How to Handle a Highlander

by Mary Wine

  She’d never been nude in bed before. Her skin was ultrasensitive, and she wiggled about, trying to become comfortable. But it was impossible for her to relax. Time felt suspended, every minute a tiny eternity while she strained to hear the doors opening again. A log fell in the hearth, sending sparks flying in a scarlet shower. The flames drew her attention as they danced, consuming the wood until it all collapsed into a bed of glowing red embers. The thick coverlet warmed her feet, and her eyes slid shut, the last few restless nights taking their toll on her.

  ***

  The church bell woke her again.

  Moira rubbed her eyes and sat up, her body protesting after two nights of restlessness.

  “A right fetching sight ye are, Wife.”

  The blood drained from her face, and she turned to look at Achaius. He was lying back on the mound of pillows, splotches from his supper marring the sleeve of his shirt. He still had his boots on, but his kilt was tangled around his feet.

  “And yer tits are mouthwatering.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest a scant moment before the door burst open.

  “We’ve come for the sheet!” one of his captains announced.

  Horror stifled any protest she might have made, and she was tugged out of the bed while still fighting to speak.

  “Have at me, lads! Yer laird still knows how to enjoy a juicy treat!”

  Achaius’s retainers helped him out of the bed. Moira’s heart was pounding as she waited for the accusations to begin flying. Bari might well beat her to death, and there would be no one to believe she was still a virgin.

  But the sheet wasn’t clean. Marring its creamy surface was a dark stain that delighted the men. They tore it off the bed and took it to the window. Moments later, it hung outside the window of the keep, and a cheer rose from the yard.

  How? It made no sense.

  Was it a miracle? She scoffed at herself. The Lord above certainly had more important things to use His divine power on.

  The retainers filed out with smiles on their faces as Fann gently placed the dressing robe around her shoulders.

  “Come with me, mistress.”

  Moira looked back at Achaius, expecting to see rage on his face. Instead, he licked his lips and winked at her.

  “I do enjoy being wed, lass, indeed I do.”

  The men dressing him chuckled. “The sheet proves that sure enough, Laird,” one offered.

  Fann urged her toward the door as Moira tried to recall the night hours. Try as she might, there was no memory of her husband’s arrival.

  Yet the sheet was bloodied.

  When they were back in her chamber, Moira stole a moment to check the insides of her thighs. But they were clean, proving that her monthly courses hadn’t arrived at the most inopportune time.

  To be sure, more than one bride had flown a bloodied sheet and not been pure on the night of her wedding. But she hadn’t employed any deception—not that anyone would believe her if it were discovered she was still a maiden. She sat down on a stool and rubbed her forehead. Her wedding night was behind her, and still the worst was yet to come.

  When had she angered fate so badly?

  ***

  Achaius laughed for a long time. He flexed his hand, looking at the cut between his fingers. It would heal soon enough, and his little bride had never noticed it. He began to cough, this time the fit lasting for quite some time.

  Mornings were becoming harder, his coughing fits more prolonged. His lungs seemed to fill at night. But it was nothing good whiskey wouldn’t cut through, so he poured himself a measure and swallowed it. His throat was burning as he poured a second cup, then sipped at it. He was celebrating.

  Achaius knew Moira Fraser had a fire in her belly, one that would see her refusing to settle for watching life pass her by. All he needed was to dangle her in front of Gahan Sutherland. Once the man made a grab for her, she’d take what she thought was her only chance to know the touch of a young man. Every woman was a wanton at her core. Just as every man was a savage.

  When thrown together, they would not be able to resist answering passion’s call.

  ***

  “Can we leave now?”

  Gahan shot a dark glare at his brother. The wedding sheet was flapping in the morning breeze to the delight of the Mathesons and Frasers. Their glee disgusted him.

  He had to stop to determine why he was so furious. It should have been because the two clans were united against his own. But the truth burned in his gut. It was jealousy, pure and simple. The stained sheet drove home the fact that Moira had given herself to Achaius. The man was her husband, for Christ’s sake. Gahan knew he should have been able to use that fact to temper his rising envy, but it wasn’t having any effect.

