Hamish stared at his younger brother, completely appalled at what he was hearing. Robert was going to give up though he was in a position of strength rather than risk having to fight.
Twelve years ago, Hamish had done the honorable thing and left. Mairead had convinced him that this time his honor required him to stay. Had she known it would come to this? Possibly. Did it matter? No. Because she was right.
Robert was a good man and Hamish loved him, but he had no more right pretending to be a laird than Hamish had at professing to be a master mason. If his brother wanted to build and fix and create, then that is what he should be doing. But no longer was Hamish going to watch him destroy and endanger those around him.
“I want to speak to the laird!” Ulrick bellowed again in an effort to needle Hamish.
Hamish signaled Davros. “Shoot him in the shoulder. Everyone else, make sure those men down there understand the disadvantage they are currently in.”
Before Ulrick could register the order, something whizzed through the air. He cried out and the crowd started murmuring. In each hole, an arrow appeared, and in the dim light it was impossible for them to see exactly who was being targeted.
Ulrick stood back up and yanked the arrow from his shoulder. He had been injured on the battlefield before. Any pain that was not lethal could be compartmentalized and temporarily dismissed. “Robert, best kill me now or I promise I will kill you and take your place later.”
“Killing Robert will gain you nothing, Ulrick. He is not the MacBrieve laird. He never was. That title goes to the firstborn MacBrieve and unfortunately for you, he just decided he wants to assume his birthright.”
A deep, scraggly voice cried out. “You aren’t going to kill us any more than your brother was willing to.”
Hamish caught the attention of one of the mercenaries who had almost decided to leave when it became known that McTiernays might be involved. “Ulrick is right. I am not a McTiernay.” Hamish’s voice had lost all its playfulness as well as all its anger and in its place was something cold, menacing, and full of promise. “But I do consider Conor McTiernay a close friend, and in a way, family, like an older brother. I’ve been one of his elite guardsmen for years and during that time, he taught me much about fighting . . . and, well, obviously strategy.”
A growling voice of another man called out. “I’ve heard of you McTiernays. And if this is how they fight, then they are cowards.”
Hamish flicked his wrist and a second later an arrow was lodged in the man’s throat.
Hamish waited until it became quiet again. “I do not need to fight in hand-to-hand combat to prove my honor. Something that man would have known if he had allowed me to finish, for I was about to explain that Conor also taught me how to win. Hopefully, you all now realize that I am more than willing to apply everything I learned from the McTiernays against those who oppose me, threaten my clan, or endanger my wife, Mairead.”
Ulrick’s head snapped up and if possible the fury in his eyes grew to new levels. Mairead was his. His! And she knew what would happen if she tried to avoid him through marriage. And the malevolent look that Hamish was sending him made it clear that he too was fully aware of Ulrick’s threat.
“In a moment, I’m going to open the tower door and let you out one at a time. Be prepared to hand over your weapons. Refuse and you will end up like your comrade with an arrow in your throat.”
Ulrick shifted so that a dozen men had exited the tower before he took his turn. And again, he was surprised to find that Hamish had been prepared for the tunnel approach not to work. The courtyard was filling with soldiers. Only a few he recognized from being forced out of his guard, but all of them looked comfortable holding a weapon. And there were more coming out of the kitchens, the keep, even the stables. They just kept coming.
Ulrick suspected he still had the numbers, but more than half of his men had no battle experience and were from the original Foinaven guard. It mattered little now. His current attention needed to be on getting out of this alive.
Hamish had just proved he was willing to kill, and yet he had not yet killed him.
Why?
* * *
Robert filled his mug once more with ale and raised it to the small group of men in front of him. “I saw it. I was there, but I still cannot believe it worked.”
Davros swallowed a large gulp and sent a questioning look to Hamish. “I still cannot believe Hamish named Amon his commander.” Amon gave the wily falconer a withering glance that both knew was only in jest. “Just know that is because he knew I would not accept.”
Amon laughed. He could not help himself. “I cannot believe Hamish gave them their weapons back,” he drawled, referring to the mercenaries.
Despite their large numbers, it had not taken long to disperse Ulrick’s fickle group of would-be, power-hungry raiders. Every mercenary had taken the option to get their weapons and their horse and leave, never to return. One of the Kyldoanes was following them, but he had already sent word that they looked to be true to their word. All were leaving and none looked like they had any intentions of returning.
Almost all the guard who had followed Ulrick had no real particular loyalty to him. They had just wanted to avoid being on the wrong side of the man when he took over Foinaven. Once it was clear that was not going to happen, their allegiances had quickly shifted to Hamish. However, a quick promise was not enough to be trusted as a guard. All lost their weapons and most their mounts, as the horses had been provided by Ulrick with MacBrieve money. But they had been allowed to return unharmed to their families with three messages.
Leadership had changed. Hamish was now laird. Expectations would be higher, demands would be greater, but in return they would have a leader who understood their needs, respected their skills and their sacrifices, and was willing to make those same sacrifices for them. That announcement had brought cheers, even from those who had just hours before been intent on helping Ulrick take over Foinaven.
