In the Warrior’s Bed

by Mary Wine

  “Young McJames, I did no expect to see ye back this year.” Alarik McKorey offered his hand in greeting. Neighbors on the southern side of McJames property, the man was a long-time ally against the McQuades. He also wore good Scottish wool without the elaborate trim and jewels. It was a welcome sight among the sea of presumptuous status seekers.

  “I decided that both yer lovely sisters were too far away from me.”

  McKorey’s sister Raelin peered over her lace fan at him. Her face wasn’t painted, only a touch of color on her lips. It made for a refreshing sight that earned her a smile from his lips. Aye, here was a woman who would bring a good connection if he married her.

  “Good day to ye, Raelin.”

  Her eyes narrowed in distaste before she gripped her sister’s arm and tugged her away from him. Alarik shot them a hard look.

  “What goes on here, Alarik? I dinna know I’d offended yer sisters.” And it appeared that whatever his sin was, everyone around him knew it because there were whispers aplenty.

  “I told them to reserve their judgment until yer side of the tale was voiced.” Alarik offered him a hard look. “I know the McQuades have been a thorn in yer side too long.”

  “What are ye talking about, man? I’ve no done anything that I need my friends to make excuses for.”

  Alarik didn’t answer. He looked past Cullen as another wave of whispers rippled across the courtiers. Turning around he gazed at the face he’d seen one too many times in his memory. A flare of satisfaction burned through him as he confirmed his suspicions. She stood next to McQuade, confirming that she was his daughter.

  But her face was pale.

  Cullen stared at the ashen shade and her bloodless lips. She held them tightly clamped together. Her chin trembled but only a tiny amount, so small he’d have missed it if he wasn’t staring at her so intently. It was a stark contrast to the memory he held of her. His temper stirred as he watched the way her brothers looked at her; it was far from kind.

  She wore no powder or paint. Only a good wool dress that buttoned up to her neck. There were creases where it had been folded back when it warmed up in the afternoons. At court such ware was misplaced almost as much as her somber expression. Even his own doublet had been pressed so that it didn’t look like he’d appeared in front of his king fresh from the road.

  The whispers in the room became louder as people noticed his attention on her. Bronwyn turned and found him. Her eyes widened when she saw him. Heat erupted throughout his body. It was instant and undeniable. The only thing that made it endurable was the small flicker he watched emerge in Bronwyn’s eyes. The whispers in the hall increased, cutting through his fascination with her.

  “Maybe the king will force them to wed…”

  “She’s soiled…”

  “Why marry what he’s already had…”

  Cullen shot a look at Alarik. “What nonsense goes on here?”

  McKorey leaned in closer. “McQuade accused ye of using his daughter.”

  Cullen’s gaze shot back toward Bronwyn. His temper erupted but it was laced with desire so thick he wasn’t sure what he felt. It took every shred of self-discipline he owned to remain standing still. Every fiber of his being wanted to close the distance so that he could hear Bronwyn tell him with her own lips what he’d done.

  Like father…like child…

  Did she really hate him enough to blacken her own reputation with such a lie? Her brothers would, he believed that without a doubt.

  “Make way for the king!”

  The whispers ceased abruptly. Cullen turned to find Jamie striding toward him. The courtiers all lowered themselves. When his king halted in front of him, he inclined his head in deference as well.

  “Cullen McJames, my friend. I am pleased to see ye.”

  The tongues didn’t start wagging until the king and Cullen McJames made it far enough down the carpet not to hear what was being said clearly.

  Bronwyn did.

  She set her mind to not caring but her pride refused to obey her wishes. Pain slashed through her. Her father offered her no mercy. He stood steady as she was forced to endure the public display. He finally turned to look at her.

  “Ye may return to the town house. I’ll see ye sent home to Red Stone on the morrow.”

  May God forgive her, but even if the scriptures said she should ask for his blessing, every inch of her refused. She did not see a father before her, only the man who legally owned her. And he did. There was no one who would intervene, no one who would challenge his charge against her. The very clothing on her back was his by law.

