“Kieran,” Malcolm called out, getting to his feet and meeting him halfway. “Tis good to see ye are well.” The look of genuine concern on his eldest brother’s face made Kieran relax enough to allow the tight hug that followed.
“I was sure something terrible had happened to ye.” Once again, his brother took stock, his gaze moving over him. “Are ye hurt?”
“I am well,” he mumbled. “Got robbed. Lost my bow and quiver.”
“Were ye harmed?” Tristan had walked up and studied his face. “Got banged up a bit, aye?”
He was aware of purpling around his left eye, his split lip and bruised jaw, but he hadn’t taken the time to think about it before then. Once again, he was enveloped into a tight hug.
“Ye cannot hope to find Ethan alone. We must put together a party.” Malcolm guided him away from the others to stand near the hearth. Two hounds that slept, warmed by the fire, lifted their heads. One wagged his tail lazily before settling back to continue its nap.
Kieran scowled at the dog. “These hounds are not good at guarding.”
“True.” His brother looked down at the dogs. “They earn their keep in other ways.”
Unless tripping people was a job, Kieran couldn’t think of anything the dogs did. But like his brothers, he would never mistreat the animals that had belonged to their father.
“A party will not help us in finding the bastard. I think he traveled north in an effort to find me,” Kieran said. “But too much time has passed. Scouts have to be sent to investigate.”
“I have sent men out. Hopefully, one will bring news soon. Tis best for ye to remain here until then.”
Kieran nodded, aware it would be foolish to leave without hearing what news the scouts would bring. “How long?”
“Any day now. They’ve been gone for five days at least.”
He would wait. Looking about the room, he hated being there. Whenever he was home, it was a stark reminder of his father’s absence. “How do ye do it?”
Malcolm met his gaze with understanding. “Tis the best way to honor him. To take care of his people.” Letting out a long breath, Malcolm placed a hand on Kieran’s shoulder. “Ye do realize killing Ethan McLeod will not ease the burden ye carry.”
“It will help.” Kieran turned to a servant, who took two steps backward. He wanted to roll his eyes.
Malcolm chuckled. “Perhaps if ye didn’t scowl so much, they would be more at ease.”
“Is Moira in the kitchen?” he asked the wide-eyed maid who nodded. Annoyed, he stalked to the kitchen. Moira would feed him and then he would spend time at sword practice.
“Sweet boy, what happened to ye?” The cook rushed to him, tugging him to a chair. She turned to a young woman who looked about to swoon. “Bring a pot of hot water and some cloths.” Moira studied his face. “Yer lip is bleeding.”
“Aye, it splits every time I talk,” he replied, glad to be in the confines of the kitchen and away from everyone. As a little boy, he’d always found the kitchen comforting, a refuge of sorts. He’d spent endless days there, often playing with Moira’s son, Ian, by the fireplace.
Moira cleaned his face and began threading a needle. He winced even before she began to stitch the cut that went from the end of his mouth, across to his cheek. A couple kicks to his face had given him quite a bruising.
A few stitches later and salve placed on his cuts, she fed him chicken stew with carrots and buttered bread. He ate his fill, almost reluctant to stand and go outside.
“I met yer betrothed. She is quite lovely.”
“Who?” He stood at the doorway.
“The girl who came back with Tristan from the wedding.”
He’d all but forgotten about the incident. “I am not getting married.”
“She’s in the garden with Lady Elspeth and Ceilidh.” Moira neared with a wide smile.
“Oh, ye don’t know the great news. Ian and Ceilidh are to marry.”
“I am glad to hear it,” Kieran said, meaning it.
He walked out to seek the guards and practice. After he practiced, he’d see Ruari about making a bow. As he walked out, Kieran peered toward the garden. Four women went about the task of weeding and such. His brothers’ wives and the girl, Ceilidh, moved about with baskets, all wearing long aprons. The fourth was familiar, too, and not at all who he expected.
What was Gisela doing there?
