The Scot's Quest (Highland Swords Book 4)

by Keira Montclair

  How did he do it?

  “Derric, stop, please,” she said, panting.

  He pulled back quickly, a confused look on his face. “Did I do something wrong? I thought you were enjoying this as much as I was.” He did his best to straighten a few of her hairs that had gone astray, tucking them behind her ear.

  Every place he touched reacted to him. She ran her finger down the rough stubble on his jawline, over his full bottom lip. “I do enjoy it. More than you know.” His golden locks looked brown at night, gently curling at the ends where they hit his shoulders. “I have a favor to ask of you, Derric. Something unusual. Something I wouldn’t ask of anyone else.”

  “I’ll do anything for you if I can.”

  “All right,” she said, pausing to consider what she was planning, wanting to be sure. “But what I want cannot happen here or this eve. We’ll have to plan another time.”

  He looked at her, more confused than ever.

  “Take my maidenhead. I don’t want it anymore.”

  Chapter Six

  “What the hell?” Derric jumped up as fast as if he’d been struck by ten arrows from a row of Englishmen. He’d never been so shocked over anything another person had said.

  She sprung up nearly as quickly. “Not now. I’m just asking if we could arrange for it to happen later.”

  “Nay.” His answer came out in nearly a shout, but he had to fight to control the emotions raging through him. Desire was first and foremost, and it was a nearly painful challenge to tamp it down now that he knew she wanted him. If he’d stayed next to her on that hilltop, it would have been all over in a matter of minutes since she was willing to allow him liberties. She was too bloody tempting.

  He couldn’t allow that to happen.

  He couldn’t forget that they were on MacLintock land with two of her cousins and her grandsire, all of whom had threatened to unman him if he did anything disrespectful to the lass. He couldn’t forget that the guards were watching them at this moment.

  Somehow he didn’t think looking at her grandfather and saying, “She wanted me to do it,” would suffice.

  Els and Alasdair would string him up by his bollocks for all to see. Or…

  Visions of her grandsire tying a rope to his bollocks and dragging him behind his horse caused him to sweat, in more places than he’d ever sweat before.

  He coughed and began pacing, taunted by the imagery in his mind, which completely reversed his arousal.

  “Derric? Am I truly that undesirable to you?”

  “What?” He raced over to stand in front of her, taking her hands. “Nay. You’re the most beautiful lass I’ve ever known. And you’re courageous and funny. I love talking with you, but…” Bloody hell, but the pain in her gaze made him wish to do what she asked, just to make that look go away.

  “But what?”

  “I did tell you that your cousins and your grandfather threatened me, did I not? Have you forgotten so quickly? I surely haven’t.” He began to pace again, running his hands through his hair. Now that he thought on it, he shouldn’t be up here with her, or even alone with her. Would the guards tell Alasdair?

  What the hell had he been thinking to kiss her the way he had on MacLintock land?

  The answer was simple: he had no control over his base urges when it came to Dyna Grant. None.

  “But ’tis not their decision. ’Tis mine.”

  He stopped to stare at her, his hands on his hips. “I doubt they would agree with you, Dyna. You don’t really think they would, do you?” He reached for her hand. “Come, we must return, or they’ll be coming after me soon.”

  She followed him for a few paces, then tugged on his hand to stop him. “Derric, wait.”

  They stood a hand’s length apart. She took his chin and forced him to gaze into her eyes. Her beautiful blue eyes were full of hurt, and he hated himself for it. “Lass, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Aye, it should be your decision, but you’re not a camp follower. You have a clan who watches over you. Have you forgotten you’re of noble blood? Even the King of England watches over you just because you’re the daughter of a chieftain. He could order your marriage just as he did Emmalin’s match with the baron. If I took your maidenhead, I would have to marry you. Are you ready for that?”

  Her scowl was so deep that he stepped back and arched his brow. It was a battle of the wrinkling foreheads before either of them said anything.

  “What? You wouldn’t want to marry me?” he asked, a little hurt by her reaction.

  “You would?” The look on her face was so nuanced, he couldn’t hope to read it.

