Her Highland Defender

by Samantha Holt

  One more night.

  Would she come to his bed again? He pressed open the shutters and let the cool mountain air wash over his damp skin. Dark clouds hung along the ridge of the mountains, but a break in them allowed bright sunlight to dapple down and glint off the loch. He surveyed what he could see of the village from the window.

  No Ceana.

  Mayhap she was at the morning meal. Turning away, he drew on his shirt and plaid and stuffed his feet into his boots. He couldn’t go the day without knowing how she was. She’d enjoyed his company for certain. A woman like Ceana couldn’t lie, even with her body. But he itched to know if he was going to be able to taste her again this night, to hear her cries of pleasure.

  Blane made his way to the hall to find the morning meal still being laid. Ceana’s mother sat by the fire and grinned when she saw him.

  “Come here, lad.”

  He glanced at the doorway and grieved the time lost but came to a stop in front of her nonetheless.

  “Yer looking after my Ceana well, I hope.”

  “Aye.”

  Her eyes glinted with mischief. “She deserves some happiness in her life. Yer a fine, strong man and she’s a good lass. Ye’ll do well together I think.” Aileen twined her hands together and stared into the flames. “We’ll lose many men in the battle. Who knows if my husband shall return. We’ll need someone like ye.”

  “Aileen, I have my own battles to fight. I’ll no’ be staying.”

  Her grey gaze met his own. “Aye, ye men always have battles to fight. They’ll never end, ye know? There’ll always be another fight over the horizon. Will it make ye happy to fight for the rest of yer life?”

  Blane didn’t know how to answer. He’d only been thinking of one fight—the one where he took revenge against the English for what they’d done to his village. What he was going to do afterward with most of his kind dead, he knew not.

  “Mayhap ye should think not on yer next fight but on yer next victory. Ye could have that here. With my Ceana.”

  He shook his head. As much as he admired her, as much as he desired her, he hardly knew her. And he wasn’t sure he could ever be the man she needed. “I cannae have anything with Ceana. She’s a fine lass. Too fine for me, I fear.”

  “Och, why must men be so mule-headed?”

  Chuckling, he patted the back of her hand. “I know not. ‘Tis the way we are born, I suppose.” He did a quick scan of the room. Still no sign of her. “Where is Ceana?”

  “Down by the stables most likely. She’ll be helping to muck out.”

  “Do ye no’ have stable hands for that?”

  “Aye, a few, but not enough and Ceana has something to prove. A little like ye, Blane.”

  Unwilling to let the woman draw him deeper and dig into his fears more, he bid her good day and made for the stables. A light spatter of rain moved over the land, making his shirt stick to his skin as he walked.

  He had nothing to prove. The day he’d been gone from the village and returned to find most of them dead or dying had taken away any pride he had left. Now it was blood he needed.

  Drips of rain trickled down his face and into his open collar. He pulled his plaid tight around him and ducked into the shadows of the stable. Dalma was stabled at the end. He searched the gloom for Ceana and spotted her not far from his mount, shovelling old straw into a bucket. Fear made his throat squeeze tight.

  Blane strode over. “What are ye doing?” he demanded.

  She jolted and spun in his direction, sending straw everywhere. Dalma skittered a little and the knot in his throat tightened.

  “Blane, ye frightened me.”

  “I thought ye’d hear me.”

  “I couldnae while I was shovelling.” She put down the shovel and rested upon it. A hesitant smile came across her mouth. “I cannae see ye that well in here,” she said.

  “Ye shouldnae be doing this.”

  “Doing what?”

  “This.” He gestured around and folded his arms again, unsure if she even saw the movement. “Especially by Dalma.” A hand to her arm, he tried to draw her away but she fought him.

  “One of the lads caught the fever and died. They cannae do it all alone so I must help.”

  “Dalma is ornery. Have ye even seen how big she is? She could crush ye in a moment.”

