“I am Harris. My wife is the fair lady handing out biscuits to yer men. They’ll taste nothing finer. She goes by Agnes,” Harris said proudly.
“Harris.” Theo frowned. The name sounded familiar. “Ye helped with the construction of the guard stations. My men say that ye are a fast and honest worker. I appreciate ye helping to get the structures up so quickly.”
“’Twas my pleasure, Laird Mac…Laird. Welcome back. If I may be so blunt…”
“Aye. Speak yer mind.”
“Are ye here to choose a wife?”
That was blunt. Theo smiled in amusement. “’Tis not at the top of my list, but I am giving it some thought. I am here to look over the inventory for the goods ye shipped out and get to know some of the merchants as well as oversee the preparation for the planting season.”
Harris visibly flinched. “’Twas just a small inventory sir, and we only sent out enough for what we need. We are happy to share what we get in return…”
“If ye are only trading for what ye need, then there will be nothing left to share,” Theo said gently. “I require nothing from ye at this time. We are all still getting to know each other, but I will want to see how much can be planted. Merchandise is not at the top of my list right now.”
More relaxed now, the older man nodded. “Aye, sire. I will get ye the list. Also, I would like to speak to ye about my nephew.”
“Yer nephew?”
“Aye. He is a strong strapping lad, unapprenticed and unattached. He has shown interest in training with yer men.”
“And why is yer nephew not here now?”
“He asked the MacSeavers’ guards the last time they were here, and they nearly broke his arm,” Harris said darkly. “His pride wilnae allow him to ask again.”
Theo cocked his head thoughtfully and surveyed the growing crowd. There were quite a few eligible lads here that would be ripe for training if they so chose, and he needed to strengthen his numbers, especially here.
“Tomorrow, I will ask for all the lads who wish to train to meet with me at noon,” he decided. “But once they begin to train, they will belong to me and my men. Their time will be ours, and when they are ready, they will be sent to my keep for the rest of their training.”
“Thank ye, Laird. There is one more favor that I would ask of ye.”
Harris had already asked for much, but there was a shrewd gleam in the man’s eye, and Theo was intrigued.
“Aye?”
“A lass I would like ye to meet and consider. Now, before ye object, I know that many have been throwing their daughters at ye. This is not that. Gemma is a little older, independent, strong, smart, talented, and beautiful.”
“And why have I not seen her before?”
“She has been busy. She is our weaver, and the bulk of the shipment that went out were her tapestries, but she is here tonight.” Harris turned and pointed. Theo followed his finger and sucked in his breath. There, in the dying light of the fire, was a beauty indeed. Long dark hair gleamed of the fire’s brilliant hues, and her creamy skin stood out from the rest. She was a small thing, practically bending her head all the way back to the large man who stood next to her. There was a brilliant smile on her face and laughter in her eyes.
“A beauty indeed,” Theo muttered. In that instant, he knew he needed to hear her voice, to see if her skin was as soft as it looked. His body came alive just by the thought of her.
Then, the highlander that had put the smile on her face, turned. Theo snarled.
It was Graeme MacSeaver.
“I don’t think my new laird would approve of you stealing away one of his own,” Gemma chuckled. Next to her, the hulking highlander seemed a little put out by her casual rejection. Graeme MacSeaver had been here for two days, and thanks to the others, she had successfully avoided him until tonight. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to recognize her, and that made things easier for her.
He was not here to cart her off to Fletcher after all.
Especially since she got the sense that she might actually like the man if she knew his intentions.
“But ye’re English,” he argued. “Ye swear no fealty to the Highlands.”
“I am English, and if you think I won’t be faithful to you, then why are you even trying?”
“Ye have spirit!”
Her stomach churned. There was another MacSeaver who had spoken those very words to her once. “And it would be your pleasure to break me?” she asked softly.
“Oh, lass.” He reached out and captured a loose tendril of hair. “I doonae know who said that to ye, but I will find him and rip out his heart for ye. In the Highlands, we doonae break a spirited lass. We cherish them.”
