Every Heart Has Its Day (6 page)

Broderick whispered, “Dinna let these fools trouble ye, Hold yer head high.”

She sighed in relief when they reached the less populated gardens, but with each step beyond, her shoulders tensed. “Where be ye taking me?”

“Just a bit farther, to the copse.”

She dug in her heels. “Someone will see us enter the trees. Would ye further tarnish my reputation?”

He turned to face her. “The high hedges of the garden blind many an eye, milady, and they do not provide a sturdy target. At the edge of the forest we shall remain in view of all who pass as well as those who peer from the windows.”

“My apologies, sir.”

“Of course, that leaves ye with another problem.”

She raised a brow.

“All shall ken how well ye can protect yerself, which may intimidate yer suitors.”

“Aye, the endless line of men seeking my hand may dwindle to naught.” She clapped her hands. “Alas, it already has.”

“Most of these lads be fools, milady.” He led her to the forest’s edge. “I have ordered these daggers made for ye. They be lighter, so ye must adjust your aim. Ye must also learn how to draw them from under yer skirts.”

Her first attempt sliced her kirtle.

“Think aboot what ye must do, Kasey, lest ye return to the castle in tatters!”

“At least my gown will match my repute.”

She had paid little mind to her garments before. Each day, she simply donned the slip and gown Evonne laid out for her, then knotted her plaid about her shoulders.

To remove and throw the dirk, she needed to hold the shawl aside and thrust her leg past her skirts. She leaned down, drew, straightened and threw. Success.

Almost. She did not cut her skirt, but she missed her target by a good distance.

“Dinna get discouraged. I have seen warriors throw worse. Mayhap ye should practice removing the dagger and not worry about throwing yet. Keep yer eye on the tree. Feel what ye do rather than watch.”

The lessons continued throughout the morning hours. By the time of the nooning meal, she could consistently unsheathe the dagger without cutting her garments. The lighter daggers embedded deeply in the tree.

Broderick glowed with pride. “Tell none of this gift. Yer laird will claim the weapons too dangerous and too valuable for yer possession.”

She wondered how Broderick knew her laird so well.

“Never show these weapons to frighten an enemy. If ye unsheathe them, ye must be willing to kill. Settle not for inflicting injury. Blood, especially his own, enrages an opponent. Anger begets strength, and ye will surely lose.”

Pointing to his own chest and her back, Broderick showed her the body’s most vulnerable spots. “If an enemy has ye in his clutches, grab his hair, and jerk his head back to expose his neck. Slit his throat from under his ear as far and deep as ye can. It be messy, for his blood will spurt.”

“I canna inflict a mortal wound.”

“Milady, ye can heal no one from yer grave.” He waited for her gaze to meet his. “These lessons be for survival, not a fit of anger. Yer protection be the duty of yer father or future husband. Since ye canna yet count on either, I wish ye to have the means to defend yerself.”

She nodded.

“If ye must kill or be killed, choose life. Anyone who threatens a lady as wondrous as ye deserves not to live.”

“I know not what to say.”

“A simple ‘thank ye’ will suffice.” He looked away. “I have informed Evonne I shall be escorting ye home on the morrow.”

“My presence disgraces the king.” She could not blame him.

“Ye misunderstand, Kasey. He sends ye home, but not as punishment. Many ladies seek a union with Hunter Mackintosh, and some may not settle for mere words to express their distress.”

“I did naught but meet my obligations.”

“What ye see as duty, others see as scandal. Most fathers would demand Hunter wed ye.”

Her heart skipped a beat. If only her laird would issue such a command. But he would not. Mayhap it was for the best. She cared too much for Hunter to plague him with an unwanted marriage.

“The king fears for yer well-being, milady, as do I.”

She glared at him. “Why do ye treat me like a child? Nay! Even worse, ye treat me like a mouse. Be I naught but a pest that requires removal before I infest?”

“Yer anger, though merited, changes naught. I shall see ye at the stable at first light.”

As he walked away, sorrow replaced her anger. She used to be quiet and calm. How could a few days have changed her so?

The answer lay in Hunter’s kiss. Chastised once too often for showing her emotions, she had denied their existence. The want, the need, evoked by his lips had opened the dam.

Her imminent return home left her with no choice. She must once again hide within.

A short time later, Kasey left the garden. Randall blocked the path leading to the rear of the castle. She changed course.

Several steps later she let out her breath and cursed her trembling hands. Foolish as he may be, Randall would not accost her in plain view.

A bruising grip spun her around.

“Our laird will learn of all that has happened.”

She stood as strong as an oak in a tempest.

“Rest assured, upon my return we shall wed, then ye will pay for every injustice forced upon me.”

“Unhand her!” bellowed the king. “Ye alone be responsible for yer fate, Randall, and I shall keep ye in my custody until ye accept thus. If it takes the rest of yer life, so be it!”

