The Highlander’s Demand

by Wine, Mary

  “Yer brother did not have me beaten, Cora.”

  “But he is laird. He brought ye here and can no’ protect ye.”

  “Matters such as these…can often be complicated,” Rhedyn said.

  “Ye are making excuses for me kin,” Cora argued. She reached out and grabbed the knife. “I won’t see ye being treated horribly here. I am the mistress of this stronghold, and I will see ye set free before something else happens.”

  Rather than struggle with the girl, Rhedyn released her grip on the knife.

  Cora smiled brightly as she held it up. “Now, come with me to the stables, Rhedyn.”

  The knife was jerked from her hand a second later as Buchanan emerged from the shadows of the passageway. “Cora.” he began tightly. “Get to yer chamber and stay there.”

  Cora’s temper flared. “Ye are horrible!” she exclaimed. “And I will never, ever be sorry for trying to help Mistress Lindsey, for it seems to be our fate to be used in settling men’s fights.”

  Buchanan wasn’t pleased with his sister’s outburst. “Graham…”

  “Aye, Laird,” the captain answered from further down the passageway. “I’ll escort Mistress Cora to her chamber.”

  “So ye will resort to treating me like a child when I choose to take action where ye claim ye cannot because ye are laird. Do nae think I will forget it, brother.” Cora snorted before she turned and disappeared from sight.

  “I am glad ye overheard that,” Rhedyn spoke once Cora and Graham’s steps faded.

  Buchanan glared at her. “Happy to see ye’ve inspired me sister to rebellion against her own clan?”

  Rhedyn lifted her chin, refusing to give an inch of ground.

  “It was so reckless of her. Ye must teach her the folly of trusting a stranger.”

  Cora’s flare of passion somehow got started inside Rhedyn. Shutting her mouth would have been wise, instead, she stepped toward Buchanan, intent on making him see her point.

  “Ye must…”

  “Ye must no’ attempt to escape, Rhedyn,” he growled as he clamped his hand across her mouth. “Outside the walls, some of me kin might take the opportunity to kill ye.”

  The sudden contact between them was shocking. The way he just put his hands on her was something she struggled to understand. All of her life there had been proper protocol between herself and men. Buchanan seemed to not know it existed.

  The boldness of that idea made her heart pound as though she was running. The contact between their skin was something she was keenly aware of.

  And she was not alone in her awareness of him.

  She watched his nostrils flare. His eyes narrowed as his hand slipped away from her mouth, gliding across her cheek and beneath her unbound hair to grasp her nape. He clasped her waist, pulling her against his body as he angled his face so he might press his lips against hers.

  She gasped, shifting as her body erupted with sensation. She flattened her hands against his chest, pressing against him as she tried to escape.

  Buchanan held her close as he kissed her. He held back his passion after she hesitated to respond to his kiss. The sensation was like a living force within her, beating its wings as it made ready to take flight.

  Suddenly, kissing him back became as necessary as her next breath. The hands she had pressed against his chest in defense, now drew in the warmth of his body, allowing her to feel the rapid beat of his heart. She wanted to live inside the moment.

  Buchanan suddenly withdrew, lifting his mouth from hers. “Sweet, lass,” he whispered roughly. He didn’t want to stop kissing her.

  That idea tormented her because she didn’t want to return to thinking about what they were doing. She wanted to immerse herself in the pleasure and forget every other detail surrounding them. But he pulled her to the base of the stairs.

  “Get up to yer chamber before I forget I once had a mother who taught me decency.” A moment later, he was cupping her shoulders. He sent her forward with a soft push. “Now, Rhedyn.”

  Her mind suddenly snapped back into the present. She dashed up the stairs and through the chamber door, slipping because she went so carelessly. One knee twisted slightly as she fought to keep her balance. She stood still, feeling her cheeks burn and a tingle on her lips.

  She was losing her sanity.

