Highlanders (20 page)

There were no true words to describe it. Edmon had been a reasonable husband, and he’d shared her bed each night. Their marriage had been comfortable.

“No, I didn’t love him,” she said at last. “But he would understand what I must do to protect my sister from harm.”

Nairna came behind her with a comb in her hand. Slowly, she began unfastening the braids, loosening the strands until they hung in waving curls down Celeste’s back. “Do not cover your hair tonight, and do not wear it up.” She combed through the strands, and then arranged them over Celeste’s shoulders. “If you see a man who interests you, let one of us know, and we will help.”

Nairna turned to face her. “I don’t know you at all, Lady Eiloch. Thus far, you seem like a good woman. But I should be warning you—” she lowered her hands to her sides, her eyes turning serious “—treat our men with care. They are strong warriors, who would die for their women. We would do the same for them.”

* * *

A
T
THE
FEAST
that night, the mead was poured freely, as fast as the men and women could drink. Dougal remained apart from the others, watching as his brothers’ wives introduced Lady Eiloch to several men of the clan. Although it was likely that Nairna and Laren meant nothing by it, Dougal found himself unable to take his gaze from her.

Her hair was down, falling in waves past her hips. Nairna had loaned her a glass necklace, and Dougal didn’t doubt that every man was staring at the place where the pendant was nestled. Those who were even more drunk would start fights amongst themselves for a chance to be with her.

It wasn’t his concern. Why should he care if his kinsmen wanted to steal a moment away with her? She meant nothing to him anymore. He intended to return to the horses, taking his leave from the crowd.

And yet...his feet would not move. It was as if an invisible spell had woven itself around him, making it impossible to do anything except watch Celeste. She stood surrounded by men, and yet, she stole a glance at him as if pleading with him to save her. Although she’d managed a smile toward his kinsmen, he could see her discomfort growing. She picked at her food, refusing several who asked her to dance. He knew, even if they didn’t, that she hated dancing.

Dougal finished his own fare, but it was tasteless. Even with the sweetness of the mead to wash it down, he took no pleasure in the feasting.

“I never thought you were a coward.”

Dougal turned and saw his eldest brother, Bram, standing behind him. He didn’t know what his brother meant, but he suspected it had much to do with his avoidance of Lady Eiloch. “She’s fine enough on her own.”

“She doesn’t want those men, despite Nairna’s efforts to make a match. Her attention is on you. Why do you not go to speak with her?”

Because she made her choice.

Dougal felt the suffocating tension rising up inside him. Seeing her among his family was abrading his mood, making him wish they would all leave him alone. “She wants my protection, nothing more.”

“Then you’re blind, lad.”

He bristled at that. He wasn’t an adolescent lad anymore, but a man grown. “I’ve better things to do.” Like drink himself into a stupor, to forget the way it had felt to be in her arms, to taste her lips.

“You’re afraid of her,” Bram predicted. His brother was baiting him, but Dougal refused to play any part of this game.

“I’m afraid of nothing. Especially her.” He strode across the crowd, his mouth tight with anger. There was only one place he wanted to be right now—far away from the prying eyes of family members.

As if in answer to his dark mood, many women smiled at him as he passed. Several were fair of face, but he ignored them all. As he drew nearer, Celeste’s eyes never left his.

His feet stopped moving, though he’d wanted to keep going. She was staring at him, a silent question in her eyes. He knew how much she hated people watching her. Like him, she wanted to be apart from everyone else.

Don’t
, his mind warned. The best course of action was to keep walking to leave her behind. Hadn’t he learned anything since the last time?

And yet, he held out his hand to her. She took it without question, following him away from the MacKinlochs. Her hand was cool in his, the skin softer than he remembered. She said nothing at all, but continued to walk with him to the stables.

“Thank you,” she said at last. “I was feeling overwhelmed around so many people.” She released his hand, even as she continued to walk alongside him. The evening was warm, and the scent of her skin caught his attention with the faintness of flowers. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, brushing against his hand.

