by Wine, Mary
“Toad,” Cora muttered as she started to undress.
Faolan wasn’t a toad. Far from it.
Wolf.
He was dark and effective. His small band of McKay Retainers was his pack, and he would do what he thought best for them.
And for the moment, she was in his den.
*
McKay Castle…
Noreen Grant had been raised to be mistress of a large household. Part of her duty was to see to the letters, both opening and responding to them. It was easy to become isolated in the Highlands. One reason for taking a noble bride was that, as a wife, she would continue to maintain friendly bonds with other noble daughters and ladies.
“Mistress.”
Noreen looked up from her worktable to see a McKay Retainer in the doorway to the chamber, which served as her study. He was an experienced man. One of her husband’s captains, declared by the single feather sticking up on the side of his cap.
“Yes?” she inquired.
“Urgent missive.” The captain inclined his head as he entered her chamber. Her personal attendant was nearby, yet it still wasn’t quite proper for the captain to be there.
Laird McKay was a possessive man. A jealous man. And Noreen wasn’t going to see her authority undermined by something so petty. It was, after all, far more to her benefit to keep the laird of the McKays smitten with her.
The captain laid a letter down on the edge of the table and retreated. Clearly, he knew her husband’s reputation for being jealous, too. Yet, how could anyone not know it? Castles had many, many dark corners where gossip flowed as freely as rivers did in spring.
Noreen broke the wax seal and read the contents. She sat for a long moment, considering the words on the parchment.
So, Cora Mackenzie was missing.
It seemed the rumors of the way the only sister of the Mackenzie laird was indulged were true. Laird McKay would have had his sisters flogged if they ever set one foot outside the McKay fortress without escort and permission. To some, such a way of thinking might seem harsh, but Noreen understood just how grievous a fate might befall a female who found herself alone in the Highlands.
The weather was the least of anyone’s concern.
A high-born girl could be wed without contracts. While some men might see it as a way into a powerful clan, Noreen knew the truth of what would happen. The girl could be cut off. Her new groom would most likely abandon her the moment he accepted that she wouldn’t bring him the connections or dowry he’d craved. If she were lucky, she’d only be ruined. If Fate was unkind, though, she’d find herself begging her kin to take her back with a bastard in her belly.
Buchanan Mackenzie was a fool. Both for allowing his sister such freedom and for sending out letters, making it known that she was missing. The letter exposed his weakness.
Of course, Noreen might decide to do nothing with the information.
But life was hard, and it was important to make the best of every opportunity. She hadn’t managed to wed the laird of the powerful McKay clan by being nice. Malcolm McKay hadn’t been the eldest son of the last laird. Together, they’d risen up. Certainly, there were those who said their positions were gained by walking over their opposition, but there was no point in taking a position that no one else coveted.
To be winners, there had to be losers.
And there was always blood on the victor’s hands.
Chapter Four
“Well, now, ye’re a bit of a surprise.”
Cora turned around from where she’d been repositioning the contents of the ovens. In the doorway of the kitchen, a woman was grinning at her.
“I am Brynna,” the girl introduced herself. She swept the kitchen with her eyes, and the corners of her lips rose. “Well, this is indeed a fine surprise. Rumor had it this place was an inch deep in filth at best.”
“It was,” Cora informed her. “But I do nae fancy food poisoning, so I cleaned it. I am Cora Mackenzie.”
Brynna was working to open a short cape that had a hood. She looked up as Cora shared her name. “A long way from home, aren’t ye?”
“Aye.” Cora agreed. “Yet grateful to have found shelter from the storm which carried me here.”
“It was fierce,” Brynna continued. “Kept most of the women who were ordered to come with me back at the main castle. Not that they put forth too much effort, mind ye. As soon as the rain turned to snow, they were turning back.”
“Yet, ye made it,” Faolan spoke from the door, which opened into the yard.
