Highland Seer (20 page)

They proceeded companionably this way until Ellie turned in toward the village. The lowering sun told her they should head back to the keep. She realized Donal wasn’t with her and looked over her shoulder to see him pause, staring off across the snowy glen toward the woods. Before she could ask what had caught his attention, the ground dropped out from under her. She fell, twisting her ankle as her foot found the bottom of a hole, pitching her forward. She landed on her hands and knees, barely saving herself from burying her face in the snow. Donal knelt beside her in an instant, pulling her to her feet, then picking her up when she gasped at the pain from her ankle.

“What did ye do, lass?” One arm supported her while he ran his free hand down her legs. “Did ye break anythin’?”

As he took a step toward the village, she warned him, “Nay, but watch where ye go. I stepped in a hole before I fell.”

Donal nodded, pulling her closer to his chest as she wrapped her arms around his neck. This close, his scent filled her nose and made her almost glad for her tumble.

“Let’s see if Nan is still in the village,” he suggested. “She’ll be able to tell how badly ye are hurt.”

Ellie straightened her ankle, then turned her foot this way and that. “’Tis no’ too bad.” If she ignored the twinges when she moved it.

“I’d rather let Nan be the judge, if ye dinna mind. Though if ye can move it, likely ye didna break it.”

Nay, Ellie didn’t mind, as long as Donal continued to hold her close.

They found Nan still with Annie and her nervous husband. “Let me see it,” she demanded after Donal carried Ellie into their home and placed her gently on a bench. Ellie winced as Nan prodded and manipulated her foot and ankle, but it hurt less than it had right after she fell.

“Ye just strained it,” Nan pronounced after a moment. “Let’s see if ye can walk on it. Stand up.”

Donal took Ellie’s elbow and helped her up. She kept her weight on her good leg and gingerly placed her other foot on the ground. “It doesn’t hurt that much...ouch,” she yelped as she got her balance and her weight evenly on both feet. She immediately picked up the injured foot and Donal lowered her back onto the seat.

“Verra well, Ellie,” Nan told her. “Ye’ll stay off of it for the rest of today and tonight. I’ll check on ye in the mornin’ and we’ll see how ye fare then.” She shifted her stern gaze to Donal, who lifted an eyebrow, waiting for her orders. “Ye’ll carry the laird back to her chamber where ye’ll deposit her in her bed, from which she willna stray”—she glared at Ellie before shifting her attention back to Donal—“until I arrive in the mornin’ to see her. Can ye tend to her?”

Ellie could have sworn Donal was fighting a grin, but if he was, he managed not to let it show.

“Of course, healer. It will be as ye wish.”

Nan shooed them out with a wave. “Go on then. Put her to bed.”

Ellie snorted as Donal’s face colored. Aye, she knew what he was thinking, because she was thinking the same.

****

Donal relished carrying Ellie up the hill into the keep. She made a warm and lively armful, assuring him along the way that she would be fine and waving off her clansmen when they entered the walls of keep. “I’m fine. I just fell in the snow. Donal’s taking care of me. Nay, he doesna need any help. Nan will come to me later.” Her chatter kept him amused, gratified that it served to keep others at bay and Ellie in his arms. Once they’d run the gamut of the great hall and were ascending the stairs, Ellie asked, “What were ye looking at, there in the woods, when I fell?”

Donal shook his head. “I thought I saw something move. Something man-sized. But it might have been a deer, or one of yer wayward coos.”

“Or a MacDuff?”

“’Tis possible. Are ye no’ glad of my escort now?”

“Damn. I hate it when ye’re right.”

Donal smirked. “Ye’d best point the way. I dinna ken where to take ye.”

“I think I can walk from here if ye’ll put me down.”

“That’s no’ a good idea, lass.”

“Let me be the judge of that. Put me down.”

Donal complied. But as soon as Ellie’s foot took her weight, she yelped and picked it up again. Donal scooped her up. “Daft woman.”

“That way.” Ellie indicated with a tip of her head and a sigh. In moments, they were at her chamber. Donal shifted her in his arms to free up the hand he needed to open the heavy oaken door. Ellie snuggled tighter against his throat as he did it, as if fearing he would drop her on her sore foot. Then they were inside. “Through here,” Ellie told him, guiding him through her sitting room. He barely had time to note anything about the room except its size and brightness. Glazed windows lined one wall, and the furnishings seemed adequate. A fireplace dominated another wall, the hearth lit by a small but cheery blaze against the cold.

