by Mary Wine
Brina was certain she had never been so tired in her entire life. Her eyes burned in spite of the chilly air, and her neck muscles felt as though they were too weak to hold her head up any longer. If she had slipped off the horse to the ground, she would have slept where she landed, because she didn’t think that she could do anything more than collapse.
“Look there, lass… That’s Birch Stone, our destination.”
“Ye are pleased to be home.” She was too tired to think about what was wise to say or not. Ahead of them, lights twinkled, looking warm and inviting.
“Aye, I am, lass. Birch Stone is a strong castle. Ye can see the sea from the top of the towers, and that allows the salt air to blow through the towers. It is a fine place to make yer home.”
He was proud of it too. She couldn’t miss the pride that edged his words, but it was not the sort she had learned to dislike. There was the pride that a man truly earned, and then there was the sort that was nothing but empty greed for respect that those men didn’t want to go to the trouble of earning.
Brina looked at the towers rising up against the night sky. They looked cold, and a chill traveled down her spine in response. She wasn’t sure why she thought they looked cold, for she had been raised inside a fortress very similar. Birch Stone had five towers rising to different heights. A curtain wall was built between them, and she could see that there were two sections to the castle, one upper area that had three towers and another curtain wall that sloped down from those to protect it further from land assault. The farthest towers were imposing, and her heart sank as she contemplated trying to escape from them. Not only would she have to make it out of the towers and through the inner yard, there would be another yard with overlooking towers to cross before freedom might be hers. High cliffs rose on either side of the walls at a midpoint too, making the castle look like an extension of the mountains.
“There will be a warm hearth and something to sup on, I promise ye that, lass.”
Brina felt guilty for the bitterness that rose from her in response to his words. Every soul had the right to be happy when they returned home, but she felt nothing except scorn for the welcome Connor spoke of. Exhaustion nipped at every inch of her body and even felt as though it were soaked into her bones, but still she cast a look behind her, searching for some sign of an escape from the fortress looming in front of her.
“Ye have quite a number of promises for me, but I wonder why ye expect me to trust in yer word when ye will make good on it only after I have broken my promise to my father and kin. Calling me names does no’ change that, Connor Lindsey.”
She heard Connor make a low sound beneath his breath. “Do ye really long for the life of a nun so much?”
“That is too personal a thing to ask. Ye have no right to ask me such a question.”
“No right? I am going to be yer husband.” His tone was rich with determination. “If ye will but let go of some of yer stubbornness, love might grow in yer heart for our union.”
He was trying to tempt her again, his voice deep and husky. Part of her admired his dedication, but it was not enough to drown out the years of being taught to obey her father.
“The church brings order to Scotland. If I turn my back on my place there, how can any of us expect others to serve? There would be nothing but war without the church to keep peace.”
“Becoming my wife will place alliances between the Chattan, McLeod, and Lindsey. Those three clans will make the Douglas think twice about raiding any of us and trying to absorb more territory.”
“That is something that ye crave, but the church is bigger than any single clan; that is why they are able to keep peace.”
One day Connor would be old, and if no one respected that he was laird, he might be run through so that another could take his place. Any children she gave him would be thrown from the towers she looked at because of their blood. When monarchs fell, the land was often full of anarchy.
“And ye are one daughter, Brina. Changing yer destiny will nae unravel the fabric of Scotland.”
“Ye insult me be saying that.”
He blew out a hard breath. “Not so, Brina, for the very fact that ye are virtuous is why I took ye. Keeping ye is a compliment, and that’s a fact, for ye are worthy.”
“What I am is yer revenge against Melor Douglas.”
She muttered the words as her heart began to sink into despair. Her mind was full of dark tidings, and she didn’t have any strength left to push them aside.
They had reached the entrance to the gate between the front two towers. Up on the curtain walls, fires were set to illuminate anyone approaching the fortress. There would also be archers up there, with their arrows notched and ready to let loose if the captain of the watch gave the order. With darkness fully fallen, anyone riding up to the gate would be considered suspicious. Such was a healthy attitude for any fortress on the coast as well as so far north.
“Ye have one fact correct, lass. I do have what I sought, and I plan to keep ye. If it must be against yer will, so be it, for I will have my Chattan bride.” He slid a hard arm around her body, binding her against him while he pulled his stallion up so that they might be identified. He let out another owl’s screech, long and loud, while his men held their horses steady behind him.
A faint ringing sounded from atop one of the towers, and it was answered by another bell down on the curtain wall. The ringing began to spread along the wall until a steady chiming filled the air. A heavy groan sounded from the curtain wall. Brina heard it as much as she felt it vibrating through the air. The thick chains that raised and lowered the iron gate began to wind, filling the air with the loud sound of metal colliding with metal. The arm around her waist held her against a body that was just as solid as the gate rising up in front of her. Connor didn’t wait for the way to be completely cleared. He leaned down, pressing her against the neck of his horse so that they could ride beneath the gate that was still only half-risen. His men sent up a cheer, both from outside and from within the fortress. She heard it echoing along the curtain wall and from the arrow slits high up in the towers too.
