His Highland Surprise (The Clan Sinclair Book 1)

by Celeste Barclay

  Tavish sucked in a deep breath before sighing.

  “I suppose nae.”

  “Give the lassie a chance. Ye may vera well surprise one another. If ye still canna come to an agreement by the change of the moon, then I will release ye both.”

  Tavish pressed his lips into a thin line but nodded.

  “Thank ye, Sire.”

  Tavish bowed and backed away.

  “Tav, the queen is in the gardens.”

  Tavish nodded and slipped from the chamber.

  Ceit moved towards the ladies-in-waiting. She had remained in her bath as long as she dared before catching cold. She dressed herself and forced her mind to settle as she sought the queen and her companions. She found them in the gardens, gossiping as was their most frequent routine.

  “There she is!” Lady Isabella Dunbar pointed towards Ceit.

  Ceit suppressed a groan as she plastered a tranquil smile on her face and canted her head at an angle before nodding.

  “Tell us about how that beastly Sinclair murdered poor Lady Mary.”

  Ceit stilled as her eyes darted to look for Deirdre’s cousin Elizabeth. She saw the young woman staring wildly at her. Her eyes round as saucers.

  “I did not see a Sinclair brother kill Lady Mary. Why would you assume one of them killed her? She was secretly lovers with a man who would kidnap and threaten his future wife. Is it not possible he turned on her too?” Ceit forced herself to annunciate to hide her burr.

  “Is that what you are saying happened?” Lady Allyson Elliot looked skeptically at her.

  “I say I did not see a Sinclair brother kill Lady Mary.” She looked blandly at the women and prayed that would be enough, but of course it was not.

  The women were like rabid dogs when they caught the scent of gossip. They would not relent until satisfied.

  “Just what did you see? Lady Deidre is hiding away with that so-called husband of hers. She was clearly never a lady if she is so easily swayed towards the barbarian.”

  Ceit’s smile was sweet as she stepped closer to the other young women.

  “I dinna recall ye saying he was a barbarian when ye were wondering what was under his plaid or whether all of him was proportionate. Wasna it ye, Allyson, who said ye would find out? Ye would tup either of the Sinclair brothers if ye imagined they’d toss yer skirts.”

  Ceit stepped back and smiled once again, but it did not reach her eyes.

  It stunned the other women into silence, staring between her and each other.

  “You were all cowering from Mary, fearing her waspish tongue, and now she is not here, you speak of her like a martyr.”

  “You should watch yourself, Ceit Comyn. It is not wise to speak ill of the dead.” Lady Allyson sniffed.

  “I am not speaking ill of her. I am making an observation.”

  “Why are you so loyal to the Sinclairs? Do not think no one noticed that you ran off with them. Perhaps you are bedding that other Sinclair,” Lady Arabella Johnstone questioned.

  “She certainly would not be the only woman bedding him,” Lady Cairren Kennedy snickered. “He’s bedded every widow or courtesan in the king’s court. Some many times over if rumors are to be believed.”

  “Aren’t all rumors based in at least some truth?” Lady Isabella chimed in.

  Ceit struggled to breathe and to keep any emotion from her face.

  He admitted as much. Why does it bother ye so much now? Ye dinna even want him? Ye are making a habit of lying to yerself. Ye’re naught but a dog in a manger. Ye dinna want him, but the idea of him with another woman burns like ye’re being raked over the coals. I dinna have any claim to him now. He may vera well be tupping one of those widows or courtesans as I stand here, and I would have naught to say aboot it. I’ve made a bluidy hard bed, and now I shall sleep in it alone.

  “Strike a nerve there, Lady Cathryn?” Lady Allyson crowed.

  “What’s that? My mind wandered to what might be served for the evening meal. I am not very good at listening to drivel. What does it matter who Lord Tavish may or may not have bedded in the past, or who he might be bedding at this moment?”

  “I would say you should care since you are set to marry him. Last I heard, Lady Sorcha had her sights set on him. She said he was the best lover she’s ever had.”