  Hellfire, but he could feel his own forehead doing things he hadn’t told it to do. “If I took your maidenhead, I would want to marry you.”

  “But ’tis the only reason?”

  “Lass, stop forcing me to make decisions about something that hasn’t happened.” This was not going well, and he had no idea how to change that. Everything he said seemed to dig the hole he was in a little bit deeper. Soon he’d be burying himself.

  “Never mind. I have my answer.” She raced ahead of him.

  Shite. She was so fast, he couldn’t hope to keep up.

  Not that he’d know what to say if he managed to catch up. He sure as hell hadn’t done anything to complete his quest to find out why her grandsire considered her soft-hearted. A hard arse and a stubborn wench were the terms that came to mind after this interlude.

  Nay, that wasn’t quite true—he’d seen the flash of pain in her eyes—and yet, he wasn’t sure where that left them. He’d hoped to see if they suited, but neither of them seemed able or willing to admit to having strong feelings for the other. The truth was she’d scowled the moment he mentioned marriage.

  Mayhap she wasn’t interested in anything but a means to an end.

  The end of her maidenhead.

  ***

  Dyna threw the keep door open with a bang, a move she instantly regretted because it brought all the eyes in the hall straight to her.

  Every single person in the great hall stared at her, a mass of questioning glances that she had no wish to acknowledge.

  Blushing, she nodded, trying not to act flustered as she made her way up the stairs to her bedchamber. She didn’t wish to cause Derric any trouble. Everything they’d done had been her idea. Except for the kiss.

  Tears pricked her eyes, and she struggled to hold them back as she entered her chamber and lowered onto the edge of one of the beds. It was a chamber for guests, equipped with enough beds for a few lasses.

  Someone knocked on her door a few moments later.

  “Enter.” She swiped at any tears that had managed to fall, too proud to let on what had happened.

  The door opened, revealing Alasdair. He stared at her before he spoke, his usual tactic—assess the situation first, then speak. Hardly her philosophy, but this was her beloved Alasdair.

  His chin lifted a bit as he perused her face. “Answer me one question. Was he inappropriate with you?”

  “Who?” Doing her best to summon a look of innocence, she glanced up at her cousin from her perch on the bed, not wanting to let on that her problem was indeed related to Derric.

  “I think you know,” he said, stepping inside. Emmalin came in behind him, but she stayed back to let them talk. “Don’t play innocent. He left with you.”

  “Alasdair, naught happened. Derric did not hurt me.” She paused, considering, then said, “But I would ask a question of you.”

  “I’m listening,” he said, moving closer.

  She glanced from him to Emmalin and back. “How did you know Emmalin was the right one for you? How did you…When did you… I don’t even know exactly what to ask, dammit.” Her hands curled around the covers, yanking them sideways. “What made you decide to marry Emmalin?”

  Alasdair smiled, something she didn’t see often enough. If only it weren’t at her expense. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Nay,” he said, sitting next to her on the bed. “You just
made me think of a conversation I had with Grandsire on the parapets. I asked him how he knew Grandmama was the right one for him.”

  “And?”

  “His answer didn’t help. He said he knew when he first saw her, but that he fought against it. In the beginning, he was more concerned about protecting her than anything else. That was how I felt with Emmalin at first. I had a fierce need to protect her, to keep her by my side.” He glanced back at Emmalin and reached for her hand. She stepped closer and rested her head on his shoulder. Then he continued, “And you helped me, too, Dyna. Don’t you recall yelling at me outside the gates?”

  Dyna had forgotten that time, when she’d known he carried so much pain after losing his parents that he couldn’t speak of it. That his pain blocked his ability to see Emmalin and the possibility of a relationship with her. “I’d forgotten. That helped you know she was for you?”

  “Oddly, aye. I couldn’t imagine marrying someone without my parents present, but that was impossible. I had to accept that first. Once I did that, then I could consider marriage. But I never seriously considered standing in front of a priest until I spoke with Grandsire. And after what happened to my da after Mama died…well, I still was unsure. Do you love Derric?”

