How to Handle a Highlander

by Mary Wine

  “Laird MacLeod, we have no formal agreement for me sister, and I have other offers for her. I ask to depart with her,” Bari said.

  Saer turned to face off with Bari. He stood half a foot taller than her brother and looked far harder. “ I invited ye here for a wedding because she is yer sister. If ye are nae here for the celebration, ye made a long trip for naught. No one will be telling me what to do on me own land.”

  There were several answering grunts from the MacLeod retainers.

  “Ye’re wedding her without a dowry?” Bari inquired suspiciously.

  “She’s heir to the Fraser clan. And I hear rumors ye’re making ready to feud with the Sutherlands. Since ye have done naught to produce an heir of your own, once ye’re gone, our son will inherit everything.” Saer captured Sandra’s wrist and pulled her along with him toward the table. “That’s gain enough for me.”

  “That was promised to me when I wed Moira,” Achaius said through gritted teeth. Everyone turned to look at Achaius. The old man was furious.

  “Sandra is the elder sister,” Saer replied. “Who told ye she was dead?”

  “Those bastard Sutherlands,” Bari raged.

  Saer slammed a fist on the table.

  “The Sutherlands are me overlord. No man shall sully their name beneath me roof.” He turned to face Achaius. “It does nae matter what ye thought. Sandra is the elder sister. Her blood inherits,” Saer stated. “The evening is ended.”

  The musicians stood and lowered themselves, then left. The men and women who had been sitting at the lower tables began to leave the hall. Maids started clearing the tables and pinching out the candles. The hall was no longer bright, merely light enough so cleaning might be done.

  Saer left, taking Sandra with him. She cast a long look back at her brother before disappearing into the passageway.

  “Take yer mistress upstairs,” Achaius ordered two of his men.

  “I’ll take her,” Kael Grant offered in a low tone. “I would nae see ye leave yer back unguarded with the way young Fraser is glaring at ye.”

  “Ye have me thanks,” Achaius said.

  Kael pulled Moira’s chair back for her. One look at his face made it clear staying wasn’t an option. Her temper heated in response to the expectation in his eyes.

  Let them fight. She was sick of their pettiness.

  At least the hallways were quiet, but very few lanterns were left burning. The MacLeods were still recovering from being raided after their last laird followed the defeated King James III at the battle of Sauchieburn against his son. It had divided Scotland, which made it vital for men like the Earl of Sutherland to maintain alliances.

  ***

  Gahan waited for Moira to pass him by. The passageways were cloaked in deep shadows, granting him all the shelter he needed. Kael slowed his step, allowing her to lengthen the space between them. Once Moira’s foot landed on the first step, Kael offered Gahan his hand. Gahan clasped his wrist before changing places with him. Moira never looked behind her and Gahan kept his chin down. He was taller than Kael but in the darkened stairway, he hoped the retainers wouldn’t look too closely.

  ***

  Two Matheson retainers stood outside the door of the chamber Saer’s head of house had shown her to for the night. They tugged on the corner of their caps for Kael. But they left quickly when they realized their laird wasn’t with Moira. She turned and lowered herself.

  “Thank ye—” The words froze on her lips when she looked at the face of the man beside her. He swept her inside the room and shut the door as she struggled to believe what was right in front of her.

  “Ye shaved yer beard.” He shrugged as she continued to look him over. “And ye’re wearing the wrong colors, Gahan Sutherland.”

  “So are ye, Moira, for ye are nae Lady Matheson.”

  She began to reach for him but pulled her hand back. “Why are ye here?”

  His gaze cut through the doubts clouding her thinking.

  “I’m here for ye, Moira. Do nae think ye can tell me ye love me and then expect never to see me again.”

  “Ye would nae be the first man who cared little for affection from a woman ye’ve already had.”

  He grasped her wrist and tugged her into his embrace. “I do nae think a lifetime will be long enough for me to say I’ve had me fill of ye. Do ye think I’d wear the colors of another clan for any reason beyond love?”