  The women giggled behind their hands as Ceit shrugged a shoulder and feigned indifference.

  “We are not betrothed, but I will pray for your souls. Properly brought up young ladies do not speak aloud such matters. You would do well to remember that at confession.”

  Ceit glided out of the gardens but wanted to run once she was clear of the hedges. She forced herself to walk at a stately pace. She was not sure where she was going. She did not want to return to her chamber because all of a sudden it seemed lonelier than it ever had before. Wandering the passageways was out of the question, and it was far too early to go to the Great Hall. She made her way towards the keep’s music chamber. She grew up playing the lute, and it still soothed her.

  She had one more corner to round before she would be in the passageway that held the music chamber. A woman’s laugh and the rumble of a man’s voice carried to her. She was too far away to understand them, but she was sure she recognized the deep baritone. She crept along the wall and held her skirts close to her legs to keep them silent.

  “Come now, Tavish, she does not have to find out,” wheedled a woman’s voice. “You aren’t married to her yet. That Sinclair honor will not be besmirched if we dally once or twice or ten times more. The petite fille will never learn of it.”

  “I will ken, Camille. That is more than enough. I am nae longer available for a dalliance. Ye are a beautiful woman. I am sure there are many men eager to pay ye court. Ye can have yer pick.”

  “I am sure I can, and that is why I choose you,” the husky French accent became more distinguishable as Ceit crept closer. She recognized the voice of one of the most sought-after French courtesans, Camille De La Monde.

  Camille of the world. More like Camille of the beds.

  Ceit tried not to snort at her own smarminess.

  “Mon chèr, this game of hard to get is growing tiresome. We both remember how much we enjoy each other’s company. I would be happy to show you how much I have missed you.”

  Ceit edged closer to the corner and leaned so one eye looked towards the couple. She watched as the woman reached for Tavish’s plaid, her hand open and ready to grasp his cock, but Tavish’s hand was quicker.

  “Lady De La Monde, I must refuse ye.”

  Not one to be turned down, she jerked her arm and pulled Tavish towards her. She stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck to kiss him, but he turned his face away. Her lips landed on his neck where she nipped and licked.

  Tavish pushed her back and wiped his neck. It was a move that had once titillated him and sent blood rushing to his cock. Now, the woman before him frustrated and disgusted him. He wanted nothing to do with a woman he had, now regrettably, bedded on more than one visit to court. Tavish was sure she snarled.

  “Wait and see, mon chèr. She will not keep you satisfied. Bed her a few times, and you will discover that she is like all proper ladies. Dull. She will not keep your passions fulfilled. You will wish you bedded me when you had a chance. You may find you’re too late. I might not be interested when you come sniffing around again.”

  “I can promise ye that I willna ever be bored or unsatisfied where Lady Ceit is concerned. She is more than I had hoped for and all I want.”

  Tavish stepped back and nodded as he moved to walk away.

  “Would it not be a shame if she learned about your recent trysts?”

  Tavish paused and turned around but before he said anything, a movement caught his eye. He wanted to sink into the floor. He was uncertain how much or what Ceit might have overheard, but the hard glint in her eyes did not bode well.

  “Lady Camille, I see you have detained my betrothed and made it easier for me to find him. If I am not mistaken
, though, he is eager to get away. I wonder if it is to find me. Or mayhap, he is just tired of you. You know what they say. Even silver loses its luster with age.” Ceit glided over and wrapped her arm around Tavish’s waist as his arm came around her shoulder. He pinned her to his side, and she did not fight it. Rather, she leaned into his embrace. “I am certain he appreciates the concern of such an old friend, but I am also certain I can ensure I am not— what was it you said—dull.”

  Ceit and Tavish watched as Lady Camille stalked off in a huff. When she was out of sight, Ceit pulled away from Tavish and glared at him.

  Tavish rolled his head back and looked at the ceiling.

  “Aye, lass?” he said when he was ready to deal with the inevitable onslaught.

