The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection

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The Age of Knights and Highlanders: A Series Starter Collection Page 110

by Kathryn Le Veque


  Her father rounded, his thick arms seeming to bulge. She noticed the Ross brothers studied him with wariness.

  For a long moment, her father was silent. Finally, he turned and glared at Malcolm.

  “Ye will marry my daughter. It will happen without haste.”

  Chapter Nine

  Alec found himself at the sturdy cottage once again. This time, he and two warriors were there to take the woman, Paige, and her grandfather back to the keep. She’d been reluctant, however now, days later, he was sure she’d reconsidered. He noted that the one chicken they owned and had been in a cage was now gone.

  It was sad that his people had been dragged into hard times all because of the rash act of his brother who was too arrogant to see the error of his ways.

  Just as he and his men dismounted, Paige appeared. By the reddening and swelling of her eyes, she’d been crying.

  “As promised, we have returned for ye and yer grandfather.”

  She sagged against the doorjamb. “I require assistance. My grandfather died last night in his sleep.”

  There was a pang in his chest at noting the fact she could barely stand under the weight of her grief. Alec went to her and swooped her up in his arms. “I will send someone to come and see that he is properly buried. Ye need to come with me and be taken care of.”

  Paige did not protest. Instead, she seemed to melt against him. In that instant, Alec realized he never wished to release her.

  “Ye will live at the keep,” he repeated, not sure why since it was the sole purpose for his visit.

  His men went inside and returned with two small bundles that she’d obviously prepared and they mounted their horses.

  “I should go see him,” Paige wailed.

  “It will do no good. My men will return to take care of yer grandfather. I swear it.”

  He took her by the waist and lifted her to the horse, aware of how painfully thin she was. It was as if he lifted a child when placing Paige atop his horse. Her gaze met his for a moment and, through the redness, he saw the beautiful blue color he’d first noticed. Her blonde hair was askew and her shawl lopsided, but none of it distracted from how beautiful the woman was.

  When Alec mounted and held her against his chest, once again, the strong sense of protectiveness took over. He would fight anyone and anything that dared try to take Paige from him.

  When she shivered from the cold, he pulled the heavy tartan around them both, cocooning them in a world they’d share for the short trip to his keep. He wished for the trip to be a longer one. The feeling of her frame against his body made him want to keep her safe for the rest of their lives.

  It must have been apparent because both guardsmen occasionally shifted their gazes toward him and frowned.

  “Have ye lived here all yer life?” Alec asked the quiet woman, trying to distract her from the grief.

  She let out a staggered breath. “Aye. I have never been anywhere else.”

  “I do not remember seeing ye before.”

  “There has been no reason for me to come to the keep. My grandfather did on occasion and then my brother went to see yer father for clan business. I didn’t ever need to go”

  It made sense. There was rarely need for women to come before the laird unless there was some sort of marriage problem or an argument between two of them.

  Alec attempted to shift in his seat. Her round bottom tucked against his most sensitive parts was causing a reaction he didn’t wish to have at the moment. To distract himself, he decided to continue speaking.

  “What of ye? Have ye ever seen me?”

  She nodded. “Aye, twice perhaps. At a festival once and another time when ye competed at the games.” Thankfully, she seemed to not notice his body’s reactions to her body.

  “I wish I had seen ye,” he said and waited for a reaction.

  Once again, she sighed. “When will they return to bury my grandfather? I do not wish for someone to come upon him and get rid of his body to take the cottage.”

  Alec looked to his men and motioned to one. “Go back to the cottage and remain until men return to bury the dead. Ensure that no one destroys anything.”

  “Aye, Laird,” the guard replied and rode away.

  Too soon, they arrived at the McLeod Keep. The imposing, stark grey stone building was high on a hill surrounded by a tall wall for protection.

  Paige immediately sat straighter and leaned forward. Although she shivered, he didn’t try to keep her in the confines of his tartan. He allowed her to keep some form of decorum. In truth, she should have been riding with one of the guards, not with him, the eldest son of the laird and next in line to earn the title.

