Claimed By The Highlander (The Highlands Warring Clan Mactaggarts Book 1)

by Anne Morrison

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  Reade rose from the bed early, leaving Elizabeth still asleep as he dressed and made his way to his brother's rooms. As he had guessed, Aidan was already up, eating a piece of bread and cheese absently as he looked over a scrap of parchment with a rough map drawn on it.

  “Good morning, Reade. Did you pass the night well with your bride-to-be?”

  Reade scowled.

  “Quit that kind of talk, Aidan. I have spent months in the South spying for you, and I am not interested in listening to any foolishness about Elizabeth.”

  “Oh, so it's Elizabeth,” Aidan said with a slight smile. “All right. Tell me what you found in the South first, and then we'll talk about Elizabeth.”

  That hardly sounded promising, but Reade shrugged, giving his brother the information he had learned in his travels. As he spoke, he could almost see his brother tallying it all together in his mind, creating a picture from the separate points of information that Reade gave him. Aidan looked unhappy but also unsurprised, and at the end of Reade's report, he shook his head and sighed.

  “So, as we guessed. The South isn't going to stay quiet any more than we are going to let them politely put a boot at our throats.”

  “I hate to say it, but this peace won't last. Can't last, if everything I heard is right. None of the Southern lords are disarming or sending their troops off to harass the French or the Spanish. No one thinks that this peace is going to last much more than a year, if that.”

  “Enough for us to get our feet underneath us and to make sure that we have the supplies to march again, but not much more.”

  Reade didn't envy his brother in that moment. His own path was clear: fight for his country, fight for his clan, fight for his family, and at the end of the day, that was all. Aidan was the one who determined when they fought and where and whether it was worth it, and the weight of that was something Aidan carried with him wherever he went. Of course, his sympathy dipped down when Aidan changed the subject to Elizabeth.

  “Sussex is planning something, and that man's been after Scottish soil for years now. We've never marched against him, but the MacKinnons have, and they say that we should rather set our crofts on fire than have him as a lord. And you have brought his niece here.”

  “The girl's uncle wants to marry her. You cannot think that that's the act of a sane man?”

  “Reade, I don't. But she's a foreigner, and she's valuable. He wants her for a bride, and we have no idea why.”

  “Isn't it enough that it's wrong?”

  “If a thing being wrong were enough to move the world against it, the English would stay where Heaven put them, wouldn't they? I know you're not so woolly-headed as all this. What are you thinking?”

  Reade hesitated, but in the end, this was nothing he could fairly hide from his brother, who had the responsibility of all of Clan MacTaggart on his shoulders.

  “So, the Earl of Sussex is her father's brother. On her mother's side is Devon Montgomery, her cousin.”

  He could see the realization sweep across Aidan's face, but all his brother did was shake his head.

  “Well, you've certainly brought a prickly tangle to Doone, and no mistake about it, little brother.”

  Reade prickled at hearing Elizabeth described so callously. Aidan wasn't wrong, but there was so much more to Elizabeth than the connections that pulled her in all directions, than the pawn her uncle had made of her.

  “She's a poor lost girl stuck in the middle of something she never asked for. For Heaven's sake, Aidan, her family's less than a year dead.”

  Aidan raised his hands placatingly.

  “I'm not proposing we abandon her on the mountain. Calm down. But you also must know that I'm not handing her over to Devon Montgomery, not when Longshanks is going to come for Scotland again probably before the snow flies, and not when Montgomery still holds Leister so close by.”

  With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Reade knew that his brother was right. His first instinct had been to get Elizabeth to safety, and to Reade, safety meant Doone Castle and his clan. Had he also known that once she was on MacTaggart lands, that Aidan might choose to keep her there? The previous few days had been such a tangled mess of fever and flight that he couldn't say for sure.

  Tell yourself the truth. You didn't want to give her up to the likes of Devon Montgomery any more than you wanted to return her to Sussex.