The second message had been a surprise. The new MacBrieve laird was no longer going to offer support with very little expected in return. Loyalty would be assured for at least one male member of each family had to devote a minimum of one day a week to the guard and learn how to master one or more weapons. The murmurings on this point indicated there was not much dissention. Jaime and the others who had joined Hamish’s guard had been spreading the news of just how good and just how different this army would be. Several families with multiple eligible sons were arguing over which one of them would serve.
It had only been a few hours, but the feedback on Hamish’s third and most solemn message was not as positive. No longer was Foinaven going to be a safe haven for a motley assortment of clans. Hamish’s promised support and provided protection would only be for those who swore an allegiance to Hamish and accepted the MacBrieve name. Those who refused had to leave by spring.
The men and women affected had no issues with living near and among MacBrieves, but those who did not already have the name did not want it. They did not see themselves as tinkers and masons or even judges like those from the original line of MacBrieves on the Isle of Lewis.
Hamish understood their viewpoint, but it did not change his decision. He refused to lead a community like Robert had done. As laird, he intended to oversee a single clan and if possible, help it grow into a powerful one that would be respected and feared as much as the McTiernays.
Amon clapped Robert on the back. “Of course Hamish’s plan worked! It was brilliant! The only tricky part was getting Ulrick and his men off their horses and so riled up that they charged through the gates, not paying attention to what they were charging into. Once that happened, the result was inevitable.”
Robert shoved Amon’s hand away, his expression smug. “Not that plan. My plan.”
“And what plan was that?” Ian Kyldoane asked. He was the only fair-haired man in the group and he and his younger brothers resembled the Vikings who had invaded Scotland hundreds of years bef
ore. He was quiet, but when he spoke it always cut right through to the matter. And he was the best tracker Hamish had ever seen.
When he and Hamish had first met, Ian had known Hamish was coming long before he came into view and had laid a trap. Because of Mairead, the trap had not been deadly, but it almost had ensnared them both. But Hamish had not only seen and avoided it, he had done so without alerting Mairead to its existence. Both men had impressed each other that day and their mutual respect had only grown in the days since.
Ian had refused to join the cause and support the continuation of Robert’s leadership, but he had vowed to do whatever was needed to keep Mairead safe, if necessary. He was glad it had not been necessary, but nevertheless, he still had procured a promise that Hamish would come to his aid if he ever needed it. That vow just became even more powerful, for Hamish was not a guard for the McTiernays. Today, he had become a laird.
Amon nudged Robert. “Do tell us. What part of this plan of yours worked so well?”
Robert waited until he had Hamish’s attention and then with a knowing nod answered in a low voice, “The whole damn thing.”
He had Hamish’s full attention now.
Neither brother had had a chance to talk privately about what had happened earlier that day. Hamish was not sure what he would say when he did. He just knew that if it were all to happen again, he would make the same decision. It was the right one and he would not apologize for it.
“It was what I wanted, Hamish.” Robert’s voice was low and calm. “It was what I’ve always wanted. I never wanted to be laird,” he added, confirming that he had guessed what Hamish was thinking. “But you wouldn’t come home. You refused to return and assume your birthright. And when I finally did force your hand after twelve years, you made it clear during our first meeting that you thought being laird was something I was proud of and wanted to be. Simply telling you the truth would not have worked. You would have believed it an attempt at reconciliation or worse, a desperate ploy to force you to stay.”
The lively room had grown quiet. Hamish’s expression had turned cold as he digested everything Robert was saying. His brother was right, but it infuriated him to know he had been manipulated. His great plan had actually been only a component of his brother’s larger one. He was not the great strategist. Robert was. “And Mairead? Was she part of this plan of yours?” he spat out softly.
Robert shook his head. He was unfazed by Hamish’s anger and had even expected it. But Hamish needed to know the truth. “Only Selah knew what I had in mind, for she, just as much as I, wanted to be free of Foinaven and its burden.”
The teeth in Hamish’s jaw ground together. “What about our marriage?”
Again Robert shook his head. “You surprised us on that one. Our main concern was Mairead’s welfare, but we knew that you would ensure her protection, even if the rest of my plan failed and you left Foinaven—especially once you knew the particulars.” Robert knew they had an audience and suspected that Hamish had only confided in Ian the level to which Ulrick had been threatening Mairead. A door opened behind him and he heard several footsteps approach, but he ignored them. “But you and she falling in love? Not even you could have predicted that.”
Selah’s hand slid over Robert’s shoulder and she bent down to give him a brief kiss. “I did. I recognized it from nearly the beginning.”
Mairead, who had also entered along with Jeán, Lynnea, and Tyra, Ian’s wife, stopped beside Hamish. Her body, which had already been tense, went rigid. She glared at her older sister. “You did not!”
Robert inclined his head and with a wince said, “Aye, she did. And when I saw you fight that night, I knew she was right.”
“You said that it was obvious there was nothing between us.” Hamish remembered it vividly.
“No,” Robert corrected. “I said that I was satisfied.”
Selah sat down beside Robert and clasped his hand in hers. “I know that you are angry with us. I just told Mairead what we did and she is furious right now.”
