Highlander's Touch: Medieval Romance

by Joanne Wadsworth

  “That you cannae do when he’s clearly gone and gotten himself betrothed to another woman. Nay, when Ronan hunted me down, he never gave up on his pursuit until he’d captured me. So too, you must instigate the hunt with Coll and see if he makes chase. You’ll know the moment when the intricate strands of the mated bond begin taking form between you. It’s undeniable. You’ll be driven toward him, and he’ll be driven toward you, and since he’s now touched you as you’ve said, well, that’ll only make his chase of you even more intense.”

  “He allowed me to wed Matthew.” Aye, he’d never set chase after her back then, had in fact allowed her to escape him by leaving her first, although of course the circumstances surrounding that time in their lives had been difficult considering his and Kyla’s soon to be wedded state.

  “Aye, but will he allow you to escape him a second time once he learns you’re now free to wed him? I’m certainly no longer standing in your way, and that is the question you need to have answered. He most certainly does no’ love his bride-to-be. All Coll wishes to do in marrying her is to ensure our allied bond with clan MacRae is strengthened.” Kyla rose to her feet and motioned toward the stairwell. “Go and pack a bag and leave as quickly as you can. ’Tis time for the hunt to begin, and you need to extend your wings and fly, to force him into acknowledging the bond if it does in fact exist between you.”

  “You’re right.” She certainly wasn’t ready to let Coll go after all they’d shared last night. If a bond existed between them, then she was about to find out. She nodded at Kyla. “The hunt shall begin this very day.”

  * * * *

  Stretching in bed, Coll stirred from the incredible dream he’d saturated himself in during the night and cranked one eye open. Sunshine streamed through the window and he blinked against the vivid brightness and groaned. In no way was he ready for this new day.

  He heaved the fur covers over his head and eyes closed, brought the vivid and dreamy image of Fiona—completely naked and lying underneath him—back to glorious life. When he’d bounded from his bath last eve, he’d found her in his chamber with clear desire flaring in her eyes. He’d walked across to her, tipped her back and claimed their first kiss and hell, it had been an incredible kiss. Her mouth had softened under his then as he’d deepened his possession, she’d returned his passion and naught could have pleased him more.

  His illusion of her had been intense. She’d allowed him to strip her nightrail from her, to slide her into his bed and permit his touch. He’d sucked on her glorious nipples, stroked over her creamy flesh and even dipped his fingers inside her hot channel, and while he’d touched her, she’d trailed one finger over the head of his cock and made his balls clench so damn tight. His shaft had swelled to a throbbing peak and then she’d smiled, like a vixen, and he’d gotten completely lost. Together they’d come, soaring right into the heavens and for the first time in his life he’d finally felt complete, as if she was right where she belonged, with him and only him. A dream of course, which it always would be considering he’d walked away from her sixteen months ago.

  He’d allowed her to wed another man, and now he was set to wed another woman.

  A woman who’d be here before the end of the week, which meant he needed to get moving. His clansmen would be awaiting him and he had much to do this day, including a visit to Ardan House so he might meet his new sister-by-marriage. A smile returned to his lips. He certainly had no intention of keeping Duncan from his chosen one for any longer than necessary.

  He pushed the covers away and sent something white fluttering off the end of his bed. Scooping it up, he went ramrod straight. Was this a woman’s nightrail?

  Strange. That hadn’t been—wait—surely his encounter with—nay, his time with Fiona had surely been a dream. Aye, he’d been exhausted after almost an entire day riding in the saddle, but even so he’d never mistake the real Fiona for the illusion he’d created. He eyed the connecting door between his chamber and the next one.

  Nightrail in hand, he strode to it, hauled the door open and marched inside. Sunshine beamed in through the open window and shimmered across the thick burgundy bedcovers gracing the bed. Next to the corner dressing screen, a side table held a dish of bright hair ribbons and an ivory brush and comb. He snagged the brush and plucked a long strand of red hair from within its bristles. That shaft of hair definitely belonged to a woman, and ironically it was same long length as Fiona’s. Twining the length around one finger, he strode to the ambry and flung the burgundy curtain wide. The interior rail held a score of gowns, all neatly pressed in an array of deep colors, from forest-green to midnight blue and rich red. Fiona’s favorite colors, ones which always brought out the rosiness in her cheeks and made a stunning contrast against her pale skin.