  Aidan clapped him on the shoulder, pulling him away from his dark thoughts.

  “Be happy, little brother. You are home, and right glad we are to have you here. Elizabeth is under my protection, and even if she cannot go to Leister at this moment, I've no intention of giving her up to Sussex either. You're safe. You're home.”

  Reade wondered, however, as he left Aidan's room.

  He loved his brother very well. All the clan did. However, it was a fact well-known that Aidan ran cold sometimes, with a streak of ruthlessness that came from someplace far icier than Scotland. Reade knew in his heart that Aidan was for the clan, always for the clan, and if Elizabeth got in his way, or even worse, if she could be used, he was afraid of what that might mean.

  Aidan might be for Clan MacTaggart... and that means that I have to be for Elizabeth, because no one else will be.

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  chapter 32

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  When Elizabeth awoke, Reade was nowhere to be found, and it was all she could do not to pull the covers up over her head and go back to sleep. She wasn't tired, for a miracle, but after the events of the past day, all she wanted to do was to hide from the world.

  I'm an enemy on foreign soil. I wonder if I'm allowed to leave the room at all.

  The thought sent an unexpected trill of rage through her, bringing her out of bed and to the washstand in the corner. It was an ancient thing, with a small mirror of polished bronze, but there was icy water in the pitcher, so she could wash herself. If Aidan and Reade thought that she was going to be a biddable little thing that stayed where they put her, they were going to find out how very wrong they were.

  Despite her dire situation, Elizabeth couldn't help smiling just a little. She had come a long way from the ghost that haunted Blaken Keep in Ayr.

  Her travel clothes were terrible, so she put on the blue dress the kind older woman Mairi had given her. It was faded after years of washing and wear, but it was wool and of a good quality. Elizabeth could see where bands of embroidery had been picked off the hem and the sleeves to be put away for later. For some reason, that made her fonder of the dress. It had a history, and someone had loved it very well. It made her feel a little warmer as she ventured out into the cold corridors of Doone Castle.

  In England, a castle of this size would have had dozens of servants bustling through, keeping it up, making sure that things ran well. Doone, on the other hand, seemed almost deserted, and when she made her way to the dining hall where they had eaten the night before, she was surprised to see that there were people still asleep, on the rushes that covered the floor or on the benches.

  “You're Elizabeth,” came a little voice, and when she looked around, Elizabeth at first saw no one who could have spoken. Then she looked under the table close by and saw a pair of bright hazel eyes and a tangle of blue-black hair.

  “I am Elizabeth,” she said softly. “And who are you?”

  “I'm Maisie, and I'm hungry.”

  The statement was so very pointed that Elizabeth laughed, offering the little girl her hand.

  “All right then, I suppose I am hungry as well. Shall we off to find some kind of food, Maisie?”

  The little girl, who was as slight and slender as a pixie, came out from under the table and took her hand trustingly. Maisie led her to the kitchen, where a large broad woman was already getting a vat of porridge on to boil while roughly working an enormous lot of bread dough on a large board.

  “Porridge is all that's hot,” she said shortly, “But there's bread from last nigh
t if you don't mind stale and some sausage. Take what you want and move on, I haven't time for peepers.”

  “She used to be nicer before her husband died,” Maisie said as they walked away.

  Maisie led her to a small nook in the wall, hidden from view by a tapestry and lit only by an arrow slit window. It was dim and a little chilly, but it was easy to see why a little girl would like it so.

  As they ate, Elizabeth could feel Maisie's hazel gaze on her. She had Aidan's eyes, Elizabeth thought, direct, uncompromising, but patient.

  “All right, Maisie. Obviously, something is on your mind...”

  The little girl grinned, unashamed at being caught out.

  “You're not from Doone Castle. You have new stories, I'll bet.”

  “Why, I do! Shall I tell you one?”