  Her gaze narrowed in his direction. “Aye, I saw well enough how big she is when ye rode in on her. And I’m no’ a fool. I can hear where she is at all times. I have been living without sight my whole life, Blane. It might mean I need yer sword arm but I dinnae need ye to order me about.” Ceana looked over her shoulder in the direction of his mount and reached to rest a hand upon her flank. “She doesnae mind me.”

  His heart bounded in his chest. He waited for Dalma to turn and nip her or worse. The mount remained blessedly still but he knew what that horse was like. She’d been hard to break in and only listened to him. Many a stable hand had received a nip or a shove. But with Ceana, it could be so much worse. Her lack of sight left her so vulnerable.

  Blane snatched the shovel from her, making her gasp. Those dark spots of colour were back on her cheeks. He didn’t care. Let her be angry with him. He’d rather that than see her trampled by his own horse.

  “Go inside and eat. I’ll finish here.”

  “I’m no’ hungry.” She reached for the shovel but he moved it easily out of her way. Ceana released a huff and put both hands to her hips. “Blane, give me that.”

  “Nay. Go eat. Yer too damn scrawny.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “Ye had no complaints last eve.”

  Jaw tight, he pushed a breath through his nostrils. He suspected Ceana could be beautiful regardless of her weight but that didn’t mean he enjoyed watching her go without to attend to duties that weren’t even hers. However, the blithe retort sitting on his tongue went unsaid. A blessing, mayhap, as he suspected he’d only rile her further.

  “Och, there’s no pleasing ye.” He dropped the shovel and spun on his heel. Damn lass was getting in his head and he’d had his fill of it. Either she wanted his help or she didn’t. If she didn’t, why was he even here?

  As he stepped out of the stables, she cried out, the sound ripping at his chest. He spun and dashed over to find her on the floor. Blane glared at the horse. He should have made her leave, damn the lass.

  “Ceana.” He kneeled beside her, blood roaring in his ears. Her ankle was at an awkward angle and she whimpered when he tried to move her away from his horse. “Did Dalma hurt ye?”

  “Nay.” She sucked in a breath when he lifted her into his arms and set her down in the doorway, out of the rain but in enough light so he could inspect her. “I tripped over the shovel.”

  “Damnation,” he muttered. “I’m a fool.” He pressed up her skirt and wrapped his fingers around her bony ankle. When he coaxed her to move it, she released a sound of pain that had him cursing himself anew. “’Tis no broken. Just sprained. Ye’ll need to stay off it.”

  “How can I? I’ve too much to do.”

  “Put Kate to work. Mayhap it will stop her visiting that lad if she’s busy and tired.”

  Ceana stared at him and he knew she could see him now—or at least the outline of him. Her eyes changed when she was focusing on someone.

  “Mayhap,” she muttered.

  “There’s no harm in letting people help, Ceana.”

  “Says ye.”

  “Aye, says I. I’m only here for one more day but I’d at least be of some use to ye if ye’ll let me.”

  “I dinnae have much choice now, do I?”

  “’Tis no’ a bad sprain. Ye’ll be walking again and causing trouble in no time.”

  “Am I trouble?” she asked as he lifted her into his arms.

  “Aye, a little, wildling.” He couldn’t help grin at her sweet expression of concern. “Yer the kind of trouble I dinnae mind though.” He carried her through the rain to the entrance hall and paused to take a breath. “I hope yer mamaidh isnae still th
ere. She’ll have my head.”

  “Nonsense, she’s half in love with ye already.”

  Love. Blane’s heart did a little uncomfortable spasm in his chest. His parents had loved him, aye, but they’d passed several summers ago within sennights of each other. And he’d never really considered he’d have time to find the sort of love they’d shared. It was something that took time and patience. Two things of which he had little.

  Aileen had moved from her spot by the fire but Kate was eating her morning meal. She stood sharply and thrust her hands onto her hips when they entered. Blane groaned and braced himself for a tirade.

  Ceana’s lips quirked. “Kate?” she asked him.

  “Aye,” he replied.

  The young lass stalked over and thrust a finger at him. “What have ye done to her now?”