  The gates were opened as they approached and, soon, Alec and his small party found themselves in the courtyard.

  “I will go directly to the kitchens,” Paige whispered. “If ye would please lower me.”

  Alec didn’t try to argue with her. His own thoughts were in a jumble. “I will ensure ye are shown to a bedchamber. I do not wish ye to do anything today.”

  He intended to let the cook know that Paige was in mourning and should be left to her own devices until he instructed otherwise. She would not be made to work or do any chores unless she desired.

  Unbeknownst to the slight woman he’d been holding, her future was to be far different than she had ever imagined.

  Paige’s legs threatened to give out as she walked in the direction Alec had indicated. She’d barely slept in two days and had no idea what to expect there at the keep. If given the opportunity, she would have remained back in the cottage. However, twice already, robbers had come around. Once they went off with their only goat and the second time with their hen.

  With no eggs or goat’s milk, she and her grandfather had been on the verge of starvation. The food she’d taken back with her from the keep had lasted them for longer than it was meant for. She’d ensured to only eat once a day so her grandfather would have a bit more.

  He’d died in his sleep. Although she mourned, in a way, Paige was relieved he’d not have to see what she’d come to. There was no doubt in her mind what the laird had in mind when it came to her future.

  Although a virgin, she knew what happened when a man was aroused and Alec McLeod had definitely become so. The hardening member pressing into her bottom meant he’d had improper thoughts and desired her.

  She stumbled forward and held the bundles tighter as she looked from one door to the other attempting to remember where the entrance to the kitchens was.

  A young woman rushed past her and although Paige tried to stop her to ask, the woman rushed to the laird. Although Paige was exhausted, she waited for the woman to come back. It was interesting to watch the exchange. The young woman looked toward her and nodded and finally came to Paige.

  “My laird’s son instructed that ye should be taken to a chamber and a meal brought.” The girl grabbed her bundles with surprising strength and marched forward. Paige hurried to catch up.

  “I am Paige. What is yer name?”

  The maid’s warm smile put Paige at ease. “Rhoda. My mam and I work here,” she added for some reason. Then she hurried up steps. “Up here, Miss. I will show ye…”

  Paige interrupted at the top of the steps. “Ye must have misunderstood. There is no reason for me to be up here.”

  “What are ye doing, Rhoda?” An older woman stood just past Rhoda and looked to them with curiosity. By the woman’s fine attire, she was either Alec’s mother or another family member.

  Rhoda froze but then quickly recovered. “Yer son instructed me to bring her here to the guest chamber, my lady.”

  The woman’s eyes roved over Paige, making her feel even more inadequate and weak. “I do not wish to be here. Please show me the kitchens, Rhoda.” She then looked up to the woman. “I am sure he is mistaken, my lady.”

  The older woman looked away and down the stairs for a moment then returned her attention to them. “Do as he says,” she murmured and swept past them and
down the stairs.

  “Who is she?” Paige asked the maid as they entered the first chamber on the left.

  “Lady McLeod,” Rhoda replied. “She is quite a lovely woman.”

  The woman hadn’t seemed unfriendly. Paige would describe her as more stern than anything else. She’d not bother to put anything away or sit on the fine furniture, as she was sure Rhoda would soon be sent back to take her to the servants’ quarters.

  Rhoda didn’t seem to think the same. She hummed as she laid Paige’s bundles on the bed. “Should I help ye put things away?”

  “Nay, I thank ye, but would prefer to be alone right now,” Paige said with a soft smile as to not hurt the girl’s feelings.

  Offering a bright grin in return, Rhoda shrugged. “I will return shortly with a light meal and leave ye to it then.” The girl practically skipped away, obviously a happy spirit.

