To Conquer a Highlander

by Mary Wine

  Torin didn’t care who heard him, because he knew it was being whispered behind his back. His cousin Lundy was beginning to raise his voice now, telling one and all that he would be the next Laird McLeren.

  “More likely, yer mistresses have repaid yer loyalty by making sure they didn’t conceive. Women have their ways, but it is getting time for ye to wed and silence Lundy. The man is making my head ache.”

  “That’s the first time ye have joined the crowd telling me to contract a wife.”

  Connor slipped a bridle over his horse’s head. “This business with the king has me thinking. I need to consider what mess I’d leave behind if I died out on the hills beneath the moonlight I like to ride through so much.” Connor turned a hard look on him. “I plan to marry before summer is finished, and I suggest ye think of doing the same. The pair of us both have several cousins all in line to inherit behind us, and there would be fighting if we left no heirs. We’re no longer boys to be thinking our lives do nae affect others.”

  “Aye, we’re grown, and that’s a truth. It is time I took to courting a bride.”

  “Well I am nae sure about this strategy ye seem to be employing of setting a guard on the lass. That didna gain ye any of her favor. Ye’d better find another way to charm her.”

  “You think Shannon McBoyd would make a good bride for me?”

  Connor offered him a smirk. “I think it will be amusing to watch ye try and slip a bridle onto her. That lass is not impressed with yer McLeren lairdship.”

  Torin muttered a profane word that drew a chuckle from his friend.

  Connor pulled his stallion forward. His men were waiting in the courtyard for him. They preferred to ride at night. In spite of his light coloring, Connor was a man who embraced the shadows. It was the thing that Torin liked best about him.

  Torin suddenly chuckled at the smirk sitting on Connor’s lips.

  “Do nae worry about how I’ll gain her favor, just be very sure that I will.”

  Connor swung up onto his horse’s back. The stallion wore no saddle, only a thick blanket secured with a wide length of leather. Connor Lindsey had been raised by a resentful aunt who never allowed him to forget the fact that his mother wasn’t married on the day that she birthed him. He’d been denied things that were noble, such as saddles. He clung to some of those things to remind everyone that he was proud of who he was in spite of their opinions.

  “Maybe ye will, and then again, maybe I’ll have to return and run ye through because it’s more Christian than watching ye suffer.”

  With a wolfish smile, his fellow laird took to the bridge. His men followed, and the gate lowered behind them. The sun was gone, night began to capture the last of the daylight. Torin watched his men light the torches set along the wall inside the yard to keep it lit. Along the walls there would be others who went without light so that they could see in the dark.

  He could smell her.

  Shannon’s scent clung to his body, sweet and spicy. He battled the urge to confront her and turned to the task of caring for his horse instead. There was no point in arguing with her. She was his. If that required him to hold her captive, so be it. Connor’s words were sounding more and more logical, but he admitted that it was more than logic behind his idea of wedding Shannon McBoyd. Part of him wanted a woman who didn’t come to him by her father’s command. His parents had loved each other, and it was something that too few in the world understood the value of. He craved that, longed for a woman who would take him and nothing else, even if his lairdship were stripped away at first light.

  Someone like Shannon McBoyd, who accepted him as her lover but lifted her nose at the sight of Laird McLeren and his commands.

  He snorted. It was possible he’d found the most perfect woman in Scotland.

  ***

  Baeth watched her bathe.

  Shannon felt the weight of the woman’s stare but kept at the task of cleaning Torin’s scent from her skin. She forced herself to continue even as regret clawed at her. There was no other choice. She had been foolish to believe that taking a lover was a choice she might make. Her father had been right to keep her virgin. She’d have to begin praying that her sin did not bear fruit.

  “Yer thoughts are too deep, lass.”

  Shannon jumped, and the water betrayed her by splashing up and over the rim of the tub. “I am simply tired.”

