The Pirate Laird's Hostage (The Highland Warlord Series Book 3)

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The Pirate Laird's Hostage (The Highland Warlord Series Book 3) Page 7

by Tessa Murran


  ‘Against the Cranstouns?’

  ‘Against anyone who crossed him. I earned the respect of the clan, and I found I had a talent for leading men and for outsmarting my enemies. The Cranstouns grew to fear me and, because of that, so did Fearchar. He began to see me as a rival for his place as Laird, and I think he would have found a way to end me if I had not had the Devil’s luck.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘A sweating sickness took hold of Fitheach and took Fearchar’s wife and eldest son along with many good fighting men whom he relied on. Then the tide turned in my favour. With so many gone and the Cranstouns poised to exploit our weakness, my uncle needed me. Out of nowhere, I was raised to the level of a treasured son, or so he pretended.’

  ‘But Drostan said you wanted Fearchar’s wife, and that is why you killed him.’

  ‘Not his first wife, for she was withered and in her worst years, and not particularly comely in her best either, I shouldn’t think. No, Morna, Fearchar wed another within a month of his wife’s passing. His first wife was scarce stiff in her shroud before he was bedding his second - Edana.’

  ‘And then you bedded her. Why? Was it to get revenge on your uncle?’

  ‘No, because she was beautiful and she wanted me as much as I wanted her. I didn’t seduce her if that is what you are thinking, because I didn’t need to.’

  Morna’s face burned as a hot bite of jealous struck her heart, foolish, unwanted and shameful.

  ‘So you killed him to have her.’

  ‘No.’ He laughed bitterly. ‘I am not a good man by any means, Morna, but I am not as black a fiend as that mewling milksop Drostan would paint me. I broke it off with Edana because she wanted me to kill Fearchar for her. She despised him, you see. Out of spite, she told Fearchar that I raped her and so he challenged me to fight, to the death, on account of her honour, which is ironic seeing as she had none. I killed my uncle before he could kill me, because, more than anything, I wanted to live, that is all there is to it. That fight cost me two fingers, but it was worth it.’

  Morna looked at his hand, and he quickly put it down to his hip. She felt her heart clench a little in pity. ‘I am sorry for your hand, William.’

  ‘Don’t be. My other hand still works perfectly well, for all sorts of things.’ His smile was seductive and warm, and Morna’s face reddened at this implication. He had a way of talking that was of the bedchamber, of warm flesh on flesh, of intimate couplings in the dark of the night and he had just been speaking of his mistress.

  The air between them changed, and Morna shifted uncomfortably. Suddenly her fine blue dress was too tight and her breath too shallow. This intimacy, this sharing of secrets, raw and vivid, it was as if a curtain had been drawn back. Suddenly Morna felt open and vulnerable to Will, a man who made her heart race to look at him, a man who was no tame admirer to sigh after her. No, this man was a sea wolf with a sharp bite. She tried to recover her senses.

  ‘Do you still love this Edana?’

  ‘Of course not. She forced me to kill my own blood, so I banished her, and that is the end of it. You can judge me a fiend if you like. I won’t grovel for your good opinion, Morna. Think of me what you will, but I suspicion part of you likes to think badly of me. It makes me more exciting, does it not?’

  ‘I do not know what to think of you, William.’

  ‘God’s teeth, it is Will, how many times, woman.’

  ‘I want to believe you, Will, I want to trust you but I…’

  ‘Trust this,’ he said, grabbing her face in his big hands and pressing his mouth to hers. Their lips met in a heart-stopping kiss, making Morna’s knees melt and her loins flame.

  ‘No, stop it. Get off of me,’ she gasped, pushing him back. ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I’ve wanted to do that since the first moment I laid eyes on you. Hell’s teeth, I want to do it again.’

  Her first instinct was to push him away as his full lips slid over her own again, but Morna could only sink into the delicious thrill of it. Will’s kiss was hard, demanding, and when she did not resist, his fingers slid up into her hair, down her back, arms at her waist, pulling her in close. His manhood, hard and eager, pressed against her stomach. The sensible part of her screamed ‘stop this’, but the wicked core of her heart made Morna kiss him back, hard, and meet his questing tongue with her own.

