Darach’s heart stilled. “Aye, lass. But you were unconscious for most of it, were you not?”
“Aye. But they dragged me along, and the laird hit me about the head. ’Twas not a pleasant experience. But if it led me to the MacKenzies, ’tis a blessing in disguise.” Her arms covered Darach’s as they held her around her middle, and she absently caressed him. “I am verra pleased to have met you. ’Tis an honorable clan you lead. I will do my best to be worthy of you all.”
The swelling in his chest caught him by surprise, and he had to clear his throat. He glanced around and saw the other men so affected.
When he spoke, his voice was rough. “You are worthy, lass. No matter what might have happened to you, you are worthy. Doona e’er forget that. It will honor us to punish the men who dared touch you.”
Caitlin slowed her caress, then stopped. She made a sound of understanding and her cheeks flushed. “Och, doona fash, any of you. They did not do what you’re thinking. I have ne’er been…violated in such a way. I was too valuable a prize. And if I had, I would certainly not blame myself, though it warms me to hear you speak so.”
Relief crashed through Darach, and a heaviness lifted from his heart. He heard the others sigh and knew they felt the same. Anger soared again when he thought about her ordeal, but this time it wasn’t weighed down by the dread of rape.
“We will still punish the blackguards, aye? You were fair sick last night. You might ne’er have woken.”
Gare rode up beside them. “And they hit you right hard, lass. Your face is swollen like a dead dog.”
Darach ground his teeth at the lad’s idiot remark. Caitlin lifted a hand to her cheek. “Is it that bad? I would hate to meet your clan looking like a poor, deceased animal.”
“Aye, it is most unsightly.” Then he caught Darach’s gaze and lost his smile. He hurried to the front of the line.
“’Tis not true, Caitlin,” Brodie said, ever the charmer. “You look like a bonny lass with a wee bruise, that’s all.”
Oslow patted her knee. “Aye, and it will rouse the heart of every MacKenzie you meet. ’Tis a badge of honor, lass.”
Caitlin smiled. “’Twas my good fortune you were on Fraser land. Were you visiting?”
“Nay. The Frasers have been our enemy nigh on eight years, e’er since our laird’s father died. They are lying scoundrels and broke an alliance, causing death and hardship to many MacKenzies. But Laird Darach, even as a young man of only twenty, saw through their treachery and saved us.”
Caitlin turned to Darach. “Twenty? You were scarce older than me. Much too young for such responsibility.”
“I was not a lad, but a laird. I had my people to protect.”
She nodded and squeezed his thigh with her fingers. He suppressed a shudder as heat spread out from her touch.
“As you protect me. You are a fine laird indeed, Darach MacKenzie.”
Pleasure welled at her words, but he suppressed it. It didn’t matter if the lass found him worthy. He had given Caitlin his pledge to protect her, nothing else. Since it was obvious she didn’t care to return to her clan, that meant keeping her—and keeping his hands off her.
But he needed to know what had happened that she’d come to be in Fraser’s brutal care. She’d lied to him about not remembering, frightened to give too much away, and he’d let it be. But those lies may put his clan in danger, and that he couldn’t let be.
She stopped chattering, and the ensuing peace was much welcome, but after a while, he began to worry. It was not like her to be so silent, to sit sedately in her seat. He jostled her, but she said nothing.
“Are you sleeping, lass?” he whispered.
She didn’t answer for a time. When she did, she sounded wistful. “Nay. I was thinking if you’ve been laird for eight years, there must be a lady and bairns in your home.”
Oslow snorted. “Our laird no more wants a wife than Laird MacKay. ’Tis a right fankle.”
Caitlin spun around, and he suddenly regretted rousing her.
“You doona want a wife either?”
“Nay.”
“But why e’er not? Surely you jest.”
“Nay.”
“But ’tis your duty to provide an heir, wouldnae you agree?”
