Highlander's Faerie (Highlander Heat Book 5)

by Wadsworth, Joanne

  “Aye, though likely no’ under these circumstances.”

  “Well, one can’t always pick and choose the right time for a visit, or at least so I’ve learnt.”

  “I agree.” She smiled. “Tell me about yourself, Katherine. What is the world of the fae like?”

  “Would you believe that they actually sent me here to you?”

  “Whatever for?”

  “I’m to bring about some peace between the clans.”

  “Oh dear.” She blew out a long breath. “Then it seems you’ve been given an impossible task.”

  A knock sounded and Margaret released her. She bid the servants to enter.

  Two maids and two lads hustled forward, each carrying a steaming pail of water. Maddie returned and hung a couple of gowns in the burgundy curtained ambry, while another lass carried a tray and set it on the side table.

  Margaret oversaw the filling of the tub then added a few drops of scented oil. After the servants left, she shut the door and patted the chair in front of the table. “Come, Katherine. There’s a warm meal. You must be hungry after your journey.”

  “Very, and thank you.” She’d had little more than oatcakes and water for two days straight.” She sat and poked her nose into the steam wafting from the bowl of chunky seafood stew. “This smells delicious.” She nabbed a slice of crusty bread, dipped it, and took a hearty bite. Warmth raced to her belly. “Could you tell me exactly how you see things between the clans?”

  “Of course.” Margaret sat on the blue and gray padded corner chair next to her. “What do you wish to know in particular?”

  “Why does Lachlan fight so hard to take possession of Islay’s west?” Mary had told her Lachlan warred as he did in order to return to his clan all his father had lost, but Margaret might be able to provide more information.

  “He fights to right the wrongs of his past.” She dipped a finger under the red lace edging of her bodice and freed a gold necklace. The disk dangling from it held the engraved image of a unicorn. She rolled the piece between her thumb and forefinger. “In the short five years Lachlan’s father was chief, he gambled away his lands on Islay, but they were unfairly lost to him. ’Tis why he’s so determined to get the Rhinns back. They are his, not Angus MacDonald’s.”

  “Do you believe the king will sort all this out now that he has all three of the feuding chiefs in Edinburgh?” She sipped wine from the goblet.

  “The king wishes for my husband to enter into talks, but I know Lachlan well and he will also fight any decision the king requests if it does no’ go his way.” She crossed to the tub, knelt and swirled her hand through the water. “This is the perfect heat. Come and have your bath.”

  “I’d love one.” She shed her tunic and breeches, glad to be done with the clothing she’d worn since she’d left Islay. She stepped into the tub and sank into the water. She dunked her head, emerged and picked up the soap. She lathered and worked the vanilla scented suds gently through her hair while Margaret raised her hands toward the warmth of the fire, a wistful look on her face.

  Likely she bore the same expression. There was so much to think about. Margaret and Mary deserved some peace, as did their clans. Only how could she make a difference and bring about that peace without changing history?

  The weight of her mission bore down on her. Gently, she picked up her amulet and squeezed it tight as the fae’s words returned to her. You and your twin are two halves of one whole, the beginning and the end. You must complete what your sister has set in motion. Keep your warrior protector close. To bring peace, you must unite.

  A chilling horn shrilled outside and Margaret hurried to the window, flung the shutters open and wedged sideways out to get a better look.

  “What is it?” She splashed out of the tub, wrapped the drying cloth around her and dashed toward Margaret.

  “The alert has been raised by the point watchman. An unknown vessel approaches Duart.”

  * * * *

  John’s men rowed through the dark, sending their birlinn swiftly across the Sound of Mull toward the MacLean stronghold. Their sea crossing was almost at an end. He and Archie had followed closely in the MacLean warrior’s wake, leaving only a scant few hours after their enemy had. As they rounded the point, a horn sounded with one long and eerie blast across Duart Bay.

  “It appears our arrival has been noted.” Archie eased onto the rear bench seat beside him and lifted the collar of his steel-studded war coat higher over his neck. “Duart Castle has never fallen for a reason. ’Tis well-guarded and impenetrable. What’s your plan of attack?”

