by Ria Cantrell
He brooded, while stretching his long legs in front of him. He didn’t dare go up to his chambers because that girl was lodged next to his room by his own decree. He was going to do everything possible to avoid her. He was going to move on to Edinburgh as he had originally planned when the Spring Court was in house and so he would just have to bide his time for a few more weeks. Damn, he felt stiff, but he closed his eyes and tried to catch a few winks before morning light.
As the keep came alive with activity, Rory woke. He was in a pretty foul mood. He grumbled to one of the serving maids to have a bath drawn in the solar for him. That was what his aching bones needed, he thought. A good steaming bath with a pretty maid to tend him and he would feel right as rain in no time.
*****
Morag helped the girl dress. Each day her health improved. She knew the girl had not had the best night’s rest, but all in all, the lassie looked well. She said, “Brielle, he is back. He requested a bath. Do ye’ think ye’ feel well enough to tend him?”
Brielle nodded, “I can do that.”
Morag smiled and said, “Good. Now he is going to throw a bit of temper, but I dunna’ think he will hurt ye’, Lass. Can ye’ get past his bluster?”
Passing her fingers down her scar, unconsciously, Brielle said, “Aye.”
“Dunna’ let him bully ye, lass. Once he is settled in his bath, lock the door behind ye. Put the key in yer’ pocket. He’ll not fight ye’ fer’ it, but he may yell.”
Brielle listened to Morag’s instructions and after carefully considering what she said, Brielle said, “Aye, I will tend him in his bath.”
“Alright, lass. Go to him. Be strong, Brielle. Let yer’ love fer’ him guide ye.”
Brielle let herself into the solar. He was already soaking in the steaming vat. He had a cloth over his eyes and he actually appeared to be sleeping. Her mouth went dry. He was the most handsome man she had ever beheld. If he was beautiful when dressed, he was devastating in his nakedness. His skin was bronzed and golden. His shoulders were so wide and strong. Sculpted muscles defined his strong arms.
His left arm bore a tattooed Celtic band, marking him one of his clan. His hair hung loosely about his shoulders. While she had tended men in their baths before, never had one affected her so as this one had. She willed her legs to stop shaking and she approached the vat. She took the bar of soap and began to rub it into his shoulders.
He groaned in satisfaction and he said, “There’s a good lass…I am stiff this morn. Harder please.”
Brielle massaged his shoulders, squeezing and applying the pressure he craved. She could feel him relax under her touch. Feeling him beneath her fingers was both a treat and a torture. It made her weak in the knees, but oh, it was so wonderful to touch him. As her fingers seemed to work magic on him, she grew bolder. She took a cloth and rubbed it over his chest. She used it to rinse the soap from his shoulders. As she reached around him and gently bathed his chest, his hand shot out and clasped around her wrist.
He tipped his head back and teased, “How about a kiss.”
Her heartbeat sped up from both a mixture of excitement and ire. It was obvious he kissed the serving girls frequently, and while she was no serving wench, she decided to acquiesce. She leaned over him and touched her lips to his. She didn’t know if the others kissed him, but she was pretty sure they would never deny him, and neither would she. While leaning over him, her mouth was reverse to his, but still she kissed him in this strange position. As her lips parted against his, she felt him go rigid. He tore the cloth away from his eyes, slapping it in the water, which caused a splash to wet her.
“Bloody feckin’ hell!”
She stepped back, startled at his outburst, but she planted her hands on her hips and said, “Watch yer’ mouth Ruiri MacCollum. I am still a lady and I willna' have yer' vile tirade.”
“Like hell ye’ are! Get the hell out of here!”
“I am afraid I canna’ do that. For ye’ see, I have nowhere to go, so I have asked to be put to use here. This is my first task given so, I may earn my keep.”
“Find another task as long as it is far away from me.”
“This is the task I was given. Ye’ know I still canna’ do much, but it would seem that helping ye’ with yer’ bath was easy enough.”
“Find ye’ someone else to bathe, and leave me alone,” he bellowed. His golden eyes flashed as he raised his voice more so to intimidate her, but she was undaunted.