  “Aye, we’re leaving,” he snapped. At least distance would help get Moira out of his thoughts.

  “Nae so fast, young Gahan. I insist ye stay a bit longer.”

  Gahan turned to find Achaius making his way toward them. Cam tugged on his bonnet, but Gahan’s hands were clenched into fists at his sides. There was a smirk on the old laird’s face that made him want to hit Achaius.

  “I have matters to attend to, Laird Matheson. We have already lingered here too long. I will inform me father of yer wedding,” Gahan told him.

  “No, no.” Achaius reached them and had to pause a moment to catch his breath. “Ye were right, lad.”

  “About what?” An insane twist of excitement flared through him, but behind Achaius, the soiled sheet flapped in the morning breeze, confirming there would be no announcement that Moira was free.

  “Right to scold me for nae sending word to yer father of me union with sweet Moira. When ye are as old as I, every day becomes more precious.” He chuckled and coughed. “At least that’s the best reason I’ve got.”

  “The deed is done.” The words stuck in Gahan’s throat.

  Achaius licked his lips. “Aye, I know it well, but I’ve a mind to ride back to Dunrobin with ye to tell yer father of me actions.”

  “I can do the telling.”

  The old laird straightened and looked him in the eye. There was a gleam of something in the old man’s eyes that sent suspicion snaking through Gahan’s gut. It looked almost like the man was only playing at being feeble.

  “I know me duty as surely as ye do. Yer father is me overlord, and I need to tell the man meself. The weather is fine, and a ride would do me well. There is nothing like a new bride to restore a man’s vigor. Me men will be ready to ride out after they fill their bellies.”

  Achaius turned and made his way into the keep again. Cam stepped up beside Gahan.

  “Are ye really going to allow him along?”

  “Do ye have a reason to tell him no?” Gahan shot his sibling a hard look. “One me father will nae have a problem with?”

  “Since he’s united with the Frasers, aye, I can think of one,” Cam hinted.

  Gahan’s expression became grim. “I wonder if I should nae have mentioned that little fact last night. I think Laird Matheson might just be interested in knowing he isn’t wed to Bari’s only sister.”

  “I’d bet on that. Tell them both that Sandra is still alive. At least we’ll have an end to this.”

  “An end that would happen when Bari Fraser tries to kill me.” Gahan indulged himself in a pleased grin. “But me father would nae be pleased with me spilling blood under a vassal’s roof.”

  Cam shook his head slowly, but Gahan didn’t regret his words. “This game is nae to my liking. I prefer me fights out in the open. Nae with secrets clinging to me boots.”

  “Most men do,” Cam said, “but ye are nae a common man, and the nobles are always waging their battles in the shadows.”

  “Aye. Which is why I cannae tell Achaius no. If we do, he’ll cry to one and all that we slighted him.”

  “Bari will no doubt make good use of that,” Cam agreed. “At least it will remove ye from here and the fascination ye seem to have with Moira Fraser.”

&
nbsp; “She’s another man’s wife now.”

  Cam shrugged. “Ye say the words, but the look in yer eyes tells me ye want to smash Achaius in the jaw. She’s under yer skin.”

  “Nay, she is nae.”

  Gahan turned his back on his brother, but it wasn’t so easy to brush aside the truth of his words. He was spoiling for a fight. Maybe he’d let Bari Fraser know his sister Sandra was still alive and locked up in the oldest tower at Dunrobin Castle. The bitch should be dead, but neither he nor Norris had the stomach for hanging her. It was not the Highlander way. Maybe Bari and his father had no reservation about sending a woman to do their dirty work, but in the end, Gahan hadn’t been able to bring himself to order her execution.

  So she stayed at Dunrobin.

  Taking Achaius to Dunrobin could well see that fact uncovered, because servants talked. No castle was without spies or those looking to improve their lot by selling secrets.

  ***

  “What do ye mean ye are heading to Dunrobin?” Bari asked.

  “It is simple enough,” Achaius said. “I failed in me duty, and I intend to apologize to me overlord.”

  “We have an alliance.”