Brynna looked toward him and lowered herself briefly. “I prefer the chill of winter to the icy treatment Orla has been giving me.”
Brynna was similar in age to Cora and had a pile of blonde hair secured to her head beneath the hood. She pulled the hood off and gave it a good shake. But she wore a small linen cap, proving she’d been subject to the codes of modesty imposed in most households.
“I’ve a fine rabbit-pelt lined hood and leggings,” Brynna declared. “So, if the Head-of-House at McKay Castle wants to banish me here, thinking it will keep her son from wedding me in the spring, so be it. I will no’ hide in the back passageways like the other maids who have earned their banishment through far more sinful conduct.”
“Ye will be going back,” Faolan said. “Eat and return to the yard. With a bit of luck, we’ll make it there before the light is gone.”
“What are ye talking about?” Brynna questioned. “I’ve been sent here for the winter, and Orla has made it clear I am no’ welcome back at the castle.”
“Ye will serve as a chaperone. I need to return Mistress Cora to the castle, and it is nae proper for her to be on the road alone with me and me men.”
He looked at Cora as he finished speaking. Brynna’s mouth slacked open, but Cora was busy clenching her teeth to avoid saying anything she’d regret.
She’d not beg him to stay.
Are ye mad to even think such a thing?
She must be. Her feelings were a jumbled mess as she turned and scooped up a ladleful of stew for Brynna. Cora dumped it into a wooden bowl before she turned around to deliver it.
But Brynna was eyeing her. The girl might have been the same age as Cora, but her gaze wasn’t young. No, her blue eyes held a generous amount of experience and frank understanding.
Brynna laughed softly. She sat down and grabbed a spoon. “Well, now. Today is far more interesting than I might ever have imagined.”
Whatever else she might have said was cut off as she began to eat.
Cora filled another bowl for herself. The pot of stew would be her last offering to the men of the remote tower. She wanted to linger over eating it, draw out her final moments here.
Why?
She didn’t have a good answer.
“According to the women back home, Chief McKay is a cold man,” Brynna remarked as Cora turned to face her. Brynna pointed her spoon at Cora. “It would seem ye have undermined his icy demeanor.”
“I’ve done no such thing,” Cora defended herself.
Brynna smiled. “He’s nearly tripping over his own feet in a rush to get ye away from here.” She scraped the bowl again. “There is only one reason a man like him would be in such a state.”
Cora had just filled her mouth. She swallowed too fast and ended up feeling like her throat was stretched. “Nonsense.”
But Gainor appeared in the doorway. “Chief says to hurry.”
The McKay Retainer had a resigned look on his face. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he savored the scent of the kitchen. When he let his breath out, it was a long, low sound of lament.
Cora struggled to keep her face from betraying her feelings as she dressed for travel. Her temper came to the rescue, flickering to life as she walked toward the doorway. Faolan was there, working to saddle a mare.
It was time to go.
Logically it was a sound idea.
So why did she feel so torn? Like leaving the tower was nearly impossible to endure?
&nbs
p; Gainor and the other McKay Retainers were clustered around the yard. They appeared so forlorn, even the stern look Faolan sent them wasn’t enough to make them disperse.
Their chief’s determination didn’t make much of a difference, though. They watched as Cora and Brynna came down the last few steps and mounted. They tugged on their caps before Faolan, and two other Retainers led them out of the yard. They set a brisk pace. But the mare took to it, clearly hoping to reach a warm stable before nightfall.
Cora looked back at the tower. It was stark and remote. But so very essential. No one would be able to pull boats up onto the beach below without being seen. Riders might be sent toward the main McKay stronghold while the tower would keep the men manning it safe until the McKay Retainers might return to defend their ground. In the spring, when ships sailed toward the north countries and others came down toward England, such a defense was necessary.
A lonely duty.
It had truly been her privilege to share it.
She straightened up in the saddle, lifting her face up so the wind dried the tears flooding her eyes. Faolan hadn’t asked for her to stay.