The sound terrified her because it magnified just how helpless she was now that she was surrounded by Lindsey retainers who so clearly approved of their laird’s bringing her into their castle.
Combined with the hard body pressing her down, she felt more like a prisoner than she ever had. Panic tore at her, making it impossible to remain still. She struggled against everything because she felt as though she could not breathe. The sound of the horse’s hooves against the packed dirt of the outer yard was too much for her to bear, and she couldn’t remain poised and collected.
Connor snorted next to her ear, his arm tightening as he sat up straight again. There wasn’t even an inch allowed between them, and she strained to break away from his body.
“I cannae breathe!”
The second gate was already rising to welcome the laird home, and Connor rode through it without hesitation. He dropped the reins and used his second arm to clamp around her, because she was tearing at his forearm in her quest for space between them.
“I should have left ye tied.”
His voice was low and full of irritation, but that did not deter her from struggling to gain freedom from his embrace.
“All the better to force me to yer will… is that it?”
The stallion came to a stop in the inner courtyard, and Connor snorted with what sounded like rising temper. Brina tossed her head and shoved at his arms again, her own demeanor anything but sedate.
“What are ye saying, Brina? That ye have a preference for rope biting into yer flesh? Somehow I doubt it.”
“Do nae, for it is the truth. I swear I like it more than yer arms about me.”
And she meant every word at that moment. One of his men approached them, lifting his hands to help her off the stallion. Connor unlocked his
imprisoning arms at long last, and she took instant advantage of the freedom. She slipped down the side of the animal, delighted not to have a saddle to contend with, which made it simple to push herself off the top of the beast. Her own body weight took her the rest of the way to the ground in a quick motion that startled the horse.
It wasn’t the wisest thing she might have done while in the midst of so many full stallions. Her skirts flipped up, causing many of the animals to toss their heads and pull against those holding their reins.
“Are ye mad, woman?”
Connor jumped down and grabbed her arm in a grip that stung for the first time. He propelled her out of the way of the horses with a hold that allowed her no choice. That gained him a hiss from her as her temper flared up. Brina didn’t bother to quell her mood, because she feared that the only other thing she might do was collapse into a weeping mound at his feet. It was fight or complete surrender, and it felt as though there were nothing in between.
“Mad? Ye dare to ask if I am insane. Ye are the one stealing from the church! That is madness, sir! It is—”
“It is done!” Connor made a slashing motion with his hand as his voice echoed off the stone walls of the fortress. He released her to do it, and Brina discovered herself standing firm in the face of his displeasure. She kept her chin held high as she snarled back in response to his words.
“No, it is nae!”
Brina could feel the eyes of his men on them, but she refused to care. Let him be repulsed by her defiance and lack of respect for his position and gender.
“Send me to the abbey, for I will nae obey ye, Connor Lindsey.”
She had never spoken so brazenly before, and a surge of power burned through the exhaustion that had been threatening to buckle her knees.
Connor suddenly chuckled, and the sound was not a kind one.
“We’ll be seeing about that, lass.”
He moved faster than she recalled him being able to. Maybe it was the darkness, but one moment he was staring down at her from his greater height, and the next he had lunged across the space between them and clamped his hands about her waist. She gasped and dug her feet into the dirt to move away from him, but he tossed her up and over his shoulder with a single powerful motion of his arms.
No human should find it so easy to carry another.
“I’ll bid ye all good night, for I have a need to settle my bride inside, lads!”
A cheer rose up around them, making her sputter with fury. She hung over his shoulder like a sack of grain, but Brina had no intention of remaining so docile. She flattened her hands against his broad back and pushed herself up so that she was straight. There were several chuckles in response to her rebellion, and more of the men in the yard turned to see what was amusing their comrades.
The smiles that appeared on their faces sent such heat into hers that she would not have been surprised to feel her skin sizzling because it flamed so hot. The three feathers standing up on the side of Connor’s bonnet suddenly caught her eye, and she grabbed it off his head before he reacted to the fact that she wasn’t going easily over his shoulder.
Brina sent it flying a second before Connor bounced her, and she tumbled down with a gasp, her belly tightening as she anticipated hitting the stone steps he had begun carrying her up.
“Ye’re a true hellcat beneath that nun’s robe, Brina. I cannae wait to bare ye.”
He captured her in his arms as she fell, cradling her across his body while crushing her at the same time so that she couldn’t continue her fight with him.
“I believe I am going to enjoy taming ye.”
“Ye will nae.”
He carried her beneath the wide double doors that led into the first tower that belonged to the second portion of the fortress.
“I will nae tame ye, or I will no’ enjoy doing it?”