Kasey stumbled as Randall shoved her away. She caught herself before she fell and curtsied to the king. Randall trained his glare on her, even as he bowed and retreated toward his quarters.

“I expect Broderick has told ye of yer departure.”

She nodded.

“I have placed ye under my protection. Despite Randall’s threats, ken I will do all I can to keep ye safe.”

With her keep so far away, she wondered how much he could do. She thanked him for his kindness, curtsied, and continued on her way.

She had almost reached the door when she found her path blocked again. Hunter. She resisted the desperate urge to throw her arms around his neck and weep. Instead, she swallowed and hoped her voice would not reveal her turmoil. “Ye look well, Mackintosh.”

“A gifted healer attended me, milady.”

Chills coursed down her spine as she stared into the depths of his amber eyes. Crimson streaks and gray clouds nipped at his heels. Danger awaited his every move.

His voice pulled her attention from the vision.

“Did ye hear me, milady?”

His fierce look startled her. And the way he stood, feet braced and arms akimbo, made him look like a human fortress.

Unable to endure his gaze, she looked down and withdrew the hand she rested on his forearm. When had she put it there? Had her touch caused his anger?

“Be there a reason yer mind so often wanders?”

Insulted by his tone, she strode around him. Without turning, she said, “Watch yer back, Mackintosh.”

His footsteps drew nearer, but she refused to run.

He halted directly before her. “I wish ye well, and ye repay me with a threat?”

“Ye be a fool! A mouse such as I could not harm a mountain like ye. Yer future holds a hard and dangerous path. Many dislike, even fear, ye. Dinna turn yer back, for they will slice ye down.”

She gained two steps before Hunter whirled her about, pulled her against his chest, and enfolded her in his arms. She should not allow such familiarity, but could not deny the comfort of his touch.

Calloused fingers nudged up her chin.

Her gaze flew to his. She needed to imprint his golden eyes into her memory.

He leaned down, but stopped a hair’s breadth away. Wishing he would kiss her, she moistened her lips.

The back of his hand caressed her cheek. His gaze never left hers.

Unwilling to wait any longer, she rose onto her toes and brushed her lips across his.

His tongue slid out. She invited him in. His chest pounded beneath her fingers. Her knees weakened. She moved her hands to his shoulders and held fast.

She gulped in air when he pulled back to nibble a path along her jaw to her ear and back again. Her heart quickened as he pulled her tighter and deepened the kiss anew.

Too soon he grunted and pulled away. “Ye have not seen the last of me, milady. Hear my vow. One day soon I shall bring ye to my side.”

As she unwound her hands from his neck, her heart soared. Had he known, in his fevered state, whose lips he kissed?

It could not be. They never met before Randall attacked. Honor compelled his claim.

But what of Randall’s claims that Hunter had followed her to the falls? Dare she believe?

“May ye live so long, Mackintosh.”

Chapter Six

“If ye punch that pillow one more time, I will hold it over yer head, Connor.”

“Go to sleep, Gavin. Dawn comes too soon.”

Gavin rolled over, turning his back to his brother. “She leaves on the morrow.”

“Heaven knows what her future holds. I wish the king would keep her here.”

Gavin bolted up. “’Tis a brilliant idea! Surely the king could use another maid.”

“She will serve no one!”

“It be a small price.”

Connor stared at Gavin’s form, unable to make out his features in the darkened chamber. “She has touched yer heart, too?”

His breath quickened with each moment Gavin did not answer. He gritted his teeth. “Answer me, brother.”

Gavin sighed. “How could I let a Cameron come to mean so much?”

He reached over and grabbed Gavin’s nightshirt. “Ye canna have her!”

“Remove yer hand, Connor. Ye need not add another trouble.”

He tightened his hold. “Ye will touch her not.”

“Why not?”

“Kasey will be mine.”

“Be ye mad?” Gavin wrenched from Connor’s grip. “I ken yer feelings toward Lady Cameron.”

Connor rose to tower over his brother. “Yet ye wish to challenge me for her?”

“Yer brains have turned to mush.” Gavin stood nose to chin with his brother and looked up. “I wish to ease Lady Kasey’s adjustment to the Mackintosh way of life by bringing her maid to our keep.”

“Her maid will follow no matter who Kasey marries.”

“My wife’s status willna remain so low.”

“Yer wife?”

“She truly has turned yer brains to mush.” Gavin chuckled. “I refer to Evonne, ye dolt.”

Someone threw a cushion at Connor’s head. “Will ye two kiss and make up so the rest of us can get some sleep?”

Connor found the pillow and heaved it in the direction from which it came.

“Ye missed!” Quiet chuckles accompanied the unidentified voice.

