Highland Brawn (The Band of Cousins Book 8)

by Keira Montclair

  He didn’t know how to help her.

  When their group had thinned, Roddy and Braden moved to a table with him.

  “So what is your plan, Connor? What exactly is your relationship with Sela?” Roddy asked.

  “I don’t know, honestly. I am developing strong feelings for her, but I don’t have any idea what’s on her mind.”

  Braden said, “I imagine she’s having a difficult time absorbing all the changes. She was under the Channel’s control for a long time, was she not? I know it took Cairstine some time to adjust to freedom. But I think repairing Muir Castle helped her. It allowed her to focus on something outside herself.”

  Roddy asked, “Does she have family or was she part of a clan?”

  “Nay, ’tis part of the reason she was in her situation. Her sire was a Scot of Clan Seton, her mother was Norse. The original Dubh men, Granville and DeVere, killed her parents and kidnapped her five years ago. ’Tis the only life she’s known since.”

  “I wish Rose were here. She’d know what to do to help her. It was hard for her to believe she deserved happiness after living under her mother’s control for so long.”

  Connor found himself nodding. “She hasn’t said those exact words, but I can see the doubt in her eyes. She’s ecstatic to see Claray so happy, but I don’t think she believes she deserves the same.”

  “You’ve a tough path ahead of you,” Roddy said, “but if your feelings are strong, ’twill be worth it.”

  Connor pushed away from the table. “I think I’ll head up to my chamber. You know where you are sleeping? There’s one pallet in my chamber either of you are welcome to use.”

  “We have two beds, and after all the grounds I’ve slept on of late, I look forward to a good night of sleep,” Braden said. “Unfortunately, ’tis in a chamber with this fool and not my wife, but I’ll see her soon enough.”

  Roddy wrapped his arms around Braden with a big grin. “I’m not sweet enough for you, cousin?” he asked, batting his lashes.

  Braden snorted and shoved him away.

  Connor laughed as he made his way up the stairs. He loved his cousins. They knew the art of jesting. He crept down the passageway, pleased to hear everything quiet. Peace was theirs at last.

  He also loved the woman inside that chamber, but he would give her the space she seemed to need. Once he found his chamber and doffed his clothes, leaving his plaid nearby, he settled onto the bed, knowing he’d fall asleep quickly.

  His last thoughts were of a white-haired nymph with ice blue eyes.

  ***

  Connor bolted up out of his bed, grabbing his plaid out of habit and wrapping it around his bare body. What the hell was that noise? The answer came to him in a trice.

  Sela was caught in a nightmare.

  He crept into the passageway, pleased there was no one else awake yet, and reached for her door. It was locked, but Sela threw the bolt back and charged out of the chamber, nearly knocking him over.

  “Spiders!” she yelled.

  “Hush, sweetling,” he whispered, lifting her up into his arms and carrying her back into her chamber. He sat on the bed and cradled her on his lap.

  The door had barely closed when Connor’s sire opened it again, wide-eyed.

  “She’ll be fine, Papa. A nightmare.” He waved his sire away.

  “Spiders, more spiders,” Sela muttered. “Kill them all, please.”

  Alex looked deeply concerned, but he nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him. Connor’s focus was on Sela, who finally seemed to register he was with her. Resting her head on his shoulder, she whispered, “Spiders, Connor. I dreamed there were spiders everywhere. Will this never end? Is Hord still alive? Will he come after me?”

  “Sweetling, I checked the chamber for spiders before I left. Shall I check again? I’ll light the tallow and check all the corners, even under the bed.”

  “Do you mind? I’m so sorry, but if even one crawls on me, I think it awakens me. I know ’tis impossible to rid a castle of all of them, but if they’d just stay away the nightmares might end. Connor, what will I do?”

  Connor kissed her forehead and set her down on the side of the bed. He grabbed a tallow and lit it from the torch in the passageway, waving to his sire, who was just returning to his chamber.

