“You ken my daughter, Lady Fiona.” Her father gave both the Stewart sons a glowing smile. Fiona refrained from rolling her eyes. He needn’t be so ingratiating. Hell would freeze over and her hair would turn white before she’d marry one of those two.
“Ye rode in a carriage, Fiona?” Alister near crowed. “I had no idea ye looked like that. Usually yer hair’s a tangled mess and—” He stopped when his father elbowed him in the ribs.
As the two elders stepped aside, their heads bowed together in conversation, Fiona was left with the Stewart brothers. Her teeth clenched.
Fergus was more subtle. He took her gloved hand, giving it a kiss. Leaning over, he whispered, “I ken another way to tangle yer hair.”
Fiona blinked, her other hand fisting in her skirt. Did he mean what she thought he meant? Normally, she’d have landed her right fist on his nose for such a comment but her father stood smiling not ten feet away, completely unaware of what an arse Fergus was. So instead she placed a bland look on her face and delivered her barb without her fist. Dropping into a curtsey, she saw his eyes drift to her cleavage. As she stood, she moved closer so as not to be overheard. “The man who musses my hair will find himself at the altar the next morn’,” she murmured softly all the while keeping a smile upon her face.
Fergus paled as he took a step back.
Her father’s eyes narrowed as he watched but he did not rejoin her and instead resumed conversation with Laird Stewart.
It was sure to be a long day.
More men joined them in the lane, leaving the comfort of the Stewarts’ home to come out to greet them. The elder men gravitated toward her father, the younger gathered with her, Angus, and Fergus.
Standing straighter, her insides tightened, ready to snap with every man whose eyes roved over her.
As the Lockwood sons joined the conversation, they were even less subtle.
“So different, Fiona.” Rutland Lockwood had allowed himself a slow perusal of her figure. “Who ken ridin’ a horse like ye do made ye ready for ridin’ a man?”
“I didnae ken ye’d make such a fine wife, yer usually covered in mud,” Barclay smirked with a glint in his eye.
She pasted her falsest smile upon her lips. She often traded barbs with the boys, but she felt at a disadvantage now, dressed as she was. “Not even mud can hide the fact that yer a scrawny scarecrow,” she sneered at Barclay as the other men snickered. Turning to Rutland, her green eyes narrowed. “And you, Rutland,” her voice had dropped dangerously and Rutland actually took a half step back. “Elizabeth Crawley had an interesting story about what a ride with you was like.”
It was a dirty blow and she knew it. But Rutland deserved to have this story thrown in his face after what he’d just said. Her second cousin, Elizabeth, had allowed him to kiss her in the barn and the man had spilled his seed in his own pants.
For a moment, Rutland stood still as a statue, his face in slack lines of disbelief as the other men roared with laughter around her. If her father ever heard her, he’d box her ears. But they had started it, they’d always started it, because they knew she could give it back.
But Rutland’s face was changing. It went bright red and then taut with anger. Wearing a corset and petticoats, there would be no escaping his wrath and his hand raised as he stepped toward her. “Why you little—”
Someone stepped in front of her blocking Rutland from her view. It took less than a second to recognize the back of Colin’s head. He’d come, after all. Her insides clenched with anger and excitement, blast him to hell. “Touch her, and it will be me that takes it out of yer hide.” Colin’s voice was low and menacing. His broad shoulders set wider than any other man’s while his hands were raised, ready for a fight. He was taller and more muscular than any of the other men here, and the familiar ache began in her nether regions. She huffed a sigh at him and at herself.
“Colin,” she snapped, regaining her senses. She didn’t need him for anything, ever.
Not acknowledging she spoke, he didn’t reply as he continued to stare down the men in front of him. She was already annoyed, at her father, at the other men that surrounded her, and most especially at Colin. She jabbed him in the small of his back with her finger. “Move out of the way, I don’t need yer help.”
Rutland laughed then. “Ye heard her, Colin. Fiona doesn’t need yer help. She’s more of a man than ye are.”