Mairead sucked in a sharp breath and looked at the men in the room. All were quiet. Hamish had yet to say a word since she had entered the room, but she could feel the anger rolling off him in waves. “You made fools out of us.”
Hamish snaked a long arm around her waist. For some inexplicable reason, Mairead’s anger helped quell his own. Robert, however, was indignant at the accusation. “We did not!” His voice was firm and allowed for no argument. “I never manipulated either of you. The only time I came close was when you both refused to realize you should be married, and that was not done through veiled attempts but only pressure.” Robert’s gaze bored into Hamish’s. “You were brought here not under a false pretense, but an accurate one. You made the decision to stay, no one forced it upon you. I only kept quiet about my own motivations and much of that was because I did not want it to be a factor in your decision. I never wanted you to think that you did not have a choice. You and everyone here know that you chose to be laird. It was not thrust upon you begrudgingly. You have earned their trust and loyalty as well as mine. Not for just what you did today, by saving my family and Selah’s home, but for what you did twelve years ago. You were the honorable man then; I just wanted the chance to be that in return.”
One by one Hamish captured the eyes of each person in the room and saw no pity reflected in them. What shined in their depths was respect, admiration, and a hint of fear that all their hopes were in jeopardy. He shifted his gaze to Mairead, who despite Robert’s eloquent speech was still angry. But he knew now it was mainly for him. She feared that he would think less of what he accomplished, and for a moment, he had.
“What would you change?” he asked her softly, and pulled her onto his lap.
“What?” Mairead was befuddled. She knew Hamish would be even more furious than she was at learning Robert and Selah’s grand scheme. And yet he no longer seemed even mildly upset.
“Because I would change nothing.” Then in front of everyone he kissed her.
“You stop that right now!” Selah jolted out of Robert’s lap and went to grab her younger sister. “There is at least an hour before the sun sets and we have not just Candlemas to prepare for, but your wedding. We may not have a priest so it will still have to be a handfast ceremony, but this time there will be witnesses!”
Mairead fought unsuccessfully to avoid being pulled out of Hamish’s embrace. She glared at Selah, but with exasperation. “Tell her, Hamish. Tell her that it is unnecessary and that you don’t want this!”
“But I do want it.” Hamish grinned, flashing his dimples.
* * *
Several hours later, after much merriment, drink, and food, Hamish swept up his newly announced wife in his arms and carried her to the top floor of the keep. And there in the solar that had been cleaned and prepared for them, he brought her pleasure over and over again.
With Ulrick’s arrival no longer looming over their shoulders, Mairead had responded with complete abandon. In return, he had completely let go of his fevered need, trusting in what he had found in her.
Mairead lay on her side and slowly slid her hand down Hamish’s chest then stomach, then lower. She felt fully satiated and yet she was not ready to roll over and fall asleep. Hamish had brought her to new heights and she was determined to see him just as out of control as she had been.
Hamish had released himself quite powerfully and thought himself incapable of responding to her touch, but he was wrong. “Damn,” he said through clenched teeth.
Mairead lifted her head and saw that Hamish’s jaw had gone tight and fierce need blazed up at her. With a wicked smile, she pushed against his chest and crawled onto him. Straddling his thighs, she traced his lips with her tongue before easing into his mouth, seducing him, rekindling his need for her.
When she felt one of his hands sink into her hair, pulling her against him to deepen the kiss, she pulled back, but only just slightly. Slowly she let her mouth trail down his neck, then chest, and pa
used to nip his navel. She could feel him tighten with anticipation as she let her fingers once again caress his growing erection.
Hamish reveled in the soft brush of her hair against his skin, which was followed by the moist heat of her breath. She withdrew and for a long moment he thought he would go mad with anticipation. And then he felt it, the searing heat of her tongue licking him from root to tip.
Hamish lay there unable to do anything more than grip the blankets in both his hands. Fear was choking him, fear and an almost intolerable desire as her mouth tortured him with sensations. He had given her his heart, and his body, but now she was asking for something more.
A moan erupted from somewhere deep within him as she took him fully inside her mouth. That she was new to this made him feel even more possessive of her than he already was. He thought he would die from the pleasure if she continued and die from the lack of it if she did not. He had lost control before in her arms, but it was nothing like this. Here she had all the power. He was completely at her mercy.
Being in charge was a whole new experience for Mairead and she found herself loving the fact that she was the reason behind the constant shuddering that rippled through him. It encouraged her to continue. She gripped the base of his length with one hand and slowly stroked up and down until she felt Hamish’s hands tangle into her hair. Unable to stop himself, he began to thrust. “Ó dhìol, Mairead! You’re killing me.”
Mairead moved faster, weakening him, torturing him, just as he had always done to her. She knew he was desperately trying to regain some sort of control, but his sensual agony only encouraged her to continue.
Abruptly Hamish pushed her away. “No more,” he cried out, and in a deft maneuver flipped her over and onto her back. Before Mairead had time to do anything other than open her eyes, he slammed into her. She arched forward and met it and the one thrust that followed. He began to take her so hard and fast that Mairead could do nothing but wrap her arms and legs around him and hold on.
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