  Once back inside, Connor checked all the corners. He found and killed one small spider, but he doubted that had set her off. He knew what had caused her screaming.

  She’d been dreaming of Hord, the hoarder of spiders.

  When he finished his examination, he returned the tallow to its holder then sat down on the bed again. He settled her back on his lap, angling her sideways so she could lean her head on his shoulder.

  “Forgive me,” she whispered, her voice full of frustration.

  “I don’t blame you. It’s little wonder you dream of spiders. I’d wake up screaming every night had I endured half of the suffering you’ve been subjected to.”

  She smiled at him. “Your scream probably wouldn’t carry the way mine does. I fear I woke everyone up.”

  “Only my sire, but he’s gone back to bed. I didn’t hear anything from the lassies’ chamber so I don’t think you awakened them.”

  Her smile slipped. “Connor, I don’t know what to do. Will I always have to live with this?”

  He sighed, mostly because he wanted to offer her a solution—and yet, he didn’t have one. “With time, the number of nightmares you have will probably dissipate. But I’m afraid it will take a while. I suspect the more nights you sleep without awakening, the fewer episodes you’ll have.”

  “But how can I make that happen?”

  “I would like to hold you while you sleep. Will that not soothe you?”

  She sat up and stared at him. “But if everyone finds out, they’ll be upset. Your parents, Lady Brenna. They’ll all think I’m…”

  He set his finger against her lips. “Do not say that word, and they know you’re not. There is naught wrong with comforting you, and you are not a maiden. Besides, I’ll sneak out early if ’twill make you feel better.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.” He kissed her so thoroughly that he couldn’t hide his feelings any longer. “I say we enjoy each other whenever we can.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Connor Grant,” Sela whispered. “I feel you.” She ran her hands across his shoulders and down his arms. “I think you need to remove that plaid and climb into bed.”

  She stood and removed her night rail, setting it on the chest at the end of the bed. His plaid joined it. He stepped toward her, his hands reaching to cup her breasts as a low growl erupted from him, though he stopped it quickly, not wanting to frighten her. His thumbs teased her nipples until they peaked, causing her to squirm beneath his touch.

  His lips went to her neck and he trailed kisses across her fine bone to the pulse under her chin. “Have I told you yet how much I love that you are tall and nearly look me in the eye?”

  “Nay,” she rasped, her breath catching as she clung to him. “I always hated being this tall.”

  “No more. I want you to love being this tall because of how nicely we fit together.” His hands moved to her back and he tugged her close, skin to skin, and stared into her eyes as he moved his hands over her bottom, caressing her ever so lightly until she wiggled against him.

  “That will not help me at all,” he teased.

  She said, “Then get into bed and I will help you.”

  He gave her a challenging look and climbed into the bed. He lay flat on his back and clasped his hands behind his head. Still whispering because they wished to keep their movements quiet, he waited until she climbed in next to him to speak. “And what exactly did you have in mind?”

  She knelt on the bed and crawled to him, positioning herself over him, then dipped her head until her tongue touched the tip of his manhood.

  “Hellfire,” was all he could say.

  Her tongue teased him a few more times and it w
as all he could do not to yell out. Then she dipped her head even farther and took him full in her mouth, her tongue still teasing him as she moved, one hand reaching over to caress his sacks.

  He allowed her to play for a few moments, then reached for her arms and guided her up to straddle him, his hands reaching to knead her breasts as her breath caught. “No more torture, tall lady. Mount me, please, before I lose it like a laddie.”

  She reached for him, running her hand up and down the hard surface of his chest, then slipped him inside her with a slight moan, doing it slowly until he was fully seated. Once they were joined, he pulled her down so he could kiss her, their tongues dueling in the same magical rhythm as their bodies. She stroked him just the way he liked it, but after all her foreplay, he couldn’t take much more. His hands reached for her bottom, grasping her tightly, and she came with a violence that shook him, his lips still on hers to dampen the sound of her climax.

  Then he lost all control, though he bit back his urge to yell as she clenched around him, her contractions milking every last bit of his seed out of him.

