Highlander’s Lesser Evil: A Scottish Medieval Historical Romance (Highlands' Deceptive Lovers Book 4)

by Adamina Young

  Gemma’s heart skipped at the ice in his voice. Moving slowly, she put her hands on his chest. “Don’t let him put anger or fear in your heart,” she whispered so that only he could hear. “I will not be swayed by his false tongue, so you have no need to worry about me.”

  He dropped his gaze to hers. “And when will ye learn, my dear, that I am always worried about ye?”

  “How sweet,” Patrick said snidely. “I wonder if ye will give her a second thought when ye find her body broken and lifeless because of a decision ye made. Will ye wait long enough for her to bear yer heir, or will ye simply go out and find another?”

  Taking Gemma’s hand, he led her out of the gate. His grip was painful, but he didn’t let up until they were clear of the last grouping of guards. “I should have told ye where he was the moment I got here,” he growled. “I doonae want ye to ever go there again.”

  “I thought it was—”

  He silenced her with a kiss. It was harsh and brutal, and it caused her to bloom pink from her toes to her cheeks. In the middle of the main hall, they had an audience of soldiers and servants coming and going, but in that moment, there was only Theo.

  “I know what ye thought,” he said as he jerked away, “but I wouldnae have that man poisoning ye with his attempts at manipulations nor his words.”

  “I’m sorry, Theo. Truly, I am. I won’t go back there again.”

  “I would have yer word on this, Gemma.”

  It wasn’t like she wanted to go back there. She nodded. “You have my word.”

  Satisfied, he stepped back and nodded. “Then, come. I wish to spend the rest of my evening with ye and Hamish. He is leaving in the morning, but some issues have arisen that I will need to take care of before I return to Loch Moran, so I will be here a few more days.”

  Her heart lifted even as she recognized the disappointment in his voice. Something was worrying him, but he didn’t seem to want to burden her with it. When was he going to learn that she could be his other half, to help him when he needed it?

  When will he let me in?

  18

  “What are the chances that MacSeaver is working without Graeme’s knowledge?” Hamish asked over dinner. They were dining privately. Theo knew that Gemma, who was used to her village dinners, thought it was odd, but the truth was that he usually dined alone. When he’d first taken over as laird, he’d weeded through the guards, leaving only those he trusted, but his Great Hall was still mostly empty during mealtimes. When Patrick had been laird, he’d made the meals mandatory, even for the guards who had families at home, and used them to torment the weaker. They’d become an affair of fear.

  Now that dining was optional, they didn’t show. It hurt him more than he’d wanted to admit that no one trusted him, but he hadn’t accrued all that much goodwill following his father’s orders. Even those he’d helped in private weren’t brave enough to come forward on his behalf, but he didn’t blame them.

  There was still so much blood on his hands.

  The decision to stay for a few more days wasn’t an easy one for him. The warrior in him roared to return to Loch Moran so he could protect it, but he had people here as well, and Hamish had reported that his people were seeking ways off the land. His stomach churned at the thought. He’d thought that MacDougals would survive anything, but now it seemed that they would rather flee than deal with him.

  And, it appeared there were still those loyal to his father. There was no other reason for that note to end up with Gemma. He suspected they were the ones who were bullying the others to leave. If he couldn’t keep his people, the king would hand his clan to someone else.

  That would not happen.

  “I think ‘tis more likely that Graeme is working without Fletcher’s knowledge. He joined the battle and fought for our side, but ‘tis also possible he wants me to trust him.”

  “Ye do trust him.” Hamish cocked his head. “Ye doonae want to trust that feeling.”

  “Can ye blame me?”

  “You trust Hamish, and you have not known him long,” Gemma pointed out.

  Theo and Hamish both straightened and stared at her. How could she even question that? “He is my brother.”

  “And I just met your father. Blood in your family doesn’t automatically mean trust and kinship.”

  An unsettled feeling spread through him, but he refused to indulge the whisper that he shouldn’t trust anyone. He’d decided to bond with his brother, to fight alongside him and nearly die with him. He wouldn’t let his father’s voice sway him.

  “Vera well, perhaps I do have an instinct to trust Graeme, and I wilnae push that away ‘til he gives me reason,” he told his wife. She smiled, and he found it soothed him to know that she was pleased.

  “My people?” he asked Hamish.

  “A few have tried to flee in your absence. The guards stopped them and alerted me. They seemed at a loss for what to do. I had my men escort them to my land for now.”

  Theo stiffened. “Ye took my people?”

  “I wanted ye to speak to them where they could feel safe, to learn why they wanted to flee now,” Hamish said without a beat. “Their stay is only temporary unless ye want otherwise.”

  It was his instinct to demand them back, but Hamish was acting with great diplomacy, and Theo would need to do the same.

  Gemma put her hand on his arm, and he relaxed. “I appreciate that, and yer help.”

  “Gemma, Theo tells me that ye are a weaver. How did that come about?”