Fiona sucked in her breath. Not because she was particularly upset but because Rutland was about to get licked good. Colin would not stand the insult, that she knew. He was stronger and tougher than most Scottish men, and that was saying something.
Colin stepped closer to Rutland, and his voice dropped low and quiet. “I’m going to beat ye good for that. Ye’re not going to know when or where, but it will happen. And after it does, ye’ll apologize to Fiona or I will do it again and again until ye do.”
“I was only jokin’.” Rutland took a half step back. He knew he was no match for Colin. “There’s no need to be like that.”
“Fiona is a lady—” Colin started but Rutland interrupted.
“Fiona is not a lady, at least not like the rest of ‘em. She’s always been able to take an insult and—”
“Do ye see her? Does she look like she’s here to listen to yer shite?” Colin took a breath and she took the opportunity to step in front of him.
The other men crowded around them, forming a circle that blocked them from the elders’ view.
Turning to Colin, she gave him a little push on the chest. Which likely was a mistake because her body tingled from the contact. She ignored it. “I dunnae need ye to help me.”
Rutland moved closer behind her, likely feeling more secure now she was between him and Colin. “You heard her, she doesn’t need ye to help her.” Then he placed his hand on her arse and gave one of her cheeks a squeeze. She sucked in her breath, anger coursing through her. He’d gone too far this time.
Spinning, in one fluid motion, she cracked him in the face with her fist. How dare he touch her? Her blow landed directly on his hawkish nose, which immediately began spewing blood.
Rutland let out a roar of pain and Colin pulled her back so that she just missed Rutland’s return swing. Tucking her behind him, Colin stepped up and cracked Rutland again, sending him crashing to the ground.
“What the devil?” her father roared, likely hearing the noise. He lumbered over to join them. Her father was a great deal slower than he used to be, but he still towered over the men, even Colin. Fiona’s stomach gave a flutter of nerves. Her father would be angry at her fit of temper, even if Rutland deserved it. She tucked her now bloodied fist in her dark green skirt. Perhaps he wouldn’t notice.
“Just some friendly banter is all,” Colin gave her a father an easy grin. The other men nodded and stepped in front of Rutland. If there was one rule, it was that they did not allow their parents to see their antics.
She’d known many of these young men since she was a child, none of them had liked that she kept up with them, not that she’d cared. But the tenor had changed and it frightened her just a touch. Rutland, or any of the others had never tried to touch her like that. For a brief moment, she was glad Colin was by her side. If nothing else, he’d keep her safe.
But then she remembered. He hadn’t been there when she’d really needed him—when her father had demanded she marry. Stepping away from Colin, she smoothed her dress and returned to her father’s side.
She didn’t look back at him as she walked into the Stewarts’ estate. She was done with Colin Campbell.
Chapter 2
Colin watched Fiona walk away, acutely aware that she didn’t look back at him. Nor had she spoken to him other than to tell him she didn’t need him.
He knew she’d be angry. Of course she was. He should have gone to her and explained why he hadn’t offered for her hand but he didn’t even know how to begin.
I’m sorry, I kissed ye. Held ye close in the hay. Touched ye like I did. It sounded rid
iculous. Even more unbelievable was that jealousy had fueled his actions. When he’d seen her with the Earl of Dumfries, he’d near lost his senses. Which was ridiculous because Fiona was his friend, nothing more. At least that that was what he kept telling himself. But his were not the actions of a friend.
He gave his head a shake to stop the barrage of thoughts. Because their bond couldn’t grow. Feelings like that made a man weak, wasn’t his father proof enough?
Shaking off these thoughts he followed her into the house.
While he couldn’t give her his affection, he could certainly protect her. She might not want his help, but she was getting it anyway, especially if another one of these upstarts tried to touch her again. He didn’t care if that was wrong or not, he’d keep her safe no matter the cost to himself.