  ‘You taste even sweeter than I imagined,’ Will growled against her mouth between kisses, his body all muscle and strength, and big, so big pressed close to hers. He took her lower lip in his teeth and tugged and sucked at it with shocking intimacy. Heat flooded Morna’s loins, her face, her belly. She grabbed onto his hair and dug her nails in, and he became more aroused. They staggered slightly and came up against the side of a table.

  Morna had let Owen kiss her, many times, and she had welcomed it, but his kiss had been careful, controlled, and she had played at ardour in return instead of really feeling it. But this villain’s mouth on her made her feel as if she had no will of her own. There was only surrender to some terrible animal need. Her face burned with shame, for if he threw her down on that table and took her there, she felt she might not be able to resist. A day ago, she had been staring death in the face, but now, she had never felt so alive.

  She wanted William Bain in a feral kind of way, in a way she could never voice aloud. It was as if the Devil had her in his grip and was leading her away from the light, and into darkness, but what a delicious darkness it was.

  Will’s hands started to slide over her body, lifting her dress, his hand, warm and rough as it slid up her leg.

  Morna leapt back from him like a scalded cat. For a moment she thought he was going to make a grab for her, but he did not, instead, Will held her eyes with his, chest heaving up and down and frustration warring with laughter on his face.

  She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. ‘You may never do that to me again.’

  ‘You seemed to like it,’ he smiled, ‘and I certainly did.’

  ‘Enjoy your stolen kiss, for it is the last you will get from me.’

  ‘I didn’t feel stolen, and I ask leave of no man when I take what I want.’

  ‘Or woman,’ said Morna defiantly.

  ‘Depends on the woman,’ he replied, shrugging his shoulders as shame rushed through her.

  Morna turned and walked away from him as quickly as she could.

  Will called after her. ‘Don’t you dare walk away from me after a kiss like that, Morna Buchanan.’ There was laughter in his voice.

  ‘Don’t you dare lock me up again,’ she shouted back over her shoulder.

  ‘I’ll do with you as I see fit, woman.’

  Morna ignored him and kept on going, every nerve in her body screaming at her to run, thinking any moment she would hear his footsteps in pursuit, his hands grabbing her, his mouth on hers again.

  Once she was out of the hall, she ran as fast as she could back to her bedchamber and bolted the door. It took an age for her breathing to slow. She must be cleverer than this. She had played with men’s admiration before, but here, in this friendless place, it was dangerous. She was a long way from home with no protection, save for Will.

  Now Morna was not entirely sure if she was safe around him, and she would wager all that her virtue was not.

  Chapter Eight

  Will surveyed the crowded hall with impatience. Everyone was here for this feast save the one person he wanted to see. He downed cup after cup of ale, wrestling with his frustration. It had been five days since he had kissed Morna Buchanan and she had been avoiding him. Banging on her chamber door got no response, so he had not been able to put right his mistake. She steadfastly refused to talk to him save to demand an answer, through the oak, as to when her brothers would receive word and send for her. Will had been left with that meagre response or her just shouting at him to go away.

  Were it anyone else he would have broken the door down with an axe to get his own way, but something about this fierce, proud gir
l had made him stay his hand. He was, after all, completely and utterly in the wrong. Kissing her had been a delicious impulse to which he had succumbed all too easily, and, while he did not regret his stolen pleasure, he did regret giving her cause for offence or, worse, a reason to fear him.

  To make matters worse, he had been forced to go to sea when an alarming report had reached him that ships had been sighted along the northern coves. The Bains had feared that it was the Cranstouns, out to get revenge for the loss of their ship and men. Nought had come of his voyage, and he had been restless the whole time, keen to get back to his bonnie guest, knowing full well that Drostan would have been insinuating himself into Morna’s good graces in his absence.

  Will shot an evil look at his cousin. Of course, she would like him, idiot that he was, so much closer in age to Morna and bleating his woes for her to pity. The lad was despondent tonight, sulking into his ale but then he looked across the hall and beamed. Morna had entered, and a hushed silence followed her progress to the table where Will sat waiting, clenching his ale cup to the point of shattering it. His clansmen all turned curious eyes to him to gauge his reaction and, to his left, Waldrick’s stare was unnerving.