  “Yer greed knows no boundaries.” Bronwyn lowered her voice so that only her sire and siblings heard her. There was a flare of outrage in her father’s eyes, but she shot a look full of loathing back at him. “Deny it and label yourself a liar, sir. Ye blacken me falsely to avoid dowering me. I’m no so simpleminded as to not understand that.”

  A rare look of uncertainty entered Erik McQuade’s eyes. “I’m laird and I’ll do what’s best for the clan. Yer place is to mind me. Dinna be laying any curse on my head, Daughter.”

  “Yer greed is yer curse and I dinna have anything to do with casting it on ye. ‘Tis something ye have shackled to yerself.”

  With another scathing look, Bronwyn turned her back on her father. Heads turned as she walked proudly from the royal hall. She held her chin level and steady.

  She was not soiled. All the gossip in the world would not change that.

  Erik McQuade shivered. A chill swept over him like an icy winter wind. He looked at Sodac. “Go with her.”

  A prickle of fear shot through him, making his voice shake. Erik shook his head, attempting to dislodge the feeling. He pointed at Liam. “Follow her and make sure she stays in her room. Use a few men to ensure it.”

  Liam looked confused. “Sodac can deal with Bronwyn.”

  “I warned ye, boy. Don’t assume that she’s secure.” He stopped when heads turned toward them. Waving his sons toward the doors he covered the distance in quick strides. Once they reached the outer entry room, he stopped in an empty alcove well away from the main entrance.

  “As much as I detest the fact that I have a daughter, there is no getting past the fact that she is my child. Have her watched by my lad. I’d no put it past her to strike out on her own to try her hand at surviving among the middle class. One of those merchants will jump at the chance to wed the daughter of a laird. You can set the men to watching her, but it is you and Sodac that have something to gain by making sure she doesna escape. There’s plenty of men who dinna have land to lose who’d help her out of pity.”

  Liam scowled. “I dinna think of that.”

  “Ye should have. I told ye last night that ye must keep yer sister tucked away or lose that land.” McQuade glared at his sons. “Make sure ye dinna forget again. We must take her back to Red Stone on the morrow and shut her away.”

  “Maybe she should slip off her horse.” Sodac raised an eyebrow with his question.

  “Nay. She’s a pair of hands that earns gold for our coffers. There’s another thing ye have to learn, boy…no to waste. Bronwyn can be as useful as any other servant. I would have smothered her when she was a babe if murder was on my mind. It would not have been hard to dispose of her while covering up my deed.”

  “But the land…” Liam persisted.

  “’Tis ours so long as she does not breed. Besides, my marriage to her mother might have been dissolved if we had no living children. I needed Bronwyn to keep her mother because she never gave me any sons.” McQuade eyed his sons. “Shaming Bronwyn in front of the court will see to keeping good offers from coming to my door. I can refuse them all by saying she’s soiled and I’ll no see any man saddled with a slut that bears my name. No man of mine will dally with her. Once she’s back at Red Stone, Scotland will forget that I even have a daughter.” McQuade suddenly chuckled. “And the best part is, I got to blame it on Cullen McJames. If what she says is true, he’ll wear the
stain without ever having sampled the delights of knowing her. A fine revenge for all the trouble he’s caused me.”

  Liam and Sodac joined their father in his amusement. But Erik sobered quickly.

  “Get on with ye. Before she sets out for the Weavers Guild.”

  Liam and Sodac rushed toward the door, eager to follow in their father’s footsteps by keeping their hands tight around every measure of land belonging to the McQuades. Erik watched them, satisfaction brushing aside the chill that had assaulted him. Most likely it had been the ghost of Bronwyn’s mother, trying to smite him for his actions, but the spirit had better get back to her grave because it was her own fault for giving him a daughter. He’d married the woman for the land and he intended to keep it any way he had to.

