Deception of a Highlander

by Madeline Martin

  Judging from the heat of his gaze, it had just been chipped.

  Her question did not need a reply when the answer hung so heavy between them.

  “It’s warm in here,” Mariel said in a soft tone. “Perhaps we should continue our conversation outside.”

  Without waiting for his answer, she slid her hand against his elbow so the curve of her bosom brushed against his arm. Kieran took a step back and his broad shoulder bumped against the back of a man with cropped blond hair behind them. The slender courtier whipped around to face Kieran. His throat was so crowded with a stiff neck ruff that he had to turn his entire body.

  Mariel’s blood ran cold. She knew the man’s face. Worse still, he would know hers.

  “You made me spill my wine,” the courtier slurred. He pointed to the ruby drop that beaded on his ornate doublet. Kieran cast the thin man a look of rude nonchalance before turning back to Mariel.

  “I was speaking to you, barbarian.” The man pressed a lazy finger into Kieran’s cheek, and his bleary gaze drifted to her face. Recognition flickered in his unfocused eyes. “Hey,” he murmured. “I know you.”

  Her stomach clenched. Her heart slammed against her chest.

  She was caught.

  Chapter Four

  Several courtiers nearby eyed Mariel with interest. The drunk man’s finger lay pressed against Kieran’s reddening face still.

  “I think ye should remove yer finger before I break it,” Kieran growled.

  The man pulled his attention from Mariel to Kieran. He loosed a high-pitched laugh and placed his free hand next to his ear with an exaggerated motion. “What’s that? I don’t understand Erse. Perhaps if you spoke English—”

  Kieran’s fist slammed into the man’s bony chin and sent him crumpling to the ground.

  The chatter of voices ceased, music fell away midnote, and the clink of coins from the card tables stilled. A roomful of hundreds of people skidded into unnatural silence. Every eye was drawn to the out-of-control Scottish beast and the hapless courtier he’d brutally assaulted. To make matters worse, the man did not rise from his pile on the floor.

  While Kieran did not seem to notice the commotion he’d caused, Mariel did. Any attention drawn to him was aimed at her as well, something she could ill afford in a court where she made naught but enemies.

  “Kieran,” she said in a quiet voice and placed her hand on his forearm, “perhaps it’s best we go now.” She caught Jane’s shocked gaze from across the room and nodded her head toward the door.

  “And I was finally starting to enjoy myself,” Kieran muttered under his breath. A white-haired dowager gasped and stared incredulously at him. He turned away from the unconscious man and tucked Mariel’s hand in the crook of his arm as gallantly as any gentleman.

  Mariel dropped her eyes to the floor and tried to keep her head turned toward Kieran to shield her face. Her heart beat wildly and every nerve was on edge. Where one person knew her, there could be more.

  The heavy thump of Kieran’s boots on the polished wood floor filled the tomblike silence of the room. Upon their exit, a wave of voices roared to life behind them. It was not difficult to guess what they were saying.

  Relief eased the tension in her shoulders. Though he would never realize it, Kieran had saved her by accosting the man. Were the courtier not so drunk, he would have doubtless recognized her more quickly.

  Too many things could have gone wrong.

  “You’ve created quite a stir,” she said as they strode through the quiet hall. Candles flickered on either side of them, illuminating prized pieces of art and furnishings. “I’m afraid you may not receive a warm welcome at court tomorrow.”

  “I dinna intend to be at court tomorrow, or London for that matter.” They rounded the corner to the final few steps that led to the sprawling front lawn.

  Jane waited by the doorway with Mariel’s sable cape in her hands.

  “We leave for Scotland so soon?” Mariel allowed Jane to drape the fur over her shoulders.

  Kieran did not reply as they stepped out into the frosty night once more. Mariel glanced behind them to ensure no guards followed. For either of them.

  Thus far the hall behind them was clear, but she steered them toward a shadowed corner of the lawn just in case.