  She sighed, because it really felt like she belonged there in his arms. Tears flooded her eyes, and her knees felt weak. She flattened her hands against his chest and smoothed her fingers over the ridges of muscles. She felt his heart beat and buried her face against his chest to muffle a sob.

  He held her head and kissed it. He tightened his arms around her as though he might never let her go.

  “But…it’s impossible.”

  “Nay, it is nae. Defeat is nae a word I know.”

  He stroked her cheek then lowered his face to seal her lips with his. It was a sweet meeting of mouths, a slow reunion that stole her breath. He teased her lips, tracing their delicate surfaces with his lips, then began using his tongue to taste her. She reached for him, needing to hold him. The kiss changed as she moved, passion taking root inside her. It was blistering hot and sprang up in an inferno that could not be tamed.

  But she didn’t want to control it. All she wanted was Gahan.

  “I cannae be near ye without wanting ye,” he whispered.

  They weren’t polished words, but she found them more complimentary than any she’d heard. The rough timbre of his voice betrayed a need that matched the one eating at her. She wanted to steal the moment. Ensure it was not wasted. She reached down, rubbing her hand along his thigh to the hem of his kilt. Her fingertips found bare skin, and she drew her hand up and along the inside of his thigh.

  “Moira…”

  She lifted her chin. “Ye cannae expect me to temper me passion when all we have ever had is stolen moments.”

  “A fact I plan to change.”

  She stopped just short of touching the sac that hung beneath his member. “I see…Should I behave meself?”

  “I hope not.” His teeth were bared, and his lips pulled back farther when she stroked the skin enclosing his seed. “I think I’d beg ye nae to.”

  “Ye are nae a man who begs.”

  “I’m willing to make an exception for ye.”

  She made it to his staff and drew her fingers up its length. He closed his eyes for a moment, pleasure taking command of his features. It was a savage sort of delight, primal and hard. Yet it stroked the part of her that enjoyed his touch. The creature she’d never suspected lived inside her, just waiting for the right touch to awaken it.

  She was fully aroused now, the flames of passion burning hotter. He pressed a kiss against her neck and then another, then groaned.

  “I promise, the next time I have ye, nothing will tear me away.”

  He lifted her up and pinned her against the wall. She clasped his hips and pulled him toward her. There was no thinking, no contemplating, no intrusion from her common sense at all.

  There was only Gahan. It felt like it had been months since she’d had him. Her body filled with delight and rushed toward climax. It was over too soon, frustrating both of them. Gahan let her down, turning her around and hugging her tight. He leaned against the wall, and she found his embrace far preferable to the bed waiting inside the chamber. The bed would be cold and lonely. The shadows offered her the warm embrace of her lover. Yet it was dangerous.

  “Ye must go.” She tried to push the arm around her waist aside. “I still have a husband.”

  “Do nae call him that. He never consummated the union. This is the Highlands,” Gahan insisted. “No man takes a wife he cannae use.”

  It was blunt, but she appreciated the sound of it.

  Ye’re just hearing what ye want to…

  And believing such things might get Gahan killed.

  “He will never admit to it, and his men will
run ye through if ye are discovered here.”

  His arms tightened for a moment, then he kissed the top of her head and inhaled the scent of her hair. In spite of the satisfaction still glowing in her belly, she felt the stir of renewed need. He released her.

  “Ye’re right, but I plan to put an end to this tonight.” He moved over to a table and picked up a sack. “These are for ye.”

  He pulled a pair of boots from the bag and set them on the table.

  “Achaius will become suspicious if I wear them.”

  Gahan’s eyes narrowed. “I doubt it. The man is below stairs, no doubt haggling over the shade of yer inheritance, like a head of cattle. He spares no thought to yer personal comfort.”

  “It is so in most marriages.”

  Gahan tipped one boot toward her to reveal a sheath sewn into its side. He pulled on a piece of antler, which looked the same as the other buttons used to close the boot, and drew a thin dagger from it.

  “Be careful when ye push it into place. The blade is sharp and strong.” He handed them to her. “Put them on and do nae take them off.”

