Never Kiss a Highlander

by Michele Sinclair

  Mairead stepped into view. She had finished tying one side of her bliaut and was working on the other. “What do you mean? Was there a delay? When do you expect them to arrive?”

  Hamish crossed his arms and peered down at Mairead’s expectant expression. He forced himself to focus on their conversation and not on her lips. “There is no delay. There are no men. And there will be no men. Robert only asked for me and so only I came,” he replied simply.

  “You’re serious,” Mairead whispered, feeling like someone had just punched her in the stomach. “I just assumed you knew about Ulrick. That he was the real reason you made the journey. I must tell you ab—”

  Hamish put up his hand to stop her. “I know about Ulrick and he is the real reason why I’m here.”

  Mairead furrowed her brow and began tying off the last string on her bliaut. Once done, she threw her hands in the air. “I thought . . . I had heard . . .”

  “Heard what?”

  Mairead took a deep breath and then exhaled. “We were to understand you and Laird McTiernay were fairly close. So I had assumed he would offer men to come with you, especially if you knew of our situation.”

  “I know enough and Conor did offer.”

  Relief spread through Mairead. All hope was not lost. “Then you can send word—”

  Hamish shook his head, cutting her off. “I told him no and I have no intentions of changing my mind.” He held her gaze for several seconds, his own dark green eyes devoid of humor. The sudden absence of his easygoing demeanor sent a shiver up her spine. “Now that you are dressed and no longer are in any danger of being caught unawares, I’m going to take my bath. You are welcome to stay and be my chaperone, but I’ll understand if you have other things to which you must attend.”

  He saw her jaw tightened and knew by her silent reaction that he had hit a nerve. Mo chreach was Mairead breathtaking when she was angry.

  The green in her hazel eyes blazed. Her back straightened, which created a rigidity of her shoulders that accentuated her already enticing figure. The effect was making her damn near irresistible. For a second, he feared she might actually call his bluff and stay. But without another word, she just turned and walked proudly out the door just as the last vessels of his composure slipped away.

  He wondered if she knew just how close she had come to being thoroughly kissed.

  * * *

  “Rab, it’s time for you to go find your mother or Noma. I need a few minutes to talk to your uncle alone.”

  The young boy stared for a moment at his father, who was lying propped up on pillows in bed before leaving to seek his nursemaid. Though Rab was only five years old, the resemblance between father and son was unmistakable. Rab had the MacBrieve dark auburn hair and while it was hard to make out what his physique would someday be, his thin frame hinted that he would be tall and lean. Rab also had Robert’s high forehead, dark thick lashes around much paler green eyes, and round cheeks, all proving which MacBrieve brother was Rab’s father.

  Robert started to cough forcing him to sit up for a second. When done, he slumped back against his pillows and massaged his temples. “I’m so sorry to be receiving you like this. It is not how I planned to welcome you home,” he said apologetically for the fourth time since Hamish had entered the room.

  “Think on it no more. Good company and food can be enjoyed in any setting,” Hamish said, studying his brother as he continued to sit in a chair several feet away.

  “I admit to feeling awful, but I come down with this illness around this time every year and it is more of an annoyance than anything. I can’t breathe, I’m constantly sniffling making me sound as pitiful as I look, and this damn cough—” Robert’s explanation was cut off by another short spasm.

  Hamish was very familiar with the aggravation of his brother’s plight, having experienced something similar a few years ago. It had taken about a week for his head to stop feeling like it weighed as much as a boulder and for him to finally breathe again, but the respite was slight. For it was followed by nonstop sniffling and a sore throat exacerbated by constant coughing. And while Robert was right that the illness was typically not life-threatening and just highly uncomfortable, it was not always so. Hamish had heard of it lingering in some people’s lungs and the result then was almost always fatal.

  “You have a fine son, though I think I scare him. He has hardly said two words in my presence.”