  Baeth raised an eyebrow at the tone Shannon used. The older woman moved further into the room. Shannon felt her heart freeze between beats as she realized what the older woman had draped over her arm.

  It was a McLeren arisaid, and the head of house was intent on taking her McBoyd one.

  “Stop.”

  Shannon stood up as Baeth was reaching for the wool set neatly on the top of a stool.

  “Why, lass?” Baeth turned to look at her. “Is there something better waiting for ye back on yer father’s land?” She reached down and pulled the soiled undergown off the stool, shaking it loose so that the dark stain was clearly exposed.

  “Ye should take the place ye have earned.”

  Earned? The only place she had earned was that of a leman.

  “Accepting anything would make me a whore.”

  Baeth clicked her tongue in reprimand. “You need to learn that life is nae so often a matter of black versus white, girl.”

  “In this case it is. If I take anything for my favors, ’tis a prostitute I am.”

  Baeth shook her head. But the head of house turned and left. It wasn’t until she’d disappeared through the doorway that Shannon recalled that her undergown was still in the woman’s possession. She felt the sting of tears once more and sat back down to finish rinsing the soap from her hair.

  She wiped the water from her eyes when she heard Baeth’s steps reentering the bathing room.

  “You’ll be using this and no argument, lass, or I shall fetch the laird to decide the matter.”

  A clean undergown was in her hands, and her expression was tight.

  “Mine will be well with a good washing.”

  Baeth grunted. “Which will nae be happening tonight.”

  Shannon stood up and dried off her body before reaching for the garment Baeth held out toward her. She wanted to refuse it, but the idea of dealing with Torin was not to her liking. It was a fact that she had no resistance in her when it came to him. If ever she’d thought there were truly spells and magic in the world, her fascination with Torin McLeren proved that she’d become the victim of such dark forces. She donned the undergown in spite of her reluctance. Torin would consider it a challenge if she refused. She didn’t have the will to battle with him so soon. Tomorrow would be different. Once the sun rose, the magic spells inhabiting the darkness would fade, leaving her able to think.

  Baeth held out the McLeren arisaid.

  “I am McBoyd. Donning McLeren colors will not temper anyone’s opinion toward me.”

  Or her children. It was black-and-white, without any hint of anything else.

  “What ye are is stubborn. Did ye not plan to be accepted by the family that ye were being sent to marry into?”

  “I am not married.” Shannon looked at the offered arisaid and shook her head. “Not even hand fasted. But I thank ye for being kind to me.”

  Baeth scoffed, disapproval clear on her face. The head of house shook her head.

  “Stubborn. Far too stubborn.”

  ***

  Shannon watched dawn break on May morn. Sitting in her window with the shutters wide open, she stared at the horizon. Pink fingers of light appeared first, like a hand reaching over a ledge. More light pushed against the night, until the darkness evaporated in a golden flood.

  Her hair was still contained in the long braid that trailed down her back. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, but she resisted the impulse to pull off the tie that held the strands.

/>   Her impulses had already led her too far astray.

  Below her window, she heard laughter. The girls of the McLeren clan began running toward the gate and the maypole in the village. Music drifted up from the pipers and drums. Men played at their instruments while walking among the merry girls.

  She would not go.

  It was settled.

  She made her way down the stairs to the kitchens. Only a few women remained to tend the hearths, all of them married, and they looked at her with knowing eyes, the fact that they considered her claimed by their laird apparent. Maybe she wasn’t wed, but when it came to a girl that was warming the laird’s bed, the other men would be expected to ignore her.

  Well, that was what embracing free will had gained her. She wasn’t completely repentant. There was a part of her that had enjoyed it full well. Deep down inside her was a woman content in knowing what it was like to decide whom she gave her virginity to. Just like every other member of the clan, her body had been the property of the laird. Lads were expected to swear their loyalty and fight when needed, while the girls were expected to marry up and produce more loyal McBoyds. Being the laird’s daughter only meant that she was expected to serve in a different manner; her body was to be traded for an alliance.

