Highland Thunder (Isle of Mull Series) (17 page)

“I want final say in this matter,” Duncan managed to spit out.

“You forget yourself, Duncan. You may weigh in on the decision, but I
always have final say on any matter.”

Duncan took a deep breath as he prepared to defy his laird. “With every due respect, MacKinnon, Ewan made me Brenna’s guardian, not you.”

Slowly, Ronan stood to his full height, but Duncan did not back down. His gaze never wavered. He refused to yield. Jamie was not going to marry Brenna. Finally, after the passing of several tense moments, Ronan clamped his hand on Duncan’s shoulder.

“Your honor is admirable. As you wish, Duncan. You have final say on who Brenna marries as long as I approve. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” Duncan replied. He turned away and made his way to the bow, passing Jamie’s slumbering figure. He fought the voice in his head instructing him to wrap the anchor around Jamie’s throat and hoist him into the rippling waves.

One thing Duncan knew for certain. Jamie, or anyone for that matter, would never marry Brenna, even at his laird’s command, and he would kill anyone who tried.

By the time the other men awoke, Duncan managed to calm his ire. He even greeted Jamie with a smile, despite how he wanted to beat him to within an inch of his life. Thankfully, he could see Mull. They would sail first to Iona to meet with the abbot. Their stay at the monastery would last no longer than three days. Then they would journey the short distance to Mull. Finally, after two months at Finlaggen castle, he returned home to Brenna, and he would ensure she stayed far away from Jamie, and every other man for that matter.

Chapter 16

The wind howled as a new season surged from out of the sea with gusts that demanded the warmth of a cloak and waves that beat the shoreline. The continuous presence of warriors on her land for the past several weeks ensured the wind carried nothing of the fey song, and her grounds remained free of thistle.

As Brenna took hold of the fresh eels Liam offered, she did not miss the glint of joy in his eyes.

“Duncan has returned,” he said.

She smiled at Liam’s enthusiasm, knowing he celebrated his own return home. “Your help has been invaluable, Liam. I thank you,” she said. Too impatient for farewells, he hurried off.

She received the news of Duncan’s return with calm acceptance. The passing of time did nothing to cloud her memory of all that transpired on the night of his departure. She remembered the feel of his hand hot on her thigh and the glint of his black hair beneath the moonlight. Still, she felt as though the memory belonged to someone else—someone reckless and excitable. She was neither of those things, or at least she never used to be. And over the last few weeks, she had started feeling more and more like her old self again.

Although Duncan was never far from her thoughts, and she was constantly aware of an underlying longing his touch awakened in her heart, she knew it was better this way. With the return of her sensibility and prudence came greater confidence. Life was a tapestry of blessings but also hardships. It did no one any good to lose their head to temper or temptation; they would only be caught off guard when disaster struck. Indeed, lately, disaster seemed to be hiding around every corner. With secrets to protect and fey creatures in the night, she had to remain on her guard. Besides, she had no room in her life for longing. Desire complicated more than it fulfilled.

She finished the morning’s wash. As she dried her hands, she examined her fully-healed skin. Her thoughts returned to the day when Duncan first discovered her wounds, and she discovered not only his hidden tenderness but also her vulnerability to his touch. Vulnerability, however, was a weakness she could not afford. No longer did she doubt her control where Duncan MacKinnon was concerned.

With a determined stride, she gathered a basket with fresh bread she made for Anna who had taken ill and remained at home for several days. She called for Nellore, and together they headed to the village.

***

Duncan knelt in the stables to inspect his horse’s hoof. He suspected the stallion had a sharp rock wedged beneath the shoe. Finding the agent of discomfort protruding with just enough surface to grip with his thumb and forefinger, he yanked it free and received a whinny in response. He stood to brush the horse’s mane. He was anxious to finish so that he might journey on to Brenna’s. The tremulous feel of her body pressed next to his pushed every other thought from his mind. He ached to be near her, to smell her, to feel his arms around her. He had felt his heart wrench in half when, upon arriving in Gribun, he heard of how a faceless intruder, wearing no plaid by which to confirm his affiliation, had been spotted near her home. Once more, he fisted his hands as rage pulsed through him.