  McQuade walked back toward the entrance to the great hall, but the guards refused him admittance. The king’s order to bring Bronwyn had seen him waiting every day that he did not bring her with him. It was the only reason that he’d brought her today, so that he could enter the main hall. Important men attended court and he needed to be viewed as a powerful laird who had the right to enter the royal hall. Appearances were everything.

  “Ye saw my daughter this morning.”

  The guards looked at each other. One of them gave a barely noticeable nod and the pikes uncrossed to clear the doorway.

  Erik enjoyed the fact that the guards raised their pikes to allow him in. There was a ripple of annoyance from the men waiting that placed a smile on his face.

  But what he didn’t see was the figure that emerged from the darker shadows of the alcove. Raelin McKorey shook her head slowly. There was no place private at court. She’d learned that lesson her first month attending the queen. A wise person guarded each thought, holding it carefully inside lest it be used against you. She waited for many long moments before approaching the entrance to the hall. The guards instantly allowed her into the hall, recognizing one of the queen’s maids. She thanked them with a shy smile; there was something else she’d learned the value of—always flirt lightly with the royal guard. It endeared a girl to them and made life so much easier. But there was a fine line to observe when dealing with men. Go too far and your reputation suffered. The gossips were vicious. They condemned without mercy any girl who even looked at a man too boldly.

  Like Bronwyn McQuade.

  It would seem that she should have listened to her brother after all. She was more than glad to hear it because Cullen McJames was a good man. It was just a shame that he was so interested in Bronwyn McQuade. She’d seen the truth of that with her own eyes. Envy bit into her as she threaded her way through the courtiers in search of Cullen. No man had ever looked at her with such a longing. Bronwyn was a lucky girl, to be sure. At least the gossips would be satisfied if the pair married. That was the only solution now.

  “She’s her father’s daughter, all right. Nothing but a curse to every living McJames.” Cullen rounded on James Stuart. “I dinna touch her with anything more than me hand.”

  “So she said.”

  The king’s words deflated his anger. Cullen shook his head trying to make sense of the whole situation. “She did?”

  “She did. It is her father who claims otherwise.”

  Cullen snorted. “Well I suppose I might remind ye that the man lied to ye the last time ye summoned me to court because of a charge he made against my clan.”

  “I’ve nae forgotten that.” The king sat down, indicating with a wave of his fingers for Cullen to take a chair. ’Twas a privilege to be invited to sit in the presence of his monarch, but he didn’t feel like taking his ease.

  “But McQuade accused the girl in the middle of the hall. The gossips are taking it as gospel. He said she was yer whore.”

  Cullen snarled. The sound erupted from his throat without any thought. The ashen pallor of Bronwyn’s face suddenly made sense to him. The court had been dining on her.

  “That makes no sense. Why would the man want to ruin his own daughter’s name?”

  “He’s a greedy pig. Daughters must be dowered if they are to wed well.”

  Cullen stared at his king for a long moment. His temper flared and he left the chair behind to pace. He suddenly recalled just how sweet Bronwyn had looked that day on the hillside, her face full of delight. Her eyes had sparkled and at first he’d thought he was imagining her. The woman he’d seen this morning was nothing like the one he’d dreamed of. That idea sent his temper up a few more degrees. He wasn’t a man who hated, but McQuade was earning it. “McQuade is a menace.”

  James chuckled. “Now that is something that I shoulder more than ye do, my friend. The McJames are no the only clan that McQuade raids. McKorey is shooting me daggers since I allowed McQuade and his sons back into the royal hall. McAlister is no doubt penning me a letter expressing his displeasure over McQuade being allowed the benefits of laird when the man raids his neighbors like a common thief.”

  Cullen offered his king a shake of his head. “Did I mention that I’ve no desire to be king?”

  “There’s many a day I feel the same.” Jamie offered him a tankard. Cullen refused it with a quick shake of his head. Jamie chuckled.

  “Ye had better watch out, Cullen. It looks like that lass has ye hooked.”

  Cullen scowled. “Can I no be angry because my name was dragged through the mud in this scheme?”

