“We are.” He tilted up her chin until she was forced to meet his eyes. “And to do so, you need to be honest with me. You just became part of my band of warriors set to save the future King. So tell me, what is it in your past or mayhap even in your future that makes you so brave now?”
“Can’t bravery just be part of who I am,” she murmured, her lips suddenly throbbing. She licked then pressed them together, unsure of her body’s strong reaction.
“Why won’t you just tell me,” he said softly. “About this fear within you that has made you so bloody strong.”
She wanted to say, “Is that what you see? Strength?” but it would work against her case so she said, “Life. Simple as that. Being a single girl in the twenty-first century isn’t all that easy.”
Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Again you fib.” He leaned closer, so close that mere inches remained between them. Their height difference was substantial, but he had lowered enough that his mouth was only a few inches above hers. “I need honesty from my warriors.” Then he whispered, “From ye, my lass.”
His lass? “I’m being honest.” Sort of. Not really.
It became hard to breathe as her eyes focused on his lips, on the way they parted slightly as if ready to close over hers. She stopped breathing altogether when his hand wrapped around the back of her neck and he leaned his forehead against hers.
She barely heard his words they were so soft. “Bloody hell, lass, this is torture.”
A deep throb shot through her and she squeezed her thighs together. Moisture seemed to break out over every inch of her skin. Her mouth went dry then grew wet all at once. Her lower lip started to tremble and she worked to drag in a shallow breath. Torture? Was that the word he used? Whatever she was feeling now felt far worse…or better. It was impossible to know.
Logan’s lips didn’t meet hers but instead brushed her cheek then fell by her ear. His breathing was harsh, irregular, his body pressing against hers. It was then that she felt the hardness against her stomach. His arousal. Damn, then double damn. A sharp shiver went through her and she pressed her hands against the rock wall. Because if she didn’t she was going to wrap her arms around him and never, ever let go.
At first she thought the loud cry she heard was the increased buzzing of blood rushing through her. Desire. Yet when he stepped away, she knew it was not. Torn from someplace she didn’t recognize, Cassie realized a man was wailing.
“Come.” Logan pulled her after him. He released her hand when they returned to the main hallway and ordered her to stay put. Worried, drawn by the mournful cries, she inched along the wall as women came and went from a chamber. Peeking around the corner, she put a hand over her mouth as a woman arched and flailed in bed. Soaked in sweat, her brown hair was plastered to her head, skin pale and eyes vacant.
A man tried to hold her down, tears in his eyes as Lair chanted over her. Logan rushed in and helped restrain her. She released an ungodly scream as she clawed at everyone. Though it was impossible to be sure having seen her from a distance, Cassie was fairly positive that this was Aline MacLauchlin.
“Shh, lass, all is well,” Logan murmured, stroking her cheek. “Ye are safe. Always safe with the MacLomains.”
“They killed everyone,” she cried, eyes unseeing. “They killed my wee bairn. I tried to stop them, but they…they…”
“Shh.” Logan pressed his face close. “‘Tis all right, lass. ‘Tis all right.”
Horrified tears rolled down Cassie’s face as she watched. What hell had this woman witnessed?
“Please, lass, stay with me,” the man on her other side whimpered, coming as close as Logan. “Dinnae cross over, aye?”
Lair chanted louder until the woman at last calmed, her body jerking slightly as she fell back.
“Everyone out save my women," Lair said.
Logan eyed her. “Are ye sure?”
“Out,” she repeated.
“Aye.” Logan grabbed the other man when he shook his head. “Yer coming with me, lad.”
Held by the scruff of his tunic, Logan led him past Cassie then down the stairs to the great hall. Everyone left as Logan didn’t quite shove him into a chair but wasn’t necessarily gentle either. Not sure what she should do, Cassie trailed down the stairs, grateful when a servant handed her a mug of ale.
“Come.” Logan gestured to her. “Sit with us.”
Cassie was surprised when Niall came alongside and murmured, “Sit by me, lass, as the Laird is in a bad mood indeed.”
She never thought she would be so glad to see his intimidating cousin. “Sounds good.”