“It be a good thing Randall sleeps in other quarters,” Gavin whispered, “else we would have a brawl on our hands.”

“At least a fight would put my thoughts to rest.” He faced the hardest battle of his life. To prove his worth, he must rein in the thoughts of his heart’s desire. Yet he would never forget her.

What about her tied him into knots? Others called her plain, coarse. In truth, he had bedded much more comely women.

Mayhap her eyes had cast a spell on him. Though always blue, their color revealed her mood. When playful or pensive, they mirrored sapphires. In anger they darkened to a moonlit, snow-covered hill. He had seen his favorite hue, the shining blue-black of a raven’s wing, only twice—after they kissed. Aye, he would forever thirst for the magic of her lips. He had to dip his chin just a bit to sip her nectar. At the cottage, those rosy cushions had looked so warm, so inviting, he could not resist tasting her then any more than he could this day.

Her passionate response excited him beyond measure. Her thundering heart matched his beat for beat. The uncertain strokes of her tongue met his every demand. The hardened tips of her full breasts teased his chest. Her full hips cradled his arousal as securely as a lover’s hand.

She threatened his control more than any woman ever had. He should have heeded his body’s demand.

Still, more than lust defined her appeal. When doubts flooded his mind, her whispered hopes dammed them. Concern gleamed from her eyes, yet she wasted no time cooing or crying. She issued orders with a commander’s authority as well as a lady’s modesty.

She had spirit, too. The king’s earlier intervention most likely saved both Connor and Randall from a longer sentence. But he doubted Kasey needed help. She did not cower or cry. She returned Randall’s glare and then some.

She had called herself a mouse. Hah! Many had fawned in his presence, but he doubted Kasey ever would. His size, his intentional rudeness had made her stand straighter and jut out her wee, perfect chin.

Her courage, her gentle strength warmed the darkest niches of his heart. A laird’s wife required these qualities, and he would not settle for less.

Many lairds had paraded their daughters before him. Those lasses may have looked like roses, but they were dandelions gone to seed. One misspoken word would destroy their fragile existence.

But not Kasey. She was velvet-covered iron. Not since his mother’s death had he met such a woman.

His chest tightened. More than ten summers had passed since his mother died, and still he grieved.

He was not alone in his sorrow. The entire clan remained cloaked in gray. Though no one could replace his mother, Kasey could ease the loss.

Her Cameron blood would make proving her worth much more difficult, but she would rise to the challenge. His clansmen would not be able to resist her any more than he could.

If only she did not have the frustrating habit of daydreaming during conversations. It had taken him years to find the courage to voice his devotion. From the faraway look in her eyes, she had not heard him.

He yawned. If that was her only quirk, he could learn to live with it.

Watch yer back, Mackintosh. Her forewarning echoed through his mind. She did not seem prone to dramatics. Quite the opposite.

He closed his eyes. Her tone held certainty, not malice. That could mean but one thing—she had second sight.

Aye, he would be careful. Nothing would keep them apart a moment longer than necessary.

****

A gentle hand shook Kasey’s shoulder. She rolled away. Fatigue dragged at her limbs, and her dream refused to release its hold.

The meager candlelight at the end of the cave did not seem worth the effort. Echoes of unspoken promises beckoned her forward. The sun waited to enfold her in its glory.

A hand grabbed her arm. She swatted at it. “Milady?”

Wearier than before she slept, Kasey yawned as the last vestiges of her dream faded.

“Broderick said we leave at first light.”

New images halted her attempt to rise. Her mother’s beautiful face first bathed in red, then shrouded in black. Laird Cameron’s eyes slitted in anger, then glazed in madness. Evonne’s countenance cloaked in pain, then faded to naught. Yet behind them, the light still glowed.

She rubbed her eyes and wondered if she teetered on the brink of madness.

More likely concern over her forthcoming consequences tainted her dreams. The sooner she reached home, the sooner she would learn her fate.

She sat up after Evonne placed a basin of water on the chest next to her pallet. Her maid looked as gray as the dawn sky.

“We have had better visitations.” Kasey removed her nightdress.

“Och, milady, ye be wrong.”

Kasey raised a brow before she began her morning ablutions.

“I had but a few moments with Gavin, but my life will never be the same. He be an enchanting man.” Evonne’s eyes sparkled.

“He be what?” Kasey dried her body. She pulled her gown over her head to hide her smile. “I thought him rude.”

“Nay, milady. He has better manners than most.” Her maid retrieved the comb and used it to point to the seat by window. “He has quite a wit, too.”

Kasey sat and pulled her hair over her collar. “Hunter be more pleasing to the eye.”

“Mayhap to ye.”

“Gavin’s coloring.” Kasey restrained a snicker as she toyed with her friend. “It be quite bland.”

“I happen to like chestnut brown, and I find it comforting that his eyes and hair share the shade.”