  Maisie was a tiny little girl, not more than five or six, Elizabeth guessed. She awakened that ache inside her, the one that missed her family so terribly. This time, however, the ache was softer, sweeter, and Elizabeth told Maisie one of Benji's favorite stories, about the king sleeping under the hill.

  She didn't realize that they weren't alone until the tapestry hanging in front of the nook twitched and there stood Reade, a slight smile on his face.

  “I've heard that one, too. I liked it well when I was a lad.”

  Elizabeth started to say something, but then Maisie was pelting to Reade, throwing her arms up and laughing in delight as he swept her into a hug.

  “Uncle Reade, Uncle Reade, come listen to Elizabeth tell a story!”

  “That sounds wonderful, pet, but unfortunately, I've business with Elizabeth now. Can you be a good brownie and take your plates back to the kitchen for us?”

  As Maisie ran off with the wood trenchers, Elizabeth found herself watching Reade, studying his motions, the very way he held himself. She had thought him a bastard and a blank-shield soldier at first, and now he was the brother to the lord of the castle. What did it all mean? How did it shift her feelings for him? Why did it not shift them more?

  “I see you've made friends with Maisie. That's not easy; she's as shy as a wood spirit most days.”

  “I think I was new, and she was curious.”

  “It doesn't hurt that you know how to tell a good story. I never knew that about you.”

  She brushed aside the compliment, not sure she wanted to hear anything good from him at the moment.

  “She called you 'uncle'. I didn't see Aidan's wife at the dinner last night, or is there a third brother?”

  Reade paused, and then he came into the nook to sit with her. The chairs were old but comfortable, and the table between them made Elizabeth feel a little safer somehow. When she and Reade touched, it felt as if the entire world shifted, and all that mattered was them. She wasn't sure how she could take such a rush of feeling now.

  “Aidan has claimed Maisie as his own. As far as the clan is concerned, she's his daughter.”

  “That... is a very exacting series of words you just said.”

  “It's complicated, shall we say? Maisie's mother died not long after Maisie was born. She and Aidan weren't married, but she's his. In every way that matters, do you see?”

  “As much as I need to. She's a very sweet little girl. I hope your brother treats her well.”

  “Everyone looks out for her, anyway.”

  There was something odd in Reade's voice, but she let it go. What mattered was that Maisie was looked after, and that was all that mattered.

  She and Reade paused, as if unsure for a moment as to what should be said, what needed to be said, what could not be said if they were to be the least bit civil with each other.

  “What happens now?” Elizabeth asked finally. Her voice sounded hollow in her own ears.

  “You're to stay here at Castle Doone, as my betrothed. We might as well keep up the story that you're a runaway maid I met up with on the road. It's close enough to the truth.”

  “It isn't but go on.”

  “I am trying to protect you, Elizabeth!”

  “Then let me go to Leister Castle!”

  His eyes slid away from her, and for a moment, Elizabeth was vindictively pleased that he looked ashamed of himself.

  “You know that I cannot.”

  “Then I'm here as a bargaining chip or a hostage.”

  “If you must.”

  “It's the truth, Reade, and that has been in short enough supply that I do not wish to lose any more of it. How much of this did you plan?”

  “Elizabeth...”

  “Did you know that you were going to take me here as soon as I told you the truth?”

  “Stop.”

  “Did you know that you were going to keep me from the only safety I could have as soon as I told you where I was running?”

  “I am the only safety you had,” Reade growled. “I was the one looking out for you, not some cousin in the North, surely not whatever family to you Sussex was!”

  Elizabeth opened her mouth to refute him, to snarl at him, but then he was up and around the table, dragging her up and into his arms. One moment, she was looking into his brilliant green eyes, and the next he had dragged her in for a punishing kiss.

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  chapter 33

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  Elizabeth's words struck him like hail against a shield, and Reade couldn't take it any longer. He hadn't intended to kiss her, but it was as if something in him had broken. He needed her, and the situation between them was so devastating, so fraught, that all he could do was take her into his arms and give them what he knew they both wanted, the only place between them that was free of lies and betrayal.