Chapter Fourteen
Gisela sensed him before seeing him. She looked up to see Kieran walking away. Had he seen her?
“What do ye think?” Merida, the wife of Tristan Ross, touched Gisela’s shoulder.
“About?” She’d stopped listening upon seeing Kieran. Had he seen her? If so, why didn’t he come and speak to her. Ask why she was there?
Merida let out a sigh, her gaze moving past Gisela to where Tristan had gone. “He’s here.” Her brow fell into a scowl. “I do not care for him at all.”
“Why not?” Gisela prepared to hear that he’d been a scoundrel, a man without care of how he treated women.
Just then, Elspeth neared and looked to them both. “My opinion of Kieran Ross is that he carries a heavy burden of guilt and anger. He is directing it toward the McLeods but, in reality, the person he blames the most for Laird Ross’ death is himself.”
“What ye say is true. Therefore, I do my best to avoid him. No matter that I am his brother’s wife, I do not trust Kieran in the least.” Merida huffed and turned away to continue her chores.
Elspeth, wife to the laird, a man almost as imposing as Kieran, shook her head. “What do ye plan to say to him?”
“I will ask that he take me back to my village. He no more wishes to marry me than I do him.” Gisela frowned. “Do ye think he would harm Merida?”
“Nay. I do not.” Elspeth studied her for a moment. “Nor do I believe ye do not care for him. Marriage may be just what he needs to help him settle.”
The last thing Gisela expected was that Kieran’s family would want him to marry. “Ye know as well as I do he won’t do anything he doesn’t wish to. Even once his vendetta is done, Kieran Ross will continue to carry that burden. Ye said so yerself.”
Her new friend looked crestfallen. “Tis sad, is it not?”
Gisela nodded. “Aye.”
As the sun lowered, Gisela ambled to the herb shed. She’d tied herbs in bundles and now would hang them up to dry. Only Ceilidh remained outside. Elspeth had gone to see about last meal and Merida had left with Tristan, who’d come to collect her.
Ceilidh talked nonstop about her betrothed, which lightened Gisela’s heart. When the one-armed warrior had come to the gate, the woman had practically floated to greet him. They’d exchanged a few words and he’d given her a quick kiss before Ceilidh had remembered Gisela.
“Ian, this is Gisela. Perhaps ye have met.”
The handsome warrior looked to her and nodded. “I saw ye at Munro Keep, did I not?”
“Aye,” Gisela nodded smiling.
Once he left, promising to sit with Ceilidh at last meal, the woman began talking again about their wedding plans.
“Ye are invited, of course. It will be at my village, Kildonan.”
“Thank ye, but I doubt I will be here that long.”
“Where do ye think to be?” Kieran asked, walking through the open gate. His gaze clashed with hers. By the deep scowl, he was furious.
Ceilidh darted away and into the kitchen, leaving her alone. Obviously, everyone was terrified of the man.
“Home, of course.” Gisela hitched her chin.
“Then why are ye here?”
She blew out a breath. “Because everyone is bent on marrying me off. Ye were there, do ye not remember? Once ye left, I was forced to come here.”
Eyes narrowed, he seemed to ponder over her words. “Ye could have escaped. Did ye even try?”
Despite the fact she’d not planned to marry him, the fact he was not willing to even consider it hurt. She did her best to blink back tears and ignore the
tightening in her chest. “Can ye order guards to take me home? I do not wish to remain anywhere near yer presence.”
She attempted to go around him, but he took her arm. “Where are ye going?”
“Away from ye.” Horror filled Gisela when tears trickled down her cheeks. “I am tired of having to fight for my independence. Everyone thinks they have power over me. Why can I not be left alone to do as I please, live as I wish?”
She took a shaky breath. “I do wish to marry one day, to a men who cares for me. A man of honor.”
His face turned to stone. “I see.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Please…take me…home.” Gisela hiccupped through the sentence. “I just wish to be…home.” It was as if a wave hit her, making it impossible to fight the tide. Gisela began to sob.