  Delight sprang into her eyes. “When I first arrived at Loch Moran, I was useless and terrified. I thought that at any minute I’d be collected and wedded to a cruel highland laird. Ana lived in the cottage before me, and she took me in. Claimed that if I were to stay with her, then I needed to be helpful. So at first, I helped feed the yarn and keep it untangled. Then, she taught me some of her techniques, and within a few months, I was doing most of the work. Her strength was leaving her, and she was gone not long after that, but she’d taught me enough to start on my own. I built up my technique from there.”

  “And it is yer passion?” Hamish guessed.

  “Oh, yes. Very much. I’d never thought much about art until that moment, but there is something truly remarkable about putting your passion into something.”

  “And ye did it all for Loch Moran.” Admiration shone in Hamish’s face, and Theo felt a grain of pride as well. “Ye are a remarkable lass.”

  “Aye, she is.”

  Gemma narrowed her eyes. “I can start weaving again for the good of the clan when I have my looms.”

  She was stubborn, but he certainly wanted to make her happy. “When I go back to Loch Moran, I’ll reach out to Agnes and some others to pack yer looms, and I will prepare a wagon to return them,” he promised.

  It wasn’t the first time he’d promised that, but she was mollified.

  “And so the scared lass became a beloved artist, and yet she is still wedded to a terrifying highland laird,” Hamish teased. “Grace will be happy to provide sanctuary to ye when ye need it.”

  “Never going to happen,” Theo growled. He didn’t want to admit that he was worried that Gemma might take him up on the offer. What would he do if Gemma ran from him?

  Ye are going to run her off yerself, that niggling voice whispered in his mind. Hadn’t he already told her that she would have to relocate to raise their children?

  His stomach twisted as he looked across the table at her, but there was a twinkling of mischief in her eyes. “I am looking forward to meeting my new sister.”

  “Ye had plenty of sisters,” he reminded her.

  “I did, but I didn’t really like them. I expect that it will be different with Grace. She is a warrior? Perhaps she could teach me a few things.”

  “Ye doonae need to learn anything,” Theo said quickly. “I will protect ye.”

  “You are protecting two territories, Theo. You won’t always be there.”

  The image flashed in his mind; Gemma,
huddled on the battlefield with a terrified boy under her arm while she tried to heft a sword. No, he never wanted her to be in that position again.

  “Dinner is over,” he said abruptly as he gave Hamish a stern look. “I will see ye in the morning, Brother.”

  A knowing smile crossed his face, and he nodded. “Have a good evening.”

  Gemma looked a little disgruntled at the abrupt end to dinner, but she let him pull her up from the table and down the hall. He needed to erase that image from his mind. He needed to spend the rest of the evening with her in his arms, knowing that she was safe.

  “I want to know how to please you,” Gemma whispered as she stretched in the aftermath of her orgasm. The light from the fire flickered over her sweat-covered skin, and her body still trembled against his.

  “Ye please me vera much,” Theo said as he inhaled deeply. Her taste was still mingled on his tongue; her cries still echoed in his mind as he’d driven her to the top with his mouth on her sex, an act that seemed to terrify and exhilarate her all at the same time.

  To prove his point, he nudged his hardness against her thigh, and she chuckled and reached down to grasp it. Moaning, he thrust a couple of times into her small palms, marveling at the softness of her skin.

  “And that most definitely pleases me,” he said.

  Wanting to make tonight last, he got up and poured them each some water from the pitcher. She watched him steadily as she drank hers and handed the glass back. Sitting back on the edge of the bed, he started to trace little patterns over her skin with his fingers.

  “And if I use my mouth? Will that please you?”

  At the thought, he froze the languid movements of his fingers over her thigh. His blood heated, and she let out a husky laugh. “So, you are intrigued by that.”

  “Ah, lass. Ye have no idea how intrigued I am by that.”

  She eased off the bed and knelt between his legs. “You will have to tell me what to do. I have only heard...” Her words trailed off as her cheeks pinked.

  “And who have ye been talking about this?” His voice was gentle and teasing, but his interest was piqued.

  “Women talk, Theo,” she chuckled. Her hands circled him again, and he found that he cared less about the gossip of women and more about what she planned to do with him.

  She made the loveliest of pictures, kneeling in front of him with her large dark eyes staring up at him in earnest. Squeezing, she asked him what to do.

  Afraid that he might lose control, he fisted his hands in the blankets and slowly guided her until her tongue was flicking out over the tip, driving him wild and making him ache. They had barely begun to scratch the surface, and already his need for her was beyond words.

  Finally, she opened her mouth and took him in a few inches, playing that mischievous tongue under him and withdrawing, sucking him until he was groaning.

  “Ah, lass,” he whispered, “ye are truly magnificent.”

  Her throat vibrated as she moaned, and she moved again, a little faster, and he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer. Finally, with a cry, he pushed her back and hauled her up until she was straddling him on the bed. “Was I not doing a good job?” she asked in wonder.

  “Oh, lass, ye were wonderful, but I need to be inside ye.” He nudged at her entrance, and her eyes widened when she realized what he intended. “Take me inside ye, Gemma.”

  Sucking on that bottom lip, she moved and lowered on him, excruciatingly slow, her face mirroring his pleasure. “Theo,” she whispered as she clutched at her shoulders. “I feel, oh...this feels wonderful.”