In his mind, Dougal wanted to press her up against the fence, forcing her to admit that she’d chosen to wed the wrong man. He craved her kiss, and he wanted to touch more of her bare skin. But he pushed the errant thoughts away.

He stopped before the fence that enclosed the clan’s horses. Ivory trotted closer, likely expecting a carrot or a piece of dried apple. But instead of coming to his side, she stopped before Lady Eiloch.

“You’re a sweet girl,” she murmured, rubbing the mare’s nose. “I can’t imagine that anyone would want to hurt you.”

“Is that why you ran away?” Dougal asked quietly. “Was someone trying to hurt you?”

He hadn’t thought of it in that light, but she’d left so quickly, it was possible. The idea of another man trying to claim her made him tense.

Celeste nodded slowly. “And because I need help.” Her gaze fixed upon him, and suddenly, she reached out to touch his shoulder. “If you’re willing.”

The word
willing
slid through him with an entirely different meaning. He opened the gate and moved away from her, using the mare as a means of repressing the desire she’d conjured. Did she even understand what she was doing? Was she trying to push him closer to the edge?

“Why would I be?” Without waiting for an answer, he went inside the stables and brought out a brush to tend to the mare. Though he’d already taken care of Ivory earlier, he was looking for any distraction.

“Because I think I know something you do want.” She opened the gate, following him. “And it’s something I could give to you.”

Violent heat roared through him. His lust-filled imagination provoked him with images of her silken skin, her eyes filled with desire.

And yet, when he turned to her, he saw naught but innocence in her eyes.

“Go back to the others,” he warned. She had no idea how much he desired her, how his control was stretched to breaking point. “I want nothing from you.”

“I meant only—” Her fingers touched his, and that was all it took to snap the thread of restraint. Dougal pressed her back against the wooden fence, his hands around her waist. Leaning in, he snarled, “I’m not feeling very honorable right now. I said you should go.”

Most women would have fled at that very moment. She looked frightened, but instead of leaving, she whispered, “I would offer you a horse. A stallion to breed with your mare.”

Her words penetrated the cloud of desire thrumming in his veins. A horse, she’d said. Not herself.

“There are no Arabians this far north.”

“My husband had one,” she murmured. “It was given to him last year. He’s black, with a white star on his forehead.”

“Is that what you think I want?” He had to know her purpose, and from the sudden confusion on her face, he suspected it was.

“Isn’t it?” The question hovered between them, and when her lips pressed together, he grew suddenly aware that she had not tried to push free of him. Instead, she’d remained trapped in his embrace, as if she, too, wanted him.

“Your mare is important to you,” she whispered. “I only thought you might want another horse like her.”

“The horse isn’t yours to give,” he warned. No one alive would let a valuable war stallion go, not because of a woman’s wishes.

“I keep my promises,” she said. “And if you will help me find a way to keep my sister safe, the horse will be yours. If you want him.”

Her hands moved to rest upon his chest. Aye, he did want a horse to breed with Ivory. She was a lovely mare and would make a good dam, with the right sire for her foals.

“Why me?” he demanded. “Such a horse is worth more than a chest of silver.” That, he knew well, for he’d paid nearly that much for Ivory.

“What I would ask of you is not an easy thing.” Her hands came up to his face, as if there were not two years of distance between them. As if she’d conjured up the past, reminding him of how she’d ensnared him.

The soft caress was his undoing. Pressing himself close to her, Dougal growled, “You don’t ken what you’re doing, lass.”

“No,” she whispered. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” And she lifted her mouth to his, kissing him softly.

* * *

F
ROM
THE
MOMENT
Celeste kissed him, she tasted the tension in his body. Like a frosted pane of ice, he didn’t respond to her kiss at all. Her cheeks burned, for she’d thrown herself at him, only to find that he didn’t want her. Her embarrassment went so deep, she was drowning in it. She pulled back immediately, wishing she’d never given in to impulse.

There was no love remaining within him. Not even desire, it seemed.