  Ah hell. There had to be an answer for this.

  He lifted the soft cotton of the nightrail to his nose and breathed in the delicate scent of white roses. How had he missed that? ’Twas definitely Fiona’s scent, only if she was here, then why on earth was she here? And where was Matthew? He hadn’t noticed the man about the keep when he’d arrived last eve.

  Damn. If she hadn’t been an illusion and he’d actually touched her, while she was wed to another man, then Matthew had every right to slice his head from his shoulders, no matter their marriage was in name only. That made no difference. She was a taken woman.

  He tossed Fiona’s shift onto her bed since it was clearly hers and stormed back to this own room. From his trunk, he pulled out a clean pair of pants in a faded brown leather, donned them and a loose-sleeved white tunic. Feet stuffed into his leather boots, he belted his sword at his side and stalked to his side table.

  Splashing water from the jug into the basin, he muttered several unrepeatable words. What a right royal mess he’d now gotten himself into. Soap in hand, he built up a lather and slapped the suds on his jaw, gripped his dirk and scraped the stubble from his jaw.

  “Coll?” A knock rattled the door. “’Tis Duncan. We need to speak.”

  “Come in.” Aye, they most definitely needed to speak. Why hadn’t his brother warned him of Fiona and Matthew’s arrival?

  Duncan strode in and shut the door, his padded cotun slung over one shoulder and his blue trews fastened at his waist and black tunic open at the deep V. “We need to speak about Fiona.”

  “You’re damn right we do.” Another scrape of his blade, his anger at himself flaring higher. “I noticed she holds the connecting chamber to mine. Why is she here? And why the hell didnae you mention her arrival to me last eve?”

  “There wasnae time.”

  “You should have made time.” He splashed the remaining suds from his jaw and dabbed his chin dry with a cloth. Tossing it in the corner wicker basket, he snapped at his brother, “Tell me everything.”

  “Kyla, Ronan, and I brought Fiona back here safely from Rhue Castle, no’ long afore the Twelfth Night and Yule celebrations began. She’s been here for months.” Duncan leaned his backside against the windowsill, the long length of the inner channel of Loch Carron weaving into the forested distance beyond the window.

  “What of Matthew? Did you no’ bring him here too?”

  “I have bad news about Matthew.” Duncan scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I hate to tell you this, but unfortunately Matthew suffered a nick during a training session some months ago, the smallest arm wound, but it festered and he took a fever. He passed away.”

  “What? But Matthew was hearty and hale the last time I saw him at Rhue.” He’d also left implicit instructions with the three men he kept within Jeremiah’s stronghold that should anything happen to Fiona, to send word to him immediately. This constituted sending word.

  “I can assure you Matthew has perished.” Duncan pushed off the windowsill and gripped his shoulder. “If you’d known of his passing, I’ve no doubt you would’ve returned for her. I did what you would have done and brought her here where she’d be safe.”

  “Safe?” Such shock rocked through him, hi
s breath coming harder. “What did Jeremiah do to her?” Of all their clansmen, his younger half-brother had been the only one over the years who’d ever made her feel unsafe. He could get rough with the lasses when not watched, although he’d set Jeremiah straight a time or two about remaining well clear of Fiona. “If he touched her in any way, I’ll kill him.”

  “’Tis a long story, but suffice to say, Jeremiah forced Ronan and I to sail there after causing mayhem here at Carron, then after learning of Matthew’s passing while at Rhue, we brought her back with us. She feared for her life, Coll. I couldnae leave her there a day longer, no’ when Jeremiah wished to make her his leman.” Duncan growled under his breath. “She worried greatly that even should she say nay to him, he’d soon force her to his will. Knowing Jeremiah as I do, I didn’t doubt his intentions would be dishonorable. Kyla is so happy to have her near us again, and so am I. The four of us have always been so close, and Ella adores Fiona too. Being that we all hold fae blood, there is no better place for her than once again amongst us.”

