Fianna Leighton - Tales of Clan Mackay

by Return to the Highlands

  Mary climbed back onto the bed. The conversation was not going where she wanted. She pulled the shift off and dropped it on the floor. “So will ye be gone long?”

  He gripped the mantle over the fire, leaning against it to stare into the fire. “Aye, likely a few days at least.”

  “Well then, Highlander, we will have to make the best of the time we yet have,” Mary responded, speaking softly to make him turn to look at her.

  Nicholas turned around. “Have you plans, Mary?”

  She smiled when he sucked in a deep breath. “I do.”

  He took a step forward and then shook his head, a frown marring his brow. “Things are as yet unsettled between us,” he said.

  Mary shivered in the cool air but kept her gaze on his, unwilling to let him go. “We cannot change what is past. I pushed as much as ye did. No matter how we come together Nicholas, it will always be with my consent. Ye would know otherwise,” she said gruffly.

  That brought a faint smile of amusement that curved his lips and brought the hungry gleam back to his eyes. He pulled off his tunic and tossed it aside. Climbing onto the bed on his hands and knees, he faced her with a rueful grin. “So I hope your plans involved me then.”

  “Oh, they might have, Highlander.” She drew her fingers through his hair, smiling when a long piece filtered down over one eye. He looked ruthless - shirtless, his chest scarred from his injuries, his green eyes on fire. He leaned into her hand when she brushed it against his cheek.

  “You do understand you play with fire?” he murmured.

  “Shall I worry that I might get burned, or are ye simply too hot, Nicholas, to handle.”

  He laughed. Mary’s heart did an odd flip-flop at the sound as he pulled her against him, kneeling on the bed. “It is you , Mary that is hard to hold.” He kissed her shoulders, his hands on her arms, then lower to grasp her hips. “But there are places where a man’s hands tend to go,” he whispered. He pulled her hips against his to give her proof of his desire. “Who will win in this, I wonder, the maid who seeks to seduce, or the man who wishes to keep things as slow as he can.”

  His lips covered her throat, moved lower to her chest, grazing a fiery path over her breasts. Mary moaned, unable to control the sound and dug her fingers into his hair as he sucked one nipple into his mouth. She was lost the moment he swept her into his arms to lower her to the bed, lost when she looked into his eyes and knew he was hers. “Nicholas,” she whispered.

  “Hmmm?”

  She shivered at his touch when his fingers grazed her thigh then brushed her briefly, intimately.

  “I must tell ye something.” Mary pressed her hands against his chest. He shifted to look at her curiously.

  How to tell him she loved him? That to lose him would destroy her? She knew the words would not keep him by her side, yet he had to know before he left, before something happened. He smiled faintly and then rolled onto the bed, drawing her with him until she lay over his chest.

  “I know what you mean to say, Mary. It cannot change my plans.”

  So he would admit to something at least. She touched his brow, drawing her fingers along the curve of his temple, the frown line now creasing his forehead. “I know, Nicholas.”

  “I have told you that I loved you ,” he said.

  “Indeed ye have, before god and the clan, but I have not.”

  “I know that you care for me.”

  She pushed herself up to lean her arms against his chest. “I feel much more than that. Nicholas, I could not bear to lose you, not now.”

  “Mary, love,” he kissed her nose, circled his arms over her back to roll back over her. “After all I’ve done, taking you from your home, dragging you to the wilds of Scotland, you can love me?”

  “Aye,” she whispered.

  “I thank God for that, then,” he said. “I will hold this image in my heart, open to me, hungry for me.” He smiled wickedly. “And willing to show it. But time is past for conversation lass, coming into my room to find a vision in my bed tends to make a man find his body demands some satisfaction, aye?”

  She bit her lip when he nipped at her shoulder and then shifted his hips against hers. “Aye, so claim what you wish,” she offered, gasping when he began to rain kisses down her chest and then her belly. His hands gripped her hips to hold her still as she writhed beneath him.

  “So did your man ever mention that there are things a man can do just as pleasing to a woman?”