  Robert leaned back again and managed a smile. “He’s shy and is constantly assessing all he sees, but once he becomes comfortable with you he will ask so many questions, your mind will spin.”

  “So he’s like you in temperament as well as in looks.”

  Robert returned Hamish’s smile. “Aye. It is strange to see a miniature version of yourself. He has even begun taking things apart, though he has yet to figure out that he must also learn how to put them back together.” Robert took the cloth in his left hand and ran it against his very red nose. “I hope you have a passel of sons yourself someday. Though I am surprised you do not have them already.”

  Hamish quirked an eyebrow. “I actually like my freedom, but that doesn’t mean I am against the idea of someday knowing what it is like to be a father. Meanwhile, I’m glad you and Selah are truly happy.”

  Surprisingly, Hamish was being completely honest, for seeing Selah and Robert together at dinner had not been the emotional hardship he envisioned it would be. Whatever feelings he had had for Selah had long since died, and in their place was not animosity but ease and acceptance.

  “Selah looks well,” Hamish added, “and you have a fine son. Things worked out as they were meant to.”

  Born with all the features of a classic beauty, Selah was the lovely and sweet-natured woman he remembered. Robert on the other hand looked much older and Hamish could see the results of stress that came with leading a clan.

  Selah had refused to let Robert leave the warmth of his rooms in the keep, but neither did she want to deprive her husband of participating in welcoming his older brother home. As a compromise, they had all agreed to have dinner in Robert’s dayroom with him.

  Mairead had been late joining them and avoided making eye contact for almost the whole meal. She had pointedly chatted with Selah about various situations of the castle—including the need to make changes to the kitchen staff.

  Hamish was glad someone recognized that the quality of the meal was significantly lacking. The bread was unusually hard and he personally had prepared more tasty meat using a stick and a campfire. But Selah had ended any discussion about replacing one or two of the more uncooperative cooks almost as soon as it began. The concept of dismissing those not doing their job satisfactorily was repugnant to her. She worried for their families and refused to threaten their livelihoods.

  Thankfully, about this time Robert announced his energy had depleted to the point he needed to lie back down. Taking advantage of the opportunity to escape the ongoing argument between the women, Hamish had quickly suggested he join him. Robert had readily agreed and nudged his son to stay with his mother.

  Now that it was just the two of them, this was the first chance Hamish had to converse with his brother alone. Suddenly the distance created by the last twelve years could be felt once more.

  “Why?” Robert asked, looking Hamish directly in the eye.

  Hamish leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. He was not going to pretend he did not understand the question. “Though I admit to being cross with fate for a while, I never was angry with you or Selah. But you had to understand why I could not stay.”

  “Aye,” Robert acknowledged wearily. “I understood. But not why it had to be for so long.”

  Hamish sat back up and clenched his jaw. “There was no reason for me to return.”

  “Father’s funeral was not a reason?”

  “He was dead, Robert. He would have had no knowledge of my being there or not. You had become laird and I did not want anyone to question your right to being chieftain.”


  “What about later? My other entreaties to come?”

  Hamish scoffed. “Entreaties? Did you forget that I damn near killed one of your men who actually thought he could physically force me to return with him?”

  Robert closed his eyes and sighed. “He admitted to being a little overzealous. I unwisely asked to bring you with him by any means possible.”

  “He was a fool.”

  “I’m sure in your eyes he was one. But he was trying to honor my request.”

  Hamish took in a deep breath, tempted to call his brother a fool as well. He probably should wait to bring up his brother’s latest request until Robert was feeling better, but delaying the inevitable would change nothing. “What were you thinking when you let Ulrick leave with most of your men?”

  His brother waved a hand dismissively. “I had my reasons and I still believe they were good ones.”

  “If you think that I’m here to take Ulrick’s place,” Hamish cautioned, shaking his head, “you are mistaken.”