  “We’ll sail right into their sea-gate and request a place to rest for the night.”

  Archie raised a speculative brow. “An interesting plan. I take it you intend to force them into honoring the Highland code of hospitality?”

  “Aye. I hardly need to raise my sword when Katherine’s wish is to bring about some peace.” As much as he detested having to request hospitality, he had to consider Katherine’s feelings. He had to give her a fighting chance at seeing to her mission, whether he believed in it or not.

  “Even if they allow us entry, they could easily slaughter us in our sleep. The MacLeans are well known for extending that form of hospitality, or have you forgotten what Lachlan so recently did to John MacIan?”

  The MacIans of Ardnamurchan were their kin, and in times of war, they stood by each other’s sides. When John MacIan had accepted an invitation from Lachlan to Duart Castle only a few years past, it had ended in the cold-blooded killing of eighteen of MacIan’s men at Lachlan’s hand, and following that, John MacIan had been locked in Duart’s dungeons for a year.

  “Lachlan isnae here and two of Lachlan’s captains saved MacIan’s life that night and stayed Lachlan’s hand when he would have beheaded him. That at least gives me a little hope that not all the MacLeans are a bloodthirsty lot.”

  “We’ll need to remain alert, to be prepared to attack if they raise arms against us.” Archie leaned forward, elbows to his knees as he clasped his hands. “’Twill be an interesting night ahead.”

  “I have Duart in sight,” Josiah bellowed from the bow, their warrior on lookout. “A guard awaits us.”

  “Dinnae raise your sword unless ’tis in defense.” John gripped the rudder and turned them inland where the castle rose out of the misty dark with forbidding height into the night sky. “We’ll be seeking the MacLeans’ hospitality this eve. Although, everyone is to remain armed and prepared.”

  At the edge of the sea-gate, a warning shout hailed from one MacLean warrior to another then echoed up the trail to the guardsmen patrolling the barbican.

  “Now, ’tis time to make it past their welcoming party.” John strode to the front of the birlinn and as they neared the shore he called out to the MacLeans, “We’ve come at Finlay MacLean’s invitation.” Or close enough. “He traveled with one of our kin, and we wish to ensure Katherine MacLean arrived safely.”

  Four MacLean warriors waded into the water and gripped the sides of their birlinn. The head man’s penetrating gaze drilled into him. “Ye’ll need to await confirmation from our captain afore being permitted on our land.”

  A warrior with black hair and a two-handed claymore strapped to his back stormed down the trail and bounded onto the stone landing. ’Twas Arthur MacLean. He’d met him on the battlefield a year past, an adversary he’d never forget. Arthur had a strong sword arm and neither of them had been able to gain an advantage over the other.

  Arthur’s green eyes glinted. “Well, if it isnae John MacDonald,” he bit out. “What takes you so far from your shores and brings you to Duart?”

  “You have one of our kin, a woman by the name of Katherine. We seek your hospitality, and to ensure she’s come to no harm during her unexpected trip.”

  “You can be assured she is safe and well. The chief’s wife tends her.” He jerked his chin toward Islay. “Feel free to leave. None here will bar your way.”

  “That I cannae do.” He gr
asped the edge of the birlinn and heaved himself into the water. Surging through it, he slogged toward Arthur. “I ask that you honor the Highland code of hospitality and allow us to rest here for the night. We in turn will not raise our swords after the obvious abduction of one of our kin.”

  “Katherine assured me she came willingly.” His gaze slid over John’s men on the boat then came to rest on his brother. “Archie MacDonald. ’Tis unusual for both of Angus MacDonald’s captains to leave Dunyvaig unguarded. Your trip must have been in earnest.”

  “After the way Katherine was taken from our land, surely you didnae expect us to sit idly by.” Archie jumped into the water and splashed toward John.

  “The lass is still a MacLean.” Arthur rolled one sleeve and exposed the dagger sheathed at his wrist.