  There was no other explanation for the way she’d enjoyed his kiss. What horrified her was the fact that it wasn’t her first kiss. No, she’d been pushed into a dark alcove just a season before as Rolfe Munro tried his luck at impressing her.

  He’d failed.

  His attention hadn’t moved her. She’d balled up her hand and rubbed her knuckles roughly against his breastbone as her father’s captain had taught her in order to defend herself. Rolfe hadn’t yelped as the captain had promised, but he’d broken off the kiss and fixed her with a frustrated look.

  Why should one man’s kiss be so vastly different from another’s? Rolfe Munro was every bit as tall and handsome as Buchanan.

  And Rolfe hadn’t kidnapped her.

  He’d sat at the high table and offered for her hand, seeking a marriage which made sense for the benefits it would bring both their clans. His kiss had left her feeling in full control of her senses.

  Buchanan’s had muddled her mind so fast, she was forced to admit it to herself.

  Suddenly, Cora’s plan wasn’t so unreasonable after all.

  *

  He needed to control himself. But Rhedyn’s taste lingered on his lips. It made him aware of an appetite he hadn’t realized he had for her. He stared at the entrance to her chamber.

  It was just a door…

  “Ye’ll be wanting to come away now, Laird.”

  Buchanan jerked back. Graham was in the stairwell, toying with the end of his gray beard.

  “I sent ye with Cora.”

  “Aye.” Graham responded with a nod. “But the lass can find the way to her chamber, for she is no’ a child. Ye on the other hand…well…the look in yer eyes tells me ye need a wee bit of encouragement to get yerself to where ye need to be going.”

  Buchanan glared at his captain.

  “Well now, lad,” Graham continued. “I suppose we could just discuss the matter of what ye might do with that little lass inside that chamber. Of course, if ye go inside, there will be no going back.”

  Buchanan was suddenly moving away from the door. He growled on his way down the stairwell.

  But his captain caught him at the base of the stairs. Graham looked both ways to ensure they were alone before he leaned in closer. “Do nae let yer pride be wounded, Laird. I’ve a wee bit more experience in life than ye. I’m content to follow ye, but since yer father is no’ here, it also falls to me to speak the truth on the matter we have in front of us.”

  Graham’s tone cut through Buchanan’s attempt to hide his feelings. A laird needed to maintain his appearance of being in control, but right there in the passageway with the afternoon shadows beginning to grow long and dark, well, it seemed more arrogant than anything else to refuse to discuss the subject.

  “I did the wrong thing for the right reasons,” Buchanan confessed. “Taking that lass from her father. I never thought I’d have to resort to doing something like it.”

  “Aye, Hamish pressed ye sure enough,” Graham agreed. “Ye avoided bloodshed.”

  “But at the cost of depriving the lass of her freedom.”

  “Every daughter of a laird will find herself facing an arrangement made on what it brings her clan,” Graham remarked. “Yer need to see justice prevail is to yer credit. However, there is business to be done, and ye had to settle the score with the Lindsey or face the disgruntlement of yer men.”

  “Are ye telling me the lass was bound for an arranged marriage, so I shouldn’t worry too much about stealing her?” Buchanan asked to clarify. “Knowing such will absolve me of guilt. There is precious little evidence to convict Colum Lindsey of betraying us. Iain was a hothead, and ye know it as well as I do.”

&nb
sp; “Aye, it’s a fact that I was glad to no’ be at Iain’s back,” Graham said. “But ye’re no’ a lad. Ye understand that being laird often means ye must make decisions based on what is best for the clan. Someone loses in those situations, lasses most often. But a woman can accept such a situation better than a man. As for the Lindsey lass…”

  Graham looked up the stairwell and twisted the ends of his beard.

  “I do nae need suggestions on what to do with her,” Buchanan said. It wasn’t the wisest thing he might have done. Graham had experience on his side, which meant the man’s words were given respect by other members of the clan.

  Graham slapped him on the back. “Aye, ye know what to do with her. But the devil is in the details.”

  Buchanan started down the passageway, and Graham followed.