As though heaven sought fit to calm his ire, he heard Brenna’s laughter. He spun around just in time to see her enter the stables. The lilting sound filled his ears like the song of a rare bird. Regrettably, he knew all too well the sound of her anger, her disappointment, and indifference. More than his desire for her lips or the feel of her warm body willing and wanting beneath his own, he longed for her laughter. He snorted as he considered how seldom he had given her a reason to laugh—something he fully intended to remedy. He stayed back in the shadows, content for a moment just to watch her.

“Hello, Fergus,” she called.

The stable master joined her near the first stall.

“Would you mind if Nellore visited Blossom?”

Fergus tousled Nellore’s black curls. “I will bring her along presently,” he said with a wink.

Nellore squealed as the stable master led a small chestnut mare out of a side stable. Swept up in the lass’s delight, Duncan was just about to step into the open when Jamie walked through the gate.

A wide smile lit Brenna’s features as she greeted him warmly. “Welcome home, Jamie. You look well.”

“My thanks, Brenna,” Jamie said, bowing low over her hand and pressing a kiss to her skin.

Her eyes showed her surprise, but she did not falter. “The clan rejoices at your return.”

“And you, Brenna?” Jamie said in a low, husky voice. “Do you rejoice at my return?” This time Brenna did falter. Her eyes darted about the stables. She clearly was at a loss for words. Duncan hastened into the open.

“Jamie,” he barked without greeting. “Ronan needs you. He is waiting in the courtyard.”

With a curt nod in Duncan’s direction, Jamie bowed once again to Brenna. Then he turned on his heel and exited the stables.

“Good morrow, Duncan,” she said not looking at him.

His eyes traveled from the top of her covered head to her leather clad feet. The pulse at her neck raced. “And to you, Brenna.”

“Your journey took longer than expected,” she said.

“Aye, the summer fades. I heard of your trouble, Brenna. Forgive my absence.”

“You needn’t feel remorse, Duncan. ‘Twas no fault of yours.”

Her clipped tone was less than welcoming, and she had yet to look him in the eye. His hand reached out and caressed her cheek, but she flinched away from his touch.

“I’ve thought of little else but you these past weeks. I cannot deny I imagined a warmer reception. Perhaps if I were Jamie, you would be more obliging.”

Her eyes met his at last but with menacing heat. “I’ve done naught to warrant your disrespect,” she said, pulling Nellore toward the stable doors. He grabbed her arm from behind and turned her about. At first, she refused to look at him. Then slowly her gaze met his and did not waver. His chest tightened as he stared into her sea blue eyes. The world around them ceased, the noise, the smells. He saw only her.

So complete was his trance that he jumped when she finally spoke. “I…I must go. Anna is expecting me.”

“Brenna,” he rasped.

She turned and quirked a quizzical brow. “Aye, Duncan?”

“I will walk you home when you are finished.”

“Aye, Duncan,” she replied. Then she was gone.

***

The forgotten feelings of fury and impulse returned with the speed and force of lightning. The shock of it stole her breath and made her heart pound. She hurried to Anna’s as fast as her feet would take her, praying she might outrun the unpredictable wildness renewing itself inside her bones.

Upon entering her friend’s home, her pulse began to slow. “Anna, I’ve brought you fresh bread to calm your stomach. I was sorry to hear you had taken ill.”

Anna received the basket with a warm smile. “On the contrary, I am not at all ill. As a matter of fact, I am with child. I missed my last two cycles, but amid the worry and excitement, I never noticed.”

“Anna, what joyful tidings. Words cannot express my delight.” Brenna said as she pulled her friend into a warm embrace.

“’Tis wondrous to know a babe grows inside me,” Anna said.

