Highland Master

by Amanda Scott

  “Aye, then, I will. But you don’t fool me, Fin of the Battles. God-a-mercy, but we are going to battle mightily if you forbid me to do the things I most enjoy.”

  “All married people battle, sweetheart.” Seeing her eyes widen at the endearment, he wanted to kiss her. But he needed to be sure they understood each other first. “Art truly willing, Cat—even if we must marry tomorrow?”

  “Will you have to go away soon?”

  “I mean to talk to Davy about that, to request leave so I can take you to meet my family. I promise you won’t have to stay with them if I have to rejoin him soon, though. I’ll bring you back here before I do. I should have other options, too, but it will take time to sort them out.”

  “That is what you meant about this complicating your life, is it not?”

  “It is, aye. Answer my question now. Art sure?”

  “Do you think that anyone is ever sure about such things?”

  “I know that I am.”

  “Are you?” She searched his eyes. “Then I am, too.”

  He kissed her then, and she responded at once, melting against him as she had before, her lips warm and soft beneath his. He kissed her many times, lightly and then more possessively. The thought that she would be his wife on the morrow stimulated every part of him and one in particular.

  She felt his cock move, too, because her eyes widened again. When he thrust his tongue into her mouth, she moaned softly, and that moan was nearly his undoing. He wanted to sweep her up and carry her straight to her bed.

  Reminding himself that Ailvie would be there, he went on kissing Catriona, stroking her slender body, achingly aware that it would soon be his to possess.

  As he eased a hand gently over one soft breast, a double rap sounded on the door. The door opened on the sound, and the Mackintosh walked in.

  Fin’s wandering hand moved quickly back to her waist. She had stiffened and would have pulled away, but he held her where she was.

  “Forgive the intrusion, lad,” Mackintosh said. “I’ve talked with Rothesay and Alex, and I thought ye should hear what we have decided.”

  Again, Catriona stirred as if to step away, and this time, Fin allowed it. As he did, he said pointedly, “I do want to hear what you would suggest, sir.”

  “Aye, well, ’tis more of a consensus, as ye might say. Sithee, Rothesay has agreed that a morning wedding will suit him. He also reminded me that Donald will be impatient to get on with our discussions. He’s proving right difficult, is Donald. So I said we should dispense with everyone save the four of us until we sort out what exactly, if anything, Donald and Alex can agree to do for their cousin Davy.”

  “I’m guessing that Donald will agree to do nowt for him,” Fin said.

  “Mayhap that is so,” Mackintosh said. “But whilst their so-called advisors make more trouble than not, as they have, we cannot know. Now, our James will stay for the wedding, but he wants to leave for Inverness afterward with Morag. They’ll stay the night at Moigh, he said, and I thought that ye two might like to stay there, as well. Ye’d sleep in my chamber, for James has his own rooms above it.”

  Fin glanced at Catriona, but her grandfather did not allow for discussion.

  “Ye’ll have a few days to yourselves,” he said, “whilst we sort an agreement out here. Then, when Rothesay is ready to depart, you can return. Sithee, Moigh sits just fifteen miles away, and the coming back takes less time than the going.”

  Fin said, “ ’Tis a generous offer, sir, that we will gladly accept. But I mean to talk to Rothesay about more generous leave. If he agrees, I’ll take Catriona to meet my family before we return.”

  “Aye, well, ye’ll decide that for yourself, I expect, or Davy will. In the event, ye’re always welcome here and at Moigh, so there be nae more to say about that. As for ye, lassie,” he said, turning to Catriona. “What d’ye say to all this now?”

  “I’m willing, sir,” she said, flushing deeply. “I… I must apologize to you, though, for my behavior earlier. I let my temper overcome me, sir.”

  “Ye did, aye, but ye should be apologizing to your father as well, lass.”

  When she nibbled her lower lip, Fin felt a strong protective urge to say that that might wait. But he knew the Mackintosh was right, so he held his peace.