  He was deeper, and she was clenching around him tighter than ever before. As she moved, slowly at first to adjust to the new position, he leaned back again the bed, enjoying the view as she rose over him. She claimed her power over him instantly, taking control and teasing him, driving them both higher and higher. When she finally burst around him in a beautiful display of pleasure and love, he could think of only one thing as he buried himself inside of her.

  I belong to her.

  19

  Gemma felt like she was floating the next day. Theo had spent half the night loving her, and she knew that things were different between them now. Maybe now he would have more faith in their future together.

  She tackled the next step with gusto. After giving Theo a kiss on the cheek in the morning and telling him to enjoy his last few minutes with his brother, she snagged a biscuit and an apple and hurried out. She could feel Theo’s gaze on her back, but she didn’t dare tell him her plan. He’d tell her that she was wasting her time.

  She was determined to prove to him that his people were worth more than just protecting. He also needed to fight for their respect.

  At first, no one would even look at her, and she stayed quiet as she walked and watched. For the adults, their spirits were broken. They kept their eyes down, and there was no joy in their faces, but it was different with the children. They didn’t know enough about their surroundings to feel anything other than the green grass beneath their feet and the wind in their hair.

  Spying some children frolicking with the sheep in a pen, Gemma leaned against the fence and smiled as she watched. In London, being outside her home was insufferable. The streets were dirty and crowded with people, and she was always being watching and judged. Here, in the open air, it was just her and people who didn’t care if she wore the latest fashion or only spoke to the right people. Here, there was freedom.

  And she was determined that the rest would feel the same.

  “Who are ye to be watching my lad?” a voice thundered from behind her. Gemma turned to find the largest man she’d ever laid eyes on running toward her. The children’s laughter died down, and the man stopped right in front of her, anger blazing in his eyes. “My child wilnae be a pawn in yer game, Mistress MacDougal.”

  Her heart hammered in her chest, but she remained calm. He was not the first man to bully her, and he would not be the last. “I am glad that you know who I am, but I am not here to use the children. They seem to be the only joy in this land, and I would not do anything to harm that.”

  The fires died, but the anger remained. “Aye, well, ye can blame yer husband for that.”

  “Could I?” Gemma cocked her head. “I learned just the other day that the open areas near the river, where the children used to play, were blocked off by the previous laird in an attempt to tap down on the amount of time you get together and relax and enjoy yourselves. One of the first things Theo did was give you access.”

  “Aye, but he has a reason for it. Sending out spies to watch and listen for us, no doubt. Well, ye can tell that husband of yers that he wilnae take my thoughts or my speech. I will damn well say that he is a terrible laird!”

  He all but roared the last words, and the others nearby looked up sharply with fear in their eyes. Gemma nodded. “Good. You should speak your mind, but you should also be able to prove why. This is my first trip to my new home, and I would like to learn how to help.”

  There was a tug on her skirt, and Gemma looked down to see a darling freckled little girl gripping a wooden doll. “I like the laird,” she whispered. “He saved me dolly from the river.”

  Bending down, she kissed the girl on the head. “He will do more than save your dolly if you let him.” Straightening, she looked the man directly in the eye. “He has spent the last week at Loch Moran, risking his life to protect it to use the resources to share with you.”

  “And a year ago, when he murdered my brother in cold blood?” the man hissed. “Was that for the good of the people?”

  “Theo would never—”

  “The laird gave the order, and Theo carried it out like the dutiful son he always was. Even now, I am certain that he is carrying out his father’s orders. A strong man stands on his own, but Theo was never a strong man. And there is nothing that his English wife is going to say to convince me otherwise, nor anyone else in this clan.”

  Snatching up his son, he marched away, and
the other kids hung their heads as they followed. Gemma turned and she saw that they had attracted a following, and none were stepping forward to defend Theo. Her heart sank.

  “You all feel the same?” she asked softly, refusing to give up. “None of you believe in the man who is risking his life to undo the work that his father has done?”

  No one said a word. They just stared at her with strange, blank looks. “Please...Theo is not like his father. If there is something you need or if you have an opinion, he will listen.”

  “He isnae here,” one of the women pointed out. “He hasnae visited the villages. He is too busy with someone else’s people.”

  Anger blazed in her. “The people of Loch Moran have sworn their loyalty to Theo. They are his people just as you are! He is protecting them for you.”

  “They doonae know what he is capable of. We do, so he runs to them!” another man spat. “We are MacDougals, but perhaps we should be Hamiltons. It seems at least one of Patrick’s sons know how to be a leader.”

  The group murmured to themselves as they broke apart.

  Gemma stayed long after the group had dispersed, and when she finally turned, she noticed that she wasn’t alone. Standing behind one of the buildings, leaning against the side, was Theo, and she could tell that he’d heard every word.

  “Theo,” she started, but the blank look on his face stopped her in her tracks. She wanted anger or defiance, but not this. No one thought he deserved the hatred more than him, and she feared he would never learn to fight back.

  “Ye should not be here without a guard,” he said quietly. “Come. This is the last time that ye will go to the villages without me.”