And the most unexpected thing happened. Kieran pulled her against him and held her as she wept into his tunic.
She didn’t move away from him because, for the first time, there was only protection and security. Not since her father had it felt that the man who held her would ensure no harm would come to her. If only he would never let go.
“I am so scared,” she finally admitted. “What will happen to me?”
Kieran’s chest rose and lowered. “I do not know. I can make arrangements to ensure ye are taken back to yer cottage. That will not stop yer mother from seeking a husband for ye.”
Afraid he’d move away, she clutched the rough fabric of his tunic. “Aye, I only fool myself to think I have any power over what happens to me.”
She released his clothing and stepped back. “Please, do so. I would like to return home.”
For a long moment, he studied her face and then abruptly turned and walked away without replying.
During last meal, Gisela sat with Ceilidh. Besides Ceilidh, Elspeth and Merida seemed to assume she’d remain there and marry Kieran. It was laughable since he’d barely looked in her direction. But she didn’t argue the fact since it would do little good.
Once arrangements were made for her to return home, everyone would be aware the wedding would not take place.
“Besides ye, Moira is the only woman here that dares go near him,” Ceilidh said, her gaze shifting to where Kieran was sitting.
He leaned toward the cook as she spoke to him and nodded. When she shook a finger at him, Gisela’s eyes widened. Whatever exchange was happening between him and the older woman, it was as if he were being chastised in some manner.
When Moira walked off, he looked in Gisela’s direction and then quickly away. Had Moira spoken to him about her? It was probably something he’d done to upset the cook that had nothing to do with her.
At the head table, Elspeth had watched the exchange and hid a smile behind her hand. She leaned over her husband and said something to Merida, who then looked to Gisela.
“Whatever is afoot, I believe it has to do with me,” Gisela whispered to Ceilidh. The woman simply nodded.
“I was about to say the same.”
The mood during the evening meal remained constrained, almost as if someone or something was expected. Several times, Gisela caught people looking to the doorway and then around the room as if trying to figure out what was going to happen.
She nudged Ceilidh. “Besides the fact the people at the high board are obviously talking about me, why does everyone keep looking to the doors?”
Ceilidh let out a long sigh. “The guards from the northern post are returning. After the union between this clan and the Munros, there isn’t much need to patrol the border.”
“I see,” Gisela said. “There seems to be much anticipation.” At the high board, the Ross brothers and their uncle, Gregor, didn’t seem as preoccupied with the return of the guards.
Just then, Kieran looked to her and met her gaze. A crease formed between his brows and he looked away.
Strange.
Once the meal was over, Gisela decided to go to her small chamber and remain there. In her opinion, it was best to say out of sight until the day she could return home. Hopefully, her mother would send Hamus to check on her cottage and ensure all was well.
Once news spread that she’d left to go marry, scavengers would descend at her home. A shiver of annoyance flowed through her and she pulled her shawl tight.
“Where are ye going?” Kieran was right behind her and the sound of his voice made her suck breath in.
“Ye scared me,” Gisela accused, turning around to face him. “I am retiring to my chamber.”
“Moira says I should walk ye to the gardens and tell ye about Dun Airgid, our home.” His tone was flat and it almost made Gisela laugh.
When a lock of hair fell forward over the side of his face, Gisela fought the urge to sweep it away. “Did ye explain to her that we were not going to be married?”
“Aye, but she insists she knows more than we do. Moira believes herself to have second sight.”
“Oh.” Gisela wasn’t sure what else to add. “If ye insist on a walk, I must fetch a heavier cover.” She motioned to the doorway of her bedchamber.
Immediately upon entering the room, the air itself seemed to change. There was a thickness to the atmosphere that made it almost impossible to breathe. The hammering of her heart echoed so loudly, she was sure Kieran heard it.
“Kieran,” Gisela began, holding on to the back of a chair to keep steady. “It is a mistake. There is no need for us to…”
He neared, his hazel gaze piercing her. “For us to walk? Talk?” How was it that he remained so calm?
