Taking a deep breath, he dug his heels into the wooden floor planks. His jest about pleasing his mother had been more than just an attempt at humor, for it held several grains of truth. Aye, his mother would indeed be sorely disappointed in him if he failed at this task.
McKenna men did not fail their women. His father had taught him that important lesson. Even if he had to resort to kidnapping the lass, he would be returning to McKenna Castle with his mother’s holiday guest in tow.
As he conversed—or rather sparred—with her aunt and uncle, Davina’s downcast eyes remained glued to Malcolm McKenna. Her hidden gaze traveled the length of him, hungry to see a resemblance between Malcolm and his brother, but there was little of James to be found in the elder McKenna. Malcolm was taller, his hair darker in color, his eyes blue and intense.
His hair was windswept and wild, falling to the top of his shoulders. His features were uncommonly handsome, bold and striking. Square jaw, straight nose, broad brow. Fine lines creased the corners of his eyes, and a shadow of a beard shaded his cheeks.
His fur-trimmed surcoat and brais were mud-stained from travel, the leather boots that hugged his muscled calves dusty. Yet their quality and cost was unmistakable.
He was everything a lass could want. Strong, handsome, beguiling. Yet all Davina could think about was turning on her heel, running to her chamber, and bolting the door behind her.
Never in her wildest dreams had she considered that Lady Aileen would send her eldest son, heir of the clan, as her escort. She had expected a much older, seasoned retainer would be sent to lead her escort. Not a young, virile warrior of wealth and privilege.
It was a circumstance that both assured and terrified her in equal measure.
Davina’s heart had not ceased its erratic beating from the moment Sir Malcolm strode so boldly into the great hall as if it were his own, confidence and strength in each step. He carried an air of danger and a swagger of command that bespoke a man used to being in charge.
Accustomed to being obeyed.
His voice boomed—deep and low—when he spoke. The sound of it sent a shiver racing down her spine. The uneasiness she always felt whenever she was near a man came to life in her stomach and it took every ounce of courage she possessed to stand her ground.
Fidgeting nervously, Davina swept an errant strand of hair away from her face. Aunt Isobel gave her a sharp look, but the older woman’s gaze softened when she saw how badly her niece was trembling.
“Davina, go and tell Cook to prepare refreshments fer our guests,” Aunt Isobel commanded. “I’m sure Sir Malcolm and his men could do with a bit of food and drink to tide them over until the evening meal is served.”
“Ye are most kind, Lady Isobel,” Sir Malcolm replied. “My men and I are grateful fer yer hospitality.”
Davina could not help but admire the smooth tone Sir Malcolm used to deliver his subtle jab at the less than gracious reception he had received, as it made it impossible for her aunt to take offense.
After delivering the message to the cook, Davina took a few moments to collect her composure before returning to the great hall. As she entered, she saw that Aunt Isobel, Uncle Fergus, and Sir Malcolm were gathering at the high table.
Turning at her arrival, Sir Malcolm gave her a confident smile and politely offered his hand to assist her to her chair. Gulping back a protest, Davina glanced down worriedly at his extended, ungloved hands. They were large and well formed, with powerful fingers that boasted calluses and even a small scar on the top of one of his forefingers.
Determined to leap over this new hurdle, Davina sternly reminded herself that if she was ever going to conquer her fear of men, she had to find the courage to act normally when in their company. Sir Malcolm was simply being chivalrous—nothing more.
Yet as she watched his strong, masculine hand draw nearer to hers, Davina let out a small cry and pulled back, preventing any contact. Immediately ashamed of her skittish response, she risked a glance at Sir Malcolm, fearing that she had insulted him. But his face was devoid of any expression. ’Twas almost as though he was unaware of her actions, but of course, that was impossible.
Davina breathed a small sigh of relief, grateful he chose to ignore her odd behavior rather than comment upon it. Other men were not nearly as gracious, displaying open disdain whenever she revealed her nervous demeanor.
Hastily, she took her seat, then laced her fingers together to still their trembling. As two young pages brought platters of cold meat, bread, and cheese, along with pitchers of ale and wine, Davina deliberately slowed her breathing, hoping to release some of her pent-up anxiety.
