie farms.
Years of peace had weakened his clan’s skills and he refused to risk their lives until absolutely necessary, but they were good lads and eager to strike back at the MacKenzies. He could not hold them back, so he appeased them with reiving. Yet were the MacKenzies the true enemy? Was someone trying to tear the island apart by pitting the clans against one another?
“Damn puzzles,” he growled.
A war was at hand, and he could think of nothing but a stubborn female with lips like the sweetest heaven, a voice that spoke to his soul, when she chose to use it, and wearing trews. If he didn’t regain control soon, his clan would pay for his weakness.
Time and again his mind replayed the way she’d strode into the great hall in a kilt, her long firm limbs plainly visible for the world to see. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder, storm back to her chamber, and explore every inch of her skin with his hands and lips. Madness, it was!
A light mist began to fall and he retreated inside, his determination firmly embraced. His fate was before him. He had to accept it, although he was not happy with the direction his life would take. Why had his expectations changed? Why did he find himself wishing he was not the man he was? He’d always known he would be laird one day. Why did he feel so differently about it now?
He hoped beyond hope that the answer would not have anything to do with Amelia. Aye, he could no longer think of her as Tuck, and never truly had, not when he whispered her name over and over in his dreams.
A shrewish voice echoed in the corridor answered by a deeper menacing one. He strode firmly onward, beyond his bedchamber and came to a stumbling halt before his father’s open door.
“Why don’t you find your broom and take flight,” Amelia snarled.
Maighread raised her hand to strike her across the face, but Amelia quickly snatched her arm before she could deliver the blow and spun her around. She shoved his cousin across the room straight into his arms.
Wearing a wounded look upon her face, Maighread said, “Colin, did you not see what she’s done? She tried tae kill me so she can get tae your da. I tried tae stop her, I did.”
Why Maighread ever thought she could defeat Amelia was one of those female mysteries he’d yet to decipher. Not only was she a half foot taller than his cousin, she was faster and stronger. But what was she doing in his father’s bedchamber?
He shoved Maighread to the side and entered the room, stopping before the woman who plagued his every waking thought.
“What are you doing in here?” he demanded. He gave only passing consideration to Maighread’s words, but couldn’t ignore the fact that the woman was where she didn’t belong.
Amelia propped her hands on her hips and shook her head. “You still don’t trust me. After everything that’s happened. Ian, Robby, those jerks in the dungeon. You can actually stand there and think I’d do something to hurt your father or this clan.”
He clenched his teeth against the hint of hurt in her voice, but she was right. He’d mistrusted her from the beginning, as he should, and yet over and over, she’d proven herself honorable.
He’d watched her many times from the parapet as she worked to teach Robby her odd dance amid the gardens beside the keep. The lad seemed stronger, not in muscle but in heart. He held his head high as he went about his chores, and the other children had ceased their teasing. Much could be said for her way with the lad and others who had accepted her. Nay, she was not a threat to his people.
Only to him.
“That still doesna explain why you’re in my father’s chamber,” he snarled, unable to contain his anger with himself. He wanted to snatch her up, feel her sweet firm body pressed against his as he devoured her mouth.
Her eyes narrowed and her lips pulled into a tight line. “I happen to be helping Elspeth, who happens to trust me.”
“I am the healer,” Maighread shrilled as she rushed to his side. “You have no right tae be here.”
“Be still, cousin.”
She clawed at his arm. “She is evil, I tell you. She means tae harm your da.”
Amelia poked him hard in the chest. “You let her in here to screw up the progress we’ve made, and I swear I’ll deck you,” she growled through clenched teeth then looked at Maighread. “Right after I sweep the floor with her.”
He opened his mouth, but was at a loss for words as the two women prowled around him like mad cats. How had he come to be in the middle of this feud? And how was he to bring it to an end?
His cousin shrieked, piercing his ears. “She casts her spell! Beware, Colin.”
“I’ll cast something, but it won’t be a spell,” Tuck said, reaching for Maighread.
“Leave off, the lot of you! You’re ruining my first good meal in an age.”
Colin’s heart jumped to his throat, his jaw fell lax. He’d been so distracted by the women, he’d failed to notice his father sitting up in bed eating his supper.
Slowly, he turned to where the voice, the tone, the strength he thought he’d never hear again had bellowed heartily.
“I taste your hand in this wonderful stew, Ellie,” his father said then winked at his aunt who promptly blushed. “‘Tis the finest I’ve ever tasted.”
Colin cast a quick glance back to Amelia. Her arms folded and her lips pulled up in a cocky grin. She had done this. This woman who tormented him at every turn had brought his father back from the dead.
Unable to contain his joy, he plucked her off the floor, and kissed her soundly. She squeaked at the sudden connection, and he took full advantage, slipping his tongue into her mouth. She tasted better than he remembered.