  Mary gasped when his tongue grazed her intimately, closed her eyes as pleasure swept over her when he dipped his fingers inside her. Then she forgot all else as he did both, forgot that he would leave in the morning, forgot the troubles that had pushed them apart. He swept her into a myriad of feelings, sensations of heat and desire, a hunger that wanted more.

  More that lasted into the wee hours of the morning until they both lay exhausted, curled together in the bed. Nicholas lay against her back, his arm tucked possessively around her stomach. Mary listened to his breathing, concerned, but he slept peacefully, fully relaxed against her.

  Mary dozed briefly, and then woke when the sky was still dark outside their window. Nicholas was gone, the bed empty beside her.

  Chapter 26

  Nicholas rode with Rory, William, Malcolm and Hugh, as well as five more Mackay men. The light was dim, the moon hidden behind a bank of clouds. Ben Loyal shadowed their movements; the Highlands seemed to embrace them, cloaking the clansmen from all eyes. They followed the kyle, riding along the bank for ease as the inlet wended its way deep into the glens. Deer leaped ahead of them. Wings overhead, nearly silent, revealed a great owl winging low over the water. The air was crisp and cold, forecasting yet more snow.

  They spoke little. The plan had been set. None of the men seemed concerned they would not return to Varrich. Nicholas looked back once to the stark castle now hidden by the hills. He had returned to the Highlands expecting to find the same emptiness he had lived with for so long. He had fought for the Bruce, yet his heart had not been engaged in the fight. His death at Bannockburn, after the horse had knocked him flat, should have been quick and merciful.

  But he had lived.

  Now he rode with men not of his clan, far too willing to face possible death for his cause. He shook his head at the thought. He glanced at Rory. The man had been a close friend since Stirling. Even parted for so long, the bond had remained true, a brother in all sense of the word.

  Bastian had remained behind. To leave only Donald at the keep was now unthinkable after Sutherland’s entreaty there, but he had caught Nicholas by the shoulders before they’d left, hugged him tightly and then stood him back to gaze deep into Nicholas’s eyes. “Ye just came back, lad.”

  Nicholas had nodded and understood.

  They continued south, abandoning the kyle to ride through the narrow glens. Mackay land for generations as Scot, longer as Pict, Nicholas knew it like the back of his hand, could have rode blindfolded. He breathed deep the smell of the heather, the peaty smell of wood smoke that drifted occasionally to them from a crofter hut high above. His people, his heritage, one he had thought to forget.

  Fool.

  A day later, the dawn brushed the sky pink with tendrils gilded gold when they reached their destination. Sitting on a high outcrop of rock, they could see far across the hills. They ate, drank Rory’s poteen and waited.

  Finally, Nicholas stood up. Hugh rose to stand beside him, a hand on his shoulder. “Ye are sure of this?”

  “Aye, it must be finished, Macleod must know the truth.”

  “And if he kills ye for spite, any hows?” Hugh asked, being the devil’s advocate.

  Nicholas smiled wryly. “Then it will truly be finished will it not?”

  “Bloody stubborn Highlander,” Hugh grinned affectionately. “Let us be on our way then. Malcolm, William, ye are with me.”

  Nicholas watched them move into the hills, the horses left behind. Men well used to walking
, they melted away quickly, one with the land.

  Nicholas tightened the ties on the leather vambraces on his wrists. Rory appeared beside him, tucking the flask once more into his belt. “Are ye ready for this, man?”

  “With you, certainly, what could go wrong?” Nicholas replied. He slapped Rory’s shoulder and the two of them followed Hugh into the hills.

  ***

  Sebastian crouched in front of the fire and poked a stick at the peat. The keep was quiet, Nicholas gone with Rory and Hugh, more than likely to hunt down Macleod. Mary had said nothing, but one look at her and Bastian knew her distress. He wasn’t happy to be left behind, but knew his brother would handle the problem of Macleod in his own way. Besides, he had his own issues, namely one yet with his father and Rose.

  Donald had yet to agree to her joining the clan.

  The wait was starting to frustrate him. What more did his father need to see? Rose had done as much as she could to fit in, to be what Donald might want.

  Footsteps behind him set his teeth on edge, but Sebastian remained as he was.

  “Where is Ann?”