  Will feigned nonchalance as he leapt up and drew out a chair for his guest. He noticed that Morna gave Drostan a beaming smile and it was returned tenfold by the insolent wretch. She had absolutely none for him, of course, which irked him greatly.

  ‘So kind of you to join us, Lady Buchanan,’ he said to Morna with mock chivalry.

  ‘I was forced to come, for Braya told me she would be whipped if she did not bring me to sup with you,’ she said.

  ‘Braya exaggerates, Morna. The woman has no fear of me. She may be withered, but she has the strength of an ox. Why, I swear the crone could best me in a wrestling match if she wanted to or strangle me in my sleep if I raised her ire.’

  Will poured Morna some ale, and she grabbed it and gulped it down in one go, slamming the cup back onto the table. ‘So, Laird Bain, tell me why I am summoned to this feast. So that you can parade me in front of your clansmen and play the honourable rescuer, or do you seek another opportunity to damage my honour?’

  ‘The way you returned my kiss makes me think you have no more honour than I do, and that is no bad thing.’

  Morna’s face reddened, and she pursed her lips. ‘We shall neither speak of it, nor do it, again.’ She had not looked him in the eye once. ‘Why this feast?’ she snapped.

  ‘T’is to celebrate our taking the Cranstoun’s ship and in honour of you, my treasured guest.’

  ‘I have been told I am still confined to the east wing of the castle and cannot roam free. Do you treat all your guests the way you treat me?’

  ‘No, I only kiss the really pretty ones.’ Will noticed the rapid rise and fall of Morna’s chest as her eye met his. Was it in fear or indignation? If the former, he regretted it, as he had no intention of distressing her. Her anger he quite enjoyed as it was unusual to have a woman stand up to him, he was amused and excited by the novelty of it.

  She turned to him and smiled sweetly. ‘Let us get on with the pretence of civility, shall we,’ she said, holding out her cup to be filled. ‘Have you no more stolen wine for me?’ she asked as Drostan sidled up to the table.

  Will snapped his fingers for wine to be brought and heard Drostan murmur, ‘So good to see you about, Morna, as you have been absent these last few days.’

  ‘My jailor did not wish me to roam free about Fitheach. He fears I will make mischief you see,’ she replied with heavy sarcasm.

  Drostan eyed him warily and was about to speak, but Will interrupted him. He stared straight at Morna.

  ‘Her captor would have her safe and not scampering through lands about which she knows nothing, lands beset by enemies bent of vengeance, the cruelty of which she is already painfully acquainted with.’

  ‘My captor thinks me a simpleton too weak to fend for herself,’ said Morna, to a confused Drostan. ‘In that, he is quite mistaken. Were any villain to lay a hand on me in future I would be minded to lop it off.’ Morna turned and glared at him.

  He can’t have been very good at hiding his humiliation and dismay for the insensitivity of her remark suddenly hit her. Her face reddened as she glanced down at his hand and quickly away again.

  ‘Be off and eat your supper now, Drostan, before these wolves devour it all,’ he said to his cousin with iron in his voice.

  ‘I sought only to check on my Lady Morna’s welfare,’ replied the young man.

  ‘Well, you have done that now, so be off, Drostan,’ he snarled.

  Though the hall was clamorous, between them, a terrible silence fell. Morna fidgeted with her knife and bit her lip. Suddenly she surprised the hell out of him.

  ‘Forgive my words, Will, they were not well said, given your injury. I meant no insult.’

  ‘None taken, Morna. I suppose I deserved a tongue lashing for taking liberties. I am afraid I indulge my appetites too often, not all of them honourable. Can you forgive me and call it even. I wish us to be friends again.’

  ‘Friends?’ she asked, raising a quizzical brow.

  He laughed. ‘Very good friends indeed.’

  ‘If that is so, why do you still confine me to the east wing? I tried to go beyond it today, and one of your guards stopped me,’ she said.

  ‘Tis dangerous to roam about and the fewer people know you are here and who you are, the better, given your abduction.’