Just the thought of what Rutland had done filled him with rage. The problem with Fiona was that she had tussled with the boys most of her childhood. Many of them were entirely too familiar with her. They were used to trading insults, but less familiar with her looking the part of a beauty. It was making them behave in odd ways.
If he were honest, it was making him behave differently too. Though, he’d always known Fiona was a beauty. And he adored Fiona on the back of a horse, riding wild and free. But seeing her in a dress, her hair pulled back to accentuate her high cheekbones and large green eyes. Well, it made his insides go wild with want.
He thought back to the barn and heat filled him again. He hadn’t taken her maidenhead but he’d come too close. He’d never touched an innocent woman like that before, but Fiona was different. There was so much passion in everything she did. It was easy to forget what was proper.
He found her in the entryway, ringed by another group of men, mostly sons of lairds. Her father was with her this time and these men were not known to him or, he assumed, her. It meant, at least for the moment, they’d likely behave.
And once her father announced her engagement, they’d respect that.
While he hadn’t been home to hear the announcement, he was sure, in his absence, she’d been promised to Dumfries. Dumfries’ extended stay at the castle couldn’t mean anything else. His chest tightened again but he knew it was for the best. Dumfries offered her a fine match and without the entanglement of emotion, Fiona was sure to be happier. Wasn’t that what his father had always said?
As much as it pained him, Dumfries was the better choice for Fiona. Still, he wanted to part on good terms. They’d been friends their entire lives after all.
He passed by the group and followed the maids up the stairs, sure they were preparing Fiona and Haggis’s rooms. The first room was far too masculine to be for Fiona and so finding the second, he waited for the maids to leave and then slipped through the door, hiding himself behind the curtains.
It didn’t take long until he heard her enter, her trunks being delivered. “Thank ye,” she called and then the door closed again. Waiting for a moment, the rustle of skirts caught his ear and then the distinct sound of her sigh. Another five seconds passed and when he didn’t hear anyone else’s voice, he peeked out from behind the curtain.
She sat at her vanity, her chin resting on her hands as she looked to her reflection with a frown. He tried to ignore the wrenching of his heart.
Quickly scanning the room one last time, Colin stepped out from behind the curtain and slowly crossed the room. “Fiona,” he called softly.
With a start, she jumped from the chair. “What dae ye think ye’re doin’ in here?” she cried.
“I wanted to talk wit’ ye but wit’ that ring of men around ye, this was the only way I could get a word in.” He gave her a wink, hoping to lighten the mood.
It didn’t work. Her face darkened instead. “The time for ye and I to talk is long past.” She came up to him then and gave him another good poke in the chest. “Are ye here to offer for my hand?”
Colin’s mouth snapped closed. She’d gone straight to the heart of the matter and asked for the one thing he couldn’t do. It made him ache and as he looked in her eyes, he could see the hurt there too.
“I didn’t think so.” She took a half step back, her face losing the look of hurt. Instead it held the strength Fiona always seemed to possess. “There is nothing to say, then. Get out of my room.”
“Of course there are things to say.” Colin could feel his own anger rising. Sure, he should have explained. But she was going to toss a lifetime of friendship aside because of a few kisses? But even as he thought it, he knew it had been more than a few stolen kisses.
“Like what?” She crossed her arms, her cheeks turning pink, even as her eyes flashed in anger.
His hands came to her hips. He shouldn’t touch her like this but he couldn’t seem to resist. “I can’t believe yer this upset. It was one time, and ye can’t tell me ye weren’t curious—”
It happened so suddenly, he’d hardly expected it. One second she was standing a foot away from him and the next, she was ramming her shoulder into his stomach. He bent as a soft whoosh of air pushed out of his lungs. “Get out, Colin Campbell. I never want tae see ye again.”
Then she pushed him and he stumbled toward the door. It wasn’t that she was so strong that she’d overpowered him. In fact, Fiona was going to have to learn that even Rutland was too strong for her to tussle with now that they were grown. She’d end up hurt. But he allowed her to push him out anyway. Because, he couldn’t be with her and when they were together, he couldn’t stand to be without her. It was for the best, really. She’d be happier without him.