  “As Colum Lindsey’s daughter and the other one only half grown,” his captain began, “breeding a son on her would be advantageous. As a mistress, that would suit the men who believe her father is guilty of betraying Iain. Leave the girl without the respect of being yer wife as retribution to her father.”

  “Are ye telling me to have no compassion for a child of mine who would be bastard born?” Buchanan demanded. “Be done, man.”

  “And allow ye to think ye have the matter in hand?” Graham asked. “Ye do nae, lad. Ye’ve had a taste of her now. Why do ye think I came after ye? I see the fire in yer eyes. And as for the little lass, well, she’ll bend to yer demands seeking protection. The lassies always do, ye know. That’s why ye should no’ worry too much about why she landed here. A lass is meant to adjust. I tell ye to come away, so ye can make yer decision concerning her with a clear head.”

  Buchanan’s head was clearing.

  The trouble was, the desire to turn around and pull Rhedyn back into his arms wasn’t dimming in the least. That desire burned like a great fire in the middle of winter.

  He had unlimited access to Rhedyn if he so chose.

  The knowledge needled him as he forced himself to continue walking away from her. What kind of beast had he turned into? When had his manners gone astray? It was unlike him, especially the lust burning in his blood for one lass over another.

  *

  Castles always had dark alcoves.

  Cora felt the cold stone of the wall against her back as Graham and Buchanan passed by.

  Women were meant to adjust?

  She bit her lower lip to contain the scoff that rose from her chest.

  She would never bend.

  Graham, Buchanan, Hamish, well, they could all forget their plans to send her to the Grants as a sacrificial lamb. She stood in the passageway facing the fact that what had once been her home was now crumbling around her. All of the love she’d always taken for granted was naught more than a façade.

  Meant to adjust?

  What a way to say her happiness wasn’t as important as the business of the clan. For just a moment, she felt a sting of guilt, for part of her recognized the value of sacrifice for the greater good. She was the laird’s daughter. Her position came with many privileges, but there was also responsibility to help secure peace through her marriage.

  So, should she just accept everything as Graham seemed to think she should?

  Rebellion bubbled up inside her. It was intertwined with resentment against those who already deemed her future as something she didn’t need to choose.

  Rhedyn faced a similar, unjust fate…

  And Cora had failed to help her.

  She’d better get a grasp on her emotions before she lost the chance to make a difference. No one would take her seriously until she showed them something worthy of respecting.

  Helping Rhedyn escape was a fine place to start, and it would be good practice, for there was no way she was going to be presented to the Grants against her will.

  *

  “What do ye mean by allowing that Lindsey bitch to stay in the north tower?”

  Buchanan’s irritation doubled as Hamish issued his demand the moment Buchanan made it into the hall.

  “Welcome back, cousin,” Buchanan muttered.

  Hamish didn’t change his challenging stance, but at least a few of the men intent on backing him up appeared to have a bit of shame over just how rude the man was behaving.

  “Some welcome.” Hamish spit on the floor. “Shall I look forward to seeing her sitting at the head table tonight? Dining as though she’s some honored guest? While Iain is rotting in his grave? Along with every Mackenzie who rode with him?”

  Maids had appeared at every opening of the hall to get a good look at what the argument was about. Buchanan walked toward his cousin but stopped several paces from him.

  “I would no’ have chosen to have a public confrontation over this matter, Hamish, but I will no’ shirk from the fight ye are clearly intent on picking with me. Since ye are yelling at me, ye can tell me here and now what evidence ye have against Colum Lindsey.”

  Hamish took a moment before responding. “He was at the Sow’s Troth.”

  “Was he the only one in the tavern?”

  “He seemed to be running the place sure enough from the way I heard it,” Hamish said. “Threw Iain out.”

  “For what reason?” Buchanan asked.

  “Does it matter?”

  “It does,” Buchanan answered firmly. “The Sow’s Troth caters to different clans. Iain was known for his temper. If he was asked to leave because he was picking a fight, Colum was acting within his rights to keep his night from being ruined.”