“What was that for?” he demanded, his face rigid. In his dark eyes, she saw suspicion and a glimpse of a man who would not allow anyone to use him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I—I thought—”

I
thought we could go back to the way it was before.
But how terrible was it to find that he didn’t desire her? That she had misread him and was wasting her time with a man who would not yield to a moment of madness?

“You were wrong, Celeste.” His voice slid over her with the dark trace of danger. She expected him to release her, to push her aside even. But instead, he kept his hands on either side of her, leaving her trapped against the fence. She lifted her eyes to his, and in his expression, she saw wariness.

“You tempted me,” she admitted. “I wanted to know if it would be the same as before.”

But it wasn’t. Not anymore.

Dougal used his height to intimidate her, and she grew well aware that this man was not one who would let a woman make demands of him. His dark hair hung below his shoulders, and though he was lean, she sensed that every inch of him was hardened with muscle. If she tried to seduce him, he would be very different from her husband. The thought sent a prickling rush through her skin. “It will never be like it was before.”

“I’m grateful to you for bringing me to safety,” she said quietly. “The kiss was my mistake, and it won’t happen again.” She expected him to back away from her, now that her pride was shattered into a thousand pieces.

But instead, he held her there, his dark eyes discerning. It was difficult to keep her thoughts clear when he was watching her like this. She turned her gaze aside and saw that the mare was grazing behind Dougal, the moonlight reflected against the animal’s silvery coat.

“I meant what I said, about giving you the Arabian stallion,” she added. “But if you want nothing more to do with me, I’ll understand.” She kept her gaze averted, not wanting to see his refusal.

“I’m not as daft as you think I am,” he said in a low voice.

“I never said you were.” Somehow, she’d triggered his anger, and she wasn’t certain how to soothe him. But she was entirely aware of the way his arms rested on either side of her, his body shadowing hers like a predator.

He held her imprisoned, his face resting against hers. “You’re wanting something else from me,” he predicted, lifting her chin. “Something you won’t tell. I know you better than any other man here. But I’m not one to be swayed by sweet words and soft kisses.”

“Nor horses, it seems.” She couldn’t tear her gaze from him, and the touch of his hand warmed her skin. “Just let it be, Dougal. I won’t ask anything of you anymore.” She turned her cheek and pushed his hand aside.

“Did you ever kiss your husband like that?” he demanded.

Blood rushed into her cheeks, and she wondered why he was asking such a thing. Why would he care? “Edmon didn’t like kissing.”

If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the answer pleased him. His shadowed face was unreadable, and she didn’t know what he wanted from her now. She was about to demand that he release her, when this time, Dougal leaned in again.

“Was I the only one, then?”

Her heartbeat shuddered, and she was held captive by his deep voice. “Your kiss was the only one that ever mattered.”

His arms encircled her waist, and she didn’t stop him when he leaned in to claim her mouth. The kiss began with heated breath, firm and coaxing. She was lost in the touch of his mouth while his hands rested upon her hips. His mouth offered an invitation, not a conquest. When she opened to him, kissing him back, it transformed entirely.

Memories poured through her, of the way he’d taught her to kiss. Of the stolen moments when they’d practiced with each other.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hold a clear thought while his hot mouth was upon hers. Heat pulsed through her body, her blood awakening as his tongue slid against hers. Bold and unrestrained, his tongue thrust against hers, demanding her surrender.

Without understanding why, her arms moved around his neck, and his hard body pressed against hers. She could feel his arousal against the juncture of her thighs, and the pressure wasn’t at all frightening. Instead, she curved against him, welcoming his strength against her softness. Between her legs, there was an aching emptiness.

Desire. Need like she’d not experienced before was there in the way his tongue moved within her mouth. She wanted him to bare her skin, to feel his mouth kissing her everywhere. A shudder rocked through her when he rubbed himself against her.

When he released her, his dark eyes were raging. “Stay away from me, Lady Eiloch. Unless you plan to finish what we started.”

With that, he strode away, leaving her with weak knees and a pounding heart.