  “She would be safest at Ardan House with you rather than here within my own walls.” He was to wed another woman, and if Fiona remained widowed and within his arm’s reach, he’d want to keep touching her. That he couldn’t do. He had his future wife to consider, as well as his entire clan. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, “Is she aware of my upcoming marriage?”

  “She is now. On my way to see you, I spoke to Kyla below-stairs and she informed me she’d spoken to Fiona about your upcoming nuptials.”

  “How did she take the news?” His heart clenched in on itself. Never would he have wished for Fiona to hear of his impending marriage vows from anyone other than him.

  “I didnae see her, thought it best I come and speak to you first.”

  “I need to find Fiona now.” He nabbed his black coat from the ambry and rushed out the door. He’d speak to her, right this second.

  “You seem so anxious.” Duncan followed him as he jogged down the passageway and took the stairs two at a time. “Why is that?”

  “I’ll explain soon.” He entered the great hall where a good hundred of his men sat in chattering groups at the trestle tables as they ate the midday meal. He’d missed a great portion of the day, had never arisen so late, but then he’d never been so exhausted. At the dais, Kyla set her goblet down and waved out.

  He stalked across to her, planted his hands on the table before her and tried to keep his voice even. “Duncan has informed me that Fiona is here and now resides with us.”

  “Aye, but she and I spoke this morn and now she’s gone.”

  “Gone?” He lost one very necessary heartbeat.

  “She returns to her father on Loch Alsh.”

  “What?” He lost a second and thumped his chest, his heartbeat pulsing right out of time.

  “She took the news of your betrothal hard and wished to leave. There is naught I could do to stop her.” Kyla settled one hand on his arm. “She told me about what happened between the two of you last eve. That you touched each other.”

  “You and Fiona touched?” Duncan stared at him with wide eyes and mouth agape. “Why did you no’ tell me?”

  “I would have soon.” He heaved his gaze back to Kyla. “Which guardsman did she take with her?”

  “I’m unsure if she took a guardsman, only that she rides as far as the village beyond Ardan House, then hoped to cross the mountains on foot. She intended on asking the village stable master to have your animal returned to you as soon as possible.” Kyla’s gaze softened. “Do you sense the need to chase her? Because if you do, you should ride out as well.”

  All he sensed was painfully deep anger, and mostly directed at himself. She’d left him, never given him the chance to explain his actions. She must hate him for what he’d done by touching her so freely. He certainly hated himself.

  “Do you, Coll?” Kyla stared at him. “Wish to chase her that is?”

  “Provided she’s taken a guard, there’s no need for me to follow her to her father’s home.” His future was here, with a lass named Elizabeth MacRae, not with the woman he’d given up sixteen months ago. Only, everything within him recoiled at that thought.

  * * * *

  With her black cloak flapping back from her shoulders and red velvet skirts plastered to her legs, Fiona bent low over her horse’s back as she rode the high cliff side trail between Carron Castle and Ardan House. The forest rose high on her right, the towering pine trees swaying in the brisk breeze, while to her left the cliff fell sharply away and the churning waters of the loch crashed hard into the black rock wall and misted high.

  The hunt had begun, and now ’twas time to see if a bond had formed between her and Coll.

  She certainly wanted him to stake his claim and come after her.

  With her mare’s reins firm in hand, she slapped her knees harder into the animal’s flanks and quickened her already fast pace. She jumped jutting tree roots and ducked under the odd low branch, the satchel she’d packed with some necessities bumping about on her back. Pine needles scraped her arm, and the cool wind nipped at her nose.

  She rode on, until she finally neared Ardan House, although before she could be seen by Duncan’s guardsmen on duty, she brought her horse to a halt at the top of the winding trail that veered steeply downward toward his stronghold. Below, the castle sat at the edge of a secluded bay along the loch, its gray fortified walls rising high with a two-story gatehouse built to the right of the main arched gates. This keep stood as strong and secure as Carron Castle did, while two days’ ride to the south, Colin MacKenzie’s stronghold sat at the gateway to their MacKenzie land on Loch Alsh. There, she’d find her father, not that she wished to find him. Nay, she wished for Coll to catch up with her first.