  Unlike the maid, Paige felt adrift, lost amongst what was to be her life. She wandered to the window and peered out. It would be a few moments before someone came to fetch her and take her to the servants’ quarters. Nonetheless, she went to the washstand and made quick work of washing her face, arms and hands then dried off with the soft cloths that hung on hooks on the side of the stand.

  When no one returned after a few moments, she took out a comb from one of the bundles, returned to the window and loosed her hair. As she watched the comings and goings in the courtyard, she untangled her long tresses.

  There seemed to be much activity. A group of men trained with swords on one end of the courtyard. On the other, women hung wet clothes to dry. A group of women were also gathered around a large simmering pot, seeming to chat while watching over children who ran in circles playing.

  No doubt these people were displaced because of the clan war. She wondered how many of the women were widowed and children orphaned because of it.

  After a discreet knock, Rhoda returned with a tray holding a bowl of steaming food and a cup. She placed the tray on a table. “Mister Alec asked me to tell ye to make yerself comfortable. I’ll leave ye to rest.”

  Before Paige could formulate a sentence, the maid hurried out, closing the door behind her.

  “Of all the things,” Paige murmured, sniffing the food. It smelled delicious. How had they not realized the mistake by now?

  Ignoring her growling stomach, she went to the door and opened it slowly. Peering out and not seeing anyone, she tiptoed to the stairwell and went down a couple steps. From her vantage point, she could see the great room.

  Lady McLeod stood facing Alec. “How can ye decide this so suddenly and without taking yer station into consideration? Tis not the way, Son. Think about it. Yer father is right to be furious.”

  “I have made up my mind,” Alec replied, his face as hard as stone. “I am to be laird…”

  “And that is why a suitable wife should be found. Not a village girl who we barely know anything about. I am sure she is pleasant, and admittedly quite lovely, but, Son, ye cannot marry her.”

  Paige turned and hurried back to the room, closing the door softly behind. Were they speaking of her? No. It couldn’t be. Why would Alec McLeod, the son of her laird wish to marry her?

  Chapter Ten

  The evening shadows crossed over the floor of Ian’s chamber. Everything hurt, making it impossible to remain comfortable. The travel to Ross Keep had battered his already fragile body.

  He lifted his gaze.

  Thankfully, the lovely woman pacing back and forth in the room took his mind away from the pain for a moment.

  Ceilidh wrung her hands. “How has it come to this? We come to rescue Elspeth only to be found out by her father. And now her father demands the laird marry her.”

  In truth, he had kept from chuckling at the irony of the situation. Malcolm had just announced no warrior was allowed any kind of emotional entanglement and here he was finding himself in a major one.

  If the lass had been found in Malcolm’s bed, the father had every right to demand marriage. Whether there was any physical involvement or not, the woman had been found not just in the chamber, but upon the bed and half-dressed at that according to the beauty pacing before him.

  “Tis not a dire situation. I am sure all will be well.”

  She stopped pacing and came closer. “How are ye feeling? I should mix more tincture.”

  “In truth, I am not well. However, I do not wish more of that vile liquid.”

  Her pretty face became marred with a frown. “The vile liquid, as ye call it, has kept horrible pain at bay.”

  She started to head to the door and stopped. “Oh dear, what if Elspeth’s father asks about me? If he tells my father…” Ceilidh turned to face him, her face bright red. “Should I remain here until he leaves?”

  Ian hadn’t considered the fact they’d been cloistered in his bedchamber for a few hours. “I am ill and tis known ye and Elspeth brought me here to heal. The man is aware I could not do ye any harm.”

  Her teeth bit into the plump bottom lip. “True. Where is Conor? That boy is never about when he is needed.” She went to the door, opened it and peered out.

  “Why is no one about? I know hundreds of people live here.”

  Despite the pain, he chuckled. “Not that many.”

  “If ye would point me in the direction of the kitchen, I shall go see about getting ye some food and…tincture.”

  He grimaced and motioned with his right hand. “Go to the right and down the second corridor.”