If only he knew. “Well, I have all the hearts I need right now, but I appreciate the offer. Now, there are three lovely ladies over there who have been eyeing you all night, and I suspect that you’ll find them far more agreeable than me. Besides, I have a task that I need to complete, and then I am going home.”
“What kind of task? Shall I help?”
Privately, she laughed. “No, I think I can handle this one all on my own. But I appreciate your offer.”
“I shall see ye again before I leave,” he promised before he kissed her knuckles and turned and walked away.
One man down. One man to go.
It was easy to find Theodore MacDougal; she’d been aware of him ever since she’d felt his gaze upon her. He wielded the kind of presence that made it impossible not to notice him, but even if the other women weren’t constantly wagging their tongues over his midnight-black hair and those gorgeous blue eyes, she would know that he was a man of power.
Her heart hammered in her chest when she realized that he was walking toward her, and there was a hunger in his eyes.
Flee! her mind whispered. Yes, she should run while she still had the chance, but nobody had ever affected her this way, and the man had yet to say a single word to her.
This was who everyone wanted her to marry? This was the man they were willing to sacrifice her to?
“Ye must be Gemma,” he said in a husky voice as he stopped in front of her. “I am Theo MacDougal, yer laird.”
Taking her hand, he lifted it to his lips. Graeme’s kiss still lingered on her skin, but it was a distant memory as his lip skimmed her knuckles.
If she turned into a liquified puddle right at his feet, she would never live down the humiliation. “That’s Lady Gemma,” she said as she leaned heavily on her English accent. Immediately, Theo dropped it as though it had been burned. “Lady Gemma Merrimen, the daughter of the Duke of Flinton.”
“Ye’re English?” he hissed. “What the bloody hell are ye doing here?”
She blinked innocently at him. “Laird MacDougal, this is my home. I have lived here for a little over a year now.”
“How did ye get here?”
“Well, I had to take a carriage from my father’s estate, but as I’m sure you well know, a carriage can’t navigate the mountains, so I climbed up on horseback. I was given the sweetest mare. Her name is Daisy. I think a child must have named her, but I still have her in one of the stables. Her hair is almost as dark as yours. I thought my hair was dark, but it seems almost mousy compared to yours.”
“Damnation, woman, I wilnae have some aristocrat declaring war on me because his daughter is here. Ye will return immediately.”
She was deliberately flighty, leading him on the merry chase to really bring down the hammer. “Oh, my father knows that I am here. It was his idea, actually. He thinks I’m a married woman, and I’m certain he’s already spent the coin he was paid for my hand.”
If Theo’s eyes bulged any more, they would fall right out of his head. A nasty vein was appearing in his forehead. “Who the hell were ye to wed?”
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I guess I should have realized that you didn’t know when you asked how I got here. It’s so strange. Everyone knows.”
“Lady Gemma,” he said through clenched teeth.
�
��A year ago, I was purchased and brought here to be married, but then he forgot all about me and married someone else. I wonder, now that he’s a widow, if Laird Fletcher MacSeaver will remember his bride-to-be that he stashed away?”
4
Theo could barely think as he stared at the beauty. Fletcher MacSeaver had purchased her? Somehow, that didn’t surprise him, but what kind of English milksop sold his own daughter to a man so much older than her?
Then he remembered that his own father wasn’t exactly the most loving family member either.
“Do ye wish to marry MacSeaver?” he asked cautiously.
“Heavens, no!” she laughed, and it sounded like music drenching him. Taking a shuddering breath, he reveled in it and wondered what he could do to make her laugh again.
Unfortunately, comedy wasn’t his strong suit.
“Do ye wish to marry Graeme MacSeaver?” The young and handsome heir apparently was a far better choice than the father, and he had seen Graeme kissing her knuckles just moments before.
A look of delight sparked in her eyes, and he felt a strange flicker of jealousy before that same laugh escaped her lips. “Absolutely not.”