The foreign man was sweating profusely, his worried gaze torn between the landing above and the MacLomain Laird standing in front of the fire with his arms crossed over his chest. Cassie sat in a chair beside Niall and took a good long swallow of ale. It was rough going down, but it warmed her belly.
“I’ve not had the pleasure of making yer acquaintance,” Logan said to the stranger, his brogue thick and his r’s rolling. “Who might ye be?”
The man sat up a little straighter, hands shaking as he wrapped them in his lap. “Ye already know who I am, Laird MacLomain. Husband to Aline MacLauchlin.”
“So that is yer name then?” Logan said. “Husband to Aline MacLauchlin?”
The man stilled and though he might be afraid there was something else altogether in his eyes when they met Logan’s. “I am Baird.” His voice lowered. “Baird of the Stewart Clan.”
Logan’s eyes flickered with surprise. “Nay, I dinnae believe it. The Stewarts wouldnae betray the MacLomains.”
Baird’s eyes held Logan’s and Cassie had to give him credit for not throwing his clan under the bus. “The Stewarts dinnae know of our marriage. ‘Twas done in secret.”
“Did ye know she was promised to marry me?”
Baird’s eyes again flickered to the landing above before lazily, almost arrogantly dropping to Logan’s. “Aye, I knew it.”
A fury unlike what she saw earlier lit Logan’s eyes as he grabbed a sword off the wall. “Ye bloody bastard.”
“Och, I thought we’d get in a wee bit more talking before fighting, but something beyond the obvious has m’laird’s blood stirred up.” Niall chuckled, grabbed a blade off the wall and tossed it to Baird before he winked at Cassie. “Best to give the fool half a chance, aye?”
Cassie gasped when Niall shoved the table aside with his foot then yanked their chairs back before plunking down beside her and taking a swig of ale. “Now ‘tis time to enjoy a good fight.” He shrugged, grinning. “Mayhap.”
“What the hell?” she started but snapped her mouth shut when Logan drove his blade against Baird’s. The Stewart might be distressed, but he met Logan’s sword with force and skill even as he was driven across the hall.
Niall kept chuckling until he realized she was watching him. “Why are you looking at me like that, lass?”
“Because you’re enabling this!” she cried. When she made to stand, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back down.
“The Laird needs to defend his honor.” Niall shook his head and nodded at her mug. “Drink and let things happen as they will. This isnae a battle you need to interfere with.”
Frowning, she tensed as swords clashed. Logan was vicious and as far as she could tell the better fighter as he slashed his blade against Baird’s. His arm muscles bulged, seen much easier thanks to his sleeveless tunic. “This is..is..is…”
“Is what?” Niall said.
Eyes glued to Logan she murmured, “Crazy.” When Baird spun away and slashed back, Logan dodged and the slight lull she had been under vanished. Her eyes shot to Niall. “You need to stop this.”
“Och, nay, I’ll do no such thing.” He offered a crooked grin. “Logan has every right to fight this man.”
“Why? Because he married the woman he was meant for.” She shook her head. “Hey, Logan’s no saint. What about…”
She trailed off, surprised by what she nearly said.
&nb
sp; Niall arched his brow. “What about what?” He kept on grinning. “His desire for you?”
Way to be blunt. “No, that’s not what I was getting at.”
His eyes darted between the warring men who had already managed to knock over half a dozen chairs. “‘Tis exactly what you were getting at.” When the men came close, Niall kicked a chair and Baird tripped backwards. He fell on his ass, squirming as he kept meeting Logan’s blade from the floor. “The difference is Baird was part of breaking a vow when 'twas still in the making. You are part of breaking a vow after ‘twas already broken.”
Logan slashed his sword and knicked Baird’s shoulder. Fueled by pain, Baird scrambled after Logan. Niall, casual as could be, again pulled their chairs back further and out of the men’s way as he continued talking. “Do you ken, lass?”
“I don’t ken a damn thing,” she said as Baird slammed Logan to the floor.
“Well, you need to.” Niall took another long swig and laughed as Logan flipped Baird. Over and over they went until they were once more on their feet and clashing swords.
“Aren’t you worried about your cousin?” she seethed.