“Nay.” His voice was firmer this time, discouraging further conversation. Her mouth dropped open and Darach could see her small, pink tongue. Never had he found a tongue so enticing. Then she started lecturing. She had yet to understand he wasn’t a man to be pressed.
“But you must. Think of your family. Think of your clan.”
He fisted his hand on his thigh. His desire for a wife and child had almost destroyed his clan eight years ago. He would never make that mistake again. Fraser’s sister, Moire, had led him by his cock as well as his heart, and he still fought the shame of it.
Women were all right in general. They had their place—preferably beneath him—but he didn’t want one beside him ever again. He would pick his successor from one of the fine, young MacKenzie men he’d trained.
“A good wife is essential for your happiness,” she continued. “Someone to love and lean on. She’ll take care of your heart as well as your home.”
Darach stopped listening. The idea of leaning on anyone made him shudder.
He decided to go on the offensive—a trick he’d learned from the MacLeod. “What clan are you, Caitlin?”
She hesitated, eyes darting from his. “What?”
“You said you were raised on a farm, so you must remember something.” It was well past time he had some answers.
“Oh, well, that’s not important now, is it? We were talking about you.”
“Nay, you were talking about me. I was asking about your clan. What’s your father’s name, your mother’s name?”
She lowered her gaze, and he saw her chin tremble. “My father’s name was Wallace. My mother’s was Claire.”
“Claire isna a Scot’s name. Is that why you speak French? Did your mother hail from France?”
“Aye.”
“And have they passed?”
“In a fire when I was sixteen. They ne’er made it out of the cottage.”
Darach’s arms tightened around her. “I’m sorry, lass. ’Tis not easy to lose a parent.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry too. I shouldnae press you on your marital decision, howe’er misguided it be. ’Tis not one you would make lightly, I’m sure.”
He suppressed a grin. “I’m sure.”
It was well into the afternoon when they stopped for a rest in a clearing near a small loch. Caitlin groaned as she slipped off Darach’s stallion and rubbed her bottom.
Entranced by the sight of her kneading the tender flesh, he couldn’t look away. She noticed, and a blush covered her cheeks. “It has been many moons since I’ve ridden such a distance.”
Even her embarrassment enticed him. Idiot.
“Stay close so we can hear if there’s trouble.”
Her gaze strayed to the stallion, fighting with Brodie for dominance by a thicket of trees.
“And doona touch the devil-horse.” When she nodded absently, he suppressed a sigh and wheeled Loki toward the loch. It was all he could do not to look back.
At the water’s edge, he wasted no time dismounting, lifting his plaid, and walking in up to his waist, desperately needing respite for his privates. He knew he could take himself in hand—it would have been easier—but it somehow seemed wrong.
As the hardness and heat seeped from his loins, his breathing eased.
“Trouble, Brother?”
Darach checked to make sure Lachlan was alone on the shore before answering. “Aye. You try having that sweet arse rubbing between your thighs for half a day.”
His foster brother laughed so hard he bent over at the waist and had to gasp for air. Grinning, Dara
ch waded back to the rocky beach. His plaid lay flat for the first time since Caitlin had mounted his horse.
“If you like, I’ll ask her to ride with me.”
“You’ll do no such thing.”
Lachlan erupted into laughter again. Darach perched on a rock and waited for his foster brother to control himself. They had important matters to discuss.
“Are you through?” he asked when Lachlan settled down.
“Aye. And she does have a sweet arse.”
“You’ve no idea.”
It was another five minutes before they could talk seriously.
“What do you make of it?” Darach asked.
“Fraser either kidnapped her or she was given to him—maybe as a bride. Either way ’twas foul.”
“Aye. Makes me wonder who did the giving. She doesn’t care to tell me her clan, so ’twas likely her laird. I’ve heard such stories.”
“You could force the truth from her.”
“Maybe in time, but I want the lass to trust me enough to tell me on her own. If I’m to be her new laird—”
“I thought you didn’t care to be her laird?” Lachlan wore a sly grin.