Relief swept through him. He’d only just met the woman, and it startled him to think of how much power she had over him. Yes, he most certainly needed to make her his before she caused trouble by turning those eyes on someone else. It was a wonder that men weren’t stampeding to the loch to ask for her hand in marriage.
“Since ye stayed on Loch Moran after the edict that all residents who stayed will be under my protection, ‘tis my duty to look after ye. The others wish for me to marry one of ye. I shall marry ye, Gemma, and then no MacSeaver can touch ye.”
He expected that beautiful smile, even tears of gratitude, but when those lips curled, it was an even more outrageous laugh that fell around him, and this time, it didn’t sound like music.
“Trust a man to think he needs to make a woman his possession to save her!” she said as tears rolled down her cheeks. Wiping them away, she finally gained control of herself. “My desire to not marry Fletcher MacSeaver is out of repugnance, but my desire to not marry Graeme is the same reason that I will not marry you. I have had an entire year away from my father, away from any other man’s threat. I will not give that up. Find someone else in the clan to marry. There are women here more beautiful than I and far more willing to marry you.”
Words escaped him. He wanted to command that she marry him. She might be English, but she was living on his land, and thus belonged to him. He could feel that in his very bones.
But then, it was his father’s voice in his head, telling him to take what he wanted, that had him gritting his teeth.
“Very well, then,” he said hoarsely. “Enjoy the rest of the evening.” Turning, he walked away only to find his next target watching him closely.
“She turned ye down as well?” Graeme asked with a chuckle. “I never thought I’d find an English lass so fetching.”
“What are ye doing here, Graeme? Ye were just here last month.”
“I thought I had a free pass to come whenever I liked.”
“Aye, which is why I am not throwing ye out. I have done nothing to harm any of the people here, so why doonae ye just admit that ye want this land back.”
“I want the land back,” Graeme said instantly.
Theo growled, and the man smirked. “I cannae go up against the king without having all the Highlands against me and lose my people, so I cannae take the land by force.”
“Is that supposed to help me relax?” Men who knew that they were doing wrong didn’t care if that action came with an infusion of power, and that was exactly what the loch was. The waters, the land, held the power to save his people.
“The missive of the king was clear. These people are to be protected. If ye fail to do that, then I can request that the king give me the land back, and I will do what Fletcher could not—protect it.”
Theo raised an eyebrow at the younger man. Most didn’t speak so open against their laird. That was telling about Fletcher’s state of mind, although Theo wasn’t certain about the relationship between Graeme and Fletcher. Graeme was heir, named by the king and Fletcher, but reports said they didn’t spend much time together.
“And since ye arenae laird, how are ye going to keep Loch Moran from falling back into the hands of the man ye swore fealty to?”
Graeme visibly flinched and clenched his jaw. “Fletcher MacSeaver is an old man, weakened by the betrayal of his wife, but he is still my laird, and I would not overthrow him like some men I know.”
“Ye doonae know me or my life, but I wilnae let ye take the loch from me.” Theo tried not to let his rage wash over him. “And ye will stay away from Gemma.”
“The English lass? She has spirit, but ye have not to fear to me. I doona force lasses, so if she comes to me, it will be because she wants to.” Casually, he grinned and looked over his shoulder. “Now there’s a lovely lass over there. Blonde. Young. Naive. Perhaps she is more yer speed.”
Graeme’s laughter stayed with Theo after he walked away, and so did Theo’s fear as he looked about at the small group happily feeding his men.
The fear that Graeme was right. He wouldn’t protect these people, just as his father had never protected his.
The next morning, Gemma woke up late, but she wasn’t worried. After last night’s communal dinner turned into dancing and music and festivities, all of Loch Moran would be sleeping late. Her head swam from last night’s ale, something she’d only learned to enjoy here in the Highlands.
Maybe a little too much.
Groaning, she sat up in bed and shrieked when she realized she wasn’t alone. Standing in front of her loom was the laird of the MacDougals.