Then suddenly they were in her bedchamber. Donal barely noted the fire in the hearth for the massive canopied four-poster. Drapes that could be drawn against the cold—or for more privacy—were tied back at each post. Images of Ellie sleeping there swamped him. Naked, her hair spread on the pillows like a raven’s black wing. His pulse kicked up as blood rushed to his groin. If only he could picture himself there with her. But nay, he dared not do that. Besides, right now, she needed his care.

Donal stopped at the side of her bed, gently lowered her onto it then stepped back, hoping its height hid his arousal. “Do ye need any help with yer boots?”

“Aye. Please?”

“Lie back.”

She leaned against a pillow. Donal had to look away or his need for her would swamp him again. Instead, he bent to do as she’d asked, pushing the hem of her skirt above her ankles. When she didn’t protest, he removed the boot from her good foot, then caught her gaze. “Are ye ready? This may hurt. I’m sorry for that.”

“Aye. Go ahead.”

He wrapped his fingers around her shin to hold her ankle still and tugged as gently as he could with his other hand, working the boot over her ankle, pulling her stocking off with it. She grimaced as he pulled, sighed when he was done. Aye, it looked swollen, though not too badly. Her foot, with its high arch, showed no signs of injury. He longed to run his fingers over it, to soothe her pain with that simple pleasure. Instead, he dropped the boot to the floor.

“How is it?” She lifted up onto her elbows. Her dress strained over her breasts, causing Donal’s cock to strain at his breeches.

“No’ too bad,” he told her while he got two extra pillows from the other side of the bed and set them by her injured ankle.

“What..?”

He stood at the foot of her bed where his lower half would be well hidden and indicated the pillows. “I’m going to lift yer leg up onto them,” Donal told her before she could finish her question. “It will help the swelling go down.”

At her nod, he cupped her heel and lifted, pulling the pillows underneath. “Is that better?”

Ellie sighed. “Aye.”

But he didn’t let go. Instead, he slipped both hands along her foot, using his thumbs to trace her arch, then rubbed gently from toes to heel. Ellie groaned.

“Am I hurting ye?”

Her head rocked from side to side. “Nay. Whatever ye’re doin’, keep doin’ it.”

“Should I call a maid to care for ye until Nan arrives?”

“Nay!”

Donal quirked his lips and returned to his ministrations. Ellie’s groans of pleasure were arousing him to the point of pain. As soon as he moved from the end of the bed, there’d be no hiding that from her. But for now, he continued his soothing assault, enjoying the silky slip of her skin under his fingertips as much as she seemed to enjoy his touch. He ran his fingers lightly over her injured ankle, careful not to hurt her further. Seemingly of their own accord, his hands continued upward. Her skirt had shifted up her legs, showing him the delectable curve of her calf. He nudged her hem higher, surprised when she didn’t object, but she seemed lost in the soothing spell he wove, unaware that he no longer tended just to her injury. He longed to see more, to touch more, to awaken the passion that Ellie’s groans of pleasure teased him with, but at her knee, he forced himself to return to stroking her ankle and foot.

In moments, she drifted off to sleep. Donal continued what he was doing for a minute longer, then stepped back. “Sleep well, lass. I’d best leave ye now, before ye tempt me to explore the rest of ye.”

Chapter 13

Several hours later, Ellie got up and turned down her bed, but instead of getting back into it, she ignored the healer’s orders and moved to her chair, resting her chin on her hand and leaning into the chair’s armrest to stare into the fire. While her ankle felt better, her very bones weighed her down. She could not will herself back to sleep. Donal, and the session with Fergus earlier in the day, still preyed on her mind.

In caring for her after she fell, Donal had revealed a side of himself that she suspected he rarely showed to anyone. But he’d shared it with her. He’d been gentle and soothing. She treasured the care he’d given her. She was less pleased with how he had restrained himself, even though she’d offered no objection when his hands had wandered above her injured ankle to stroke her calf and push her skirt to her knee. For a moment, she thought he might give in to his need for her if she refrained from encouraging him, simply letting him do what he willed. But nay. She grumbled to herself, not without irony, that his sense of duty and honor had saved her yet again, even as she fell asleep.