There was a hint of wicked enjoyment in his tone that sent her straining against him once again.
“Neither!”
He laughed at her while she heard his boots hitting solid stone floor.
“But I will tame ye, Brina. Ye many depend upon it.”
There was a scurry in front of them, doors opening, and then he suddenly released her feet. She had been straining against him so hard that her legs went flying up into the air before they fell back down. Their knees knocked against each other, and she discovered herself grateful for the fact that he had bound her against his body with one solid arm. If he hadn’t, she would have landed on her backside, but that didn’t keep her from shoving her fists against his chest once she regained her footing.
“Release me.”
“I think no’, Brina. If ye are going to act like a hellcat, ye will have to take what comes with behaving so wildly.”
“This is unholy…”
There was a scuff against the floor behind them, and he stiffened before releasing her.
“It seems that we disagree again, lass, because I see nothing unholy in enjoying one another when we shall soon be wed.”
The firm belief in his voice agitated her, and she flipped the edges of her cloak open to reveal her gown. She gripped a handful of the undyed fabric and felt her fingers ache because she had tightened her fist so much.
“Look at me, Connor Lindsey. I cannae wed ye.”
He reached down and grasped the two straps at her waist that buttoned toward the back of the overgown to keep the fabric from billowing loose while maintaining a nonflattering shape. He yanked hard enough to pop the buttons off, and she gasped as she heard them scatter onto the floor.
“What I see is a dress that ye do nae need to wear ever again.”
He pulled the loosened gown upward, and her arms were caught up as he stripped the garment completely over her head and away from her body. Connor held the overdress like a trophy, lifting it high in one hand while she crossed her arms over her body. Clad only in her undergown, she felt exposed and on display.
“Taking my clothing changes nothing.”
“Neither will wearing it, for I’ve made my choice, and ye are here.”
He turned and threw her overgown into the hearth. Brina gasped and lunged toward it, but Connor caught her, his arms jerking her to a halt even as the fabric caught fire. Light flickered brightly across the chamber as the gown burned quickly, and then just as fast as it had ignited, it died back down into the glowing bed of embers. Her undyed gown was naught but glowing ash among the logs that still burned.
“Now be finished with yer ideas of serving the church, Brina. Ye will be my wife, not a bride of Christ.” He released her, and she looked up to discover him watching her with an expression that was impossible to read.
“Burning my gown does nae remove the promise I made to my father.”
A muscle along his jaw began to twitch.
“Be very sure that I intend to enjoy having ye, Brina. We shall have a warm marriage. That is my promise to ye, and yer father isna here, so it will be my word that ye must deal with.”
She snarled and cast a quick look about. A small pile of smooth stones near the hearth that were there to catch the heat and prevent it from escaping up the chimney. She bent down and picked one up.
“I won’t be the only one dealing with what is here, Connor Lindsey.”
There were several gasps from behind him, but the man laughed loudly enough to drown everything out. He threw back his head and let his amusement bounce off the ceiling. She was tempted to hit him again, the urge so strong, she must have moved her hand in some small way, because he suddenly jerked his head back down to where he might watch her. There was a challenge flickering in his eyes, one that dared her to try what she would.
Brina felt her teeth grind, and she threw the stone at him with a huff. He caught it, with a sure hand and an arrogant smirk.
“I look forward to our next encounter… hellcat.”
Four
Connor turned and left. Brina stared at the longer pleats of his plaid swaying slightly with his stride. His sword was still strapped to his back, and she had to bite back a scathing response. His bonnet was still missing, allowing her an unobstructed view of his hair. He kept it just shoulder length, and a section of it was pulled back in a small plait to keep it from falling into his eyes. It was a sandy-blond color, lighter than her own, and hinted at Norse blood flowing through his veins.
Aye, that made sense sure enough; the man was a Viking, completely without respect for any rules save for what he desired. The fact that he had the strength to do what he pleased only renewed the surge of temper that had seen her fighting with him in front of his men.
Well, she was not sorry. She wasn’t some bride who needed to take her position with grace and good cheer.
Brina turned away from the large hearth and allowed it to warm her back. Without her overgown, she found the night air chilly, but the fire was radiating vast heat that felt good on her meagerly clad body.
She swallowed roughly when she faced the fact that she was not alone. She recalled hearing those women gasp now but had somehow forgotten while Connor was there to agitate her so completely.
She cringed inside but kept her chin steady. Let them see that she was not impressed with their laird. Maybe one of them would show her a secret way out of the castle while the rest considered themselves well rid of a temperamental mistress.
Four women stood near the doorway, all of them watching her silently. Each wore the Lindsey plaid with its yellow and lavender threads. The plaid was worn as an arisaid, with the length of it going down their backs with only one corner visible over their right shoulders. Each woman wore a belt that kept the plaid secure against her waist, and the portion that draped across her back might be raised to shield her head from the rain. A long moment stretched out while they stared at one another.