  John hauled himself up onto the landing and planted his hands on his hips as water sluiced down his body and pooled at his feet. Gaze on Arthur, he growled under his breath. “Katherine is under my protection and until I see her with my own eyes, I willnae leave.”

  “You MacDonalds are a stubborn lot.”

  “That we are.” John waited, holding steady.

  Arthur narrowed his eyes then snorted. “Damn it. If I extend our Highland hospitality to you and allow your visit, then it’s with the understanding your time here will be short. Your weapons will also be removed and stored in the armory.”

  “You cannae expect me to agree to that stipulation considering our recent battle. Our weapons remain on us although you have my word they’ll remain sheathed.” This was not the time to argue, although he couldn’t allow his men to go inside the enemy’s walls unarmed. “A short visit suits us rather well.” He extended his hand to Arthur. “Do I have your agreement?”

  “Aye, but dinnae make me regret my decision.” Arthur shook his hand then motioned toward the castle. “Welcome to Duart. Enter at your own peril.”

  “My thanks.” He released a long breath then over his shoulder, called to his men, “All ashore. We’ve been offered Arthur MacLean’s hospitality for the night.”

  Josiah secured their birlinn to the landing. His man and two others would remain on board for the night, guarding their only avenue of escape out.

  He followed Arthur up the trail and entered the keep. In the great hall, thirty or more MacLean warriors surged around and surrounded them. No surprises there, except Highland hospitality was a sacred obligation and as Arthur hadn’t been able to turn them away, so too must he respect what they’d been granted. He’d have to take great care not to overstep any boundaries, and although he’d promised only a short visit, he certainly wasn’t leaving without his woman.

  “I need to see Katherine MacLean.” He was at Arthur’s mercy with that request.

  “I’m afraid she’s already retired to her chamber. You will have to wait until the morn.”

  “I see.” Hell. It grated on him to do so, but he had little choice.

  Arthur offered him and his men pallets around the hearth then strode across to his warriors who’d settled down across from his men.

  He’d expected naught less and would have set the same precautions in place. Near the stairwell, he chose a pallet, unraveled his plaid from over his clothing and laid down. If only he could ascend those stairs and join the woman he’d crossed the sea for. Katherine was so close yet his chest ached as if she still remained miles away. Frustration burned in his gut as he settled in the darkened corner, pulled his plaid tight around him and with his hand on his sword hilt, watched over all.

  * * * *

  Unbelievable. Arthur had just led John and his men through Duart’s gates and into the keep, their swords still at their sides. Katherine stepped away from her window and paced her chamber. “I can’t believe John’s come.”

  Margaret closed the wooden shutters with shaky hands. “Arthur wouldnae permit the MacDonalds entry unless they requested our hospitality. Even then, I’m surprised your kin would ask such a thing considering Angus was tossed into the dungeons after requesting the same only a few short years ago. I worry whenever our clans are cloistered so closely together. Things usually never end well when that occurs.”

  “John’s always been against my decision to travel here.” She hauled on the nightrail the maid had left for her on the end of the bed. “He’ll be furious he’s had to step onto the enemy’s land.”

  “Fury wouldnae drive a man to follow a woman, or request sanctuary under his enemy’s roof to do so. I will go and speak to Arthur and make sure all is well.” She crossed to her and gripped her hand. “Remain here. The guard outside your door will ensure you’re no’ disturbed throughout the night.”

  “Some time alone might help sort out my thoughts.” She had to come up with a plan now John was here. His arrival had changed everything.

  “Rest and sleep well.” Margaret kissed her cheek. “We’ll talk again in the morn. I wish to know more about you and your desire for peace.”

  “Thank you for all you’ve done for me tonight. It’s truly appreciated.”

  “You’re most welcome.” With a gentle smile, she closed the door behind her.

  Why had John come? She climbed under the thick fur bedcover and burrowed into the soft down mattress. Heat pulsed through the room from the fire, but a chill still swept through her. She ached to go to John. The distance separating them was small but it pulled at her like the widest chasm. Only she couldn’t forget he belonged to another. Damn it. This was all such a mess. Why the fae thought she could bring about peace, she had no idea.