CHAPTER THREE

W
ITH
BURNING
CHEEKS
,
Celeste moved back to the crowd of MacKinlochs. There was music and she saw the chief, Alex MacKinloch, with his wife, Laren, seated beside him at table. He leaned over to whisper in her ear, and the woman blushed, sending him a secret smile.

All around were men and women stealing away for a moment alone. Even Nairna was dancing with her husband, Bram, their eyes locked on each other.

Celeste stood back from them, feeling as though anyone could see the guilt on her face.

Now she understood why he’d kissed her. Dougal wanted retribution for the way she’d left him. He wanted to remind her of the passion between them, showing her what she’d turned away. And he would be the one to leave her now.

Dougal might be willing to take her into his bed—but not as an act of love. She felt certain he would use it as vengeance against her.

It doesn’t matter
, she tried to tell her broken conscience.
What matters is protecting Melisandre.

She would have to fight for her share of the inheritance, and the idea made her weary just to think of it. By law, she was owed a portion of property to live upon. But to be forced out of her home, her sister’s dowry taken...it was too much to think of.

Celeste walked toward the food, feeling suddenly hungry. Was there another way out of this, other than returning with a child in her womb? It was such a desperate act, and there was no guarantee that she would even give birth. Especially with Rowena plotting against her, wanting her to miscarry. The weight of her troubles pressed down upon her, and Celeste forced back the tears.

She couldn’t weep. Tears would solve nothing at all. Instead, she reached for a cup of mead and drained it quickly, before accepting another. Without enough food in her stomach, the second drink made her light-headed. It didn’t matter. She wanted to rid herself of the thoughts of failure.

She watched the other women, at the way they flirted. Without bothering to hide her interest, she rested her cheek against one hand and stared. No one had ever taught her how to attract a man’s interest. When she had met Dougal at Locharr, he had made his interest known. He had come there to train with the baron’s men, and she’d been fascinated by him from the first.

He’d found many reasons to be near her, until soon enough, they were stealing away to be alone.

Just like the men and women here, though she and Dougal had never been lovers.

Celeste drank another glass of mead, watching as one woman caught a man’s eye, smiled at him, and then went to speak to a different man.

Interesting. Was that what she should be doing? Instead of throwing herself at Dougal, should she be pursuing another man instead? Intrigued by the idea, she reached for a piece of mutton, nodding in welcome when Nairna sat down.

“Are you enjoying yourself, Lady Eiloch?”

“You may call me Celeste,” she corrected. “And yes, I am. It was kind of you to host a gathering for me.”

“Where has Dougal gone?” Nairna asked. “Have you seen him?”

Not since I kissed him
,
and he ordered me to stay away.

“A while ago, he showed me the horses.” She toyed with her goblet.

Nairna sobered. “He spends far too much time with the animals. He needs a wife.” Eyeing her closer, she added, “Have you considered him as a possibility?”

“I don’t think Dougal has any interest in wedding a woman like me,” Celeste said. She stood up and the ground seemed unsteady beneath her feet. “He’d prefer one of your maidens, I suppose.”

“Then why is he staring at you?” Nairna countered, nodding toward the opposite side of the crowd. Celeste followed her gaze to where she saw Dougal holding his own cup of mead. Just as the woman had said, he was watching her.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. But the earlier kiss lingered with her still. She knew he’d done it to prove a point—that Edmon was nothing compared to him.

And she was well aware of it. She excused herself from Nairna, wanting to be alone. She skirted the crowd, moving closer to where a large bonfire blazed. Sparks drifted into the night sky, and several children danced while another clan member played the pipes.

“Dance with me?” came the voice of a young boy, perhaps seven years old. His brown hair was cut short, and he had a smile that could charm any girl into doing what he wanted. Celeste couldn’t help but beam at him, and she took his hands. Several of the MacKinlochs were amused at the sight of them, but she was startled to find that the boy was quite good at dancing. He spun her around, and without meaning to, she started laughing. The mead, coupled with the dancing, made it nearly impossible to stand upright. But when she stumbled, another man caught her.