“Even though I have done nothing to ye’, ye’ wish to think me the most vile of women. That is fine, Ruiri, but I owe yer’ Da,’ Morag and even ye’ for the kindness shown me here. I promised to help and do my share and I am going to.”
Rory sighed heavily. “Fine lass, just go help someone else. I dunna’ need yer’ help.”
“I am not going, Ruiri and ye’ will stay and listen. I have things that must be said; things, ye’ must hear.”
His eyes flashed again and he fairly growled through gritted teeth, “Find someone else. I am not the man ye’ think I am.”
“Apparently not! The Ruiri I imagined ye’ to be was kind and gentle. He cared for me in my wounded state. He saved my life. I imaged him to not be stupid to shun a chance to have a girl love him, even an ugly girl like me.”
“Ye’ are not ugly,” he grumbled miserably.
“What?”
“I dunna’ like being called stupid.”
Brielle stared at the brooding man who had just said she wasn’t ugly.
“Well stupid is a man who shuns the mere thought of love.”
“Well stupider still is a woman who thinks herself ugly, but who is beautiful beyond reason. And stupid is a woman who loves a man like me.”
The insult was lost on Brielle. She stammered, “Ye, ye…think I am beautiful? Me, beautiful?”
Brielle’s eyes widened at the thought. No man had made her feel beautiful; certainly none had ever said it. She stepped closer to the vat and leaned down to kiss him again. At first, she felt him respond; his tongue lifting against hers as he nearly forgot his anger. He forgot it long enough to realize how good it felt to kiss her and taste her again. But as he felt her kissing him more deeply, he remembered who she was. He pushed her away roughly; causing her to bump her hip against the vat. She cried out in pain because she was still sore in places from her bruises. He had not meant to hurt her. She was still healing and he forgot how small she was.
“I’m sorry,” he said brusquely. “Are ye’ alright?”
Brielle nodded, looking into his eyes. Damned girl! Unshed tears clung to her long lashes and it was all he could do to not kiss them away.
“Dunna’ do that again, Brielle, for I am still a man. Campbell or no, I will still react as most men would. I canna' promise honor if you provoke me.”
As color rose in her face at his admonishment, she said softly, “I canna’ help being a Campbell any more than ye’ can help being MacCollum. I would ne’er hurt anyone Ruiri. Certainly, not yer’ Caitlyn.”
His expression changed drastically. He was quickly losing control of his temper. Through clenched teeth he said, “I told ye’ not to say her name.”
Brielle knew she was treading in very dangerous waters, because this was his dark past, still she forged ahead.
“She had a name and ye’ dishonor her memory by refusing to speak of her, yet ye’ hold onto her and let the past keep ye’ from yer’ future. Ye’ hold onto a hatred that has naught to do with me.”
“Dunna’ say another word, Brielle. I am warning ye’. Ye’ dunna’ know what ye’ are starting.”
She knew, but she had to help him and not releasing that darkness was scarier than the Darkness itself.
“Oh, nay? Big, dark brooding warrior with a heart of stone! Bah! The legendary Highland Wolf, indeed! Yer’ heart is so tender you tend a broken girl ye’ dunna’ know and personally see to nursing her back to health even to the point of using yer’ body to assure her warmth.”
Flinching at hea
ring her call him that horrid name, Rory looked at her. He hadn’t been certain she was truly aware of him that night he held her to keep her warm. He thought that night she was pretty out of sorts. He was not sure she even remembered him being there, as she never made another mention of it, and he had not wanted to embarrass her by reminding her.
“I dunna’ know what ye’ mean,” he lied. It was best to pretend he hadn’t done as she said.
“Liar,” she spat. “You are the liar, Rory MacCollum. Not me. Big dark warrior with a heart of stone, but with a heart so tender he would rather lie than admit the truth. I thought it was a dream that ye’ held me while I slept, but Morag confirmed it was indeed so.”
“That woman needs to keep her nose out of my affairs,” he grumbled. “She had no right to tell you that.”