  Well, that had not been the case yesterday.

  Call her disloyal, fine; she would wear the label proudly. Because along with that went the feeling that she was a woman. She’d never expected it to mean so much to her, never really realized that she longed to make her own decision about who used her flesh. That was the reward for standing up to the looks being cast her way today, judgmental looks, narrowing of the eyes from the other women.

  At least there was plenty to do. It kept everyone busy and their lips sealed. Brockton remained behind as well. The burly Scot appeared as unhappy about his posting as Shannon was. He was more diligent than before, only taking his eyes off her when another man appeared to take charge of her. His constant presence set her on edge. An ache formed in the center of her shoulders before noon, and it had naught to do with the work she was doing.

  The day dragged on endlessly. Each hour felt like three, and the merriment drifting in on the breeze grated against her straining nerves.

  Was Torin lying with another? A girl who wasn’t refusing to dance about the maypole? He was the laird and expected to attend the merriment. She caught herself looking toward the maypole with a yearning that threatened to make her weep.

  She was ready to weep with relief when the sun finally set and the last of the supper chores were finished. The chamber she’d been given had suddenly transformed from a prison into a sanctuary. At least it would offer her privacy and relief from the constant presence of Torin’s guard.

  She pushed the door shut a little too hard behind her, and it slammed. But that didn’t keep her from leaning against it and sighing. She heard the guard walking away, his steps echoing on the stone steps. The window shutters were still wide open. Shannon stared at them, recognizing that the McLeren women had declined to do anything to ensure her comfort today. The maids closed all the shutters at sunset to conserve the heat inside the tower. A quick glance at the fireplace showed her a cold and dark pile of ashes that had not been shoveled out either.

  She would not care about it. The spring evening was not bitter. Stars twinkled in the dark fabric of the night sky, beckoning her toward the open window to enjoy them. It was enchanting. Magical and hypnotizing, even the crispness of the air was alluring. It turned her cheeks cold, and when she breathed it deeply into her chest, it felt renewing, like a bath. It was strange the way the soul longed to frolic outside while logic told you to remain indoors where there was shelter.

  She began to pull her braid free. The breeze tugged at the curls that had worked their way free during the day. She suddenly needed to feel her hair loose. Denying herself the privilege of wearing her hair down had been a strain, and her self-discipline was worn thin now. Reaching around to where her overgown was tied, she undid it and pulled off the thicker garment. Soon she’d happily wear her new spring dress because it was made of a thinner wool. Her undergown was free to billow away from her body now, the air teasing her legs. A tiny ripple of awareness moved along her legs and up to her sex. She was more aware of that spot than she’d ever been before. A slight soreness marked the passage of her innocence, but what captured her attention more was the certain knowledge of how much pleasure might be had when she surrendered.

  When she surrendered to Torin, that was. There wasn’t another man she’d ever met who made her body tingle with hunger. It was a blunt fact, but at least she might take solace in knowing that she was not a slut who sought tumbles with any man willing to entertain her.

  Her father would certainly consider her attraction to Torin McLeren worse than being a slut, but she could not help the fact that she admired the man. He was kind when no one would blame him for being harsh, and he was a man of honor, not one who used the word when it suited him. She realized that she trusted him. That was something that she’d never had before, for every man wearing her father’s colors would have done whatever her sire demanded. Torin McLeren would not be bending to anyone, but he didn’t use that authority to take her against her will. That was what drew her to him; it was the reason she’d struggled against her urges to taste him again in spite of the irresponsibility of such an act. She wanted to be his lover, and there was no way to deny that. It sat gnawing away at her belly, flickering in the little nub at the top of her sex while the darkness sang to her of ages and ages of trysts that had happened beneath its velvet curtain. With only her undergown on, she felt her breasts hanging more naturally. A sense of her femininity seemed to wrap around her, and it brought a smile to her lips.