  “Ye want me to sleep in them?” She was already sitting down on a stool, eager to have warm toes. The boots were made of thick, soft leather. They’d cover her ankles, and had been oiled to make them waterproof. Since her father’s death, she had not worn anything so fine.

  “No one is going to sleep tonight,” Gahan said grimly. “Murder is on the mind of more than one man inside this keep, and I want to know ye have some means of protecting yerself.”

  He watched her lace the first boot closed. She grasped the antler horn handle and pulled it free. The candlelight flickered on the blade glimmering with folds that looked like small stars.

  “This is Damascus steel. It’s the only steel strong enough to be forged this thin and nae break,” Gahan told her.

  “It is too expensive a gift for me,” Moira said. She pushed it back into the sheath and reached for the knot she’d tied off the lace with.

  Gahan grasped her chin to bring her gaze to his. His eyes flashed with determination. “Ye are worth it, Moira. Sandra is an accomplished assassin. Do nae trust her or let her too close. If ye even suspect she is acting strangely, put that blade through her throat. I wish I could keep ye guarded, but—”

  “But I wed Achaius.” She stood and stroked the side of his face. “I thought it would bring peace. The women on Fraser land, they begged me to try and make him happy so he’d nae be in the mood to join with Bari in his feud.”

  “I’d never respected ye so much as when I watched ye walk to the church.” Pain filled his eyes, but also admiration. “Ye were as strong as any man I’ve seen going into battle.” He drew in a deep breath. “Yet the battle has nae yet been fought. Wear the boots and do nae trust anyone. I am going to make sure Bari is pushed past his endurance. I’ve had enough of this shadow fighting.”

  He turned, the longer pleats of his kilt flaring out in the back.

  “I trust ye.”

  He turned and smiled at her. “And I love ye.”

  She held her breath as he opened the door and left.

  Her face split with a smile so big the corners of her mouth felt like they were being stretched. She hugged herself and turned in a circle, because she just couldn’t stay still. Her skirts flared out and settled down as she sat down to put on her second boot.

  The smile melted as she listened to the silence of the chamber. So much was unsettled, and her future lay in the outcome. Once she put on the second boot, she stood up and began inspecting the chambers. There was a sense of unease drifting on the night air. It sent a tingle down her neck and made time feel like it was frozen. But no matter how much dread filled her, she found herself happy to be facing the moment of truth at last.

  She just prayed fate decided to be kind for a change.

  ***

  “Are ye spending the night with me?” Sandra purred at Saer.

  “Did ye think ye’d be allowed privacy with yer brother here? Are ye hoping he’ll find a way to free ye?”

  She lifted the wreath of greens from her head and set it aside. With a delicate shrug of her shoulders, she trailed a finger over the swell of one breast.

  “I assure ye, privacy is the last thing I crave.” Sandra offered him an inviting look. “I have had a year of me own company and find myself bored with privacy.”

  Saer pushed away from the wall he’d been leaning on. Sandra’s eyes brightened with impending victory, but he lifted his hand and gestured someone forward.

  “Angus will be happy to keep ye company. I cannae leave men at the door, else risk ruining the illusion ye are happy to be me bride. Yer guard will be inside.”

  The man who moved into the light cast by the candles was a hard creature. Sandra recoiled from his bulk. He wore a half sheepskin on his back like a savage, and two scars ran down his right cheek.

  “She’ll do her best to lure ye close, but I suggest ye keep yer cock away from her, else ye might find yerself dead.”

  Angus grinned. “She’d nae be the first to try their hand at ending me days. But unlike the Sutherlands, I never leave one alive who has done me a wrong.”

  Sandra sat back down with a pout on her lips.

  What sent a chill down his back was the look of determination in her eyes. The woman was evil, no matter how fair her features and form. Angus pulled a dagger from one of his sheaths and fingered the blade suggestively.

  Sandra turned to contemplate her reflection. “Send a maid up with some wine, since ye’ve made it clear I shall have no other entertainment.”