  Sebastian glanced at his father. “She’s with Rose and Fiona, they are packing things for Wesley and Peg. Ann means to take them a few things for the babe.”

  Donald nodded absently, drawing out a pipe from his pocket. Lighting it took a long moment, with Sebastian watching covertly. “That’s nice.”

  Sebastian shoved a hand into his hair, drawing out a long breath. “Nice, Da?”

  “Aye, I am sure they could use the help.”

  The fire flared briefly, as if aware of Sebastian’s temper. “Da,” he began but Donald waved his pipe to interrupt.

  “Ye have been patient, Bastian.”

  Sebastian sat facing his father. “She’s staying.”

  “Did I say otherwise?” Donald asked irritably.

  “Ye haven’t said one way or the other.” Sebastian glared at the fire, his elbows on his knees and missed the smile that twitched at Donald’s lips.

  “Would ye have me decide when everyone is at wits end? Tis a wicked thing ye do, lad. Dragging Rose in between ye and Macleod, when he’s already set to kill Nicky?” Donald shook his head and inhaled on his pipe.

  “I can’t help it if things happen as they did. I’ve waited a long time for her.”

  “She was married,” Donald agreed.

  “Aye, but not now.”

  Donald folded his arms over his chest, pipe in hand. “Even with yer best intentions, taking her will still rile the chieftain, will still create issues. Nicholas thinks to finish this between them.”

  “Aye, he’s taken the Drummonds and Hugh.”

  “Mary does not know, nor will she,” Donald said.

  “Not from me,” Sebastian agreed.

  “Once Nicholas is settled, then the dealings between you and Rose will be considered.”

  Sebastian sat up. He met Donald’s grey eyes. “A wedding at the new year would be acceptable.”

  Donald smiled faintly. “Aye, it would.”

  ***

  Rose sat up when the door flew open, the man guarding the portal stumbling backwards with a muffled curse. Sebastian stepped into his place and sent the man such a glare he sighed and bowed, moving into the hall.

  “Ye will not be long,” the guard declared, brow lifted as Sebastian snorted rudely.

  ‘I’ll not be long. I’ve only words to speak with the lass.”

  The clansman smiled and nodded, but folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “I’ll wait here.”

  Sebastian scowled but stepped into the room, shutting the door firmly in the guard’s face. “Bloody clansman is far too loyal to Da.”

  Rose smiled in amusement, her fingers tight on the covers, drawn up nearly to her chin. Sebastian had a way of sending goose bumps down her spine with only a look, and seeing him so determined only made them worse, hence her need for the blanket, but also as she wore only a thin chemise.

  “He follows orders, as ye would have him do.”

  Sebastian grunted, a purely male sound of dissatisfaction and irritation. He turned and then crossed the room to the edge of the bed. “I’ve spoken to Da.”

  Rose nodded and shivered when Sebastian leaned closer. “I would imagine he has agreed to yer wishes?”

  Sebastian paused and lifted a brow. “Aye, somewhat. How did ye know?”

  She shrugged. “A woman’s intuition, perhaps?” She nearly giggled when he frowned. “Perhaps I am more than what ye think?”

  He sat on the bed. “Ye speak in riddles, Rose. Why are ye in bed, are ye ill?”

  “Nay, it is nearly past the rise of the moon, Sebastian. Have ye lost track of time?”

  He looked at the window where the moonlight glinted off the grey stone outside. “Things are still unsettled in my mind. Nicholas has gone.”

  “Aye, Mary will not be happy about that.”

  “Ye will not speak of Nicholas to her.”

  Rose lifted a brow at the order. “She deserves to know what he intends, she is his wife.”

  “And you, as my wife, will do as I ask,” Sebastian countered evenly.

  She wasn’t sure how to reply, although she had had Donald’s assurance that he would agree to the match. The thought of being Sebastian’s wife ignited a deep ache inside her. Would he be different than her previous husband? She looked at him and could only hope. Sebastian was far more handsome, his gaze distant at the moment, his thoughts clearly on his brother. His hair hung straight to his shoulders, dark nearly black, it made him look dangerous, a dark warrior intent on …” her thoughts were interrupted when Sebastian turned his gaze back to Rose. He rose and placed one knee on the bed, settling his hands beside her hips.