The longer the silence stretched, the harder it became for her to catch her breath. That he could affect her so strongly by just standing in the same room should have been terrifying, but it didn’t scare her. Instead, his presence was comforting, almost as if he were a protective shield, keeping her safe from all the wrongs.
It occurred to Gisela that what she wished for most in that moment was to be made love to by Kieran. To belong fully to him for an entire night. Once she returned home, whether she married or not, the memory of one night with the most handsome man she’d ever known would keep her warm inside.
“Stay with me…here…tonight. Show me what it is to make love. I am tired of being dictated to. I wish to do something unreasonable, unthinkable, but something I decide to do.”
He remained still, not necessarily in an aloof manner, but more as if he were unsure of what to do first. Gisela slid her hands under his tunic, her palms flat on the warm skin of his sides. With measured movements, she caressed the soft skin, loving the slight tension of every muscle as she touched it.
When he took a sharp breath, it was evident he was enjoying what she did. Thus emboldened, Gisela took the hem of the garment and tugged up until he bent and allowed her to remove it.
His gaze never leaving hers and arms to his sides, there was a silent invitation to continue what she’d started. So she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his chest, kissing it across from one side to the other. When she looked up, his eyes were closed.
Lips curved, she pulled him down and took his mouth.
His tongue pushed past her lips and into her mouth and Gisela raked her fingers through his hair, enjoying the thick locks as they slid between them.
Mouths joined, he unlaced her bodice, impatiently pushing it down off her shoulders. Exposed to him, the first twinge of doubt struck her. But second thoughts were quickly dashed when Kieran’s mouth closed over the tip of her left breast.
Moments later, Gisela’s clothes pooled at her feet and he led her backwards to the bed, his mouth over hers, hands cupping her bottom, bodies against each other.
Kieran’s body was as beautiful as the man, perfectly sculptured, taut skin over well-defined muscles. A light sprinkling of hair across his chest accentuated the broadness.
Lifting her into his arms, Kieran laid her atop the bedding and lowered beside her. With excruciating slowness, he ran his hand down between her breasts to her stomach. Every inch of her skin came to life. Need overtook
her until she wanted to scream.
They kissed for a long time while exploring each other’s bodies. It was gratifying when he remained still as Gisela ran her hands down his back to his bottom and then explored his chest and ridges of his stomach.
She wasn’t sure if it was what people did, but just touching and kissing him was amazing.
What exactly would happen next, Gisela didn’t know. But the exploration and kissing were wonderful. If it continued forever, it would not be long enough.
Gisela’s breathing hitched when his hand slid further down her body.
“Ah!” she gasped when his hand reached between her legs, fingers exploring her sex. It was not an unpleasant feeling, quite the opposite. The sensations were new to her and she wasn’t exactly sure what to do.
As if on command, her legs parted and her hips lifted. Every single part of her body reacting to the caresses.
Soon she was writhing, so filled with need that she wanted to cry. “Kieran, please…”
He took her mouth again. The entire time, his index finger circled the secret part of her until Gisela lost all reason and cried out. It was as if the sky opened up and she flew straight up past it to the darkness beyond.
She wasn’t sure how long it took before reality began to return but, in that moment, Kieran’s fingers began the sweet torture anew, sending her reeling into an abyss of ecstasy.
As she floated, he guided her hand to his staff. It was silky, but thick and she wrapped her fingers around it, stroking the length. He guided her to pleasure him and Gisela couldn’t resist. She watched as he became undone, lost in the ministrations. He was so very beautiful with his eyes closed and his lips parted. His body became taut with anticipation until he could no longer hold back and he spilled.
Gisela grabbed his face and brought his mouth to hers. Hungry for more, she lifted up her hips urging for more.
“Ye are perfect,” Kieran whispered in her ear. “Allow yerself to release again.” Once again, he touched her in just the right way.
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