Niall cocked his head one way then the other as he studied their fighting. “Nay, not really, but ‘tis well matched this fight.”
“And that’s bad.” She frowned, took a deep sip of ale then muttered, “Really bad.”
“Nay.” Niall shrugged. “Not so bad at all.”
Clang. Clang. Clang.
Metal rang against metal as they fought on chairs, then tables then up and down the stairs. “This is beyond ridiculous.”
“This is how Scotsmen settle things,” Niall murmured.
She was about to say yet again exactly what she thought of that when the battling men once more headed in their direction.
“Oh God,” she cried when Logan drove Baird toward them so fast that he landed on his back at her feet.
Logan braced his legs on either side of Baird and held the tip of his sword against the man’s lower sternum.
“Ye married another lad’s lass,” Logan roared.
Before Baird could respond, Niall crouched and put a dagger to his neck, words soft. “What have ye to say to that, Stewart? It had best be something worth hearing.”
Baird swallowed and though his eyes remained rebellious his words were not. “We fell in love when bairns. Who are ye to take my lass from me?”
Niall tightened the blade. “Ye address my laird the proper way when in his castle.”
“Nay,” Logan said, words soft but still hard, his blade unwavering as his eyes held Baird’s. “Did ye truly love her since ye were bairns?”
“I have loved Aline MacLauchlin since first I laid eyes on her,” Baird ground out, even as a tear trickled down his cheek. “How could I not?”
“Yet ye knew she was betrothed to me. Promised to another, a MacLomain no less, your ally.” Logan shook his head. “How did ye right that with yer conscience, lad?”
Baird relaxed beneath the blades meant to kill him, closed his eyes and murmured, “There is no controlling the conscience when it comes to true love. It just is what it is.”
Logan’s brows shot together and he inhaled sharply, jaw grinding as he pressed his blade tighter against Baird’s chest. Yet he made no further move, just stared at the man.
Niall’s eyes went to Logan’s face, but he made no move.
He was waiting for his Laird’s orders.
When Logan spoke, he said the last thing she expected. “Ye fight well, Stewart and I will offer ye a way to redeem yerself. A way that our clans might not see ye as the traitor ye are.”
Baird’s eyes narrowed. “And what do ye propose.”
“M’laird,” Niall ground out, pressing his dagger tighter. "What do ye propose, m'laird."
“M’laird,” Baird croaked, the defiance never leaving his eyes.
Logan tossed aside his blade and crouched, secure enough in Niall’s dagger as he leaned close. “I need something of you.” Cassie blinked once and Niall’s dagger was in Logan’s hand, wedged tight against Baird’s neck as the MacLomain came almost nose to nose with the man. “I need a good warrior by my side on my upcoming quest.” He pressed the blade tighter. “Will ye travel and fight for me?” Then he offered a grin that by no means met his eyes. “Some might say ye owe it to me, aye?”
All the while, Cassie drank, baffled by what she watched. No history book could have ever prepared her for this. These men were notably insane.
Every. Last. One. Of. Them.
“M’laird.”
Logan’s eyes went to Lair on the landing. Their gazes held for a long moment and she knew the news wasn’t good. His eyes fell to Baird’s. “Yer wife struggles for her life. Will ye make right by her and fight for me?”
Cassie shook her head. Baird should be by his wife’s side if she was dying. “This is wrong."
But she might as well have said nothing because she was completely ignored as Logan and Baird stared at one another. Long, silent, seeking, their eyes held before the Stewart whispered, “Only if ye’ll see her well, m’laird.”
Again their eyes held, searching out one another’s, before Logan at last spoke. “I will.”
The second he said it, Niall pulled away and sat beside Cassie. This time there was no grin on his lips or even a chuckle.
When Baird stumbled to his feet, eager to return to Aline’s side, Logan grabbed his wrist. “Might I be by yer side now warrior?”
Baird swallowed, not sure at first. A long minute passed, the men eyeing one another before he nodded and they left.
“They want to kill each other one second now they’re best buds,” Cassie muttered as she stood to follow, but Niall pulled her after him before she could get too far.
“The lass has a truly hard time ahead of her. As do you. Let us go to the stables.”