“Mind yourself, lass. We wouldna want you to be burned this night.”

Celeste thanked him, but instead of giving her back to the boy, the man kept her hands in his. This time, the song had finished and another began that was slower. His palm rested upon her spine, and he added, “Kerr, I’ll be dancing with the lady now. Find another and be off.”

The boy looked disgruntled but did as he was ordered. Celeste stumbled again, but the man steadied her. “I am Robbie MacKinloch.”

She ventured a smile, but the man’s confidence made her feel uncertain. He was broad chested, with strong arms and a sword at his side. He, too, could be a protector. And yet...she found herself wishing she could hide away from all men. She went through the motions of dancing with Robbie, dimly aware of their conversation.

“Lady Eiloch?” He was waiting for an answer, and she realized she hadn’t heard his question.

“I’m sorry. What was that?”

“I was asking if you’d like to walk with me by the loch.”

Celeste glanced in the direction of the water, suddenly understanding that this man was offering exactly what she’d wanted—a private moment that could lead to more.

And yet, she found herself unable to move. Every instinct told her no. Why had she ever thought she could do this? The idea of lying beneath a stranger was appalling.

“Not just now,” she said to him, apologizing as she excused herself. She kept walking past the crowds, past Dougal, until she stood near the stone wall surrounding the castle of Glen Arrin. Ivy had wound its way through the stones, covering the gray in a veil of green.

Footsteps sounded behind her, but she already knew who was following her now.

* * *

“I
WANT
HER
found,” Lady Rowena demanded. Lionel de Laurent removed his helm, and his expression was shielded. “You know what will happen if she has conceived a child.”

“I do.”

His voice was like iron, and Rowena took comfort from it. Lionel was a strong man, a husband who would not allow anyone to threaten the future of their children.

“I have sent a dozen men in search of her,” he said quietly. “When the scouts return, we will bring her back, and that will be the end of it.” His gray eyes sharpened. “If she were with child, she would not have fled.”

“You don’t know that. She might be trying to protect the babe.”

Rowena would have done the same, were she in Celeste’s place. She would do anything to guard her sons and daughter. Just as she would do whatever was necessary to secure their future inheritance.

She went to stand by the hearth in the solar, unable to stop herself from pacing. “There can be no child, Lionel.”

“I know. But she has a strong reason to return. We hold her sister here.” Although her husband’s words were calm, Rowena took comfort in that. It was true that they could use Melisandre if necessary.

She smiled. “Perhaps we should send her a token to remind her of what she’s left behind.” A garment or perhaps Melisandre’s long braid. “Something to lure her back.”

Her husband did not smile. Instead, his gaze hardened. “We will find Celeste. Whether or not we bring her back alive depends upon her obedience.”

* * *

D
OUGAL
FOLLOWED
C
ELESTE
beyond the crowd of people, deeper into the shadows. Although she likely knew he was there, she didn’t speak. Only when he came to stand at her side did she admit, “Don’t do this to me, Dougal. I don’t want to be your enemy anymore.”

She turned to face him, and the look of anguish in her eyes was a blow to his gut. “I can’t go back and change the decisions I made. But it hurts me even more to see how much you’ve come to hate me.”

“I don’t hate you,” he said quietly. “But I wish you hadn’t returned.”

“They don’t know about me, do they?” She gripped her arms, the sadness evident. “You never told them.”

“There was no reason to.” He was glad he hadn’t. At least then he could maintain his pride. “And if you say anything, I’ll deny it.”

Her face grew pensive. “I had my reasons for the choice I made. And I don’t regret marrying Edmon. I only regret hurting you.”

It wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. He’d wanted her to say that she’d made a terrible mistake, that she’d wanted to wed him. Not a Norman lord who’d given her silks and hundreds of acres.

“I suppose it was good that we didn’t wed. For I now know that gold was more important to you than anything else.”

She looked stricken at his words, and they’d hurt her the way he’d wanted them to. But to her credit, she made no denial.

“I never forgot you. Not then, and not now.” She squared her shoulders and faced him. “I want you to go back with me. Be my escort and help me to protect Melisandre.”