“‘Tis her witchcraft. She’s spelled him, she has,” Maighread cried shrilly.
Stunned by what he’d done, he carefully returned her to the floor. His hands glided up her arms, along her throat to her cheeks, relishing the simple pleasure in touching her. Gently cradling her face, he smiled at her dazed expression. It was one of those rare moments in which her mask fell away and all her thoughts and emotions were bared to the world. She’d enjoyed the unexpected kiss as much as he.
“You must resist her, Colin. Dinnae let her bewitch you,” Maighread demanded, tugging on his arm.
>
His thumbs danced lightly across her damp lips then he pulled away. Setting his teeth, he glared down at his cousin. “I’ve heard enough of your talk. Be off with you.”
“But Colin—”
“Out!” He shoved her toward the door, wishing he were shoving her out of the castle once and for all, but she was family. She’d tried to heal his father, and though he would not fault her in failing, he couldn’t bear to hear her disparage Amelia’s success.
Maighread ran into the corridor, her face red with rage. Perhaps if he was lucky, she would leave him be for a time.
His eyes lit on Amelia for the span of a heartbeat then he quickly stepped to his father’s bedside. “I’m pleased tae see you so well, Da,” he said. Hating the slightly tearful tone of his voice, he roughly cleared his throat.
His father looked at him with a solemn smile and clear eyes that held a bit of teasing sparkle. “I’m glad tae see you, lad. Sit and speak with me a while.”
With a nod, Colin retrieved a chair from across the room. Elspeth took Amelia by the arm and guided her to the door.
“Wait,” Colin said.
Amelia paused at the threshold and looked back at him, her mask quickly falling into place.
“Thank you,” he said with a small smile.
She nodded faintly and left.
He jerked his gaze away from where she’d disappeared, determined to put her from his mind. He had to be strong for his father and for the clan. Amelia Tucker was not a woman he could bed and easily walk away from. And he would have to, if his father still intended for him to wed Aileen.
Chapter Fifteen
Staring up at the canopy over her bed, Tuck tried to shove thoughts of MacLean and his kisses aside. It didn’t do any good to think about him, to want him. But she couldn’t stop herself.
She bolted up from the bed and paced furiously, ticking the events off on her fingers. The first kiss was a control thing. It was the only answer she could come up with. The man could barely tolerate her. She’d been in similar struggles before. This wasn’t anything new.
She paused in mid-pace. Those old power plays in the army never included kisses that made her see things in triplicate, all hazy with stars around them. He’d seemed to genuinely enjoy it as well.
A delicious shudder ran through her with the memory. “Damn, I’m a mess,” she said, slapping her hands against the far wall. She rested her forehead against her arm and absently noticed her wrist didn’t hurt any longer.
How could he want her, of all people? Why would he want her? She shook her head. Nope, it wasn’t possible. She was just trying to rationalize his kiss, make it into what she wanted.
She paused, leaning back against the cool stone. “But there was that second kiss,” she murmured, as she unwrapped her bandage.
“No, that was in thanks.” She sighed, tossing the wrappings into a chair. He was overcome with joy. Who wouldn’t be? She’d pretty much saved his father’s life. Nothing wrong with a kiss. People often hugged and kissed their doctors when there was what seemed to them to be a miracle.
Tuck pushed off from the wall and paced back to the bed. “Okay, so a thank you kiss doesn’t usually include tongue action.” But she hadn’t minded. Heck, she’d participated!
Flopping down onto the bed, she resumed her perusal of the canopy. No use in denying it, she had it bad for Colin MacLean, a man who believed women should be soft and yielding, and do what they were told. A couple of stolen kisses, a brush of his fingers against her cheek, were nothing in the scheme of things. Even if he did want her the tiniest bit, she wasn’t a highborn lady with all the proper manners and whatnot, and she absolutely refused to give him the kind of power men demanded. She would retain control of her life, her future, and her body, handsome Highlander be damned.
There was a knock at the door.
Climbing to her feet, she called, “Come in.”
“Good afternoon, dear heart,” Ian said, strolling into the room.
Tuck planted her fists on her hips. “So, you’ve finally decided to get out of bed.”
“I am much improved, thanks to your skillful hand. And since you refuse to fuss over me any longer, what choice did I have?”
She chuckled and shook her head. He’d been able to get out of bed for some time, but refused to do so. It wasn’t long before she realized Ian was using her daily visits to his room to try and convince her to train the men. And she, sadly, had been using them as an excuse to get a closer look at Colin while he worked in the lists from Ian’s window. Oh, she was definitely in deep.
“But more importantly,” Ian continued. “I’ve come to inform you that you are no longer under guard.”