  “So tell me, Rose lass, would a Christmas wedding be in order?”

  She felt a rush of heat sweep through her as her heart began to race. “Wedding? But your Da said nothing of a wedding.”

  “No, I did,” Sebastian whispered. “I’ll not wait longer. Say ye agree, woman.”

  His arrogance intrigued her. He fully expected her to consent. Looking into his grey eyes she really did not mind, yet wanted to know how hard he might push. “It is a might early, lad.”

  “I’d do it tomorrow if things were settled with Nicholas.”

  She shook her head. “And if things go badly? We will be in mourning for months. Perhaps next year…”

  Sebastian climbed onto the bed, ignoring the rude knock at the door. “Bloody hell, Rose. I’ve no time to woo ye more, say yes, and be done with it.”

  She held back her laughter, using her hands to hold the Mackay back as he leaned over her. “Have I no say?”

  “Aye, yes, it’s a simple word, Rose.”

  “But no is even better,” she insisted, nearly squealing when Sebastian shoved her backwards against her pillows. He loomed over her, eyes glinting with something dangerous and yet exciting. She shivered, breathless when he leaned toward her.

  “Say yes, love.”

  His lips were so close, she had only to lean forward to touch them with hers. She liked his kisses, liked the power within them, the ability to be both soft and a warrior as well. The door rattled with yet another knock and a muffled curse.

  “He’s nigh impatient,” Rose whispered.

  “Fuck the bloody guard,” Sebastian growled. “I will have yer agreement, here and now, before I leave. I cannot wait further.”

  Something in his eyes made her pause, to look deeper. Fear lay buried in the grey depths, fear for his brother, fear for her. Rose reached up and placed a hand to Sebastian’s cheek. “Would ye carry me off, lad, should I say no?”

  His lips tightened and she saw in his eyes that it was a possibility. She smiled. “Ye Mackay have a way with women that might need a bit of adjustment. I say yes, fool man, t’would not be otherwise.”

  Relief flared in Sebastian’s gaze. A curt shout at the door had the guard mumbling s
omething, silencing his pounding. Sebastian returned his gaze to her and then smiled. “I could not leave without knowing ye agreed.”

  “Where are ye going?”

  Sebastian shook his head and then brushed his lips over hers in a light caress. His hair brushed her skin, his hand slipped behind her head to draw her closer, deepening the kiss. Rose sighed inwardly and tangled her fingers tighter into his shirt, meeting his passion with her own, a promise of much more to come.

  He broke free with a deep growl and moved off the bed. “I must go now.”

  Rose sat up, drawing the covers to her chest. No need to incite him further, the guard was already a problem. “Just come back, Sebastian. A wedding needs planning. I expect yer brothers to stand with ye.”

  Sebastian stared at her and then as if the reality finally sank in, grinned. “Aye, they will. Wear something pretty, lass. Ann has some things ye might like.”

  Rose had already borrowed enough from the Mackay, but she did not argue. She’d make do with what she could find. She only needed Sebastian and she’d be happy. “Go on then. Take Bain with ye.”

  He glanced at the dog lying near the fire, a silent companion to Rose. “I will. I have a bad feeling in my heart. I need to check on a few things.”

  “Ye’ll not be following Nicholas?” Rose said when Sebastian reached the door. He pulled it open and the guard scowled. Looking back, he shook his head.

  “Nay, that is Nicky’s fight. I’ve a mind to head east and check the way of things there.”

  “Just be careful.”

  Sebastian shoved the guard out of the way. “Ah, I’m always careful, Rose. I’ll be back.”

  ***

  Mary crawled out of the bed. The slate floor was cold under her feet. Intuitive to a fault, she could not shake the fear that gripped her so deeply it had woken her from sleep. She pulled on her shift, shivering as the cold fabric touched her skin. Crossing to the narrow window, she pushed open the glass pane to look out. Dawn was still an hour away, the moon low in the sky. Below her, snow covered the ground, a silent dusting that had covered everything in sight. The kyle glittered brightly, partially frozen now, chunks of ice littering the shore where she could see it, pushed onto the beach by the tide. She shivered and closed the window.