  They lay in silence together, coming down from their ecstasy, her head on his chest while he rubbed her back. “Heavens above, we are wonderful together.”

  “Aye, we are.” Her finger traced a path around his nipple, across his chest, and up to his jaw. “Is it always like this for you with others?”

  “Nay, you are the only one for me.”

  She sighed, her warm breath teasing him. “What are you thinking?” he asked, his hand running through the silky strands of her hair.

  “What’s to become of us?”

  “Well, this wasn’t exactly how I’d planned to ask, but I love you and I’m hoping you’ll marry me.”

  She lifted her head and set her chin in her hand, catching his gaze. “Oh, Connor,” she said after a moment. “I meant what I said the other day. I’m not the type of lass you should marry.”

  His finger moved to stroke her chin. “I think I’m the only one who can judge whom I should marry, and I choose you.” He had to convince her that her thinking was all wrong.

  “But you should marry a lass who is of noble blood, one who can bear you many sons.”

  “And I think I should marry the lass of my choosing. My grandmama made my father promise to allow my aunts to choose their own husbands. Think you he would offer any less to his own children?”

  She rested her head back onto his chest. Her eyes had shuttered, and he could not read her thoughts. All he could do was speak his truth.

  “My family is well-known for loving once and loving powerfully. I will not change my mind. If you need time to adjust to the changes in your life, I will wait for you. And I also promise to love and raise Claray as if she were mine.”

  Her hand settled on his side. “Do you think I’m capable of loving someone?

  “You love your daughter, do you not?”

  “’Tis different.” She looked down. “A good person wouldn’t have done the things I did. I still have much to atone for.”

  He lifted her chin so their eyes met. “If your parents had not been killed, would you have run away to join the Channel of Dubh?”

  She lifted her head in shock. “Nay, of course not.”

  “Listen to me. Did you give yourself freely to those men?”

  “Nay, Connor, of course not. They raped me.” He could see the misting in her eyes at the thought of what she’d endured.

  “And after you had your daughter, you sacrificed your own moral upbringing, your own definition of right and wrong, so your daughter would not know pain. ’Tis the ultimate sacrifice, in my opinion. You are a victim, naught more, naught less. You need to start recognizing that.” His hand cupped her face, his thumb reaching up to wipe her tears.

  “I could have fought harder for the lasses. While I ensured they were fed and always had somewhere clean to sleep, I did not speak out enough against the beatings. I...I did not know about the sale of lads and lasses until the end, but I should have figured it out before I did... Mayhap I could have stopped it.”

  He lifted her chin to look into his eyes. “Think you they would have listened to you? What happened to you when you stood up for Linet in Edinburgh? Do you not understand that they would have found someone else to do their bidding had you refused?”

  The tears flowed freely, but he hoped it was because he’d made his point.

  She swallowed hard and shook her head. “It would not have mattered. In that much, you are correct. I can only hope the Lord judges me the same way you do.”

  “Sweetling, if you’d like to speak to an abbess or a priest, I’m happy to arrange that for you. My aunt Jenny married Aedan Cameron and they protect Lochluin Abbey. ’Tis about halfway between here and Grant land. We’ll stop there on the way. Spend as much time as you need with them. ’Tis as I said, I’ll wait for you.”

  She rested her head back down on his chest, her tears leaving a puddle on his skin. “If I’m capable of loving someone, ’tis how I feel about you, Connor Grant. I love you.”

  His heart soared at her words, only to plummet a second later.

  “But I cannot marry you.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  When she awakened next, she was still lying in Connor’s arms, though both of them were on their sides. After telling him that she couldn’t marry him, she’d feared he would leave her, but he had stayed. Never had she felt as safe as she did in his arms.

  She could give him a vague promise because she thought she might eventually accept his proposal, but then she thought of her promise to his mother. She vowed not to lead him on or accept until she was certain.

  It was only right.