She was dimly aware of the conversation between her aunt and uncle and Sir Malcolm swirling around her, but was too preoccupied to give it too much attention. That is, until her aunt cut to the matter at hand.
“I fear that Davina shall not be able to go with ye, Sir Malcolm, as she cannae travel without a maid,” Aunt Isobel suddenly declared.
Sir Malcolm abruptly ceased chewing a piece of coarse, brown bread and squinted at Aunt Isobel in understandable confusion. Davina was certain he believed this to be a woman’s problem and none of his concern. Truth be told, he was right.
“Naturally, accommodations shall be made for Lady Davina to bring her servant,” he replied graciously, wiping his fingers on the piece of cloth that hung like a swag from the edge of the table. “She may bring two women with her, if she desires.”
“There is not even one maid, let alone two, that can be spared,” Uncle Fergus grumbled.
“Aye, we’ve holiday preparations of our own to see to,” Aunt Isobel huffed. “All hands are needed here.”
The confusion on Sir Malcolm’s face deepened. Davina felt a jolt of pity for him, as he seemed at a total loss in how to solve this dilemma, or more importantly, why he was being presented with it at all.
“There are plenty of servants at McKenna Castle,” he said. “I’m certain my mother can arrange fer one of them to attend to Lady Davina’s needs while she is with us.”
“She is an unmarried lass,” Uncle Fergus stated emphatically. “A delicate, frail female. She cannae travel as the only woman in the company of so many men. ’Tis unthinkable!”
If her uncle believed Sir Malcolm would be thoroughly chastised by such a remark, he was in for a rude awakening. The handsome knight favored them with a haughty lift of his brow. “Lady Davina need not bring a servant. Any respectable female in yer clan can serve as her companion. My mother often travels in the same manner when she visits her relations.”
Uncle Fergus sputtered at the simple solution, yet could find no fault with it. Aunt Isobel looked as though she had taken a large sip of sour wine, but she too had no protest to offer.
“I shall ask Colleen,” Davina said slowly, speaking for the first time. “I believe that she would enjoy the change of scenery. She has been grieving mightily since her husband died this past spring.”
“A widow. Perfect.” Sir Malcolm favored Davina with a relieved smile and she felt a blush stinging her cheeks. “’Tis settled. We leave tomorrow, at first light. Now, if ye will excuse me, my men and I need to see to the care of our horses.”
The chair scraped noisily against the floor as Sir Malcolm stood. Uncle Fergus also rose.
“We will have a small chamber where ye may rest fer the night,” Uncle Fergus said. “The barracks are full, but yer men may sleep in the great hall.”
’Twas a rather beggarly offer of hospitality, but Sir Malcolm accepted it with a smile. Still, Davina could not help but wonder what he was truly thinking.
“I’ll see ye at the evening meal, Lady Davina.” He bowed, then turned and walked away.
She rubbed her forehead. Gracious! He seemed to take all the air from the chamber with him.
“Merciful heavens, Davina, ye cannae mean to leave the security of these walls with the likes of him,” Aunt Isobel exclaimed, sending her a hard look. “Who knows what could happen?”
The o
utrage in her aunt’s voice gave Davina pause, yet she did not yield. Her hand moved down to her throat and she pressed her fingers sharply against the pulsing veins.
“The McKennas are honorable men. I shall be perfectly safe,” Davina declared breathlessly, knowing if she could survive a journey with Sir Malcolm McKenna leading her escort, she would be well prepared to deal with any man.
Chapter Five
Davina did not attend the evening meal. Though she had assured her aunt that she was eager to make this journey, she was not quite prepared to again be in such close proximity with Sir Malcolm. Besides, she had little time to make her preparations, since he wished to leave at first light, and there was much to do to get ready.
Fortunately, Colleen was pleased to accompany Davina and the widow proved to be a big help organizing the clothes and other items that would be needed for the journey and the time they spent at McKenna Castle.
