“By yer leave, Yer Grace, ye seriously underestimated the value of faithfulness among the Sinclair men. If ma brother pledged himself to the lass in any way, it was never for just a year and a day. He always meant it to be a lifetime. Ye ken we dinna stand for infidelity, and Magnus wouldnae ever betray a lass like that. I can vouch that he has been a monk for the past seven years.”
“Be he a monk or not, that does not change that he had no right to handfast with her in the first place. It was not a marriage. He was older and defiled her. Since arriving at court, he has disrupted her honest and legitimate betrothal and impending marriage.” Laird Fraser seethed.
“Ye would have yer daughter be a bigamist?” Tavish attempted to sound perplexed but the underlying tone of scorn was too loud to miss. “Ye are a Highlander nay matter what pretensions ye may put on. Ye ken just as well as any other, including the king, a fellow Highlander himself, that a handfast is a marriage if it’s chosen by the couple. It is only a trial when arranged by clan leaders. Ma brother married yer daughter, and ye would risk her soul and excommunication, so ye can, what, gain land, a new title, mayhap gloat to the other lordlings. I shall pray for yer soul and that ye beg the Lord’s forgiveness.”
Hamish stepped beside his nephew and rested a hand on his shoulder. It was not just a familial gesture. It reminded everyone in the room that the Sinclairs and Sutherlands stood together as two of the most powerful clans in the Highlands.
“Sire, ye have heard a great deal from ma nephew. He hasnae been here long enough to ken all that has transpired. He hasnae even seen his brother yet. What he tells ye, he does so because it is the truth he has always kenned.”
“Sire, nae to state the obvious, but ma brother and sister by marriage have been traveling throughout the Scottish countryside for how many days? Alone? Do ye honestly believe there is a chance they didna claim their marital rights? At the least, they would have handfasted again, and surely they consummated this union.” Tavish cleared his throat. “It’s a mite late to even claim she’s been compromised. I’d say it’s gone a far sight beyond just compromise.”
Tavish stood his ground as Laird Fraser lunged towards him.
“Ye bluidy Sinclairs think ye have the answer to everything. Ye’re all alike. Ye’re nay better than yer brother, the bastard.”
“Dinna speak of ma mother like that, or ye may fall asleep but nae wake up.” Tavish bit out. “Considering me as good as any of ma brothers is an honor. They’re the finest men I ken.”
“Cease, Fraser. Sinclair has given me much to think about. Tavish, retire to a chamber. I will summon you when I am ready to decide.”
Tavish bowed but took a final shot across the bow when he looked at Laird Fraser.
“By the by, yer burr is showing again. Ye can hide here, but ye’re a Highlander, and ye ken exactly what that means. Find yer honor before ye lose yer soul.”
Chapter Three
Ceit Comyn watched as the giant Highlander left the Great Hall once again. She noticed him three days ago when he appeared at court and their gazes collided. The first time they looked at one another, a surge of heat coursed through her that she never experienced before. There was something magnetizing about him, and she did not like it one bit. She recognized his plaid having grown up near the Highlands.
New to court, Ceit was still trying to adjust to the strange culture and customs that surrounded the ladies-in-waiting and other courtiers. She was still trying to understand the necessity of changing her gown multiple times throughout the day based upon where they sat or when they ate. She was also attempting to overcome the hurt inflicted by the other young women who mercilessly teased her. The only kind one was Deirdre Fraser, and she was not even that well acquainted with the other young woman.
Ceit looked now from the door to Mary Kerr, the indisputable leader of the group though she led with malice and vindictiveness that made the other ladies give in rather than end up in her cross hairs. The meal was to start soon, so the young women followed in Mary’s wake as they moved to their table. Before sitting, she glanced once more at the door.
What is the matter with me? It isnae like ye didna grow up with braw men all around ye. He isnae that different from any other mon ye’ve seen before. Ye’d be wise to stop staring at him, Ceit Comyn. Naught good can come of it. He’s a Sinclair.