Except that as her door slammed in his face, he had the feeling he’d gone about this entirely wrong.
Fiona’s breath was ragged as she stared at the back of the door. How dare he come in here and lecture her about preserving their friendship. She was about to be sold off to some man and it was all his fault.
She ignored the little voice that claimed it was far more her fault, that her father had been driven to take action by slow degree. He was one of the kindest men she knew, but she just couldn’t seem to follow the rules. Still, she’d always thought that he’d want a match for her like he had with her mother. One filled with love.
Returning to the vanity table, she looked at her reflection again. Her hair was pulled back, making her green eyes look even larger. And while she still had a sprinkling of freckles, her skin was a pretty shade of ivory. Colin had liked her well enough to be curious. Why didn’t he want more from her?
That didn’t matter, she told herself. Because she didn’t want Colin either. Not anymore. But still, it would be nice if he still wanted her.
Her mind began turning. How could she make him pay for hurting her? A plan to make him wildly jealous began forming. He’d been jealous of Dumfries. What if she made him jealous again? Then she could reject him. With a smile, she stood to pull the bell cord to call a maid. She’d show Colin Campbell what he was missing. Then he’d be sorry.
A petite maid walked and gave Fiona a quick curtsey. “You rang, miss?”
Fiona gave a nod. “I need someone to help me style my hair.”
“I can ye help ye with that,” she chirped as she crossed the room.
“What’s yer name?” Fiona asked as she sat at the vanity.
“Mary.” She gave Fiona a brilliant smile in the mirror.
Fiona returned it, relaxing immensely. “I’m Fiona. Thank ye fer yer help, Mary.”
Three hours later, she was ready to go to dinner. Her curls had been tamed into soft waves that were loosely tied back. Her ivory dress highlighted the color of her skin and made the green of her eyes shine in the candlelight. Mary had done an admirable job.
As she entered the sitting room to await dinner, all eyes were upon her. A blush climbed her cheeks. Emilia, her shy sister, always claimed that men paid attention to Fiona. But Emilia was wrong. That is to say, they liked her, but as a compatriot not as admirers. It wasn’t until recently that their glances had changed and even then, like Rutland, they didn’t quite s
ee her as a lady.
She scanned the room and caught Colin’s gaze as he lounged on a couch. He was wearing a jacket with his kilt, looking more dapper than she had ever seen him, but even dressed like this, he exuded power, strength. A raw energy that made her breath catch.
A fluttering started deep in her chest. Did he think she looked pretty? But his eyes were unreadable as he stared at her. And that cut her deeply. His handsome features were always set in a welcoming smile when they landed upon her.
Finally, she turned her face away. She wasn’t sure what she’d been hoping. That he’d be so overcome by her beauty that he’d sweep over to her and declare his love? But he did nothing. Her skin prickled with hurt and irritation.
Rutland was first to seek her company, greeting her father and then making small talk with them both. Once her father engaged in conversation with another of the lairds, he leaned in and whispered, “I owe ye an apology. I shouldn’t have touched ye like that and I shouldn’t have swung me fist at ye either.”
She gave a nod, “I likely shouldn’t have punched yer nose.” She glanced at him, realizing it was rather swollen.
He gave her a small smile. “Ye’ve been my friend fer a long time and now yer a grown woman. I guess it’s hard tae know if I should pull yer hair or ask ye to dance.”
Her eyes rolled upward. “Just dunnae touch my arse and we’ll be fine.” But she felt her heart lurch. It was a nice enough apology and she wished Colin had said something similar this afternoon.
He laughed then. “Fair enough.” He stepped closer. “Is yer father really forcin’ ye to marry?”
Her hands shot to her hips. She didn’t like other people knowing what had happened between her and her father. It filled her with embarrassment that her father considered her so wayward, he was forcing a match. Or that all the men here were looking at her, assessing her for their purposes. It made her angry just thinking about it. “Where’d ye hear that?”
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