Crossing her arms, she smirked. “The ogre has decided to let me off my leash? Why do I find that hard to believe?”
He smiled, his eyes bright with a roguish gleam. “Our illustrious host has had, shall we say, a change of heart.”
“Want to tell me how you pulled that one off?”
“I did not, my lady. You did by saving his father’s life. He is in your debt, as am I,” he said with a graceful bow.
Her arms fell limply by her sides. MacLean trusted her. A smile, a really big smile, built up inside her, struggling to get past the muck and mire she’d known her entire life. It blossomed slowly, and not quite fully, but it warmed her from the tips of her hiking boots to the top of her curly hair.
It wasn’t much in the way of what her heart and body kept whispering, but it was one of the best things to happen to her in a long time. Silly as it sounded, she wanted his trust and respect as much as she wanted the man. Perhaps there was a chance to have it all, to have him, without giving up control. Was it possible? Could she tone down her rather loud and often forceful opinions?
Her gaze strayed to the trunk where Elspeth had neatly folded her one and only borrowed dress. Could she be like other women he knew, be a woman he could really want?
“I see your wrist has healed,” Ian said, taking her hand.
She held her surge of hope and excitement inside as she pulled from Ian’s gentle grasp. “My wrist is fine, thank you.”
“Then shall we go for a stroll before we sup? ‘Tis a lovely evening, and I yearn to see your hair catch the sunlight before it sets.”
“Give me five and I’ll be right with you.”
His brow furrowed, but he seemed to get the general idea and backed out of the room, closing the door behind him.
With a smile Tuck rushed to the trunk, stripping along the way. After some serious huffing and puffing, she wriggled into her feminine battle gear. She even set aside her beloved hiking boots for the quaint leather slippers. Her knife, however, she would not go without and strapped it to her thigh.
She practiced walking across the room, and giggled softly. Although her feet were decidedly colder, she felt almost graceful. She ran her hand over her skirt and took a deep breath. Elspeth and Fiona were going to drop their jaws on the spot, but what would MacLean think?
Only one way to find out. She flung open the door to go in search of her handsome escort, but didn’t get far. He was patiently waiting, leaning against the wall across from her chamber door.
Ian straightened, grinning broadly. “You are the most fetching creature on the earth. I shall be most envied this eve.”
Laughing, she took his proffered arm, realizing she’d never done anything like it before. Then she’d never been treated like a woman before on such a grand scale.
“You never give up, do you? Always the ladies’ man,” she teased, but thoroughly enjoyed his comments.
“I cannot change who I am, my dear.”
Her heart headed south on an icy slide. “No. You can’t, can you?”
She kept her mouth from turning down into a scowl as they walked the battlements. A pretty dress wasn’t going to change who she was on the inside, a hardened soldier. Not a woman of the soft and yielding variety, the sort who never thought for herself. She would never be like that.
Elspeth bustled up beside her as they stepped off the stairs into the great hall. “There you are, lass. I was beginning tae worry over you.” She patted Tuck’s hand and winked. “You look lovely, dear.”
Tuck never turned away from a challenge, not when she’d set her sights on a goal, no matter how badly the odds were against her, but she fervently wished she’d gone back to her room and changed. Losing tasted bad enough without having her strategy exposed like a freshly filleted salmon.
Elspeth took her place near MacLean while Tuck and Ian followed. She lifted her gaze and found Colin watching her, appraising her, and apparently not finding her lacking. Or had he ascertained her stupid plans as well?
Tuck tilted her head and returned his intense perusal, determined not to let him see how embarrassed she was by her foolishness. As Colin’s gaze roamed over her body, thoughts of plans, strategies, and failures fled from her mind. A wonderful tingling sensation ran across her skin, and her imagination quickly slid into gear, conjuring up the feel of his rough hands and the unexpected gentleness of his touch.
Maighread stepped between them, breaking the heated connection. Tuck quickly took her seat, hoping no one had noticed her making an ass of herself. Somehow, she had to get a grip on these crazy urges. Her little war was over, she’d lost before she had a chance to really begin. It was time to move on.
An irritating whine crawled up her back like a spider. Maighread was doing her best to get back into MacLean’s good graces. Tuck could barely stomach all the purring and obvious sexual promises the woman was making. Never in her life had she indulged in a fight over a man, but she yearned to tear into the little witch. Her fingers clutched her skirts tightly beneath the table, her silent lecture on giving up quickly forgotten.
Ian cleared his throat, pulling her attention away from Maighread. His gaze was fixed on her thigh where she fondled her knife. A slightly lascivious gleam sparkled in his eye. She hadn’t realized she’d hiked her skirt high enough so she could pull it out in case she needed to use it—or wanted to use it. God, she was pathetic.