Duty and honor seemed to be the way the Lathans lived. They were the answer to her prayers, at least for the near term. They’d shown her and her clan more consideration than she could have dreamed possible from strangers. With Donal training their lads, Bram and the others reinforcing their defenses, and with their battle-lore providing them with strategies to get the whisky to market and avoid the MacDuffs, they might get through the coming winter intact.

Fergus had stood up well to the pressure of all those Lathan eyes on him. His answers to their questions had been clear and sharp. Thank goodness, he was truly on the mend. Thinking of Fergus brought to mind the seed he had planted with Donal. Would Donal consider the idea of becoming her consort? All of the discussion today solved short-term problems. Long-term, she needed a husband with a strong arm and good battle sense, one who could attract a permanent fighting force to hold their territory and protect the clan. A husband like Donal.

So far he’d been, for the most part, immune to her charms, staying here reluctantly when the situation proved too dire to leave MacKyrie defenseless. He was attracted to her, aye, but he fought that attraction, not letting it go too far. He made no secret of the fact that he did not intend to stay a moment longer than necessary. Though she knew Jamie expected Donal to remain for months to uphold the treaty, she feared all too soon after Jamie returned with help from the other treaty clans, Donal would find a way to go. He would convince himself that Bram or someone from one of the treaty clans was the man in her dreams. He would let his loyalty to another clan and his belief that he was unworthy of her pull them apart. Given the distance back to the Lathan stronghold, there would be no casual reason for him to return. He would be gone forever, out of her life and her clan’s.

But what if he was right? If she’d yet to meet the hero of her dreams?

Her stomach clenched at the thought. Aye, Donal could be gruff and his usual foreboding expression did not invite anyone to approach him. But his touch, his kiss...they had set her afire in a way she had never experienced, even during her brief marriage. She was sure she, too, had answered a need in him. Though he had recovered his fierce control and drawn back those few times when he’d given in to his need for her, when he touched her she had sensed the burdens he carried slipped away, if only for a moment. Still he refused to open up to her. Or did he? The sensation of his arms around her, the heat of his body warming her as they stood outside the door to the keep last night, his fingers tangled in her hair—suddenly she remembered it so vividly, as if Donal held her still. Were there chinks in his armor she had yet to find?

To convince him to stay with her, she must woo him. But how? She drummed her fingertips on the arm of the chair. She’d tried to entice him. Tonight, she’d tried letting him take the lead. Neither had broken through his iron control. She must do more. Her glance strayed from the flames dancing in the hearth to the bed with its turned-down covers, its linen sheets soft and inviting. Could she?

She had been married, her innocence long gone and no longer a concern. But she’d let Donal treat her as though it still mattered. She’s given in too easily. She must make him see her as a woman. Not as a lass, and certainly not as laird. She must seduce him. For the good of the clan, aye, but for his sake and hers as well. Could she do it? If she did, would that win the battle-hardened warrior to her? Tear away the armor he’d built up around himself? If indeed she’d already made a real chink in his armor, it was possible. Aye, he wanted her kiss as much as she wanted his. And if he truly wanted more, then he must allow her to reach the man inside the wall he’d built around himself.

She risked much, she knew. The clan observed and discussed everything its laird did. If she seduced Donal but failed to win him, it could cost her everything, the lairdship, her home, her people.

Ellie slapped her palms onto the armrests of her chair and pushed herself to her feet. Her ankle no longer pained her. But her heart still did.

If she won him, aye, if she won him, if he stood beside her as her consort and the strong arm of the clan, that would change everything.

She undressed and turned to the bed with a deep breath, trying to calm herself so she could sleep. She needed a Seeing this night, a dream to show her what their future would be. Despite her feelings for Donal, it would not do for her to seduce the wrong man.

****

Donal paced the battlements, looking out over the countryside. Light from the moon, full last night, glinted off of patches of snow as it had for the last two nights. It hadn’t melted as quickly as he’d hoped. But the MacDuffs had not returned after Ellie ordered them out which meant they must have made it over the pass before the last storm blew through. For Ellie’s sake, he was glad to be rid of them. He also had reasons of his own, starting with the fact that he didn’t trust the MacDuff. His men spent a lot of time clustered together, talking in low tones. Had they been trying to make inroads with Ellie’s people? Most of her folk avoided them, except when they had to give a polite greeting, or serve them food or drink. The rest of the time, the MacDuffs were left much on their own.