  “Ye may have told me that ye had a past, one that ye wish ye were able to change, but ye might have warned me that everyone else kens aboot it too. I seem to be the only woman at court who didna ken ye’ve sampled every offering available.”

  Tavish stared down at her and waited, but when she said no more, he took his turn.

  “I was wrong in my estimations of ye. Ye arenae a little bee, as bees make sweetness despite their sting. Ye are a hornet. Ye buzz aboot and cause naught but pain.”

  “I cause pain? How do ye imagine I endured the other ladies-in-waiting crowing aboot yer conquests and how every woman kens ye, and better than I do? I come to find ye, and instead I find a woman throwing herself at ye. How do ye think that bluidy well feels?”

  “If ye saw her do that, then ye should have also seen me reject her. It should reassure ye that despite all else, I am still bluidy well choosing ye. I dinna ken why since the king said we need only wait out the moon, and then he will release us from the betrothal. Ye will be free of me. And ma past.”

  “I didna ask ye to turn her down for me. I didna ask aught of ye.”

  Tavish growled.

  “I ken ye didna. More fool am I for choosing to do it.”

  “And more fool am I for standing here having this conversation with ye when there is nay point. As ye said, ye need only wait out the moon, and then ye can be free of me.”

  Tavish saw her eyes fill with tears, and he reached for her. He was angry and hurt too, but he never intended to make her cry. She pulled away and shook her head. She turned glassy eyes to him and shook her head again before walking away.

  What now? Why am I even still trying? I could be sinking ma cock into Camille right now and losing maself between her thighs. But that idea makes me want to toss up ma accounts. I canna tolerate the idea of touching Camille or any other woman. What has Ceit done to me? I canna have her, but I dinna want anyone else either.

  Tavish decided to look for his uncle. Hamish offered advice nearly as sage as his father’s. If nothing else, Hamish would be good company over a few pints of ale or preferably several drams of whisky.

  Whisky. Her damn horse may vera well ruin the drink for me. I willna be able to savor it without remembering her.

  Tavish sensed he was being followed, but he had no sword to draw and little time to flick the dirks from his wrists before three men came barreling towards him. He slashed out with his right hand and caught one man across the throat, killing him. His left hand thrust forward as he put his blade through another man’s eye. A heavy weight pulled from behind as an arm wrapped around his throat.

  “Did you imagine I was here alone? Did you imagine when you left me alive that I would forget?”

  Tavish swung his body about and dislodged the man enough to force a space between them. Tavish used the opening to propel his knives backwards into each flank of the man who had first attacked Ceit and now him. As he pulled his knives free, a sudden pain crashed through his skull. He tried to shake the ringing from his ears, but the edges of his vision were black, and the shadows were merging. Another jarring blow to his head had him sinking to his knees and into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The queen’s page found Ceit before she retreated to the solitude of her chamber. She was forced to attend the royal in her solar with the other ladies-in-waiting giggling and staring at her. She wanted to be just about anywhere but there.

  I would rather be the main course at a fairy supper than here with these women.

  “Ah, yes. Lady Cathryn, it is a pleasure to see you returned to court. I only glimpsed you upon your return, but Magnus and Deirdre rather caught everyone’s attention. I have missed your reading. You have such a soft voice when you recite poetry. I would have you do so now.” The queen pointed to the stool beside her feet. The one that her feet had been resting upon only moments ago. Ceit nodded and took a book from the table beside the queen’s chair and arranged her skirts. She was just about to begin when a page rushed in. He whispered in the ear of the Lady of the Bedchamber, the head of the ladies-in-waiting. The older woman approached the queen and whispered to her. Ceit caught Tavish’s name and jerked her eyes up to the queen who was watching her.

  “It would seem the young man the king intended to marry you off to has had a spot of trouble. It is most fortunate that you were not in his company when he was attacked.” The queen watched Ceit’s reaction like a hawk waiting for a field mouse to appear.

  “Someone attacked Lord Tavish? Here in the castle?”