  “I don’t know.” She paused. “I’m not sure I know what love is. How can I tell?”

  “I’ll tell you how. When you’re in love with someone, you can’t bear to be parted from them. When I left Emmalin to return to Grant Castle, all I could think of was returning to MacLintock land. Do you wish to go with Derric when he leaves?”

  She gave it some thought, then shrugged. “Sometimes.”

  “But you’ll leave with Grandsire even if Derric chooses not to go with you?”

  “Of course. I have to go with Grandsire.”

  “Then you’re not ready for marriage. You’re holding back.” He gave her an assessing look. “Are you sure he didn’t do or say something inappropriate?”

  She shook her head. “Nay, but I can take care of myself.”

  He stepped away from Emmalin, kissing her cheek, then knelt down in front of Dyna. “If anything changes, say the word, and I’ll send him off in a deserving manner. You needn’t worry about Joya.” He brushed some wild strands back off her face. “I’ll not allow him to hurt you.”

  She shook her head and waved him off. “He couldn’t hurt me if he tried.”

  Another look passed between husband and wife, and Alasdair leaned down to kiss Dyna’s forehead and left.

  Emmalin sat down on the other side of her on the bed. “Is he a bastard? Many of them are.”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle over that accurate pronouncement. “Nay, he did naught wrong. ’Twas me. I did something I shouldn’t have and I regret it.”

  “Do you wish to talk about it?”

  Surprisingly she did, so she said in her usual blunt way, “I asked Derric to take my maidenhead.” Her pledge to take her secret to the grave hadn’t lasted long.

  Emmalin didn’t act the least bit shocked. “And did he oblige you?”

  Confused by the possibility that he could have done such a thing so quickly, and well within view of the guards, she decided not to venture into that unknown territory. Best she didn’t know, at this point. “He refused. Said it would never happen unless we were married or willing to marry.”

  “Good for Derric. ’Tis exactly what he should have said.”

  “Nay…” She’d hoped for a different response from the woman who’d laughed so bawdily earlier.

  Emmalin reached for her hand and squeezed it. “I know you’re curious, but you’re of noble blood. If he wished to, our king could betroth you to a stranger, as he did with me. No one would dare try it since you’re a Grant, but any man who steps in to relieve a laird’s daughter of her virtue could be flogged, beaten, or killed. Is that what you wish to bring down on Derric? Because I think you just saw evidence from your cousin that Derric would have regretted it had he taken you up on your offer. I imagine you would have as well.”

  Dyna bolted up from the bed. “’Tis my maidenhead to give to whom I wish, no one else’s.”

  “Dyna, one of the things I love about you is that you see things differently than most people. But you’ll not find many men in this world who would agree with you about that. You’re talking with a woman who was forced to marry an Englishman, and a cruel one at that. No one gave a fig about me except for the fact that I had my maidenhead. King Edward had no consideration for me at all. I was a pawn in a game of power. Don’t be hurt by Derric’s refusal. ’Tis the way of the world and he knows it.”

  “I suppose,” she muttered. “But I am curious. My parents have always said that I can marry for love. And yet, I never thought it would happen. If we do marry… Claray wouldn’t be able to handle it if we lived anywhere but Grant Castle.” She paused, flustered, then admitted, “I don’t know what to do. Derric makes me feel things I’ve not felt before, and I don’t know how to handle myself with him. I feel like a young fool when I’m around him.”

  “Mayhap ’tis the excitement of new love you are feeling. I liked that feeling with Alasdair. Being close to him always made me feel butterflies were swarming my stomach. He was the only one who could make me giggle when times were the worst. Whenever he was around, I believed in the good in the world. I don’t know how better to explain it than that. If you feel that way with Derric, then think hard about sending him away. And as for his reaction to you, you do know that your cousins cornered him and threatened him with a wild boar, do you not?”

  “What?” Dyna barked. He’d told her they’d warned him off, but they’d done it with a boar? Why couldn’t they trust her to take care of her own business, to see to her own welfare?