  “Yer maid isna a verra good escort.” Kieran looked over his shoulder to where Jane stood against the door with her back facing them.

  Mariel pulled in a deep breath of icy air to calm her nerves and offered him her most seductive look. A look that left her gaze heavy lidded and her mouth soft. She took a bold step closer so her body whispered against the heated wall of his chest. So close that his scent tugged at her awareness. A sensation fluttered in the pit of her stomach and bumps of excitement prickled her skin.

  “Jane understands when I want to be alone.”

  His indifferent stare held her gaze. “Ye want to be alone?”

  In the soft glow of the moon, his eyes gleamed like inky pools. They captivated her, drew her with the power of her own seduction, the challenge of his resistance, and the success of earning his affection.

  Her hand rested on the fine wool of his simple jacket. “I want to be alone with you.” She wanted the heat of his lips against hers and his strong arms wrapped around her body. In a world of feigned lust, the heady rush of the true emotion left her reeling.

  Intoxicating though it was, she did not know if she liked it.

  “Mariel…” Kieran gently removed her hand from his chest and stepped back. “I canna take ye to Scotland.” His lips thinned into a stubborn line—a silent command not to be questioned. The command of a man who did not know the persistence of a woman like Mariel.

  Kieran took one look at Mariel’s set jaw and knew she would not accept his decision easily.

  “We had a deal, Kieran.” She lifted her chin and her eyes flashed in the muted light of the moon.

  “We did, and now I am saying I canna take ye. It is far too dangerous a journey and life on Skye is harder than anything ye’ve been exposed to here.”

  “You don’t know what I have lived through, what cruelty I have endured. Surely nothing on Skye can be so vicious as what lays in the shadows of London.” She caught his hand with icy fingers. “Despite your hesitation to honor your agreement and take me to Skye, I can sense you are an honorable man. There are far too few in this world we live.”

  She gazed up at him with the naïve hope of a child as if silently pleading with him not to disprove her trust. Something in his gut twisted. He had been correct. She had been subjected to the abuse of men.

  He wanted to give her his trust, to allow her to come with him so he could protect her against the sadness that never left her exotic gaze.

  “Please.” Her voice was soft in the semidarkness. “If I become too much of a burden, you can leave me along the way.”

  “I would no leave ye,” he said firmly.

  She gave him a slow smile. “Thank you, Kieran.”

  He stilled. Had he just agreed she could come? He muttered a curse under his breath. Damn his arrogance. It could cost him more than he was willing to pay.

  How could he have agreed to let her come to Skye? The wager had been agreed upon under the assumption his win was guaranteed. It was supposed to have released him from her company so he could continue his search. Thus far he had been unable to locate Lord Hampton and was starting to question if the whoreson was in London at all. Perhaps Alec and Colin had been more successful.

  Mariel closed the distance between them once more and drew his attention with her heated gaze. “I promise you won’t regret this.”

  He wanted to step back from her, but the tone of her voice lured him like a siren’s song. She tempted his curiosity.

  Her slender hand settled on his chest once more, and the pressure of her fingers sparked a heat in his veins.

  Kieran gazed down at the dark-haired beauty, torn between drawing her to him and walking away forever.

  Unbidd
en, his hands slid down her back and circled her narrow waist, neither holding her to him nor pushing her away. He should release her and leave, yet found he could not. Not when he wanted to trace the delicate curve of her neck with the tip of his tongue to sample if she were as sweet and soft as he’d imagined.

  Mariel eased her body closer against his so her supple breasts pressed against his chest and swelled over the top of her bodice, milky white in the light of the moon and tempting as hell.

  Her red lips were moist and parted, teasing his resolve with unspoken promises. “Kiss me, Kieran.” Her breath was sweet against his mouth and her black lashes fluttered closed.

  White-hot desire flashed through him and singed the fraying edges of his control.

  The woman could tempt a damn saint.