  “Indeed we do, lad.” Achaius finished his breakfast and belched. “I always keep me word when the dowry has been paid.”

  Bari leaned closer to him to keep their words from drifting. “Then why are ye going to Dunrobin?”

  “Ye truly are newly weaned from yer mother’s tit,” Achaius replied. “If I have the opportunity to inspect the defenses of me foe before the fighting begins, I would be a fool nae to take it.”

  Achaius slapped the table. “Someone go wake me bride! I’ve no doubt she is nae here because I gave her little chance to rest last night, but we have duties to attend to.”

  “Ye intend to take Moira?” Bari asked. “I do nae think that is wise.”

  Achaius was on his feet and making ready to leave the high table. He froze and shot a hard look at Bari.

  “She is me wife now. She’s going to help me soothe the ruffled feathers of me overlord—something ye should be doing too, since yer sister Sandra tried to kill him. Remember yer place, Bari Fraser. The Earl of Sutherland is also yer overlord. Get yer men together and saddle the horses. We’re riding north.”

  ***

  “Like hell Bari Fraser is riding with us.”

  Cam was furious, and so were half the Sutherland retainers. They clustered around him as they waited to see what their orders would be. They might be bound to obey him, but more than one Highlander laird had learned that loyalty was best earned. Highlanders did not follow fools for long.

  “Let him. It will save us the trouble of watching him.” Gahan surveyed the faces of his men. “It’s going to be entertaining to see him try to convince me father that he had naught to do with Sandra’s actions.”

  A few grins appeared, and most of the men nodded. Their eyes were bright with their hunger for vengeance. He moved toward his horse, but Cam followed.

  “And Moira? Ye are set to allow her to ride with us?”

  Gahan tugged on a strap. “Aye,” he answered. “There is no reason to deny her.” He knew he shouldn’t feel glad about her traveling north with them, but he was filled with satisfaction all the same.

  “Oh, there is reason—and a good one.” Cam smoothed a hand along the neck of Gahan’s stallion. “Ye watch her like a hungry wolf. Are ye thinking to follow yer brother’s example in bringing home a woman to keep?”

  “She’s another man’s wife now. I won’t be doing any more watching.”

  Gahan shot his brother a hard look. Cam held his stare for a long moment before nodding. He reached up and tugged on the corner of his bonnet before going to see to his own horse. It granted Gahan a moment to relax his grip on his emotions. Hiding his pleasure was hard because Cam was right; he did watch Moira too closely. The reason eluded him, but the need to continue to be near her remained.

  It was almost suspicious the way fate was keeping her near him, but he wasn’t in the mood to question forces beyond his control.

  ***

  She was leaving.

  Moira had to squelch the urge to skip down the stairs like a little girl. Two Matheson retainers trailed her, making it imperative that she maintain dignified behavior. Yet it was almost impossible.

  She was going with Gahan after all…That idea gave her pause. She stopped on the steps, and Fann bumped into her. The stairs were narrow, and she went stumbling down them until someone hooked her around the waist to stop her fall. He lifted her off her feet then set her gently down on the bottom step.

  “I hope that is nae a sampling of how adept ye are at traveling, Lady Matheson.”

  Gahan’s tone darkened when he spoke her title. It sounded wrong and felt wrong, too. Unconsummated meant the union might be dissolved. Which filled her with happiness.

  “Nay…I am normally sure-footed.”

  But ye are a deceiver…

  The sunlight didn’t quite reach inside the keep yet. She was grateful for the poor light, because she felt her cheeks flushing. The burn increased when she realized Gahan was scowling because he thought she had bedded her husband.

  No man had ever been jealous of her.

  But he wasn’t jealous, she reminded herself. He was scheming against Bari…

  “Good. We need to depart. It will take us most of the day to make MacLeod land.”

  “I understood we were bound for Dunrobin,” she said, puzzled.

  Gahan hooked his hands into his belt and watched her. He seemed even more formidable today—and disapproving. His harsh expression stung.

  “I know who me friends are and will be spending the night on their land. Nae out in the open.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  He was on guard this morning; his captain stood only a foot from his back. There was a formality that made her long for the man she’d encountered in the darkness. But she would not see him again.