“Well she did tell me; not that she had to really. I knew deep down it was real and not a dream brought on by delirium. Ye' held me and cared for me. Ye’ wouldna' leave me. I am not fooled by yer' mask of darkness.”
Brielle was not certain how she had been brave enough to say all these things to Rory, but she stood her ground. Part of her knew she was quite possibly pushing him too far, but she realized there was no turning back at this point.
“Brielle, stop. Ye’ mustn’t say another word.”
The tears that had hung on tightly to her long lashes fell now and she sobbed, “Big dark warrior with a heart of stone, but a heart so tender, he never got over the loss of his lady. And in his grief, he holds that lady here, bound; never able to leave because ye’ canna’ let her go. For ye’ see Ruiri, she knows I love ye’. She spoke to me in a dream. She begged me to unlock that heart of stone.”
Rory jumped to his feet, spilling water all over the floor. That was it. He had lost his final shred of restraint. He looked murderous. Brielle’s eyes widened in panic. She backed up slowly.
“Take it back, Brielle.”
This time he hadn’t raised his voice, but his tone was much more deadly.
“I will not!”
“Ye’ are a liar!”
“I am not!”
“Ye’ did not speak to her. T’is impossible.”
She continued to back away from him and she said, “I did… just last night. Ye’ see her in yer’ dreams…why is it impossible for me to?”
Brielle tried not to look at the part of him no longer hidden under the water. Hot heat flooded her face, as she could not seem to turn her gaze away. Dear God, he was huge.
She swallowed and stammered, “I…I dreamed of Caitlyn…last night.”
Stepping out of the vat he started to stalk Brielle.
“Dunna’ make me wreak violence on ye’, Brielle. Ye’ need to take back yer’ lies.”
His voice was lethal. It didn’t even sound like him. He sounded different. He was affected and it was frightening. She swallowed down her fear. She somehow didn’t doubt he could kill her with his bare hands.
“I will not take it back. I saw her by a crystal pond. She said she was yer’ past and that ye’ keep her in the world of dreams and that….”
Rory had been backing her slowly up against the wall. His expression was more tortured and violent. Brielle felt him pin her arms over her head. She winced, more from fear. He was no longer able to see her pain.
She blurted out, “She begged me to save ye.”
“I dunna' need ye’ to save me.”
“Don't you, Rory? Caitlyn knew who I was. She wants me to help ye’. Her love fer ye’ still exists, even though, ye’ hold her here, ne'er releasing her from the chains that keep her earthbound.”
“No! T’is not true!”
“It is true and you know it,” she dared. “She loves ye’ still but fears ye’ are in danger.”
At this revelation, Rory slid slowly to the floor, holding his hands over his ears as if to blot out what Brielle had said; as if he could ever blot that out. Anguish was tearing at his heart. His heart burned in his chest. His fist slammed the floor and he cried out, “No!”
It was such a sound of despair; Brielle forgot her fear. She sank down next to him.
She couldn’t be telling the truth. She must be some sort of witch to invade his dreams that way, he thought. “Get away from me, you lying witch!”
Brielle almost wished he had slapped her. His words stung harder than anything his hands could have done. She persisted, gently stroking his hair.
“Nay, Ruiri, I have not lied to ye’.”
She placed a kiss to the side of his face. He was in so much pain; Brielle thought she almost could not bear to witness it. She touched him and tried to soothe him. His breathing was labored and she knew he was fighting a personal battle inside himself.
“I have no reason to lie to you.”
With that, his restraint broke. He pushed her down beneath him and he growled down at her. “Ye’ have every reason. Ye’ are a lying Campbell. Ye’ seek to destroy me and all that is mine as yer' brothers have before you. I am yer’ enemy.”
Brielle was terrified. “I am not yer’ enemy,” she stammered. She felt him pushing her skirts up. Dear God, he was bent on raping her.
She cried, “No, Ruiri. Not like this….”
“Why, Bitch? This is what ye’ wanted all along, trying to seduce me to draw me into yer’ lair.”
