Highland Hellcat

by Mary Wine

  It was more than lust. He felt that truth even as he knelt in submission to the church and began his confession. His words were disjointed because his mind was not on the matter of his soul and its position in the afterlife. Instead he was focused on the bride he wanted to learn more about.

  But for a man of the church, Father Luke-Paul held more knowledge than any celibate should. The priest drew out the confession and announced a penance that was going to take a fair amount of time to complete. Connor ground his teeth but nodded.

  Bugger it.

  ***

  Connor was on his knees when Brina entered the church doorway.

  The sight stunned her, and she stood in place, her eyes adjusting to the dim interior of the sanctuary.

  He was not a man who knelt easily…

  She couldn’t stop the rise of her own pride in response. Oh, it was surely pride, because what else could she call the enjoyment she gained from knowing that such a powerful man was attempting to satisfy the church so that he might wed her?

  He might have doubled his offering to the priest or promised to build something for the church with the labor owed to him by his clan members. Such was the normal practice for lairds who stole brides. A bartering of material things before the church gave its blessing in spite of any obstacles that might have impeded the union.

  Instead Connor Lindsey, laird of some of the fiercest Highlanders in Scotland, was on his knees while a priest watched from an alcove.

  It brought tears to her eyes because it was more sincere than any words he might have uttered could ever have been. A man might say many things when he was intent on seduction, but how he conducted himself after he had won the victory he sought spoke much about his true nature.

  Connor Lindsey was truly a man of honor. That was such a rare thing. Many men claimed it, fought over it, but in truth they only maintained their noble facade when there was someone about to offer them attention for it. Here in the dimly lit pews, there was only a priest who would keep his silence in accordance with his vows on just how the laird gained his absolution.

  Connor was doing his penance, just as any man beneath his authority would have instead of using his position to force the priest to marry them.

  Aye, he had honor, and it made her proud to know that he considered her worthy of being his bride.

  From behind her, a bell began to ring, and very quickly after that a second and third joined in. Connor jerked, jumping to his feet and turning in a swirl of Lindsey plaid. He froze when his gaze settled on her, surprise taking command of his features for a brief moment before more bells joined the ringing. He covered the distance between them with long strides.

  “Go into the tower, lass, until I discover who is at my gate.”

  Fear tore through her, the distaste in his voice shattering her fascination with discovering him in the church.

  She reached out, clutching at his forearm. Her action surprised him, bringing him to a standstill when she was sure that nothing else might have distracted him from his duty to protect his clan against whoever was riding toward Birch Stone.

  Horror threatened to choke her while images of her father and other members of her clan lying bloodied in the snow rose up to torment her. Being inside Birch Stone would give the Lindsey an advantage that would see many of her kin dead if not all of them, if it was her father approaching.

  “My father is a good man.” She forced the words past lips that threatened to tremble and reduce her to a weeping weakling at his feet.

  More than one stolen bride had discovered that the only way to keep her kin from being cut down when they came to protest her abduction was to wed her captor, looking willing and contented in spite of the circumstances.

  “I refused to return home without ye, Brina, because I want an alliance with the Chattan. It isna a feud that I’m looking to begin.”

  He covered her hand with his larger one, offering her a firm squeeze before he lifted her fingers off his arm and looked past her toward his men.

  “Take her into the tower and keep her there, lads.”

  ***

  Brina realized she had never truly known fear.

  Not a single time in her entire life. Every minute felt as long as an hour. Connor’s men took her to the tower, but she refused to go any farther than the doors. The retainers looked at her and then at one another, but the older one shrugged and leaned up against the wall, content to allow her to remain where she was because it would satisfy what their laird had ordered them to do.

  “Mistress? Come into the hall. Better not to dwell on matters that men must tend to.”

  Maura’s voice held a measure of kindness that didn’t soothe her. Brina walked across the width of the tower, then stopped at one of the windows that had its wooden shutters open to allow fresh air inside. She wasn’t high enough to see out of the inner castle, but she could see that the gate was lowered to seal off the inner yard. Voices came from the hall behind her, telling her that most of the inhabitants had crossed through that gate to take shelter in the tower farthest from the approaching riders when the bells had rung. She could hear children and women behind her, and in spite of the fact that they were keeping their voices low, the number of them made the hall quite noisy.