  He trailed the back of his hand down her cheek and his resistance cracked. Her skin was silk against his calloused thumb. He lowered his head to hers and let the heat of her lips whisper against his.

  The scent of roses tugged at his crumbling resolve and baited his lust. She would be soft and luscious beneath his mouth.

  It was only a kiss, but he knew without a doubt the heat of her mouth against his would only serve to whet his desire further. He would not be able to still his hands from gliding over what was hidden from view or from pulling her against the parts of him she made ache.

  With an incredible act of willpower, he straightened, released her, and took a step back to address her from a safer distance lest he give in to temptation.

  “If ye still want to come, meet me here tomorrow morning at nine o’clock, aye?”

  He turned to leave when her hand on his forearm stopped him.

  “Why did you not kiss me?” she asked.

  Kieran studied her face and desire tugged at him once more. “Do ye always get what ye want, Mariel?”

  Her eyes trailed the length of his body with a shrewd expression. “Only if I know how to get it.”

  With a swish of her skirts, she turned and walked away, leaving him staring after her with the hollow ache of regret.

  • • •

  Mariel’s gaze scoured the crowds swarming the manicured lawns of the palace while she waited for Jane to bring the two small traveling bags. Nervous anticipation churned her stomach. She would see Kieran soon.

  Excitement had been the culprit of her lack of sleep the night before. She had been haunted by the way he’d brought his lips so close to hers, and the way he’d teased her with a kiss that did not follow. His scent lingered on her skin and tangled with the memory of his warm hands around her waist.

  Mariel shielded the sun from her eyes with the flat of her hand and looked over the sea of faces once more, confirming what she already knew. Kieran was not there.

  A young, gawky squire strolled past her. She waved her hands. “Oh, excuse me,” she called.

  He wheeled around and gazed at her through a fluff of blond hair. “Yes, my lady?”

  “Have you seen Laird MacDonald?” The boy probably didn’t know who Kieran was, but perhaps he could direct her to someone who did.

  The boy’s brow furrowed for a moment. “Do you mean the man who punched—” He cleared his throat. “Er…yes, I have.”

  “Marvelous.” She breathed. “Can you direct me to him, please?”

  The boy rubbed the back of his thin neck. “I’m sorry, my lady. He left an hour ago.”

  Chapter Five

  Kieran quickened his pace along the narrow cobblestoned streets as the bells tolled the nine o’clock hour. Despite all he had accomplished that morning, agitation crept along his muscles.

  Last night’s discussion with Alec and Colin had not gone as well as he had hoped. In fact, had he not made the damned wager with Mariel, he would have been out of London before the sun even rose.

  His assumption had been correct. Lord Hampton was not at court. Kieran gritted his teeth. His trip to London had been for naught and now Caisteal Camus was left without its laird. Doubtless that had been the bastard’s intention the entire time.

  The last minute preparations for two additional people had taken longer than Kieran had anticipated, and now he was running late. He cursed himself for accepting that ridiculous bet in the first place.

  He approached the wide lawn and spotted Mariel’s slender back amid the throngs of people. Her maid was with her, as well as a young page who pointed in Kieran’s direction. Mariel spun around in a graceful swirl of skirts and beamed a devastating smile at him.

  “Kieran,” she said in a breathy voice as he approached. “I thought you’d left me.”

  The glare of the sun streamed against her face and brought out sapphire blue flecks among the brilliant amethyst of her eyes. Her hair was bound again, this time twisted beneath a cap with an absurd feather thrust through it.

  The gray jacket she wore looked stiff and her skirts were overfull for the narrow saddle. She would be uncomfortable on their journey wearing her ridiculous English attire.

  Mariel bent to retrieve the leather bag at her feet, and her full, creamy breasts strained against the low neckline, threatening to burst free of their confines.

  Of course, if she insisted on wearing such clothes, who was he to stop her?

  A slight crease appeared between her eyebrows when she straightened. “The page said you had left an hour ago. I thought…” she trailed off and sank her teeth into her full lower lip.