The meal progressed at a snail’s pace as she continued to listen to Mary drone on about the Sinclairs and how they wronged her family. It was becoming a tired refrain as Mary harped on the issue to anyone who might listen, and for those who were not, she made sure they did not escape until they had. Ceit looked down at her trencher and tried to tune out the hum of voices around her.
“Zounds! That barbarian is back again. As though it was not bad enough when his brother was here, but now there is another. With justice, this one will end up in the dungeons just as his brother did.”
Ceit’s head snapped up. There was only one person who would elicit those comments from Mary Kerr.
“Lady Mary, it seems ye want to welcome me to court. How most gracious of ye. Just when I was sure our families couldnae be friends, ye wish me to extend ma stay. Though I’ve been invited to much warmer chambers in the past.”
Tavish’s warm baritone swept across the women as they all stared at the man who would dare address the queen’s ladies without a proper introduction. Ceit also did not miss the innuendo of his last comment.
Nae only is he braw, but he kens it well. He is the type to only dally, and I amnae the type to lose ma reputation over it. The others can have him.
Ceit rose to leave the table, but the backside of the lady next to her trapped her gown. She wobbled on her feet and would have fallen backwards when two warm hands landed on her shoulders. She looked back to see Tavish standing far too close. Her surprise must have been clear because he released her and stepped back.
“Thank ye,” she breathed out.
Tavish’s eyes widened and then he smiled. It was a heartbreakingly devilish smile, and Ceit wanted none of it. It was a smile she was sure he used far too many times to get him far too much.
“Excuse me, ladies, my lord, I seem to be developing a headache. I shall retire.”
Before anyone, including Tavish said more, she scooted past the monolith still behind her and made her way to the exit. Once in the corridor, she paused to catch her breath. Her head was hurting after the proximity to Tavish. However, she accepted that retiring to her chamber was not an option. Instead, she moved to an alcove and waited.
A charge ran through Tavish when he caught the woman after she nearly fell. His body had an instantaneous reaction unlike any he had with another woman. Tavish had bedded his share, if not more, but there was something about this unnamed woman that drew him like the proverbial moth to a flame. He was unable to keep himself from goading Mary Kerr as he walked by, overhearing her insults. The king told him to retire to a chamber, but he was famished and intended to enjoy the evening meal. Hamish was on his way to a table with Tavish’s aunt and cousins, but he wanted to nettle the young woman a little. Tavish was sure she had something to do with Magnus’s trouble, and he hoped to learn how. He had not expected to see, touch, or hear the young woman who kept drawing his attention, and he was unprepared for her slight brogue. Now as he sat with his family, he wondered who she was.
“I see ye met yer betrothed, or soon to be,” his aunt looked at him and smiled.
“I dinna think so. I dinna ken who she is.”
“She was the woman standing in front of ye. Ye kept her from falling, but she scurried away. Did ye scare her?”
All the blood drain from Tavish’s face, neck, and chest. It all pooled in his groin.
Sweet Jesus. That’s Cathryn Comyn? The woman the king bids me to marry is the same woman I canna stop watching. Bluidy hell.
“Tavish? Are ye nae listening to yer aunt?” Hamish’s voice broke through Tavish’s wandering mind.
“Aye. I beg yer pardon. I didna catch
the last bit.”
His aunt smiled indulgently at him and patted his hand across the table.
“I said that ye have been blessed with the lass. She is well liked and vera talented from what is said aboot court. She is rather shy, but kind. The king may vera well have done ye quite a favor.”
Tavish nodded his head as he looked to the door where he saw her exit. He wanted to follow her, but he accepted he must not leave the meal and she was bound to have sought her chamber by now. Tavish forced himself to sit with his family for the rest of the meal. However, he was glad to escape when his aunt excused herself to see to his younger cousins.
“Uncle, I am rather tired. It would be best if I retire if I am to seek another audience with the king and find Magnus.”
His uncle gave him a knowing look.
“Found one of yer merry widows already? Vera well.”