  Catriona wondered if she knew what she was doing. Her grandfather was acting as he always did with her, gruff and stern but kindly withal. Still, he would do nothing to make her apology to Shaw easier. Nor, by the look of Fin, would he.

  For that matter, she had known all along what she would have to do.

  “I will do it straightaway,” she said. “Did you and Rothesay decide exactly when this wedding is to take place, sir? Before we break our fast, or after?”

  “Before,” her grandfather said. “That way, ye and the lad here can have a wedding feast and Rothesay and the others can meet after your party has gone.”

  Fin said, “I’ve been wondering, sir, just what the situation is between Clan Chattan and Clan Cameron. I know our truce is still in effect, but I’ve heard—”

  “Whatever ye’ve heard be nobbut mischief dreamed up by them who would keep us busy fighting each other, lad,” the Mackintosh said firmly. “If the truce betwixt our two clans should fail, it will not be Clan Chattan that breaks it. Nor do I believe that any Cameron leader wants aught at present save peace.”

  “Thank you, sir. I had heard only whispers, but in such a case…”

  “Aye, one’s imagination can feed all manner of bad cess into one’s mind. Let it rest, expect the best, and all will be well. I’ve a notion that a day or two at Moigh will ease your mind considerably. The place does have that effect.”

  A strange sensation stirred in Catriona as her thoughts drifted. She would sleep with Fin at Moigh. The thought stirred her imagination, serving up images of what that might be like. The image of him walking naked on the shore lingered longer than most, so when she realized that he was watching her, heat flamed in her cheeks. It spread quickly then through the rest of her as well.

  “Is Shaw still in the hall?” Fin asked, bringing her instantly back to earth.

  “Aye, he must be,” Mackintosh said. “He said he would await my return.”

  “Then I suggest that we see him and then send this lass upstairs to her maidservant. They have much to do before they sleep to prepare for the morrow.”

  Catriona did not think it mattered how much she and Ailvie had to do. She would not sleep a wink.

  Fin opened the door for her, and she saw Shaw standing just beyond it in the hall. He was clearly on the watch for them, because he came to meet her at once.

  “Lassie,” he said.

  “I’m sorry I was so rude to you, sir,” she said at the same time.

  “Aye, me, too,” he said, pulling her close. “Ye deserved a good smack, lass, but ye didna deserve to bear it in front of yon rascally Rothesay and Alex Stewart.”

  Glancing around to be sure that those gentlemen were not also still in the hall, Catriona said, “In troth, sir, had you not stopped me as you did, I fear that I might have said more than I should. Sithee, I was so angry that I was not thinking. I did not even see Rothesay or Alex Stewart until you silenced me. As it was, I am not sure but that Rothesay may have guessed I’d made the whole thing up. Do you truly believe it would not have been better just to admit it and apologize to him.”

  “I am, lass. This all amuses him now, which renders him harmless. But he is a powerful man and gey reckless. To learn that ye’d lied to him would soon lead him to imagine that others were laughing at him, which would lead next to a sense of deep offense. To offend the powerful is unwise at any time, lassie, and best to avoid.”

  “What did Granddad tell him?”

  “Only that it never paid to rush a woman. He said he’d learned that lesson in his youth from your grandame, and he assured Rothesay that putting off the ceremony until morning would make ye gey happier and thus serve us all better.”

  Glanc
ing at Fin, she saw him frown and waited for him to explain why. He said nothing, however, and she accepted his lead by bidding her father and grandfather goodnight. Then she let Fin escort her to her chamber.

  “Ailvie will be in there,” she said as they neared her door. “Grandame said that she would send her up, and I’m sure she must have done so by now.”

  “Come here then,” he said, pulling her close and tilting her chin so that he could kiss her again.

  She leaned into him as he did, savoring the warmth of his hard body against hers as well as his kisses. After a long and pleasant time, she said, “What made you frown so when Granddad told us what he had said to Rothesay?”

  Without hesitation, he said, “Rothesay thinks only in terms of women making him happy, never in terms of considering any woman’s wishes. He may still ask me some pointed questions about all this. You are not to worry, though. I have managed to work with and for him these past years without incurring much of his wrath. I was just thinking about what he might ask and how I might answer him.”