  Kieran let his gaze settle on her mouth. He had dreamt of those very lips last night. “There was much to prepare for two unexpected riders. Skye is a long distance away and will take a significant amount of time to reach, aye?”

  Her cheeks colored as she seemed to notice for the first time the laden horses behind him. “Of course, I didn’t even realize…” The smile she gave him lacked the finesse of the previous ones and appeared almost shy. “Thank you for the purchases. And for letting us join you.”

  Kieran accepted the note of gratitude with a grunt. He preferred the women not come at all and tried to ignore the prickle of guilt associated with the selfish thought. Haste was necessary if they were going to leave within the hour.

  “The others are waiting for us at the stables.” He eyed the satchel in Mariel’s hand. “I trust ye are ready?”

  He did not wait for her to respond before taking the bag from her and two additional bags from Jane. For their small size, they weighed more than a sack of grain each. He hefted them over his shoulders and started toward the stables.

  “The weather is perfect for travel, isn’t it?” Mariel said, appearing beside him. He felt the weight of her gaze on his face.

  The sky was clear blue through the milky haze shrouding London and the sun shone down on his back despite the icy gusts. It was a good day for travel indeed. Although any day that marked his departure from London would have been a good day for travel.

  He slowed his pace so she would not have to rush. “We will need to travel with more haste than I had anticipated. There have been…developments that have made it necessary for me to return home as quickly as possible.”

  If Mariel was apprehensive, she did not show it. But then perhaps she did not truly understand how grueling fast-paced riding could be.

  “Kieran,” Colin called from the stables. His eyes immediately fixed on Mariel and a wide grin split his face.

  Kieran gave an irritated groan and steered the women to where Colin and Alec prepared the horses. Colin would waste no time introducing himself to Mariel. Or trying to get her into his bed.

  Perhaps Kieran should have kissed her last night as it was no doubt his last opportunity to have done so.

  • • •

  Mariel smiled as the red-haired man with kind green eyes approached her.

  “Colin MacKinnon at yer service, my lady.” He bowed as low as an overzealous courtier and grasped her hand.

  Through the corner of her eye, she noticed Kieran’s jaw clench. Regret lodged a bitter seed in her stomach. She would have to use that jealousy against him.


  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Colin.” She let his name roll off her tongue like a dainty sweet. “I’m Mariel Brandon.”

  Colin’s hand lingered on hers longer than was necessary. “Ye look bonny this morning, Mariel.”

  “Are the horses ready?” Kieran demanded, cutting off the conversation before it began.

  Rather than answer, Colin gave Mariel a lopsided smile that revealed the deep dimple in his left cheek and winked at her before turning back to the row of stabled horses.

  Kieran nodded to a man with long black hair and a wild glint in his ice blue eyes.

  “That’s Alec MacLean.”

  The large Highlander met Mariel’s smile with a narrowed glare.

  “Is he always so friendly?” she teased.

  “Highlanders dinna like the English.” Kieran cast a pointed look down at her. “This is what ye will face on Skye, so ye’d better get used to it. Of course, ye can always stay in London.”

  She smirked. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

  To prove her point, she waited by the horse strapped with her bags in the hopes Kieran would lift her onto its back. While he appeared otherwise engaged, Colin was more than eager to assist. He cradled her waist a moment before he lifted her to the saddle with ease.

  Colin was not as tall as Kieran or as large, and he carried himself with less of a stiff-backed silence. While remarkably attractive and charismatic, he did not hold the quiet, brooding mystery that drew her to Kieran.

  Nor did he possess the information she needed.

  Mariel drew a steadying breath. She was doing this for Jack. All she needed to do was obtain the location of Blair and Dougal Hampton and she could be free without anyone having been physically harmed.

  She patted the glossy brown neck of her steed and regained her composure. Kieran had gone to great expense to purchase their horses, especially considering the exorbitant prices in London.