A pang of regret shot through Brenna. Her barren belly would never know the flutter of new life. With a shake of her head, she grabbed Nellore who was toddling past and flung her up into the air. The sound of her daughter’s laughter filled Brenna’s ears and gratitude filled her heart.

“Are you feeling well, Brenna?” Anna asked. “You appear flushed.”

“I am quite well, Anna,” Brenna lied. “I was looking forward to our visit, and so, I hurried. I am out of breath.”

Anna lifted a skeptical brow, and Brenna knew Anna would question her until satisfied. Damn her intuition. But just then a knock sounded at Anna’s door. Brenna exhaled in relief. At least for now, she was saved from speaking of Duncan.

“Rona, what a surprise,” Anna said. “And Margaret, I did not see you standing there. Please, do come in.”

Brenna cringed. Of course Rona and her mother would choose that moment to call. She would not be the least surprised if Margaret chose to visit Anna because she heard Brenna was there.

“Anna, we came to check on you, dear,” Margaret said.

“’Tis kind of you to come again so soon. I only just finished the bread you brought over this morning,” Anna said.

Margaret pushed past Anna, heading straight for Brenna. “Aye, ‘tis glad I am to hear,” Rona’s mother said with an impatient flick of her hand. “Brenna, my dear, what a surprise it is to find you here.”

Brenna resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Good day, Margaret and Rona,” Brenna said with forced graciousness.

“Forgive me for saying so, lass, but you do not look at all well. Such weary eyes, and why must you draw your hair back so severely? ‘Tis most unbecoming.” Margaret’s hand snatched Brenna’s scarf clear off her head.

“Margaret,” Anna exclaimed.

“What?” Margaret sniffed. “The end of summer draws near. She must remarry. I will not tolerate this scarf another minute.”

Brenna reached out and reclaimed her stolen property. The older woman’s eyes cut her like a volley of daggers thrown across the room, but Brenna would not abide her rudeness or interference. She pushed back her shoulders and with resolute motions, she tied her scarf in place.

“You are by far the most arrogant person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting,” Brenna said.

“Brenna,” Anna exclaimed.

Brenna ignored Anna’s shocked expression and continued. “You won’t have to tolerate my scarf another moment.” Brenna scooped up Nellore and faced Anna whose skin suddenly held a green pallor—the blame for which, Brenna knew, was her sharp tongue rather than morning sickness. She smiled reassuringly at her friend.

“Anna, come visit me when you can.” Then she shot Margaret one last glare before storming outside.

Of all the smug women Brenna was certain Margaret was the worst. Even the good Lord discouraged vanity. Brenna was not going to strut around like a proud hen with feathers splayed to please anyone. So much for an enjoyable day in the village. Wanting nothing more than to return home, she hurried about the last of her errands. With arms full, she turned from the miller, firing out a quick farewell and called for Nellore to follow.

“Brenna.”

She turned in the direction of the voice and found Jamie close behind her. His blonde hair shone like gold in the sun and fell on bronzed shoulders. His green eyes resembled deep pools of sparkling jewels. Breathtaking was the only way to describe Jamie, but his shining good looks did little to stir her blood.

“Jamie, I am in a hurry to return home.”

“Allow me to walk with you. I will relieve you of your burden,” he said gesturing to her full arms.

“No,” she snapped impatiently, but smiled to cover her rudeness. “I mean, no thank you. ‘Tis hardly a burden. I really must be going.”

She moved away but he grasped her forearm. “Permit me to visit tomorrow,” he said. She began to shake her head in refusal, but he spoke before she could. “Only for a moment, I have something for you.”

She took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders, realizing she was punishing Jamie for Margaret’s rudeness. “Thank you, Jamie, of course you are welcome in my home. You may come for supper.”

He smiled as though she gave him the moon, and he dipped his head in a chivalrous bow. She could not help but roll her eyes heavenward. God forbid if she had unknowingly won his affection. Her life was conflicted enough without adding a smitten suitor.