  “Aye, but that’s no the only reason ye want to run the man through. Ye were undressing the lass with yer eyes.”

  Cullen didn’t answer. Since he didn’t understand his thoughts on the matter there was no point in trying to explain anything to the king. “’Tis the truth that I thought her interesting when I met her. She denied me her name. Now I know why.”

  Cullen forgot the king for a moment as he considered just how satisfying it would be to have Bronwyn in his hands without her father and brothers around. She’d blushed for him. All their family issues aside, he’d sparked enough interest in her to turn her cheeks scarlet. Beneath his kilt, his cock stiffened.

  James waved his hand. “I dinna want to know what yer thinking. Just remember that murder is a high crime, man. Even I canna change that. Ye’ll have to find a way to deal with McQuade without running the man through. Yer free to leave court.”

  Cullen inclined his head toward his king before turning around.

  “I could order her father to place her at court.”

  Cullen turned in a swirl of kilt pleats. “Do not.” His voice cracked like a whip, full of emotions he didn’t understand beyond knowing that he wanted to deal with Bronwyn personally. The royal guards standing silently behind the king moved their eyes to stare at him now. Jamie only grinned.

  “Yer mighty defensive, lad. I’ve a mind to see what sort of daughter the man has raised.”

  With a shrug, Cullen returned the grin. “Since everyone seems to think I’ve already had the lass, maybe I should keep those wagging tongues from spreading lies for once. Providing ye have no objection to such a match.”

  The king’s face turned pensive. It was hard to tell what the man was thinking; he hid his emotions with the years of wearing a crown.

  “Have a safe journey, Cullen.”

  “Aye, yer Majesty.”

  The king lifted one finger. Cullen stood still, his breath freezing in his chest while he waited to hear his monarch’s decision.

  “Ye have my permission to wed the lass, providing she kneels at the altar of her own free will. She’s nae like her kin and I’ll nae see her forced to wed.”

  “But I have yer permission?”

  “Aye, and my blessing. But promise me ye will nae name yer first son after me. We’ve too many James in Scotland nowadays.”

  Nae like her kin…

  Well, that remained to be seen. Cullen ground his teeth as he covered the distance toward the doors. Fans opened and whispers rippled away from him like waves in a pond. His temper strained against his control, doubling his pace. One word made it clearly to his ears.

 
Blackguard…

  He snarled softly, his pride stung deeply.

  His honor demanded action now. McQuade had miscalculated if the man thought he might strike out without gaining McJames retaliation. The man had misjudged him greatly.

  A McJames never took disgrace without a fight. Cullen was going to make a struggle McQuade would never forget. He strode from the royal hall, determination fueling his stride. There was no more to think about.

  ’Twas time for action.

  “Yer daft.” Druce swirled the ale in his mug around for a long moment. “But I suppose ’tis my own fault for teasing ye about the lass.”

  “I met her.”

  Druce straightened up, surprise on his face. “Yer pulling me leg, lad. I dinna want to believe ye had her as her father said.”

  “I dinna have her.” His voice was rough, but he’d heard his honor questioned one too many times in a single day to keep his sense of humor. “But we spoke and her brothers caught us.” Cullen didn’t care for the look his cousin gave him. Thinking about having Bronwyn in his bed was not the same sin as doing it. “I havena touched her.”

  “Yet.” Druce was done teasing. There was no amusement lurking in his eyes now. The man was pure concentration, his mind considering the details of what needed doing.

  “Aye, yet.” He was no liar. Cullen stared straight back at his kin. He wanted her, wanted her enough to steal her. Maybe men talked about such things often, but he’d never truly thought he’d find himself wanting any woman enough to kidnap her. Applying his charm to the art of seduction, now that was more his style.

  “Is it just yer pride that is pushing ye to do what ye’ve been accused of, Cullen?”

  Druce asked a good question. One Cullen wasn’t sure about himself. There was only one thing he was sure of and that was that he was going to take Bronwyn or die in the trying.

  “There will be blood spilt for sure if ye take the lass.”