  “Kate, ‘twas no’ his—”

  “’Twas my fault,” he interjected, “but I’ll make this right. Will ye have some food brought up for her, yer sister’s not eaten this morn, and ye’ll need to send someone to finish cleaning out the stables.” He turned his attention to Ceana. “What else did ye need to do this day?”

  “The meals need planning and the scraps need to be taken to the pigs. Oh, and the hall is due to be cleaned today.” He turned and paused when she held up a hand. “Dinnae forget to have Claire hang out the sheets from yesterday and make some more bread.”

  Kate gaped at them for many moments. Blane waited for the inevitable eruption but instead she pointed at one of the servants and began ordering a tray of food ready for Ceana. He chuckled to himself.

  “Seems ye have a way with my sister,” Ceana said quietly.

  “I wouldnae say that.”

  Blane carried Ceana up to her bedchamber. He stepped across the threshold and in spite of everything they’d shared the previous eve, he felt as though he was setting foot on sacred ground. He hadn’t seen the inside of her bedchamber and the bold colours everywhere surprised him. Bright tapestries covered one wall but the rest were painted with swirling flowers.

  “The colours are easier for me to see,” she explained. “At least when ‘tis light in here which is not very often.”

  “Who painted this?”

  “Me.”

  He shook his head as he laid her down. “How?”

  “I told ye I’m no’ useless. ‘Tis how I see the flowers.” She indicated to one of the walls. “They are a blur of a shape on good days, much like those.”

  Unable to resist the tempting picture she made, even while injured, he sunk down onto the bed next to her. With her curls bunched on the pillow and her skirts hitched too high, he couldn’t help desire her.

  “I dinnae think yer useless.”

  “Most people do.”

  “Och, that I cannae believe. Yer people look to ye with great respect.”

  “Ye’ve no’ seen what it’s like when the men are around,” she said, bitterness tingeing her tone. “I’ve no’ been allowed to show them what I can do before.”

  “Well ye’ll have proved them wrong, will ye not?”

  “I suppose.”

  Blane skimmed a finger over the straight line of her mouth, itching to see those lips curl upward. She sucked in a breath at the touch. “Forgive me for hurting ye and for misjudging ye. In truth, I think ye more capable than any lass I’ve ever known, but it doesnae stop me from wanting to protect ye.”

  Her lips did curl then. “Everyone wants to protect me, even Kate, but I dinnae seem to mind it as much when ye do it.”

  “Is yer ankle sore?” Wrapping his fingers around her leg, he felt for any swelling but it must have been a mild sprain.

  “’Tis no’ so bad now.”

  “Stay off it for the day and see how ye are on the morrow.”

  “I’m to stay abed then?”

  He released her ankle, all too aware of how silky her skin had felt under his fingertips. “Aye.”

  Ceana drew her bottom lip under her teeth and released it. “Will ye keep me company in it later?”

  Blood rushed from his head down to his cock. Fool lass wanted him even though he’d insulted her and caused her injury. And he couldn’t deny her. What kind of man would? Here he had a beautiful, passionate woman who wanted him in her bed. Not even the entire English army could keep him from her.

  Blane leaned over and let his lips hover over her mouth. Her breathing hitched. “How could I say nay?”

  She tilted her head to get closer to him. Her lavender fragrance teased him, drew him in. He kissed the tip of her nose, then her chin and finally her lips. It was a soft, teasing kiss—a mere sample of what was to come. However, the fiery heat burning through his body begged for more.

  “I’ve brought some food.”

  He snapped his head around to see Kate in the doorway. Who knew how much she’d seen but from the mutinous pout on Kate’s lips, it was enough. In spite of having made some sort of progress with her, the lass still didn’t trust him.

  And Ceana likely trusted him too much. What a riddle these women were.

  “I’ll bid ye good day, Ceana, and I’ll come check yer ankle later.” He hoped he conveyed his promise to join her in her bed.

  “Aye. I look forward to it.”

  Blane grinned to himself. She knew well enough he planned to see to all her needs. And his own. He couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Seven

  “Ye should be ashamed of yerself,” Kate hissed while they folded the sheets outside.