“Nay, dunna’ do this,” she said struggling beneath him. He was so big and strong. She knew any efforts would be futile against him. She tried to push him off, but she might as well have tried to push off the castle wall. She had wanted him, so very much, but not like this; not with rape and violence. His hands roughly handled her thighs, trying to force her legs open with his knee.
She screamed and said, “No, Please Ruiri…ye’ are an honorable man. I know ye’ live by yer’ honor. Please dunna’ do this thing.”
And then, as if her words hit a raw nerve, he rolled off of her, stunned. Dear God! What had gotten into him? He had never forced a lass in his entire life, that is, until this moment. Brielle scrambled to her feet and stood horrified. She was shaking and crying.
Regret hit Rory like a fist. He shook off the violence and began to walk toward Brielle. He saw she was visibly shaken and terrified.
“Dunna’ come near me,” she commanded.
“Brielle…I’m so sorry. T’was just that yer’ lies….”
Brielle’s hand, swift and stinging, slapped him hard across his face. “I dinna’ lie. I told ye’ the truth but ye’ll not have it. Ye’ wish to live among the dead rather than join the living in love and life. Go ahead, then. Live with a cold corpse of a memory. Go ahead and save yourself, Ruiri MacCollum.”
She fumbled with the key in her pocket and she was able to finally free herself from the solar.
Despite her injuries and painful stiffness, she ran from the solar and nearly collided with Caleb. He caught her, but she started screaming, “No…noooo…let me go. Let me go!”
“What in the hell is going on, Brielle? There, there, lassie. Calm yourself.”
She was sobbing. Caleb tried to stroke her face, but she pushed him away.
“Nay, dunna’ touch me. Men and their violent ways...dunna' dare touch me.”
Caleb only held her tighter against his chest till she stopped struggling and fighting against him. Sobs wracked her. Her clothes were soaked and wrinkled. Her hair was tousled.
“What happened, lass?”
“Ruiri--he--tried to….” She couldn’t speak the words. It was too horrible.
“Did he hurt ye?”
She just sobbed into Caleb’s chest and nodded.
“Where is he?”
She sobbed, “In the solar.”
Caleb called for one of the serving women and he said, “Take Lady Brielle to her chamber. See she is brought a drink. Find Morag and bring her to the lady.”
The woman bobbed a curtsy and took Brielle’s arm in hers. “Come, Miss. T’is alright, now.”
Caleb stormed into the solar, sending the door crashing on its hinges,
nearly causing it to splinter. Ruiri still stood there, eyes cast down. His face was hot from where Brielle had slapped him. It was a burning reminder of what he had just done.
“What the hell happened here, Ruiri? What did ye’ do to her?”
Rory spoke slowly, still feeling the effects of the dark rage that had shaken him to his core.
“She was telling lies…about her…saying she spoke to her in a dream.”
“Spoke to who?”
“Her…Her! Caitlyn!”
Finally he said her name. Once again, Rory was unaware that tears streaked his face. He looked up at his father. He said, “Dear God, I almost raped her.”
“Ruiri, no…how could ye’?”
Rory shook his head. “I dunna’ know. It was like her words…her lies, just made something break inside me and I wanted to make her pay for it.”
“Did ye’ hurt her?”
Rory looked down, not able to face his father.
“Did ye’ hurt her,” Caleb demanded.
Rory nodded. “Aye. I think so.”
“You think so? What did ye’ do to her?”
Rory swallowed hard. “I…pushed her. She hit her hip against the tub. I pinned her down and I tried to force her.”
Caleb was horrified. “Did ye’ force her?”
Rory shook his head. “No, but I am sure my body hurt her where she is already so bruised. Dear God, Da’, what the hell is wrong with me?”
Caleb’s eyes flashed angrily at his son. “Grief, but it is a poison in ye’. That girl would not hurt ye’. She is so in love with ye’. She would not lie to ye’.”
“Da, she said she talked to Caitlyn.”
“Why would she lie about that?”
Rory gritted his teeth. “She is a Campbell,” he spat, but even as he said the words, he remembered his own dream of Caitlyn last night. Was it possible Brielle was telling the truth?
“Campbell or no, she does not deserve to be raped. I am ashamed of you.”