Do ye want him to ask ye?
She pondered it long and hard along the ride toward the stronghold. Why shouldn’t she think it over? She had never felt so jumbled. The sheer intensity of her emotions fascinated her. It was as though she’d been living inside an egg and just emerged in the last couple of days to discover that there was an entire world beyond what she knew. Desires and needs were like seeds inside her that wanted to grow stronger until she opened her wings and fledged like an eaglet.
Spreading her wings to fly.
At last, she realized that the outing to see Rolfe had, in fact, had a profound effect upon her. Perhaps not in the way her brother might have hoped for. There was no spark of attraction between her and the Munro laird. What Cora had discovered was an end to her patience. She was contracted to Cormac Grant? Well, since the man had not sent her even a single letter, she would demand an end to the matter. She’d make it known she was accepting suit and see who came to meet her. Or at least sent letters of introduction so she might be matched with someone she’d be content with.
Her choice was firmly made. She felt lighter, and yet, she couldn’t stop herself from staring at Faolan’s back. The odd fascination she had for him was still there. In spite of the sting from her pride over the haste in which he was taking her down to the McKay stronghold.
To be rid of ye…
Oh, aye. He’d made no excuses.
So why couldn’t she dismiss him as easily in return?
*
Even in the dark, the McKay stronghold was formidable.
The clouds cleared away enough for moonlight to show Cora no less than five towers. There was a huge curtain wall running between them. She could see the flicker of lanterns along the top of the wall. The gate was open, allowing Faolan to ride through.
The inner courtyard was brighter thanks to several fires burning. A large cart of peat cakes was waiting to keep those fires going through the night. The scent of manure from those cakes wasn’t pleasing, but the light was welcome indeed.
“The laird did no’ send for ye, Chief.”
Faolan had dismounted before the McKay Retainer spoke.
“Aye,” Faolan replied as he turned to help Cora off her mare. “I’ve a matter which required me to ride down.”
“Ye should have sent a massive first.”
“With the snow beginning so early, I did nae care to risk getting stuck,” Faolan continued.
Cora felt a tingle touch her nape. There was clearly tension between the Retainer and Faolan.
Had Faolan been banished to the remote tower for some crime?
She really should have pondered that question before. Now though, she discovered herself annoyed by the tone the Retainer was using. Faolan had rough edges, but he had seen to her care.
Faolan held onto her upper arm. He guided her up the steps and into the largest of the towers.
“Here now.” The Retainer chased after them. “Ye will be waiting on the laird’s permission before ye come into the hall.”
Faolan made a sound under his breath before he was turning and heading toward a small passageway. It led to a long room built into the base of the curtain wall. There were some chairs and a few tables inside it but most importantly, there was only the one opening which allowed any persons in or out of it. If the heavy door was closed, they’d be sealed tight inside it. Such a place was common in strongholds, for it served as a good receiving room where whoever arrived might be kept until their motivations for entering the castle might be examined.
“Stay here, Chief McKay,” the Retainer warned ominously.
He disappeared a moment later.
“And I thought the weather was icy up at yer tower,” Cora remarked. “It seems far more frigid here if ye ask me.”
“Do nae get involved, lass.”
Faolan’s tone was brittle. He’d stopped a few paces from her, placing himself between her and the doorway. His frame was stiff, and he had his jaw set as he waited.
“Are ye condemned to that tower for some reason?” Cora asked in spite of the warning.
He turned his head so he was looking at her. “Isn’t it a bit late to be asking me that question, lass?”
“Do nae sound so condescending,” Cora admonished him. “What would it have served to think ill of ye when I was tossed at yer feet shivering? Should I have been so naïve as to not see ye pulled me back from the grip of death?”
He walked closer. Once again, she noticed how silent his steps were. In the dark, she’d never hear him, never know he was closing the distance between them until he was too close for her to escape.