  A brisk wind blew across the mountains and not even Ceana’s thick woollen mantle protected her from it. She shuddered and peered at the yellowed tops of the hills in search of riders. Not that it was likely she’d be able to see them even on a clear day like today.

  Still no sign.

  “Of what should I be ashamed?”

  “Letting that highlander into yer bed.”

  Ceana hadn’t been sure Kate knew what had happened between them. Blane had been with them for five days in total now. There was still no sign of their cousin and he’d made no mention of leaving but she awaited those dreaded words every day.

  I’m leaving.

  Leaving to fight the English. To perhaps die. Her stomach twisted.

  And every night, he’d joined her in bed, making her feel more alive than ever before.

  Though tempted to deny her sister’s accusation, Kate knew it was futile. She put the sheet in the basket and reached for another, using her fingers to find where it was hung and drawing it off.

  “I dinnae wish to speak on this with ye,” she muttered.

  Kate dumped a sheet into the basket and though Ceana might not have been able to see she’d done a poor job of it, she’d wager she would have to refold it. She wouldn’t scold her sister. That she had helped out while she’d rested her ankle for a day was quite the miracle and Kate had continued some of those duties.

  “What will the villagers think?”

  Kate exhaled slowly. “I care not what they will think.”

  That wasn’t so true but she refused to think on what they might think of her. Blane would be gone soon enough and her sharing a bed with a handsome warrior would be forgotten. She was no innocent, so why should it concern them?

  “Ye should care. They look to ye.”

  “And ye, Kate? Do ye care what they think when ye sneak off to see Fraser?”

  Her sister sucked in a startled breath. “I dinnae share his bed! Unlike ye.”

  That relieved Ceana. She hadn’t known for certain if Kate had given up her innocence to the lad. He was an outcast, forced out after stealing. In truth, their father could have done worse to him. Now he only visited to bring fish to the village. What Kate thought would happen between them, she knew not, but it could go nowhere.

  Much like she and Blane. But at least she understood that.

  “Ye spend time alone with him. ‘Tis only a matter of time before he wants to take ye into his bed. And ye know full well people think ye’ve bedded him already. Father willnae be able t
o find ye a suitable match if word of it ever reaches outside the village.”

  Kate snatched another sheet and stuffed it into the basket. “Fraser isnae the sort of man to bed a lass before marriage—unlike Blane. And I dinnae want a suitable match anyway. Why should I marry a stranger?”

  She didn’t want that sort of marriage for her sister either. Danny had been a good friend before they had married but good men were few and far between these days and alliances had to be made. Their father would likely wish to marry Kate off to another clan member to solidify their strength in numbers.

  “Pray tell me ye dinnae have hopes of marrying Fraser?”

  “I...He wishes to, aye.”

  A pang of sympathy jabbed her. “Oh, Kate, ye know father will never accept his suit. Why should ye wish to marry a thief anyway?”

  “Och, he’s a good man. He made one mistake out of desperation and yet no one can forgive him.”

  “It doesnae matter what ye think. ‘Tis a fruitless pursuit. Ye must stay away from him, for yer own sake.”

  “Like ye’ve stayed away from Blane, ye mean?” her sister spat.

  “I’m a widow and I know naught shall come of it. Ye cannae compare our circumstances.”

  “Ye dinnae wish to ye mean.” Kate thrust her hands onto her hips and came to stand close enough so that Ceana could see the aggravation in her posture. “’Tis always one thing for ye and another for me. I’m no’ having it anymore.”

  “Kate—”

  Her sister whirled, a mass of black hair swirling about her. Ceana tried to follow after but Kate was too quick and she couldn’t possibly catch up with her cautious steps. She stopped and watched her dart down past the huts and become lost in the blur of buildings and people. She rubbed her chest as a burning sensation settled in her throat. Foolish lass. She was likely running to Fraser again. Why did her sister refuse to listen to her? What had she ever done to be so disliked?

  “Is all well?”