  He smoothed a few stray hairs off her forehead. “Are you awake, beautiful?”

  She opened her eyes and smiled. “Aye, my thanks for staying with me.”

  “Of course. I love you, and that will never change.”

  “Never? Are you sure? Even after what I said last night?”

  “Even after that. Before I take my leave, I must ask what you would like to do. I accept what you said, although I hope you will change your mind, but I know not where you would like to live. You may stay here if you like, or we can arrange for you to have your own cottage on Grant land. ’Tis your choice.”

  She’d lain awake for a long time considering exactly that, and her mind was made up. “I’d like to go to Lochluin Abbey with Claray. I think I may like to become a nun.”

  To his credit, he didn’t laugh as she’d thought he might. Instead, he said, “As you wish. We will take some guards with us and I’ll escort you. I know my aunt and uncle would be happy to help you should you need anything.”

  “That would be lovely.”

  He got up and put his plaid on, but she couldn’t let him go like that. He’d done too much for her.

  “Connor,” she whispered as she moved closer to him, climbing out of the bed and pulling her night rail on.

  When he looked at her, his gaze was full of emotion. For her. He felt all of that for her. It was a humbling and terrifying thought.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m confused and ’tis the only place I can think of where I might receive the guidance I need. Please don’t hate me.”

  He stood close enough to run his hand down her jawline, the caress an aching reminder of all she stood to lose. “Hate you? Never. I will always love you and wish the best for you. But I’m furious at what those Channel men did to you and the rest of their victims. And aye, you were a victim. Not just to Hord but to all of them. The saddest part for me is I have no idea how to help you. I wish I did, but I am at a loss. So all I can say is I support you in this quest, and I will wait for you.”

  His words gave her a hope she didn’t deserve, but she would take it, even if it was only a flickering candle’s worth.

  “I cannot expect you to wait for me. I can’t promise I’ll return. I may choose to take my vows.” While the words rushed from her mouth, they hadn’t come from her hear
t. She did want him to wait for her. She could only pray he would. And she could only pray that her heart and soul would heal enough that she could focus on loving this man, her greatest desire.

  “I have no choice, Sela. I know I’ll never love another. I’m grateful to have found you, but I would never force you to do anything. You must live your life the way you wish.”

  He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and left.

  Her heart broke into pieces, yet she couldn’t bring herself to call him back. The guilt and horrible memories plagued her terribly.

  She lay in her bed like an empty shell of a person until Claray came in and hopped in next to her.

  ***

  Sela stopped her horse just outside the abbey. Connor had insisted she be given a horse of her own so she could ride whenever she wished. Since she’d already denied him so much, she’d found herself unable to object. Claray rode with Connor, her new puppy in a small box on her lap. Torrian, the leader of Clan Ramsay, raised most of the puppies himself and had offered the lassie her choice of the litter. Although Claray had been reluctant to leave her new friends, his gift had softened her pain. She’d chose the runt of the litter, male, though she hadn’t named him yet.

  Before they dismounted, Connor pointed to a place for the guards to go so he could have a private word with Sela. He then lowered Claray from the saddle, handing her down to Sela with a gentleness that made Sela wish to cry.

  “I think you better put your puppy down so he can relieve himself,” Sela said, kissing her head. Her wee daughter scampered over to a patch of grass and set the pup down, watching his every move.

  Connor brushed her cheek. “You’re absolutely certain this is what you wish to do?”

  Although she was as nervous about this as she’d been about childbirth, she nodded her agreement. “I apologize again for hurting you. But I feel quite strongly that this is right for me. ’Tis the only way I can make it right.”

  The door opened and a priest waved to them. He was of average height, though his shoulders were a bit rounded, and his dark hair was streaked with gray. His eyes were as kind as any Sela had ever seen. Judging by the way Connor’s demeanor brightened, he knew the man. “Greetings to you, Father MacGregor,” he said. “I’d like you to meet a friend, Sela Seton. She’s come to talk with the abbess about the possibility of taking her vows.”