Cassie staggered after him, determined to go in the opposite direction, but Niall was having none of it.
“You need to spend time with your horse, Athdara now, lass,” Niall said. “After all, she is your best hope of surviving the journey ahead.”
Chapter Eight
LOGAN SIGHED AND hung his head as Aline MacLauchlin struggled for her life. Nothing seemed to work. Lair had tried her best with healing magic, but the poor lass would likely lose an arm. Baird sat on the bed with his wife’s head in his lap, stroking her hair as she suffered through a fever.
“Ye will stay with her until her fever breaks and ye know she is well enough,” Logan said softly. “Then ye can pursue me and my warriors.”
Baird nodded, eyes never leaving her face.
“‘Tis my fondest hope that she makes a speedy recovery,” Logan said.
“Aye,” Baird whispered. His pained eyes skirted over her arm.
Was Logan still upset? No. In truth, he had not been all that upset about Aline’s betrayal but by how injured she was. The devastation of her people…the loss of her son. “And I’m so verra sorry about yer wee bairn. Know that when ye ride with me and my men ‘twill be part of a quest that will avenge the harm done.”
Baird swallowed and again nodded, his jaw tight. “Aye, ‘tis good that, m’laird.” His eyes went to Logan. “And ye have my endless thanks for yer help.” He inhaled deeply and shook his head, voice soft. “And may ye forgive my transgressions. May ye forgive me for marrying yer lass.”
Logan considered him for a long moment. “Ye have my forgiveness, lad. What we did below stairs had to be done but ‘twill be known by the MacLauchlins and Stewarts that yer paying yer debt by fighting for me.”
He stood, murmured a brief prayer for Aline’s recovery then paused at the door. “The MacLauchlins will also know that the arranged betrothal betwixt Aline and I is no more. That with my blessing, she has taken another.”
Baird’s eyes went to his, churning with deep emotion. His words were hoarse. “Thank ye, Laird MacLomain. That is most generous of ye, indeed.”
Logan said nothing but left, his m
ood dark as he headed down to the great hall. While he was certainly irritated by the betrayal of his betrothed, he was also relieved. It had never been a particularly easy thing being promised to someone he'd never met. But though he tried to keep telling himself that was the only reason, he knew better.
His desire and need for Cassie was remarkable. Increasing. Unavoidable.
Cassie.
A lass who was clearly going to be the death of him.
Logan tied back his hair with a swath of plaid and pulled his favorite broadsword off the wall before he strode out the door toward the stables. He still couldn't believe that she had managed to commit herself to this quest. Though he understood her reasons and admired her for them, it continued to infuriate him. That was the real reason he had battled with Baird so viciously. He needed to get out his aggression. Not to say the battling itself didn’t need to be done. It did. For the sake of not only his honor but his clan.
The MacLomains would have every right to cease their ties with the MacLauchlins based on Aline’s actions. Not to mention the Stewart clan. And that tie was deep and long and far too important to forfeit. So it was best Logan made a show of it with Baird then grant forgiveness afterward.
All was well that ended well.
But then things, in general, were not all that well at all.
Robert the Bruce had been kidnapped and Logan had no idea by whom. Grant’s warning about evil being afoot was alarming. Scotland hadn’t dealt with anything quite like that since the Next Generation of MacLomains had battled Keir Hamilton almost thirty winters prior.
If all of that wasn’t enough, his mind kept returning to his Da. Something had distressed him greatly when he looked at Cassie’s ring. But what? Logan knew his Ma wore a ring like that, but he was trying his damndest to put that from his mind. Because if something was wrong with his mother, focusing on what lay ahead would be nearly impossible. And right now he needed to be incredibly focused. He had promised his Da and the Countess. More than that he had promised the wee Bruce before he was even born.
As he knew she would be, Cassie was with Athdara. Strapping the sword to his back, he watched her for a few minutes. He couldn't help but contemplate what she had shared about her time in New Hampshire. How she saw him on her horse in a vision. Then her connection to him as a bairn in the picture. What was that all about? As a wizard, he should have felt something when they first met. Not to say he hadn’t felt anything. He had.
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