  Although no stopping for now. She had to make certain the hunt would be good.

  She turned away and urged her horse onward along the wooded trail toward the village where she’d be able to safely leave Coll’s horse with the stable master to have the animal returned to him. One could cross the mountainous plateau by horse, but ’twas best done on foot considering the sheer ruggedness of the land.

  Determination spurred her on and she hugged her horse’s neck as she rode.

  Chapter 3

  Coll stormed through the bailey and out the postern gate, such unease rolling through him. Over a hundred of his men already trained along the shoreline near the meadow leading to the forest, dust swirling into the air as they battled, their swords clanging and fierce grunts ricocheting toward him.

  “I take it we’re riding out as well?” Duncan questioned from beside him.

  “Nay, I simply need to check she took a guardsman with her.”

  “So, you’ve touched her, hmm?” A glint of intense interest flickered in his brother’s eyes.

  “What of it?”

  “When I first sensed the mated bond forming between Ella and I, she enforced the hunt in her determination to ensure I saw the truth about our bond taking form. You and I never had the benefit of living within the Matheson fae village, never saw firsthand how deep and all-consuming the bond could be.”

  “What are you trying to say?” The wind whisked his hair about his neck, the soft touch as gentle as Fiona’s fingers had been on his skin last eve.

  “You’ve never been able to abide the touch of another woman, just as I never have.”

  “Again, your point is?”

  “When two are mated, ’tis their touch alone and no other’s which we can allow. Might I ask if you enjoyed touching Fiona last eve?”

  “I allowed her to wed Matthew, simply rode away knowing it would happen. That isnae something any man would do with his chosen one. Even I’m aware of that.” Nay, no bond existed between them, and of that he was certain. Up ahead, a lanky-legged lad in loosely belted pants brushed down a sleek brown war horse before the stables, while another lad saddled a destrier for the guardsman awaiting his mount. The warrior thanked the lad with a nod, mounted his steed a
nd galloped into the forest.

  “I was so wary at first of giving Ella my trust,” Duncan continued as they walked, “of allowing her to learn exactly who I was and that I held fae blood, but she knew we were soul bound and within a short time I couldnae deny that bond either. What if Fiona is your mate?”

  “I must seal my alliance with the MacRae. ’Tis my duty to ensure our clan survives and thrives.” Scrubbing a hand over his nape, his fear for Fiona rose stronger and pulsed through him. No matter Duncan had worked hard to keep their land clear of their enemy while he’d been away, they could still slink in and he’d allowed Fiona to escape him and never should have. She better damn well have taken a guard. Surely none of his men here would have allowed her to leave without first ensuring one of them rode out with her.

  “I can see the fear in your eyes.” Duncan squeezed his shoulder. “We’ll find her and you’ll make things right.”

  “The only right thing for me is to remain here.” He stepped up to the stable lad and muttered, “Mistress Fiona rode out this morn. Which guard did she take with her?”

  “None, my laird. She took the trail between here and Ardan and knows the way well. ’Tis safe.”

  “She rides farther than Ardan this day.”

  “She didnae say so.” Fear rippled within the lad’s eyes. “Are ye certain?”

  “Very, and in the future”—he gritted his teeth—“you’ll never allow her to leave without first ensuring she has a guard with her, no matter where she rides to. Saddle my destrier and my brother’s as well. Be quick about it, lad. We need to leave with all haste.”

  “Aye, right away.” The lad whistled out to another boy and the two scurried inside the stables.

  Impatient, Coll paced the cliff top. He wouldn’t consider the danger she’d now put herself in, because if he did, he’d surely lose it. A seagull soared overhead, circled then dove into the tumbling waters of the loch. It squawked as it heaved back out of the rolling surf with a fish flapping from its beak. Another seagull gave chase and the first landed on the rocks, guarding its catch and hissing at the second bird wishing to steal its plunder. That was how he felt right now, as if he needed to catch and guard his plunder. He shook his head of the unhelpful thought.