Cora shook her head. She was being ridiculous.
But there was a glint in his eyes when he took that last step, and their gazes met. “You would have done better to remain in the Mackenzie stronghold and wait for yer brother to arrange the details of yer marriage.”
Cora felt her temper warming. “So, I’d arrive to me new home a weakling who did nae have a clue as to how to stand up for meself?”
Faolan tilted his head slightly. “A man should take care of a bride.”
Cora snorted. “A man strong enough to maintain his hold on a Highland clan lairdship would no’ need some sniveling kitten for a wife. Why do so many men make that error? Ye are always praising the timid, when such a girl will never be able to stand on her own when ye are seeing to yer responsibilities. All that will get ye is a whimpering wife who will nag ye the moment ye have a spare moment for her. I am proud to no’ be like that.”
“I suppose ye have a fine point at that, lass.”
Faolan grinned. She watched the corners of his mouth twitch. Cora drank in the sight. There was something about the moment that made her tingle. From head to toe, she felt drawn in closer to him. Her heart was racing once more, and she was fingering the fabric of her skirt because she just couldn’t seem to stay still.
But there was a step behind them. A heavy footfall as someone came toward the doorway. Cora turned around, but Faolan stepped in front of her. He extended his arm, pushing her back a pace as he took up a position half in front of her.
He was shielding her.
Cora didn’t have time to ponder the reason. A man arrived in the doorway. There were three feathers sticking upright on the side of his knitted cap, declaring him the Laird of the McKay.
Faolan reached up and tugged on the corner of his own cap.
“Ye know full well I do nae grant ye liberty to come to this stronghold whenever ye please,” Laird McKay began. He was half out of breath from how quickly he’d come. He shook his head, his lips pressed together in anger. “I’ve half a mind to send ye on yer way, dark night be damned.”
Laird McKay had come into the room, several Retainers flanking him.
“Chief McKay was very kind to escort me here.” Cora stepped around Faolan’s extended arm. “I know me b
rother will be grateful for the assistance of the McKay.”
Cora spoke with all the smoothness her tutors had taught her. Her back was straight, and her chin level. On her face was an expression which was both poised and smooth, her true feelings hidden completely beneath an expression of serenity.
She detested being so fake, and yet, it appeared there were times which called on her to be so.
Laird McKay shifted his attention to her. He did it with a jerk of his head, appearing to have not even noticed her in the room at all.
Faolan grabbed a handful of the back of her skirts to keep her from moving closer to Laird McKay.
The tension between the two men was clear enough.
“Cora. Cora Mackenzie.” A woman glided into the room. There was a swish from her skirts as she made it through the doorway. Her cheeks were flushed, but she fluttered her eyelashes as though she hadn’t just been rushing.
“Yer brother will be so pleased to hear ye are well.”
Noreen Grant was wearing a dress far too fine for the Highland weather. The silk was crisp and held out from her body by a farthingale. Her hair was dressed with ribbons and perfectly arranged on her head. Cora had never met Noreen, but she certainly knew who the McKay laird’s wife was.
“I received a letter just this morning about how ye had gone missing,” Noreen continued as she came forward and grasped Cora’s hand to pull her away from Faolan. “My heart is so much lighter now that I see ye are well. However did ye come to be at the McKay towers?”
“A violent storm took my party by surprise. My horse was swept right out from under me, and we both went away with the flood. The fact that I am well is solely due to Chief McKay’s assistance,” Cora said firmly. Her temper was steaming. The way the couple seemed intent on throwing Faolan into the night, rubbing her raw.
Noreen’s eyes narrowed. But only for a moment before she was fluttering her eyelashes once again. “Faolan is a credit to the McKays for certain. Come with me, dear, and we shall get ye settled.”
Noreen had taken her hand, but Faolan still had a grip on the back of Cora’s skirt. For a moment, she was caught between them. But Faolan released her, allowing Noreen to tug her away.