  Picking up a comb, she began to work it through her hair. Below the window, the water of the loch slapped sharply against the boulders that rose above its surface. She continued to brush out her hair, leaving the shutters open. The sound of the water was inspiring, helping to drive away the hopelessness that was trying to sink into her thoughts again.

  “There’s something I was hoping to see this morning.”

  Shannon gasped, and the comb went clattering onto the floor. She whirled around to face the man she’d been thinking about most of the day. Torin was only two paces away, plenty close enough to reach out and grasp her if she started to fall out of the window yet again.

  “You should nae…” Her words trailed off because the look on his face was captivating. She’d never considered herself a pretty woman, but the expression on Torin’s face proclaimed her lovely.

  “And ye should nae have hidden in the kitchen on May morn.” His lips thinned. “You do nae know how many times I wanted to find ye and carry ye off over my shoulder, Shannon.”

  “Is that some sort of threat that I’m expected to heed?”

  He shrugged. “It is the truth.”

  His gaze traced her hair, and his expression became one of pure male appreciation. He reached out, one of those large hands intent on touching her.

  She stepped aside, edging along the wall. “Ye should go. I’m sure ye didna suffer any lack of invitations today.” Her voice was low because she feared that he’d hear how weak she was when it came to him. Better to keep her shame private. Beneath her loose gown, her nipples beaded and clamored for his lips to taste them once again. She forced her feet to move away from him again because her belly was turning into a cauldron of hot need and she couldn’t seem to halt the rise of desire.

  “If ye had nae hidden here, ye would know that my people know that I am not a man who enjoys quick tumbles for the sake of satisfying my lust.”

  Torin turned and followed her with slow steps that kept the space between them exactly the same every time that she moved. The end of her bed brought her up short, her eyes widening when she realized she’d moved toward the very place that she did not want Torin to get her to. />
  “But I admit that part of me enjoys knowing ye hid from me inside me own tower.”

  She stiffened. “Ye made sure of that with yer guard set to watch my every step, Laird McLeren.” She used his title because it would have been so easy to allow the look in his eyes to melt her resolve.

  “Fault me if you like, Shannon, but I was nae willing to take the chance that ye would try and run. Because I am laird, I canno’ keep my own eyes on ye the entire day long. I assure ye I would like nothing better.”

  He sounded sincere, and she was hungry for his embrace to shelter her from the harsher realities of life. But those arms would not be hers when dawn broke.

  “It would be better if ye left.”

  Torin crossed his arms over his chest, his dark eyes considering her intently. They narrowed slightly, betraying the fact that he was not as calm as he appeared.

  “Ye enjoyed my touch full well, Shannon.”

  Male satisfaction edged his words, but he did not grin at her. His face had taken on a hard look, one that she recognized from the night they’d met. The Highlander in him was not going to back down easily. But neither was she.

  Her hands settled on her hips. “That does nae mean I plan to warm yer bed every night henceforth. If that were true, I’d be wearing yer colors to make it plain that I am yer leman. Baeth tried to give them to me.”

  He stiffened. “And ye refused my plaid after yielding yer purity to me?”

  “I did.”

  Her tone drew an instant response from him. The muscle on the side of his jaw twitched, but she was only granted a moment to notice it. Torin moved as fast as lightning once again, reaching out for her and grasping her wrist. He lifted her arm up and leaned toward her while lowering his body down onto one knee. With a quick jerk on her hand, she tumbled toward him and over his broad shoulder. He surged back up to his full height, taking her with him. Her hair instantly fell down to wrap around her head and block her ability to see. Torin turned and only paused when he got to the door to her chamber. Without any hesitation, he took her right through the doorway and began climbing the stairs to the floor above, where his chamber was. He took the steps three at a time, his longer strides making it a simple matter. She clamped down on her urge to hiss an angry protest at him. The stairs were in a narrow corridor built out of stone, and every sound echoed along their length. Just as she could hear someone coming up the stairs, anyone on the other floors would hear her berating Torin for his current behavior.