  ‘But everyone in this hall knows who I am.’

  ‘And everyone in this hall is loyal to the core - to this clan and to me. I will not have it otherwise.’

  ‘The sooner I return to Beharra, the better then. Did the seas calm enough to get me across to the mainland?’

  ‘It is spring, a wild time in these waters and storms have blown in giving us no chance to get a vessel across safely. Besides, there’ll be no crossing for you. I will send word for your brothers to come and fetch you. It is safer that way.’

  ‘But that could take weeks, and I want to go home.’

  ‘So, you cannot bear my company enough to spend a few weeks here, Morna?’

  ‘T’is not that. I am fearful after what happened and terribly homesick, that is all,’ she said in a small voice which Will was absolutely certain was a pretence at womanly vulnerability. He wasn’t fooled for a moment. ‘Put me on a ship, William, as soon as can be, and I can get a horse on the mainland and make my own way. You will be well rewarded, I swear.’ She sniffed and a single tear rolled down her cheek. What an effort it was for her to produce even one.

  ‘The answer is no, and I’ll have no discussion on it.’

  ‘I will not be locked up here at a whim of yours,’ her voice was harder now she was defied.

  ‘You will stay put, for your own good, and Morna, until you learn to steer a ship in rough seas, you have no choice in the matter.’ He laughed. ‘It must be hard for someone like you to hear the word ‘no’.’

  ‘What do you mean, someone like me?’

  ‘I suspect you have been much indulged in your soft life, Morna, by your brothers, by any man who swoons at your bonnie face.’

  ‘Oh, aye, men have been a boon to me. For instance, my father betrothed me at fifteen to a weasel of a man who turned out to be in league with the Gowans and so died a traitor. My brothers constantly go off to war, and God knows, I have seen what happens on a battlefield. They face a brutal death, and I indulge myself most enjoyably during their absence, worrying for their safety, having it tear at me. When they return, they foist suitor after suitor on me, none of whom are the least bit appealing. I am the future mother of a laird, Cormac is fond of telling me, and not getting any younger. Marry, he says, before your bloom fades as if that is all I am, some delicate flower to ornament some man’s hall. Then Ramsay, a man I trusted since I was a young girl, sells me to my worst enemy. And though I long for home, when I get there, it will be more of the same, another cage, another suitor, another year watching
my life turn to nothing. See how I have been indulged, Will.’

  She stood up and rushed from the hall to the stares of his clansmen. Will hesitated, and then slammed his cup of ale down with a splash and a curse and followed her.

  He caught up with her just as she was rushing inside her bedchamber, trying to slam the door. Will blocked it with his foot and pushed her aside to enter.

  ‘I did not give you leave to depart my hall. I am Laird here, and you will show some respect.’

  ‘I have none to show.’

  ‘Calm down, Morna, or you will end up in a crying fit.’

  ‘I never cry, and if all you have are more orders, you may leave.’

  Her face was wild with anger, pink-cheeked, eyes glaring, mouth open in dismay.

  ‘Lie with me,’ he said in a rush. ‘Come to my bed and work off some of that rage underneath me. Your hardness stirs my blood, Morna, I won’t deny it. Perhaps I have finally met my match. When I look at you, it puts such a fire in my belly. I wanted you all those years ago, when we first met, and I want you still.’

  She shook her head and laughed as if he had said something amusing. ‘No!’ she exclaimed, followed by, ‘Never, not if you were the last man on God’s earth.’

  ‘Take your time and think on it.’

  ‘You are a fool, a mad fool to ever suppose I would do that with you. And if you try to force me, then I shall murder you in your sleep.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it, Morna, though I have no need of forcing here, do I? Tis just a matter of time before you give in to your baser instincts, for you long for me I am sure of it. There was a good deal of wanting behind that kiss of yours.’

  ‘You arrogant, cockerel of a man, strutting around this castle as if you own every woman in it. Well, you do not own me, and you never shall so just go away and leave me alone.’

  Will looked down at the ground, trying to dampen his frustration. God, he wanted her. It seemed like an age since he had been inside a lass, perhaps that was why he was acting like a fool, showing his weakness.

 

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