  Robert laughed, but only for a second before it changed to a hacking cough. When it subsided, he leaned back against his pillows once again and sighed. “I would welcome you here by my side, leading the men, being my permanent commander, but after twelve years of your not wanting to be in my presence for even a visit, I am not under any delusion that you are here to accept such an offer.”

  Hamish eyed his younger brother thoughtfully. “Not permanent, maybe, but don’t deny you are seeking my help in the interim as commander.”

  Robert sniffled and grunted as he wiped his nose again. “I do and I am not above using my sickness to help persuade you of my need. But I promise I understand its temporary nature.”

  Hamish pursed his lips. “Is that all or is there more you want from me? Because I suspect you need help in removing the commander you currently have.”

  His brother nodded solemnly and closed his eyes. “Ulrick is a problem. I thought making him commander would suffice his need to be in control. Unfortunately, he does not work well with people.” He opened his eyes again and held Hamish’s gaze. “You must know that I am disinclined to send any man or woman away from Foinaven, but it is time for Ulrick to find a new home. It would be better not just for us, but for him.”

  Hamish arched a brow in surprise. “Ulrick does not merely want control, Robert. He longs for power. He seeks to replace you, not a home.”

  “You cannot know that.”

  Hamish’s eyes became wide and he bobbed his head. “I don’t just know that . . . everyone around you does! All but you can see Ulrick’s intentions. How can you not accept that?”

  “By offering a man the opportunity to change, there is the chance he can and will. Condemning him allows no flexibility. No hope. I don’t want to teach Rab to look for the ill in people because he will always find it. It takes effort to find and nurture the good.”

  “Then I should leave now. I know Ulrick too well to waste my time looking for the good in him. What good there was disappeared long ago leaving only his desire for personal gain.”

  “That is the reason why I asked you to come and why you must stay. You understand Ulrick. Therefore, you can negotiate with him,” Robert countered, just before another coughing attack.

  Negotiate? Hamish had to have heard wrong. “I am not a negotiator.”

  “Damn cough,” Robert muttered when it finally subsided. “You could be and Ulrick will only respond to one of his kind,” Robert continued. “Someone he sees as an equal. He will talk with you.”

  Hamish fought the compulsion to drop his jaw and just stare at his younger brother. Robert had changed in the past twelve years, but not in the way Hamish hoped. Becoming responsible for lives had made his brother even more of a peacekeeper.

  Robert still did not recognize that it was more dangerous and more of a folly to overlook or discount the threat some people pose. His brother had always believed there was good in everyone. Hamish did too, but that did not change the fact that for many people, the enticement of personal gain outweighed the common good. A good leader recognized with whom and how to exploit that trait so that not just the individual, but all could benefit. A good leader also knew how to identify those few who would never be satisfied. The ones who always wanted more and would be ruthless in getting it. Negotiation did not stop people like Ulrick. Only a show of greater force could trigger their survival instinct and get them to stand down.

  “I’m not sure that I can be the commander you want. You and I see things too differently.”

  “I know we do, but you still came. So you must believe as I do that Ulrick needs to be handled.”

  Hamish stood quietly for a moment. What little strength Robert had at the beginning of their conversation was nearly depleted. “If I stay, I will act as I think best.”

  Robert nodded. “That is all I am asking and I agree to let you handle the situation as you wish.”

  Hamish felt twenty pounds had lifted from his shoulders. “Then I will help you handle Ulrick when he returns.”

  Robert’s body relaxed and he managed a smile without coughing. “Thank you. All I ask is that we do so peacefully, without bloodsh—”

  This time it was not a cough cutting his brother off, but a sharp, angry shout from down the corridor. Hamish decided it was probably for the best that their conversation came to a temporary conclusion. His brother wanted a plan that involved no bloodshed. It was something Hamish desired as well, but it would be up to Ulrick to decide whether blood would be spilled. Not Hamish . . . and not Robert.

  Meanwhile, Hamish had addressed the most immediate concerns. He would stay at Foinaven as commander only temporarily and then help banish Ulrick upon his return.