Kasey winced as her maid rent a knot. “Hunter stands taller.”

“Gavin’s size be perfect. I prefer not to suffer a sore neck each time I look at his face.”

“He be not as broad as Hunter.” Kasey cringed when her hair tore.

“Gavin be stronger than he looks, yet he can be so gentle.”

Evonne tore out another tangle.

“Gentler than ye?” She snatched the comb from her maid’s hand. “I care to keep some hair on my head.”

“It be the waves, milady. Ye should keep yer hair plaited whilst ye sleep.” Evonne hummed her way across the chamber.

“The braid be so bulky I wake with an aching head.” Kasey plaited her hair as her maid packed their few remaining items. “How can ye be so happy this morn?”

“It be a lovely day.”

“Lovely? Ye might never agin see Gavin.” And I may never see Hunter.

Evonne waved her hand, then placed their dorlachs outside the chamber door. “A healer should have more faith.”

“Faith in what?”

“In love.” Evonne shrugged. “Ye must have noticed the way Hunter looked at ye. The light in his eyes outshone a hundred candles.”

Kasey wished it were true, but she feared believing. Naught rent a heart quicker than a shattered dream. “Gratitude fades as quickly as dew on a warm spring day.”

“Gratitude?” Evonne snorted. “I thought ye wiser.”

“It seems I be wiser than ye.”

“Why?”

“Need I remind ye these men be our sworn enemies?”

“Love kens no plaid. Gavin assured me that he and Hunter will come for us as soon as they be able.”

“Naught less than a war would make our laird release us.”

“Hunter and Gavin will find a bloodless way.”

“Did he kiss ye?”

Her maid nodded.

“I see.”

“What do ye see?”

“Mackintosh kisses have a way of muddling the mind.”

“Ye speak the truth.” Evonne laughed as she tied her arisaide and handed Kasey hers. “But his kisses dinna affect my hearing. His tone left no room for doubt.”

When Evonne decided a matter, naught dissuaded her. In two long years they would learn the truth.

****

As he leaned on the axe handle, Connor rubbed his beaded brow on his shoulder. He turned toward the din of the crowd gathered below by the stables. The moment Kasey came into view, the rabble’s light-hearted laughter turned to jeers.

“I dinna ken the royal guard also served as woodsmen.”

He silenced Gavin with his hand and scanned the throng for Randall. Since the Cameron had been assigned to different quarters, Connor knew not his whereabouts this morn. He would have to count on Broderick to keep the lady safe.

“Get to work, Mackintosh.”

He ignored the commander and kept his gaze trained on the stable.

Kasey held her head high, her back straight, her hands clasped afore her waist. Her blank expression lifted into a smile as she neared Ciara MacPherson. She halted and looked down at her gown. What had the MacPherson hellcat done now?

The stable boy led a white mare to Kasey’s side and held out the reins. She shook her head.

Broderick boosted her into the leather and wood saddle.

“What in blazes?”

Gavin’s question drew Connor’s ear but not his gaze. “The Camerons prepare to leave.”

“The lady rides a Mackintosh mount.”

“Aye, it suits her.”

“Annie will tan yer hide when she learns ye have given a Cameron her favorite horse.”

Connor grinned. “Her second favorite. She will have to vent her wrath to another. I have naught to do with this.”

Caedmon Mackintosh appeared at the rise of the hill. “Commander, a word with my sons afore my departure?”

“Why not? They have done little thus far.”

The man’s gibe twisted Connor’s pride. Holding his side, he bowed halfway to his father.

“She sits the horse well,” Caedmon said.

“Ye be responsible?”

“I may be getting up in years, Connor, but I be not dotty. I expect ye will see the mount returned.” He clapped his son’s right shoulder. “Until then, be sure to show all the Mackintosh mettle.”

As Kasey and her escort cantered from view, Connor’s stomach tightened. “Our day will come.”

****

After she cleared the walls of Inverness, Kasey slapped her mount into a full gallop. She wished she could leave her memories behind with the upturned clumps of sod, but they kept pace.

Tears trickled down her face faster than the wind could dry them. She did not regret healing Hunter, but she rued her weakness to his charms. Never again would she meet a man like him. She must savor the memories.

Without doubt, his touch had warmed her body, but she felt more than lust. He had spoken to her as an equal, and he had attended her words. He had protected her from Randall without thought to his own well-being. He had made her laugh. But most importantly, he had made her feel as if she held the key to his heart. His voice had held so much conviction when he swore to come back for her, how could she not believe him?

Mackintosh or not, she would keep the hope that somehow, someday, he would keep his word.

The rhythm of hooves soothed her frazzled nerves. This mare had the qualities of a truly magnificent steed. Grace. Beauty. Obedience. She doubted she would ever ride her again and vowed to enjoy the privilege.