  “If ye wish to sit for a moment, I would like it.” Ian wanted to take the opportunity to ask what he’d been wishing to say.

  Of course, she thought something was wrong and she hurried to his bedside. Immediately, she pulled his tunic up and lifted the bandages. He smiled, liking her being close, her hands on his heated skin.

  “The wound is healing well. I do not see any oozing. Do not allow the healer to put pumice in it.” She replaced the bandage and lowered his shirt.

  Then reaching for his face, she cupped it with both hands, her expression grim. “Ye are a bit warm. I will open the window and allow fresh air in. This room is quite stuffy.”

  Before she could move away, he took her hand. “I remain quite ill, but thanks to ye, I am not going to die.” He met her gaze, wishing to convey what he wasn’t allowed to.

  “Thank ye, Ceilidh.”

  Her eyes widened just a bit. It was gratifying when she didn’t pull her hand away, but instead relaxed just enough to let him know she didn’t find his touch unpleasant.

  “I am glad to see ye recovering. To be honest, we, Elspeth and I, did not have much hope at first.”

  He nodded and reluctantly released her hand. “Neither did I.”

  Clearing her throat, she rushed to the window and made a show of throwing the drapes aside. “Ye have a grand chamber for a warrior. Ye must be held in high esteem.”

  “All of the laird’s personal guards have a chamber like this. There are ten of us.”

  Ceilidh frowned. “He did not seem overly concerned about yer welfare. I must be bold in telling ye this.”

  He wasn’t surprised. Malcolm had changed drastically since his father’s death. Although never quite of an easygoing nature per se, the laird’s eldest son had always been kind and levelheaded. Everything became different upon the day the laird had been slain by a McLeod. The laird’s death had brought more deaths, along with that, vengeful attacks, burning of villages and destruction of families.

  “My laird is a fair man.”

  Ceilidh sniffed with disdain. “I do not trust a man who cares little for his people.”

  Ian wasn’t about to argue or defend the laird. Most of the warriors and guards were growing weary of the incessant battles, the killing and revenge that would never bring about good cause. Nor would so many dying and suffering bring the laird back.

  He’d become so lost in thought that when he looked back from the window, he noticed Ceilidh had left. He let out a breath and considered what he’d do
to ensure to see her again. Once healed, he could call upon her. All he had to do was find out her family name and where she lived. From the hours she came and went from the healing room, it was obvious she didn’t live far from Elspeth’s family.

  “Idiot,” Ian said out loud when the remainder of his left arm pained him. How stupid was he to think a woman would wish to spend time with him? The only reason Ceilidh visited was because of her caring nature. He was an injured man to her and nothing else.

  Frustrated, he attempted to slide up and get comfortable. Somehow, he turned sideways and fell to the floor. He let out a yowl at the searing pain that had him almost blacking out.

  Only a few moments later, Ceilidh came through the door and her footsteps faltered.

  “Oh my goodness.” She hurried to put a tray on a table and then her face appeared over his. “What happened?”

  “In an attempt to get comfortable, I ended up quite the opposite,” Ian gritted the words out, feeling foolish. He started to try to sit up, but she kept him from it, her hands pushing down on his shoulders.

  “Why didn’t ye call for help?”

  He let out a breath in attempt to keep from moaning. “I was too busy trying not to lose consciousness.”

  “It is best for ye to remain here for a bit.” She reached to the bed and gathered a small blanket that she rolled and placed under Ian’s head.

  She then inspected the amputated left arm to ensure the stitches had not loosened. Thankfully, he’d not fallen on it, but on the opposite side. Seeming satisfied, she then went to the tray. “Ye will need tincture to keep the pain at bay.”

  Ian grimaced. It was vile, but it would make him feel better once its effects took over. “Can I have bread to eat after? Maybe a large tankard of ale?”

  When Ceilidh smiled at him over her shoulder, Ian realized he would gladly drink a loch full of the vile liquid to see her smile.

  Chapter Eleven

 

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