Tavish offered his uncle a tight smile. He had no intention of finding anyone. He had already sworn off other women, and now that he realized who his intended was, he found the only desire he had was to get to see her again. Tavish was embarrassed for the first time that his past pursuits were what his reputation might be built upon.
Tavish left the Great Hall but had not gotten very far when the swish of a gown followed him. He ignored it until a voice called out to him socco vote.
“Tavish, I was sure I saw you.”
Tavish wracked his brain for the familiar voice and froze when the memory flashed back to him. He almost wanted to cringe, but he turned around.
A beautiful woman with dark brown hair artfully piled upon her head glided towards him. She smiled as her brown eyes danced with flirtatious merriment.
“Just when I worried you might not stop. I have missed you,” she cooed and tapped his broad chest with her fan. She reached one hand up to brush back a lock of chestnut hair from his shoulder. Tavish lightly grasped her wrist before she touched him.
“Lady MacAdams,” Tavish found he had nothing else to say.
“It was Amelia that you called out last time you were here.”
Tavish cleared his throat before looking down at the woman who was now pressing her breasts against him. He subtly leaned away from her.
“Lady MacAdams,” he tried again. “That was some time ago. I am sure it is a memory long forgotten.”
“You are quite an unforgettable man, but I am sure we can find a way to forget ourselves for the eve.” She tilted her head back and parted her lips in clear invitation.
“Ah, as tempting as that may be, I am nay longer available.”
He released her wrist and stepped aside in clear dismissal. A hard cast settled over her face, and Tavish experienced a moment of worry. He learned well from his family’s experiences with cast off women. A woman scorned was more dangerous than the wildest animal.
“The memory shall keep me warm tonight.” He attempted to mollify her, but it was too little, too late as she swept past him.
Tavish did not turn to watch her go. Instead he waited until he was sure she would be out of sight before turning to head in the same direction.
He had not made it very far before the tapestry hanging in front of an alcove shifted. The movement caught him unaware, and he pulled a dirk from his waist.
“Put that away before ye hurt yerself,” came an amused whisper.
Tavish looked over to see Ceit leaning out of the alcove and waving him over. He warily approached.
“I amnae going to harm ye. Ye can stop brandishing that wee knife as though ye need to defend yerself against me.” Now Ceit was clearly laughing, at him.
Tavish sheathed his blade and stepped into the alcove lit by a small candle stub. Tavish looked down at the woman and caught his first unimpeded view of her face. She had a rather nondescript shade of light brown hair and brown eyes, but there was intelligence and humor that shone from them which left him with heat pooling in his cods once again. She was not at all his usual type as Lady MacAdams would prove. He went for the easy and willing conquests who looked at him with the same desire he did them. The woman before him had no hints of desire in her gaze, but nonetheless, he had a longing to taste her and to hold her.
“What are ye doing in here?” Tavish whispered as the tapestry settled behind him. The alcove would have been reasonably comfortable if he was not so large. Once he stepped all the way into the recessed space, there was little room for Ceit except pinned to the back wall. Something about seeing her boxed in did not settle well with Tavish. He did not want her to perceive she was trapped even if she seemed unconcerned now. He angled himself and held her upper arms to move her into the spot in which he stood. The strength and definition in her slim arms surprised him. They were not the arms of a lady but those of a woman used to activity. His gaze shifted to her eyes and saw a challenge and defensiveness that had not been there moments ago. He released her arms and pressed his back against the wall.
“Ye dinna scare me. Or at least ye havenae so far. I amnae fearful of ye trapping me in here. I ken, for more than one reason, that I can leave whenever I choose.”
“Oh? Do ye make a habit of meeting unknown men in alcoves?”
“Nay,” Tavish looked down when he noticed a sharp poke in his side. Seeing the tip of a sgain dubh resting between his ribs surprised him. “I dinna get the sense that ye are the type to harm a woman, or at least yer family’s reputation leads me to that conclusion. And if ye are, then ye should ken I have vera fast reflexes. Ma dirk will be between yer ribs before ye can reach for me again.”