  “Ye are nae here to be pampered,” Saer replied.

  She shot him a hard look. “I doubt Angus is accomplished in helping ladies disrobe. How much did this gown cost ye? It would be a shame if it was ruined when I tried to take it off. Considering the state of yer coffers, it would be very sad.”

  “I’ll send a maid.”

  Saer turned and left, reaching down to pat the side of his boot to make sure his own dagger was in place.

  It was going to be a bloody night; he was sure of it. Now that Gahan had played his hand, Bari and Achaius had only until dawn to try and prevent Sandra’s wedding.

  ***

  Achaius stumbled into the chamber, his steps scuffing the floor in his haste. He spotted her near one of the windows and pointed his cane at her. “The maid has claimed ye have nae bled since we returned from Dunrobin. Ye’re useless to me without a child.”

  Rage edged his words, but Moira wasn’t afraid of him. She lifted her chin and stared straight at him. Knowing Gahan was near made her bold, or maybe just desperate. All she knew for sure was she couldn’t continue the charade that was her marriage.

  “How could I be with child when ye have never lain with me?” Moira said angrily, her patience exhausted.

  “Because Gahan Sutherland is yer lover,” he shot back, jabbing his cane in her direction. “Do nae think I do nae know he’s been sniffing after ye from the moment he laid eyes upon ye. Why do ye think I made the trip to Dunrobin? I wanted to make sure he had the chance to toss yer skirts.”

  He was coming closer, working his way across the floor with his tirade. “Ye’re as calculating as Bari,” she accused. The wall behind her bothered her immensely. She edged away from him, making sure to keep out of his reach.

  “It’s me position in life to make sure I leave me clan better off than it was when I became laird! Nae that I would expect any woman to understand the way of the world.” He sniffed. “Yer value is between yer thighs and in yer belly. Now did ye fuck him or nae? Ye’d better nae be a useless virgin still, because the only thing I need you for is a Fraser-born heir.”

  Moira gaped at Achaius. Could she be pregnant with Gahan’s child? Now that she thought about it, her monthly courses had stopped, but she’d been so preoccupied with trying to put all thoughts of Gahan out of her mind by putting Matheson Tower to rights that she hadn’t noticed till now. Moira unconsciously put a protective h
and to her belly. Achaius’s eyes widened.

  “That’s all the proof I need. Now I just have to wait to claim the brat as our son, and I won’t have need of ye anymore.” Achaius cackled and then started coughing, the fit causing him to lean on his cane.

  Fear knotted in her belly. She didn’t know what to do, only that she had to find Gahan. Moira bolted to the door, throwing it open and almost barreling into the Matheson retainers who turned to stare at her. They were barring her path.

  “Me husband has instructed me to go to the kitchen to fetch something to ease his cough,” she said, trying to appear as calm as possible. She stepped forward, making the men choose to either let her collide with them or move out of her way. They moved aside, and she hurried down the steps before Achaius recovered.

  Her freedom was going to be short. She made it to the bottom floor of the keep and looked around. Everything was cast in shadow. The wind was howling outside, making the candle flames dance and blowing some of them out.

  It was the sort of time when evil spirits rose up to do their work.

  She shook her head, forcing herself not to get caught up in superstition. The only evil at work was that of greedy men.

  And women like Sandra.

  Heavy steps came from the stairs, and she picked up her skirts to run. She didn’t know where Gahan was, but she couldn’t stay where the Matheson retainers might find her. The hall would be full of people, and they would likely return her to her husband, so she turned and ducked into the narrow passageway that served as a link between the hall and the kitchens.

  The main kitchens were outside to protect the keep from fire. The night air was bracing as she made her way along the outside of the building. She didn’t dare go inside the kitchen either, for the boys who served the keep would be sleeping there. In a castle full of people, she was very much alone. Finding those she might trust was almost impossible.

  But she had to or lose everything.

  ***

  “Get after her!”

  Achaius didn’t much care for the bewildered look his men sent him. He raised his cane and brandished it at them.