  “So, it would seem. Most dreadful.” The queen peered down her nose at Ceit. “I would have you recite the second poem from the end. It is a favorite of mine.”

  Ceit swallowed and bowed her head before speaking again.

  “Your Grace, I would ask your leave, so I might see to Lord Tavish. You are aware I have skills with the healing arts. I might be of help.”

  “The king’s physician is seeing to him. He does not need you.”

  The queen’s words cut deeply, but more so because they echoed the words she said to Tavish. Turnaround was fair play, and hopelessness was an ache that stole her breath.

  If this is how I made Tavish hurt, it’s nae small wonder he would ever speak to me again. What have I done? I pushed him so hard that he sought the king to end our betrothal. Then, instead of trying to convince him nae to leave me, I push him even farther away. Someone attacked him just after we parted. If I stayed with him, mayhap it wouldnae happened. Or mayhap he still would have been, but we would have fought back to back. I left him unprotected. I did this.

  “Lady Cathryn?”

  Ceit looked up at the queen through blurry eyes and tried to compose herself before looking down at the book she held. She opened her mouth to read, but no sound came out.

  “Very well. You are excused.” Ceit bowed and backed away as the queen whispered, “You are too late, gal. They will not admit you, and I imagine he will return home as soon as he is well.”

  Ceit’s throat pinched as though it was closing, and she made it out the door before she was clawing at the collar of her kirtle. She ran to a large urn and heaved into it. She did not try to muster any guilt. Her body purged itself of the little food she had that day. She nearly jumped out of her skin when a soft hand rubbed her back.

  “The queen is only testing you. She wanted to see if you care about Lord Tavish. Her Majesty and the king are partial to the Sinclairs.”

  Ceit gripped the sides of the urn as she looked back and found Elizabeth Fraser standing beside her. The other woman handed Ceit a handkerchief which she used to blot the perspiration from her forehead and the spittle from her mouth. She smiled wanly at the other woman.

  “Come with me and don’t dilly dally. We haven’t much time.”

  “Time? Where are we going?”

  “You’re going to see Tavish.”

  Ceit would have bristled at the familiar use of Tavish’s name if she did not see the honest concern in Elizabeth’s eyes. She nodded, and Elizabeth led them through the passageways until they entered Elizabeth’s chamber. She walked to the wall behind the bed and pushed aside the tapestry. She pressed somewhere on the wall, and a click sounded before the wall moved.

  �
�Follow me and stay close.” Elizabeth pushed the wall to reveal a doorway and dark corridor beyond. She lifted a lit sconce from beside her bed and raised it to illuminate the dark tunnel. She looked back once more before stepping forward. Ceit rushed to keep up. “Don’t talk. Voices carry both ways. You can listen to all that happens on the other side of these walls just as they can listen to you.”

  Elizabeth led them through the tangled maze of steps, slopes, and corridors that existed in the castle's skeleton. They stopped at a wall that appeared solid and like every other one Ceit saw for the past half an hour.

  “I grew up in this castle. I learned about these secret passageways when I was a child. Few of us are still here from those days, so few learn of them. The other ladies who use them do so to sneak off to their lovers. You can use them whenever you want to visit Tavish, but do not go by yourself. Not yet at least. It is easy to get lost and turned around in here. I cannot promise I would find you in time.” Elizabeth gave her a pointed look before pulling up a latch Ceit never would have spotted. The wall swung open to a dimly lit chamber empty except for the prone form on the bed.

  “I will be back for ye in two hours if I do not see you before that.” With that, Elizabeth resealed the secret portal.

  Ceit looked at Tavish and saw his hand move. She froze when she saw a blade in it.

  “Dinna fash, Ceit. I smell yer rosemary and thyme. I kenned it was ye before ye even looked over here. What are ye doing here?”

  Ceit inched closer to the bed and gasped when she saw Tavish’s bound head, blackened eyes, and the bandage wrapped around his bare ribs. She covered her mouth with her fingers.

  “Tav,” she moaned as she dropped onto her knees beside the bed. She clasped her hands and bowed her head in prayer.