Darach grunted in response, then sighed. “’Tis a conundrum. All I know is we’ll prepare for battle—her clan or the Frasers may try to force her return, and she doesn’t wish to go back.”
“Aye.” Lachlan tossed a stone into the loch. The sound echoed forlornly around them. “’Tis a shame she lost her parents. Do you think the fire was deliberately set?”
“I’ve seen much evil in this world. It wouldnae surprise me.”
Lachlan tossed another stone. “Have you thought on marrying the lass? She needs a home. A protector. And you seem sorely taken with her.”
“I’ll marry right around the time you decide to marry.”
Lachlan grinned. “Maybe I’ll marry her and then you’ll be forced to marry someone else.”
He no longer found his brother amusing. “You’ll do no such thing.”
’Twas also becoming a frequent command.
* * *
Sitting on a stump in the woods a wee distance from the clearing where they’d stopped, Caitlin dropped her head to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut. She needed a good cry. Her mother had taught her to never bottle her emotions, and indulging in a self-pitying sniffle now and then always made her feel better.
Ever since she’d thought on Darach being married with bairns, her stomach had churned, and it hurt to take a deep breath. Then to find out he didn’t have a wife because he didn’t want one had thrown her into a right fankle. What kind of a man didn’t want a wife? Her father had adored her mother, although he often said that someday Caitlin would cause a young man as much trouble as her mother had caused him. But he’d never been angry when he’d said it. Nay, usually he would kiss her mother afterward.
She remembered those days fondly. It was only after the fire things had changed.
Her uncle had taken her to the keep and set a guard on her. In the beginning she didn’t care; her grief had been all consuming. She’d wished she’d died with her parents. Certainly she’d desired such an end when she’d been handed over to Fraser in exchange for gold—contracts signed in the devil’s own blood, no doubt.
Now she was glad she’d survived her ordeal.
She pictured Darach staring down at her from Loki—his wide chest, muscular arms, and strong thighs beneath his plaid. Her fingers twitched as she remembered playing with the hair on his legs and forearms—the fascinating feel of him, rough and smooth. Her fingers had often found their way to his exposed skin.
In her mind’s eye, he smiled, and that dimple in his cheek sent her stomach dipping. Heat washed over her, and she shook her head. Darach had offered her help, not love and marriage—and even if he had, she couldn’t accept. Fraser and her uncle had killed those dreams.
Nay, she had the right of it yesterday. She needed to find the only family she had left—in France. Make a home with them, preferably as far away from her uncle as possible.
If she could get to Inverness, then she could cross to the mainland and begin her search. She knew her mother’s maiden name—surely someone would remember a young Claire Fournier from Lyon marrying a Scot named Wallace MacInnes.
A muffled chirping caught her attention, and she looked up. The sound came from the bottom of a tall tree. She hurried toward it and pushed aside twigs and pine needles to reveal a baby bird lying on the forest floor.
The poor dear peered up at her, its cries pitiful.
She knew just how it felt.
Wanting desperately to hold it, she put her arms behind her back. Her mother had taught her never to touch a baby bird if she could avoid it. Instead, she should use something to return it to the nest and hope its mother would continue to care for it.
The nest was up high, and no branches grew beneath for her to climb. She could stand on Cloud, but even then she wouldn’t reach.
Cursing her wee size, she lifted her skirts and ran back for Darach, praying the little bird would stay safe till her return.
When last she’d seen her warrior, he’d been heading toward the loch on the other side of camp. Topping the rise, she saw him on the shore speaking with Lachlan, and her heart lifted. They looked up as she careened toward them.
“What’s happened? Are you hurt?” Darach roared, rushing to meet her.
She shook her head but couldn’t get enough air to speak. Instead, she grabbed his hand and pulled him back the way she’d come. Lachlan followed, and they ran into Gare, Brodie, and Oslow.
“What troubles you, lass? You must speak to me,” Darach demanded.