  Because ye refused him…

  “Yer mistress will need a surcoat,” he said, addressing Fann. “There is still snow at Dunrobin.”

  “What do ye have on yer feet?” he asked gruffly.

  Moira hesitated to show him her shoes. He and his retainers wore thick, well-made boots that laced over antler-horn buttons up to their knees. They had to be wonderful to wear when the snow was blowing.

  “Show me.” His tone rang with authority, and there was no mercy in his expression, only the unrelenting look of a man who was accustomed to being obeyed. She caught the fabric of her overdress and tugged it up.

  “My sister’s shoes are nae yer concern,” Bari said from the doorway that opened to the yard.

  “They are when I’m taking her north. I’ve no need to hear ye saying she took ill because of me actions. Ye’ve already said far too much about me, and none of it was good. The Sutherlands do nae crave trouble with the Frasers.”

  Gahan turned in a flash, the longer back pleats of his kilt whipping up. Bari jerked back, clearly surprised by how fast Gahan moved. Her brother’s lips curled into a snarl.

  “Ye’ll stay away from her, bastard.”

  “She’s a wed woman now and beyond yer control,” Gahan replied. There was a touch of satisfaction in his voice that clearly enraged Bari.

  “Indeed she is wed,” Achaius agreed from behind Bari. “And I’m a good provider for those who are mine.” He pointed at Fann. “Get yer mistress ready. The sunlight is wasting.”

  Fann reached for her elbow, but Moira found it hard to turn around. The air was thick with tension. Achaius turned and left, leaving the two men facing off. Bari looked like he might lunge at Gahan.

  “Try it,” Gahan taunted. “I’m the one who handed the poison to yer sister Sandra, and I’ll be happy to have ye know it.”

  “Ye did what?” Bari screeched.

  Gahan shrugged. He reached behind him and pushed Moira up the stairs and out of the way. She gasped, because he seemed so intent on her brother, yet he knew e
xactly where she was. A pair of Matheson retainers snapped out of their daze and reached down to grab her and lift her several steps above the impending fight.

  “I thought it rather fitting. Sandra poisoned me father, so I gave her enough poison to end her own life.”

  “That is suicide,” Bari roared. “Ye damned her to hell, ye bastard!”

  “That’s where she belongs.”

  Bari threw a punch at Gahan’s jaw, but it never connected. Gahan lifted his foot and planted it in the center of Bari’s chest and sent him flying through the doorway. Gahan’s men surged after him as Moira twisted free and followed.

  Bari was facedown in the dirt. He bellowed with outrage as he scrambled to his feet. But Achaius shouted over his sputtering.

  “How dare ye attack me overlord’s son in me castle!”

  Matheson retainers rushed Bari and had him restrained before the Frasers realized their intent. There were more Matheson retainers than Fraser, and they pushed Bari’s men back.

  “He gave me sister poison!”

  “I tossed it onto the bunk next to her. Which is less than she deserved for coating me father’s goblet with it. Hanging was too simple for her crime.”

  “Ye had no right to deny her soul salvation!”

  Achaius smacked Bari across the mouth. There was more strength in the old man than it appeared, because Bari went stumbling. Matheson retainers hauled him up from the ground and held him for their laird.

  “He had every right,” Achaius declared. “I would have broken every one of her fingers and left her alive for a month before I hanged her. Ye’ll ride north with us and make yer peace with the earl, or I will send this sister back to ye.”

  “Ye cannae undo what has been done,” Bari argued. He shook off the men holding him, but they only eased off, remaining a half pace behind him as a warning. Her brother pointed at the sheet. “Ye are wed.”

  “I am laird here. I can do as I will. Nae many men would fault me for turning out the kin of a poisoner. If ye do nae make yer peace with the earl, I say ye knew of yer sister’s treachery. I’ll keep no kin of yers as wife.”

  She should have been horrified. But she found herself hoping Bari would refuse to bend. It was more than a hope; part of her was desperate to escape. What had seemed impossible was suddenly a flicker of possibility.