  He only had to negotiate with his brother as to how.

  * * *

  “I would lower your voice,” Selah suggested calmly. “For if you wake Rab, it will not be I or even Noma who goes in and deals with him until he falls back to sleep.”

  Mairead studied her sister’s quiet demeanor and knew that she was not bluffing. Rab was a good little boy, but his mind was fast and it never stopped when awake. One could put him to bed, but unless someone was with him to ensure he stayed there, he would rise and find something to keep his mind occupied. Sleep only seemed to overtake him at the point of exhaustion and not before. If he woke now, his energy would be restored enough that it would be some time before he fell back to sleep.

  “I never would have asked you why you were so quiet at dinner if I had known it would upset you. I would rather have remained curious,” Selah said, and moved to sit on one of the chairs near the hearth.

  The dayroom was centrally connected on the floor with easy access to her and Robert’s bedchambers as well as her son’s. It was not a large room, but its size made it easy to heat, making it Selah’s favorite place to talk or even be alone. Mairead liked the room as well, but she preferred the great hall. It was where her memories of her father were the strongest. He used to sit by the fire and let flames calm his thoughts as she sat relaxed against him.

  “I’m more than upset,” Mairead grumbled, and began to pace once more, “and you should be too! I was bathing!”

  “You said that before,” Selah replied as she reached over to pick up a small piece of needlework she used to practice designs before creating them on a large tapestry. “You were in the kitchens covered in mud.”

  Mairead opened and closed her mouth twice at her sister’s nonchalant reaction to all that she had said. “I cannot fathom your reaction right now. Unless rallying to my defense would reveal Hamish’s return is troubling you far more than you want anyone to believe.”

  For the first time, Selah showed her own mounting frustration and put the cloth down in her lap and raised her eyes. “I’m not sure what you want me to say, Mairead. You act as if I should be outraged, but you have already assured me that nothing dishonorable happened. If anything, Hamish acted as what he claimed to be—your protector. And you certainly needed one
bathing in the kitchens where anyone could have walked in.”

  “You are deliberately misunderstanding what I am telling you.”

  “Trust me, it is not deliberate,” Selah mumbled. “It is you who refuse to tell me what truly has you so upset.”

  Mairead paused and stared at the flames in the hearth. Her sister was right. She had been mad about Hamish refusing to leave, but that had nothing to do with her current angst. “Hamish is no longer the same person he was, Selah.”

  “None of us are, dear. Can you imagine how different you are to him? When he left you were ten and far less easily agitated.”

  “You should have heard him. I’ve never heard anyone so excessively arrogant.”

  Selah stopped her stitching and gathered her thoughts. “Remember when Robert was overseeing the construction of the corner towers? Everyone thought him so conceited, but they were just not used to working with a master builder who had reason to be so self-confident. I suspect that like Robert and masonry, Hamish knows what he is doing when it comes to Ulrick.”

  Mairead’s eyes snapped to Selah’s, but her sister did not flinch. “He came alone.”

  “Aye,” Selah replied, “but he did come.”

  “But why did he not bring any men to help us?”

  “I’ll admit to assuming he would bring men with him, but Robert and I do not see how this is an issue. We do not need additional men. Plenty remained here to guard our gates and help those who need it, especially now that Hamish is here to assist them.”

  Mairead glared at Selah, unable to believe what she was hearing.

  Selah was shocked by the intensity of her younger sister’s gaze. Putting aside her needlework, she rose to her feet and placed a comforting hand on Mairead’s arm. “Is that what has you so upset? That he came alone? I promise there will be other chances to meet eligible men.”

  Mairead closed her eyes. How could she say that she had no desire to marry when a man was exactly what she had been hoping to find? “Hamish may be huge and strong and the best warrior in all of Scotland, but he alone will not persuade Ulrick to leave Foinaven. It will require a show of force, an army sizeable and skilled enough to engage Ulrick when he returns.”