He dug a little deeper for more information. “Have you no one else to help? Uncles or cousins?”

“My uncles live far to the south. Even if we did journey there, we might not find them. They’re mercenary knights.” She finally turned back to him. “I need a way of protecting her and—” From the bleak expression on her face, he could see the dark fears. “I don’t want to give up on Eiloch,” she said. “Part of it is mine, by law. I want to fight for it. And you will have your reward if you come with me.”

If he traveled with her to Eiloch, every hour would be nothing short of torment. Even now, her beauty was a siren’s call, tempting him to cast aside common sense and accompany her on this futile quest.

God help him, no. He would not let her talk him into this. He’d kissed her because he wanted to punish her for choosing another man. To show her what it would have been like, had she wed him. Instead, it had only fired up the dormant feelings of desire.

“Please,” she whispered. Without waiting for his refusal, she brushed past him, and her scent invaded his mind. Reminding him of the way she’d kissed him back, clinging to him.

Dougal waited for several minutes before returning to the bonfire. The contests had begun, and he saw other men lining up across from one another, bare chested. The MacKinlochs enjoyed challenging one another in physical sparring, and his brothers were among those who fought.

“I’ve been wanting the chance to fight you again, Dougal,” came the voice of Robbie. The man had removed his tunic and wore only trews. He had already defeated several men in wrestling, and his gaze narrowed upon Dougal.

This was not about physical prowess. In Robbie’s eyes, Dougal had caught a hint of jealousy. He wanted to unman Dougal before the others, to prove himself a better protector for Celeste.

It wouldn’t happen. Dougal had nothing to prove, for all the MacKinlochs had seen him defeat Robbie with no weapons, save his hands and his agility.

“I’ve bested you already,” he told Robbie. “I’ve no need to do it again.” The laughter and murmurs of approval surrounded him, as he crossed to stand by his brothers.

“Are you afraid you can’t manage it a second time?” Robbie flexed his muscles, showing off his arms as he walked around the fire.

“No. I’ve simply no desire to humiliate you before the women.”

It was the truth, but Robbie viewed the words as a taunt. “Come and fight, MacKinloch,” he dared, beckoning.

* * *

C
ELESTE
DIDN
’
T
WANT
either of them to fight, for she sensed that she would somehow end up caught in the middle. She had already made her decision and had no intention of letting the outcome be decided by a sparring match.

She wanted Dougal to be her champion. Not only because he was a strong man, easily able to guard her...but also because she wanted to heal the enmity between them.

“Don’t fight over me,” she asked, standing between the men. “Please.”

“I would be glad to serve you,” Robbie said. His gaze turned heated and he added, “In any way you would have me.”

There were suggestive comments uttered by the crowd and a few whistles. His offer embarrassed her, though it was made in teasing. It was what she’d set out to do...find a man who would defend her, claim her and give her the bairn she needed. Undoubtedly, Robbie MacKinloch would do anything she asked. Yet, it felt terribly wrong.

She met his gaze for a moment, then turned to look at Dougal. He’d stepped back, as if he’d predicted her decision and didn’t care what she did. When she studied his face, it was devoid of all emotion. If she walked away with Robbie this very moment, Dougal would do nothing to stop her.

But she didn’t want Robbie. She wanted the man whose kiss had shaken her out of slumber, into a moment where her world was made real again. Where she no longer felt so desperately alone.

“You are a brave fighter,” she said to Robbie after a long pause, “and I am grateful to you for the offer.” She squared her shoulders, facing the crowd. “But I have already asked Dougal MacKinloch to be my guard.”

The color in Robbie’s face darkened. She tried not to look at him, but instead stared at Dougal. His brown eyes had narrowed, his mouth taut with banked fury.

He didn’t want this at all—she understood that. But she’d put him in a position where he could say nothing to deny her, without doing so in front of everyone.

She moved through the people, seeking her own retreat, but Dougal was pushing his way past his brother’s wife, heading straight toward her.