  Chapter 7

  Katherine tossed and turned throughout the night. She thumped her pillow and groaned. It shouldn’t be this difficult to put her impossible desire for John out of her mind. He’d agreed to a contracted marriage with another. As the hours passed, sleep continued to elude her, as did a plan.

  Giving up on finding both, she shoved the bedcovers aside and nabbed one of the gowns the maid had hung in her ambry. She’d talk to John now and at least discover why he’d followed her when he’d been so insistent he’d never attempt a trip to Mull.

  With the mountainous folds of rich blue fabric in hand, she eased the gown over her head. The layers slithered down her body and brushed the polished floorboards. She pulled the front laces together along the edge of the low-cut neckline, slid her feet into the matching slippers and before the looking glass, ran a brush quickly through her hair. After a pinch to her cheeks, she rolled her shoulders and inserted her resolve. She was a strong woman. She could handle one single Highland warrior.

  She yanked the door open. Across the passageway, the guard straightened from a resting position against the wall and stared at her through stringy black hair. Behind him, a single candle-lit wall sconce cast an eerie glow over his leather vest studded with bits of steel.

  He palmed his side sword. “’Tis a mite early to be leaving your chamber, my lady. Dawn is still some time away.”

  “I’d like to see my kin and it appears it can’t wait. Could you take me to John MacDonald, please?”

  “Aye, as you wish. This way.”

  She adjusted the long lace sleeves of her gown and followed him down the drafty stairwell. In the darkened great hall, the trestle tables had been moved to one side to accommodate the additional number of men sprawled across pallets. The guard motioned her toward the corner then took a position near the doors where he could survey all.

  She edged toward the pallet in the shadows and knelt. John lay on his side, his dark hair a wind-tossed mess as was the growth of stubble hazing his jaw. He looked rumpled and such a sight for sore eyes.

  Leaning closer, she pressed her palm against his chest and embraced the heat that reached her through his padded leather cotun. All the turmoil within her settled with that one simple touch.

  “Katherine.” One hushed word, filled with pain as he opened his eyes and stared at her. “Come here.” Gently, he tugged her down beside him, wrapped his tartan around them both and buried his nose in her hair. “How co
uld you leave me?”

  She stroked her thumbs over his high cheekbones. “I’m sorry.”

  “Explain yourself.” He edged up onto one elbow and gestured to Archie on the pallet at his feet to keep watch over the hall.

  Archie nodded and scanned the shadowed depths of the room lit only by the light of the fire.

  “Don’t be mad at me,” she whispered.

  “I’m far beyond mad.” He tucked her underneath him, lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.

  One taste was all it took to cloud her senses. She swept her hands around his neck, dragged him closer and with her heart beating frantically against his, kissed him with all the longing she’d held back since that morning they’d parted. “I’ve missed you, so much.”

  “Then dinnae leave me again.” He urged her lips apart and plundered the depths of her mouth, their tongues tangling in a heated duel.

  Oh, sweet heaven. She wanted more. Trailing one finger along the waistband of his pants, she encountered hard, hot skin. Skimming lower, she brushed the head of his cock straining against his leather pants for release.

  “Katherine.” His groan rumbled against her ear and made her tingle all over. “We need to speak, in private.”

  * * * *

  John grasped Katherine’s hands and stayed her touch. His damn cock throbbed and would spear through his trews if he didn’t halt her. Kissing her, tasting the warm honey of her mouth and holding her in his arms again was a divine torture he never wanted to give up.

  Across the great hall, the guard who’d escorted her downstairs remained at attention. Taking her above-stairs for their coming conversation wasn’t an option, not when the guard would stop him before he’d even reached the first step. The antechamber off the hall would have to do. They needed to talk, and she needed to understand the predicament she’d placed him in. Aye, she would be leaving with him at first light, and he’d accept no other outcome. Now to make his feisty little faerie understand that’s exactly what would be happening.