Trunk packed, Davina ate a light meal in her chamber, checked everything one final time, then crawled into bed. Yet she was far too restless to sleep. Eyes wide open, she stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the doubts and fears that plagued her mind.
Tossing fitfully¸ she finally drifted into a light sleep a few hours before dawn. But her scant slumber was filled with a vivid, disturbing dream.
A tall, broad-shouldered warrior stood before her, teasing her for a kiss. Though his face was handsome and his manner pleasant, the idea of a kiss made her nervous—very nervous.
With a hesitant smile, she politely refused. In the blink of an eye his pleasant manner vanished. He captured her in his arms, refusing to release her. Not when she demanded. Not when she begged. Not when she began to weep.
Holding her tightly, the warrior laughed as she struggled to pull away. He kissed her neck, then bit her behind the ear. Shame and fear engulfed her as he started pawing her like an animal, lewdly fondling her breast.
Tears of frustration squeezed from her eyes. She tried to scream¸ but no sound came out. A beefy hand twisted in her hair as the warrior pulled her to the ground, flipping her on her back. He swiftly straddled her, his hips pressing against hers.
Hysteria bubbled to the surface. His features morphed into a grotesque blur as she felt him reaching for the hem of her gown, yanking it up . . .
Davina awoke with a cry, gurgling and gasping for breath. Merciful God! It had been many months since she had been tormented by such terrifying dreams. No doubt the notion of leaving the safety of Armstrong Castle had brought them roaring back to life.
She closed her eyes and took several small, steadying breaths. She could feel the moisture gathering behind her lids, yet Davina refused to allow the sobs to come, knowing if anyone heard them, they would tell her aunt and uncle, proving that she was not strong enough to make this journey.
Her breathing still ragged, Davina slowly got to her feet. She walked across her small chamber—nearly tripping over her packed belongings—settled herself into a chair, and bowed her head. Are Aunt Isobel and Uncle Fergus right? Will leaving home cause the fear that lurks so close to the surface to consume me?
Wincing, Davina lifted her head and glanced at the small wooden box tucked into a stone shelf in the corner of the chamber. Inside the box was a bottle of the medicine she took whenever her nerves became overset. ’Twas a brew the clan healer had created especially for her. Encouraged by her aunt, she had taken it several times a day after the attack, welcoming its mind-numbing effects, drinking bottle after bottle for months on end.
Gradually, however, Davina realized she was becoming far too dependent upon it. At first,’twas impossible for her to abandon it completely, for her fears were so vivid and strong, yet she managed to discipline herself to use it only when her need was most dire. The hard-fought results were gratifying and she was proud of the fact that not a drop of the potent brew had crossed her lips for many, many months.
Feeling agitated, Davina walked to her small window and pulled back the leather cover. The cold air hit her square in the face, but the bracing wind was not enough to clear her head. Hastily, she moved away, glancing again at the box. I need it or else I’ll never find the courage to leave in a few hours.
Lips pursed, she allowed her feet to carry her across the chamber. Staring hard, she waited a long moment before lifting the lid and removing the bottle.
Only one wee sip.
The medicine tasted bitter on her tongue and the urge to take a large swallow was strong, but Davina resisted. With a determined shudder, she pressed the cork tightly back into the neck and was rewarded with a feeling of control. Yet instead of returning the bottle to its proper place, Davina slipped it carefully into her small trunk.
The first day of her journey to McKenna Castle passed quickly, with little incident. Uncle Fergus and Aunt Isobel were silent and stoic as Davina bid them farewell. Though Davina hated to see the hint of hurt upon their faces, she pointedly ignored their disapproval and acted as if all was fine.
Davina’s knuckles were white beneath her leather gloves as she approached the gates of the castle. Five years. Five years since I have been on the other side.
Gritting her teeth, Davina pressed her knees against her horse’s flanks, encouraging the mount to increase its speed. An icy quiver of unease prickled up the nape of her neck and she felt every eye in the bailey staring at her, but Davina kept her gaze forward and her back straight.
“Well done, milady,” Colleen whispered.