  “He can be gey charming,” Catriona said with a rueful smile.

  “Aye, and he does trade on that charm, too. But your Ailvie will hear us if we keep talking out here, sweetheart, and this is no place for such a conversation. So, kiss me again, and then it’s bed for you.”

  She obeyed, although there was much more that she would have liked to discuss with him. When he reached to open the door, she said, “I am glad that James and Morag are going to see her family, for she has missed them. But I do wish that they were not traveling with us. I want to know more about you, Fin of the Battles, and such a journey without them would give us more time to talk.”

  “Aye, but we’ll find time for talking,” he said, lightly pinching her earlobe. Then, after one more kiss, he said, “Get thee in, sweetheart, and sleep.”

  “I do not think you can command me yet,” she said. “I am not yet your wife.”

  “True. Now go.”

  She went.

  Stirling Castle

  The Duke of Albany was reviewing accounts with his steward when a minion announced Sir Martin Redmyre. Signing to the steward to leave and telling Redmyre to take a seat, he waited until the door had shut and said, “You have learned more.”

  “Aye, my lord duke. My man heard two days ago that the Mackintosh was apparently in daily expectation of visitors at Rothiemurchus Castle. It lies—”

  “I don’t care where it lies, Martin. Who are these visitors?”

  “Comyn called them ‘grand lairds,’ sir. Three of them, his kinsman said.”

  “Three?”

  “Aye, and Davy did meet with your nephew Alex Stewart in Perth, and with Shaw MacGillivray, who is now Laird of Rothiemurchus and good-son to the Mackintosh. No one seems to know the third one, but I’d guess it must be Donald.”

  “So would I if I could imagine how Donald could cross the entire western Highlands from the Isles to get to Clan Chattan country. But if Davy allies with Alex… I’ll want to think about that. How long do they mean to be there?”

  “I don’t know, but my man promises that the Comyns have devised a plan to keep them where they are long enough for us to get there. However, if you are thinking of sending someone at once to catch them conspiring together, whoever you send may meet with difficulty. There are, as you must know, only two possible routes for a force of any size.”

  “I know the one through Glen Garry. Is there another at this time of year?”

  “Aye, sure, or so Comyn said. The other is through the Cairngorms to the east. Its snowy passes must be hazardous, but he swears that the route is feasible by now.”

  “I’ve no intention of risking myself on such a route. This country needs me. But you will take my men and your own that way. If Glen Garry is the easier route, I’ll send the Earl of Douglas that way. He can gather his Border army quickly, and he has much the same reason as your own to interfere with any plan of Davy’s. After all, the Douglas’s sister is Davy’s unhappy wife. Also, Redmyre…”

  “Aye,” the other man said, raising his eyebrows.

  “If your men there can hold them for you, you know what will serve me best.”

  “I do, my lord. I do, indeed.”

  Satisfied, but not one to count a deed done until it was, Albany dismissed him.

  Fin would have liked to go straight to his own bed, for although it was still relatively early, he had had his fill of emotion for the day. However, he knew that he would be wise to ask Rothesay straightaway for leave to take Catriona to Moigh and, if Davy would spare him longer, straight on to Tor Castle.

  Finding the hall empty of everyone except those trying to sleep there, he went to Rothesay’s chamber.

  The gillie who always slept on a pallet before the door was awake. Scrambling to his feet, the lad said, “My lord duke did say ye’d come, sir.”

  “I want to see him if he is still awake,” Fin said.

  “Aye, he said ye might wish it. But he said tae tell ye he’d be fast asleep by now.” Glancing toward the door when sounds came from within that included a feminine giggle, the lad said stoutly, “He’ll talk wi’ ye on the morrow, sir. Afore the wedding, he did say. Be there going tae be a wedding, Sir Fin?”

  “Aye,” Fin said, wondering if the Mackintosh or Shaw knew that Rothesay had a woman in his bed. He hoped that she was as willing as she sounded and a maidservant rather than a noblewoman or a Mackintosh tenant’s wife.