“Get out,” she groaned as she sat up and rubbed her head.
Turning his head, he studied her. “I came to make certain that ye made it home safely when ye finally left. Ye left yer door standing wide open.”
“Maybe I was leaving it open for someone.” Is this man a morning person? Now there is definitely no way we could ever marry!
He ignored her. “I closed it and returned this morning to see how ye were fairing. I had no idea the English could drink that much, especially one with such a tiny body.”
“That is the last time you get to talk about my body.”
“I had heard about the small rich lands by the water that could grow three times the normal harvest. Spices that would bring wealth to a clan. Herds of animals that grew the thickest of hides from these waters.”
“If you’re about to segue from thick animal hides back to my body, I may have to murder you.”
With a chuckle, he turned back to her loom. “But no one ever spoke of the beautiful tapestries that come from here. These would be worth a fortune, but MacSeaver has never boasted of riches from art.”
“That is because I don’t sell them.” Wrapping her blanket around her, she stood and weaved.
Immediately, Theo was by her side, steadying her. “I know,” he said quietly. “Instead, you trade what could have made you a wealthy woman for food, clothes, and shelter for these people.”
He knew. His words penetrated the haze of her hangover, and she froze.
“Don’t do this,” she whispered.
“Do what?”
“Don’t take the tapestries away from me. Please. If you starve these people to death, if you don’t care for them, who will farm these rich fields for you? Dry the spices? Hunt the herds?”
“Gemma...”
“I’ll work harder and faster. I’ll make double the tapestries so you can sell some and leave me the others to trade.”
“Gemma.” His hands tightened over her arms. “Would ye quit babbling for a moment and let me thank ye?”
Unable to move in his grip or do more than stare into his handsome face, she gaped. “Thank me? For what?”
“For taking care of them when nobody else did.” Releasing her, he stepped b
ack. “It won’t be necessary anymore. I’m receiving aid from my allies to make certain that everyone has what they need until the next harvest, and they have given me a generous amount of time to pay them back. The harvest won’t be like before.”
Gemma eyed him suspiciously. “You aren’t using Loch Moran to bring wealth to your people?”
“I’m using Loch Moran to get them back on their feet,” he admitted. “But my people will be helping, so there will be enough to go around. You may do as you wish to your tapestries.”
Pulling the blanket tighter around herself, she looked at him skeptically. “So you’re telling me that if I sell my tapestries, I can keep the coin?”
“Aye. There is a tax, of course.”
At that, Gemma chuckled. “Of course. Well, now that you’ve said your piece, do you think you could get out of my house? I do have a reputation to protect.”
A slow smile curved over his handsome face. “So, you didn’t keep your door open waiting for someone?”
“Get out,” she growled and grabbed a broom. Swatting his legs, she chased him out while he laughed the whole time. Slamming the door behind him, she leaned against it and took a deep breath.
The man had a strange way of affecting her.
5
There were two main groups of people who’d stayed behind in Loch Moran. The elderly were either too stubborn or too wise to move back to MacSeaver land, and the young were hoping for someone to teach them after MacSeaver’s men had turned their backs on him.
Theo surveyed the small group of men who’d gathered for training now. Some of them were far too young, but as they ran around, swatting each other with sticks and laughing, Theo noticed that none of his men had sent them home.
Even Thomas, who was usually the most hardened, smiled a little as he watched them.
With a hand on the hilt of his sword, Theo stormed forward. “Is that what ye call soldiers?” he bellowed. “Stand in line!”
They all scrambled in line, and his soldiers formed another behind them. Slowly, Theo walked up and down as he studied them. Most of them were the right age. Some were older than his men were used to training. They would be more stubborn and more set in their ways, but those with the heart of a solider would fall in line. The youngest weren’t even close to being ready, but it would still help them to watch and learn for when they were ready.
Highlander’s Lesser Evil: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Highlands' Deceptive Lovers Book 4) Page 3