Davina turned to the older woman riding beside her and gave her a small smile. The breath she had been holding released in a rush. I’ve done it!
The urge to shout the news with triumph overcame her, but Davina tempered her response. ’Twas only the first of many challenges she would need to conquer. Still, it felt rewarding to have success and the boost to her courage was much appreciated.
Quietly, Davina savored her victory, thankful also that Sir Malcolm was busy ordering his men into formation and therefore unaware of the swirling tension surrounding the significance of her passing through the gates of Armstrong Castle.
The weather was cold, but free of snow. Davina wore her warmest gown and heavy woolen cloak, yet the occasional gust of wind tore through her with a chill that reached her bones. Sir Malcolm rode at the head of the column, leading his men, though every now and then he would turn to look over his shoulder at her.
Each time his gaze met hers, her heart would nervously trip over itself, yet she managed to bestow a pleasant smile upon him, hoping to convey that all was well. She appeared to succeed, for Sir Malcolm would then nod his head and return his attention to the road. After a few hours they made a brief stop to water the horses and eat a bit of crusty bread and cheese, washed down with wine. Sir Malcolm approached as Davina pulled her aching body back atop her mount.
“We must travel until nearly dark in order to reach Montgomery Abbey, where we will take shelter fer the night,” he explained. “Will that pose any difficulty fer ye and yer companion?”
“Nay, we shall be fine,” Davina muttered, averting her gaze so he could not see the doubt in her eyes.
It had been many years since she had ridden for so long and her cold, stiff muscles were already protesting. But she refused to complain, refused to slow their progress.
’Twas only after hearing Colleen groan as she settled herself upon her own horse that Davina felt a pang of worry.
“Och, how thoughtless of me, Colleen, fer not asking how ye fared before answering Sir Malcolm. Shall I call him back?”
Colleen shook her head. “Nay, milady. I might be older, but I am used to riding in the cold weather. Far more than ye.”
The truth of those words rankled, but Davina lifted her chin. “I fear ye are right, but ’tis past time I became used to it again.”
Her determined words, and many fortifying deep breaths, gave Davina strength to endure the bone-jarring afternoon. Taking her at her word, Sir Malcolm paid her no heed, turning his attention to other matters. For that, Davina
was grateful, for she was uncertain she could adequately hide the extent of her physical discomfort if he scrutinized her too closely.
After what felt like an eternity, salvation arrived. Bathed in the glow of the setting sun, Davina caught a glimpse of the spires of the abbey, admitting they were the most welcoming sight that she had seen in a very long time. Spirits buoyed, she stretched the soreness from her back and shoulders and urged her mount onward.
The abbot stood in the yard, ready to greet them, and Davina realized that Sir Malcolm must have sent one of his men ahead to make certain all would be ready. ’Twas a small thing, yet showed surprising consideration.
James would have done the same. The truth of that notion brought a wistful smile to her lips.
Sir Malcolm leaped gracefully down from his horse, then turned to assist Davina. A bolt of alarm sank into her gut. She started shivering, mostly from the cold, but also at the notion of Sir Malcolm placing his hands upon her.
She attempted to scramble off the horse on her own. Sir Malcolm noticed her trembling and, assuming it was due to the cold, insisted they get inside at once. Without waiting for a reply, he reached up and encircled her waist. She jumped, but his grip was firm and never faltered.
She swayed slightly when he set her on her feet, her heart drumming so loudly she was certain he heard it. She raised her arms, struggling with the intense urge to bat his hands away. Fortunately, he released her before it was necessary.
Still, she could feel his eyes upon her, staring at her, and she could only imagine what he was thinking. Hoping to distract him from her odd reaction, she gave him a quick smile of thanks, but inside she felt wooden. The physical contact had left her with a feeling of panic so severe it nearly robbed her of breath.
Perhaps this was a colossal mistake. Leaving the shelter and familiarity of her home was too much for her delicate nerves. No doubt she would make a fool of herself many times over before they even arrived at McKenna Castle. And the good Lord only knew what else she would do there before the visit ended.
The Highlander Who Loved Me Page 6