  For a moment, she was stiff in Reade's arms, but then she melted against him, as hungry for this as he was. She tasted so good, so perfect, and Reade felt as if he could devour her whole. In that moment, he didn't give a damn about family or clan, England or Scotland. All that mattered was her, and he could feel the danger in that. What would he do for her? What would he do if she only asked, only promised him this and more?

  “I missed you,” she whispered into his kiss, and the need that went spearing through his body made him groan with pleasure. It wasn't just that she felt so good in his arms. It was also that she needed him as well, that she felt the same overwhelming tide of passion that he did.

  “Elizabeth, please... please...”

  Please what? There was no plea he could make her that she could answer. He had betrayed her and brought her to his home, where she was to be kept. Aidan could talk about guests all he wanted, but they all knew the truth of it.

  All they had was this.

  Reade felt Elizabeth press herself against his body, needy and sweet as honey, and he couldn't help himself. With a single motion, he boosted her up so she was sitting on the edge of the table, her head almost level with his own.

  “Reade!”

  “Shush, love, here, I'll look after you...”

  She believed him. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing him close for another kiss, but his hand was on the hem of her skirt, lifting it up and baring her strong legs to his touch. Her skin was soft and sweet, and as he ran his fingers from calf to knee to thigh, he felt her shiver.

  She is so sensitive here. I must be careful with her...

  There was no telling how far they might have gone if they hadn't heard steps coming from the hallway. Reade froze, and Elizabeth yanked her skirt down, shaking a little.

  Reade turned, ready to cover Elizabeth if anyone swept the tapestry back to reveal them. From the tension in his body and Elizabeth's flushed face and tousled hair, there would be no mistaking what they had done, but he could at least shield her a little.

  The steps got louder, and then they passed entirely, leaving Reade and Elizabeth both to breathe a little easier. After a moment, Elizabeth pulled away, straightening her dress with more fussy gestures than were strictly necessary.

  “So, I'm a prisoner, oh, excuse me, gues
t. What else am I?”

  Reade swallowed hard, because this was something they needed to have out, but at the same time, it felt completely wrong to tell her what lies she was meant to be living.

  “You are a maid running away from Ayr, just as you told me originally. We met on the road, and you came north with me. At some point, we decided... that is...”

  “We fell in love.”

  Why did that word feel like such a condemnation in her lips? Was it because she hated the lies or because there was something in her that sensed his own tide of feelings for her?

  “We did. We are engaged to be married, and we will be as soon as a priest comes through the glen. As such, no one will give it another glance if we are to spend time together, sleeping together. Things are a little easier up here. Life can be hard enough that we will take our pleasure and our joys where we can.”

  To Reade's surprise, Elizabeth smiled a little at that.

  “I think I could agree with that. Nothing's promised.”

  “No.”

  “Reade. You can't think that I will stay here happily as your brother's prisoner. Or hostage.”

  “Things will change.”

  “When you need to hold off the English? When there is finally peace in all the world?”

  “Aidan must act in the best interests of his clan. You know that.”

  “And you?”

  “I'm his brother. This is my family, my world.”

  Elizabeth reached up to touch her lips, still rosy red from the kiss they had shared.

  “And I am nothing to you. Even after what has passed between us... I am nothing.”

  The words were a stone in Reade's throat. The truth was she was too much. She could tempt a saint to sin, but it was more than that. When he looked at her, everything that was important in his life, everything that made him a man, that made him who he was, looked far paler, far less important.

  He couldn't say it, not and be the man he needed to be.

  Elizabeth nodded, and if there was anything grieving in her, anything that hated what he had said, she kept it well-hidden. He wanted nothing more than to reach for her again and to make her understand how he felt, what kind of cliff he was dangling from, but instead, he stayed still. What in the world could he tell her after taking everything away from her?