  Hamish’s eyes narrowed. Buchanan reached forward and cupped the man on the shoulder.

  “I would have someone answer for the crime but only the guilty one.” Buchanan gazed at the men standing behind his cousin. “It’s a solid fact that Iain was no’ known for being very interested in winning the favor of the women he kept company with. Even I know what other services the Sow’s Troth offers. I also understand the rules of the place. Iain would have found it difficult to comply.”

  Buchanan watched as several of the men shifted on their feet. Doubt was making its way through their minds.

  “And when there is solid proof?” Hamish demanded.

  Buchanan gripped his belt. “What would ye have me promise, Hamish? Am I some bloody savage to declare to one and all that I will spill that girl’s blood?”

  “Aye!”

  Buchanan growled. “Enough! Do nae raise yer voice to me again. There will be no murder done here so long as I am laird.”

  Hamish didn’t like his words.

  Buchanan sent his man a look which made it plain he had no taste for the way he was demanding blood. The need to shelter Rhedyn grew stronger.

  “Mind me, Hamish.” Buchanan lowered his voice so their words remained between them. “There will be no vengeance inside this stronghold while I am laird of the Mackenzie.”

  *

  Hamish watched Buchanan leave. His temper turned blistering hot. Innis knew what it looked like on a man. Rage was something a woman was wise to understand the warning signs of. She hung back, but her mind was racing with ideas. All she needed to do was carefully plan and utilize the resources she had.

  Una passed by on the way to the bathhouse. There was a look of reluctant acceptance on her face.

  “I’ll see to Hamish,” Innis told her.

  Una’s eyes brightened, and Innis came closer and smiled. “I see ye have no liking for the duty.”

  “It’s no’ the scrubbing of his back I refuse to do….” Una’s voice squeaked with embarrassment as her cheeks turned red. “It’s just… Young Cory treats me well, and Fenella promised to arrange a match between us. But now, she orders me to the bathhouse.”

  “Go on. Stay out of sight for a bit,” Innis told the girl.

  Una nodded and hugged Innis before hurrying away.

  Innis went toward the bathhouse, opened the door, and stepped inside.

  “I was expecting the blonde,” Hamish said.

  He was already disrobing, his member s
ticking out. Men were forever proud of their appendages. Innis had no understanding as to why.

  “Cory has plans to wed her,” she remarked softly as she pulled one of the kettles from where it was heating in the fire. “He’s yer man.” She met Hamish’s gaze.

  He grunted. Innis looked back down as she poured the boiling water into the tub.

  “Come here, woman,” he ordered in spite of her subtle warning.

  Innis looked at him again. “I came to do ye a different sort of service.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  “Ye’ll no’ last long in command of yer men if they feel ye do nae have any respect for who they consider their women.”

  Hamish would never tell her he agreed. No, he had far too much pride for that. Still, a man who could be led by his pride had uses.

  “I meant for ye to unlace me boots, woman.”

  Hamish sat down on a stool and waited for her to approach. She began to work the laces free from his shoes. They were caked with mud and stiff from long hours in the cold.

  “What manner of service do ye offer?” he asked once his boots were off.

  Innis studied his face briefly before she turned and went back to the hearth to pull another pot of water off the fire. Lust and ambition were both flickering in his eyes. As she poured the water into the tub, she looked through the cloud of steam which rose up between them.

  “The laird can nae deal directly with the Lindsey bitch. I do nae believe it means he favors being soft on her.” Innis used a paddle to stir the water. “Appearances among the other lairds are important.”

  Hamish came over and settled into the tub. Innis used a bowl to dip up some water and pour it over his shoulders. He flexed and rotated his arms.

  “Are ye suggesting we take care of the matter for the laird?” he asked.

  “For Iain.”

  Hamish grunted in approval of her answer. He leaned forward so she could scrub his back. For a long time, there was only the sound of splashing water in the room. But once she finished with his back, he boldly grasped her hand and tried to place it over his member.