  “And your grandsire took him aside after that, though your cousins don’t know what was said between them. Joya said her brother looked a wee bit green in the face after he returned.”

  Emmalin stood up, patted Dyna’s shoulder, and said, “Don’t take Derric’s answer to heart. He was worried about keeping his bollocks, if I were to guess. And don’t do something you may regret later.”

  No matter how much she wished to argue with Emmalin’s points, she found she couldn’t. Her friend was right. “My thanks for your honesty.” Emmalin’s descriptions of the butterflies perfectly matched the way Dyna felt whenever Derric was near. It had never happened with another man.

  Was she falling in love with Derric Corbett?

  Emmalin made her way to the door, then stopped and turned to look at her again, leaning on the door frame. “Are you going to send him away?”

  “Nay,” Dyna said. “He’s brash and he doesn’t know how to keep quiet, but I don’t wish for him to leave. If he stays, ’twill be easier for me to discover the truth of my feelings. But I’ll not ask him to take my maidenhead again. I can see ’twas too forward of me.”

  “Good. Don’t rush it. Enjoy your time with him.” Emmalin smiled and left.

  How she wished her seer’s abilities would come to the rescue now. Was Derric the one for her or not?

  Unfortunately, she received no answer.

  Chapter Seven

  Derric was so shaken by Dyna’s question that he wasn’t prepared to go back inside and face her cousins. He found his way to the stables, marching down to the end of the row until he saw a stable lad. “Have you any animals that are unsettled this eve? Any that are tough to put a saddle on or ornery in any way?” He liked a challenge, and working with horses calmed him. He needed that right now.

  “Just Misty at the end. She prefers Lady Dyna, and whenever Dyna is upset, she gets upset,” the lad said, pointing to the last stall. “I wouldn’t go inside or she’ll kick you, mayhap even try to bite you.”

  “Was Dyna here?”

  “Nay, but Misty senses her mood. ’Tis uncanny the way it happens, but I’ve seen it many times. She needs a good brushing, but no one will go near her.” Then he held out a brush, a hopeful expression on his face.

&nb
sp; “I’ll see what I can do, lad.”

  The lad smiled and ran off in the opposite direction, clearly less than confident in Derric’s abilities. Derric searched for a barrel of treats and found an apple for the beast before heading down to the mare’s stall. Once he got there, her ears moved back and she showed her teeth to him. It definitely didn’t look like a smile. Opening the gate, she quickly came over and gave him a push, as if to tell him to leave her alone, but he started rubbing her withers, surprised that she allowed it so quickly. She took the proffered treat and chomped down on the apple, chewing slowly.

  Derric continued, talking to her in a quiet voice, watching her teeth for that bite he’d been warned about, but she was too occupied by the apple to attempt it. Her movements were restless, even inside the stall. The stallion across the way gave a nicker, watching them.

  “So that’s why you’re uncomfortable, aye?” Derric asked. He wants your attention and you aren’t interested in him? Mayhap you sensed the same in your lady. She was upset with me, but not that upset. We had a lovely time together.” He stopped rubbing her for a moment and she nudged him to continue.

  Her movements slowly calmed, and she leaned into him, inviting him to pet her muzzle. He stroked it and brought the brush up to her neck. “Why, mayhap you’re just exhausted. Has your mistress pushed you too hard? Or perhaps you like working hard. Are you ready to take her for another ride?” Misty nickered, as if to say aye, and he chuckled in response. “You aren’t so mad now, are you? In fact, I’ll find you another apple.”

  He left, and the horse tried to follow him, something that both delighted him and caught him by surprise. If a horse followed you, it usually meant they were fond of you, but he kept her inside the stall. He didn’t wish to upset the big stallions nearby.

  After grabbing a few more apples, he offered the treats to the beasts paying attention to him, each one nickering or nudging him with a thank you. Once he’d given the other treats out, he returned to Misty and gave her a soft hug. “You’re much calmer than Dyna, or are you trying to tell me something about her? Her grandsire thinks she has a soft heart. What say you?” he whispered, speaking so low no one would hear him.