“’Tis a… I need… You must…” She tried to complete a sentence but had no breath. The other men fanned out vigilantly and Darach pulled her to a stop.
“Nay,” she said. “Come with me. Hurry.”
She tugged again on his arm, and he complied. They reached the spot in the trees where the bird had fallen. Letting go of his hand, she crouched down to check on it. It chirped and looked up at her.
“Ah, wee birdie,” she said between breaths. “’Twill be all right. Darach’s here now.” Turning back, she smiled at him. “It fell from its nest. I canna reach. Perhaps if you stand on Loki you can see it home safely.”
Darach stared at her, disbelief etched into every line of his face. “A bird? This is about a bird?”
“A baby bird,” she said. “It needs our help.”
He closed his mouth. A tiny muscle jumped in his jaw. “MacKenzies, to me!”
The bird chirped with alarm.
“Shush, Darach. You’re frightening it.”
Turning away, he fisted his hands on his hips. The MacKenzies and Lachlan appeared from the forest.
“Caitlin has found a bird,” he said, voice clipped.
“A baby bird,” she corrected.
His shoulders tensed, but he didn’t turn around. “Apparently it has fallen from its nest.”
Gare came forward to squat beside Caitlin on the damp ground. “Och, it be a baby all right.” He reached a finger toward it and Caitlin slapped his hand.
“Doona touch! The mother willna like its smell.”
Lachlan snorted, and she looked up at him.
“’Tis true, my mother was a healer of animals and taught me well. ’Tis best if we place the bird in the nest without contact.”
Darach turned to her. She smiled at him. He didn’t smile back.
“And how do you propose we do that?” he asked.
“Well, you’re a big man. You can reach the nest if you stand on Loki.”
He took a while answering. “What I doona understand is why you didn’t tell me this at the loch?” His voice rose, and he stopped to take a breath. “Why were you running like brigands were on your heels and wont to steal you a
t any moment?”
“’Tis a baby. It could have been eaten.”
“Makes sense to me, Brother.” Lachlan leaned over the bird for a closer look. “I’ll do it for you, Caitlin. Verily, I’m as tall as Darach and much stronger.”
“I’ll do it,” Darach snapped and pushed Lachlan out of the way. “Gare, fetch my horse.”
“Aye, Laird.”
The lad ran toward the clearing, and Darach crouched beside Caitlin, sifting through the leaves. “Are you going to save all the creatures we come upon?”
“Nay. Just this wee birdie.”
He made a skeptical sound and picked up a hard, wide piece of bark that was concave in the center. “Will this do?”
Upon her nod, he gently wedged it beneath the chick and passed it to her. Gare returned with Loki, and Darach mounted beneath the tree, then rose to his feet. The stallion huffed, but it was too well trained to move. Caitlin handed the bird to Darach, who stretched as high as he could, but he was just shy of the nest.
Caitlin expelled her breath heavily. They needed a taller horse.
“Doona fash, lass. We’ll save your chick. I havnae come this far to be defeated.”
“What if you were to stand on Cloud? He’s taller than Loki.”
“The devil-horse?” Brodie asked. “He’d not stand still for a mare in heat.”
Oslow scratched his head. “What if you were to toss the bird? Surely you wouldnae miss?”
“Nay! I forbid it,” she said.
The MacKenzies turned to her, dismayed. Darach looked resigned. Lachlan smiled.
“You canna forbid your laird,” Gare said.
She raised her chin. “I just did, and he’s not my laird. He told me so himself.”
“I wasn’t going to toss it, Caitlin, but if I had, I wouldnae have missed.”
The men turned away to contemplate the situation. Caitlin knew they were going to make a muck of it.
No one noticed when she hurried back to the clearing and approached Cloud. He danced around some, then settled at Caitlin’s soothing words. A food pack stood nearby, and she fished out an apple. The horse’s ears perked up. Caitlin had fed him treats whenever she could at her uncle’s stable.
Highland Promise Page 3