  On that thought, an image of the redoubtable Lady Annis rose in his mind, so he was chuckling when he added, “If you see him when he wakens, tell him that I do hope to speak with him privately before the ceremony. You may fetch me from my chamber as soon as he finds it convenient.”

  Returning to his room, he woke the dozing Ian and informed him of the wedding and the journey to follow while Ian aided his preparations for bed. Having little to pack, he soon sent Ian to bed in the hall as usual, and put out his candle.

  Lying in bed, he wondered if Catriona was asleep yet and how different things might have been—or if they would have ended up the same—had he insisted on continuing to Moigh the day they had met. If the arrow had killed him, he would never have met her. But what if the arrow had just missed him and he had returned to Rothiemurchus in a normal way after learning that the Mackintosh was there?

  Would the Mackintosh ever have trusted him alone with her then? Or was it the fact that they had been alone in the woods that had made the man trust him?

  As he tried to imagine how the order of things might have progressed, the images faded and dreams of Catriona in his arms replaced them.

  When he awoke with the dawn, he was sweating, erect, and annoyed that a most satisfactory dream had ended moments too soon with the entrance into his chamber of gray, early-morning light.

  The night before, the thought of marrying her had produced delightful, sensual anticipation. Now it produced a clearer, much more urgent desire for her.

  Rising hastily, he dressed himself without waiting for Ian and waited impatiently for Rothesay’s lad to fetch him.

  “Take off your shift for me, lass,” Fin said, smiling in much the same hungry way that Rory Comyn had always smiled at her. But Fin’s smile did not discomfit her… at least, not in the same way that Comyn’s had.

  Feelings roared through her body much as the river Spey roared in full spate through Strathspey after a mighty rainstorm or when the high snows were melting fast and racing into it from every rill, rivulet, and burn.

  She gazed up at Fin from under her lashes, wondering what he would do if she refused to obey his command. A husband, after all, had every right to command his wife, but if he thought that he was going to order her every breath and step from his wedding day forward, he was in for a fine surprise.

  Faith, but she was flirting with him, with her own husband, whilst he stood naked before her, his eagerness plain… and she with only a thin shift to protect her.

  “Take it off, Catriona,” he said, mov
ing toward her. She felt his warm hand on her bare upper arm and heard a low, rumbling moan in his throat…

  Catriona awoke with annoyance to discover that the low rumbling sound in her dream, as well as the warmth against her upper arm, was merely Boreas’s kitten curled up against her, purring loudly.

  As she lay wondering if her interesting dream might otherwise have included what else would happen when she lay naked beside Fin, a memory flitted through her mind. Her grandmother had been talking to Ealga about Morag.

  “James should be more masterful with that lass,” Lady Annis had said tartly. “Faith, but he should give her a good hiding to cure her low spirits.”

  Catriona’s mother had protested that James was rather more prone to lecture a woman than to behave masterfully. But Lady Annis had said, “Pish tush, he must learn to take a firmer hand if he would stop her complaints. All women prefer men who will stand up for themselves to those who will not.”

  Catriona had a strong feeling that she would never complain of Fin’s failure to stand up for himself. She was not as sure as her grandmother seemed to be that she would prefer that he always be masterful.

  Ailvie’s entrance put an end to her fantasies, so she got up to prepare for what promised to be a long day. When she descended to the great hall a half-hour later, she found everyone else gathered near the huge fireplace, waiting for her.

  Swallowing, hoping she was not making a mistake that would end in misery as Morag’s had, she obeyed her father’s gesture and went to stand beside him.

  As she did, she heard Rothesay say in a voice that carried to every corner of the hall, “But of course you cannot ride off with the lass before you consummate your marriage, Fin. Bless us, man, it will not be a real marriage until you do.”

  Conscious of a strong desire to throttle Rothesay, and not for the first time, Fin said, “We are eager to consummate our union, sir. But I’d liefer reach Moigh at a good hour than linger here. James and his lady ride with us and are eager to be off.”