“Put that away before ye hurt yerself. It isnae a toy,” he growled and reached for her wrist. The twinge of pain as the tip pressed harder had him dropping his hand. “Ye’ve made yer point, lass.”
“I amnae sure I have, but it isnae meant to be at the end of ma dirk.” She pulled the blade away but did not put it away. “I ken what happened to yer brother.”
“Most people do now.”
“Nay, I mean what really happened. Lord Archibald Hay has spies throughout the castle. He attempted to have yer brother killed while on the hunt. He’s also arranged with the Frasers to abduct Lady Deidre while yer brother rots in the dungeon. He’s been gone from the keep for three days already. That’s enough time to smuggle her away. I would venture to say Crichton or somewhere thereabouts.”
Tavish took in this information as he listened to the woman he intended to marry share secrets he was not sure he wanted to be told how she learned.
“How do ye ken so much? How do ye even ken who I am?”
“It is obvious who ye are. Ye wear the Sinclair plaid, ye look like Lord Magnus, and ye’re the brawest mon I’ve ever seen.” Her face flushed as she spoke the last. She had not meant to admit that. “Everyone kens the Sinclair brothers are the most unusually strong and good-looking men in their clan. It’s said yer brother, Alexander, is the most handsome of them all.”
“Ye play with fire like a moth.” He breathed onto her cheek as he leaned forward. “Alexander is a married mon now and isnae even here. But I am.”
“That’s why I called ye over. Because ye are the one here.” She attempted to sound unaffected by his proximity or her bumbling words. “Do ye want to see yer brother or nae?”
Tavish straightened and watched as her eyebrow hiked up in question.
“Ye ken I do, but how can ye arrange that? How do ye ken so much?” He asked for a second time.
“If ye meet me in the morning, I can take ye to him.”
Tavish noticed that she evaded his question a second time. He was not interested in having a devious wife. He wanted a trustworthy one. He studied her and took in the way she held a dirk, the strength in her arms, the intelligence he already recognized she possessed, and the wariness that lingered in her eyes even when she teased him. Something spoke to him that she was not convinced she should trust him yet. It bothered him that this was the case. He realized that he wanted her to trust him. He wanted her to want him, but he also wanted to understand why she would help
him when it was clear she was unaware they were to be betrothed.
“Lass, I dinna even ken yer name. Ye have me at a disadvantage. I dinna ken who I’m sneaking around to meet.”
“Cathryn. And I already ken ye’re Tavish Sinclair. If yer name hadnae been muttered plenty of times over the past three days from Mary Kerr, I would have kenned it from yer friend, Lady MacAdams.”
Tavish wanted to sink into the ground. She might not have been informed yet that she was set to marry him, but once she did, he was sure she would not appreciate overhearing a hint of his past.
Just a moment. When did I accept the notion of marrying her so easily? When I arrived here three days ago, I was trying to figure out how to avoid the betrothal. Before I kenned who she was, I was lusting after a woman I didna consider I would marry. And now, ten minutes in her company, and I am ready to read the bans maself. What the devil is wrong with me?
Tavish looked down at her again and realized she was tall. Unlike most women of his acquaintance, she came to his shoulders. The nondescript brown eyes were a shade of the lightest hazel and were translucent. The green and gold shot through them made them look like the darkest amber. She did not have to look up very far to look into his eyes, and he realized he would not need to bend very far to kiss her. And kissing her was something he wanted to do as badly as he needed his next breath. He forced himself to keep his hands to his side. She did not seem interested in any advances, and she certainly was not flirting with him.
“Ye say ye can take me to ma brother in the morn. Why can ye nae do it now?”
Ceit’s face became a mask, but the shifting of her weight from foot to foot announced her discomfort.
“I canna stay any longer. Meet me in the east wing just after ye’ve broken yer fast. I will come from chapel with the other ladies. Do nae let anyone see ye.”
His Highland Surprise (The Clan Sinclair Book 1) Page 2