  She turned and walked across the length of the tower until she could see out a window on the opposite side. Now she had a view of the church. The large double doors that had always been open were now shut, and every window was covered with thick wooden shutters.

  “We’ve no way of knowing who is coming up the hill, mistress. Save yer worry for a time when there is clear trouble.”

  Maura stepped in front of her, refusing to allow her to pace back to the other window, but Brina was not in the mood to be bent beneath the woman’s greater experience.

  “For all that yer laird has his honorable reasons for taking me, my father is equally bound by his integrity to object. Why am I the only one who can see this has the making of a feud that will only take lives that would be better used to make the future good for everyone. I cannae take my own happiness in such a manner.”

  Maura lifted a hand to cover her lips, while her eyes filled with worry. She drew in a deep breath.

  “Well then, I suppose ’tis a good thing that ye and the laird settled matters between ye last evening.”

  “Settled?”

  The head of house drew herself up and propped her hands onto her hips.

  “I saw yer gown myself, and I’ll swear to the fact that ye are nae suffering yer courses. Ye were pure when ye went to his bed.”

  Maura raised her voice, making sure that the men behind her heard every syllable. Brina’s face heated up as they nodded with approval.

  “There will be an alliance, and if it is yer father out there, the laird will deal with him. I have faith in that. It’s in yer favor that ye think of others before yerself, but ye do nae know our laird very well yet. He will bring to us what he has promised. A bright future with an agreement with yer clan that will ensure peace.”

  An alliance. Of course. That was her purpose. Brina turned and entered the great hall. She hesitated at the door as so many heads turned to her. Younger children peeked between the shoulders of the adults, while conversation died away. She forced herself forward, and a few of the older men reached up to tug on the corners of their bonnets, but they were few. Most of the Lindsey clan simply regarded her as a recent acquisition, one who would bring them what they wanted. Maura might call her “mistress,” but she was nothing of the sort.

  She preferred it that way…

  The image of Connor kneeling in the sanctuary surfaced in her mind, lending her the strength to make it to the end of the hall with a level chin. She would earn respect from the Lindseys or live without it. She heard Connor’s retainers following her, their boot heels making soft tapping sounds on the stone floor. Even when they m
asked their steps, she could see on the faces of those in front of her that they were trailing her.

  Connor didn’t trust her, and yet the man had boldly demanded her trust last night. Frustration rose up, and it mixed with the fear still brewing inside her.

  But what bothered her the most was the fact that she was growing very trusting of her captor. She might refuse to admit it to anyone else, but that did not change what she knew to be true.

  A grinding sound began to echo through the hall, stopping Brina in her tracks. A hush settled over the inhabitants, which allowed them to hear the sound more clearly, and then laughter erupted all around her.

  The inner gate was being raised, and relief washed over everyone except for Brina. She turned to watch those who had crowded onto the benches all heading out of the tower now that the threat had passed.

  “Ye see there, mistress?” Maura smiled and she nodded. “All is well, and I’m right pleased to tell ye that the laird takes no chances on the well-being of his clan. He has that gate secured every time riders are sighted, just to make certain of that fact.”

  “The raising of that gate does nae mean that my father is nae outside the walls.”

  But it did mean that Connor wasn’t going to order his archers to let loose their arrows.

  Once more the man was true to his word. Brina turned around and walked past the retainers set to guarding her.

  Oh yes, Connor Lindsey did keep his word in so many ways. She was likely to go insane before the week’s end from the man’s persistent nature.

  Or wed him…

  “Mistress, ye’re to remain in the tower.”

  The older of the men reached out and neatly hooked her forearm when she went to follow the other women out into the yard. His touch startled her, but more so because she had been so deep within her thoughts that she hadn’t taken notice of where she was going.

  “Do nae call me mistress when I am no such thing here.”

  She stepped to the side of the doorway, and the man folded his arms in front of his chest while frowning at her.

  “Ye’re to marry our laird; that makes ye the mistress.”

  Brina scoffed at his logic. “Just because a man is a Scot does nae make him a Highlander, or do ye consider those who live in the Lowlands Highlanders?”

  “No one does, and that’s a fact sure enough…”

  The man snapped his lips together when he realized that he’d agreed with her logic. He lifted one hand.

  “But that is nae to say…”

  “Do nae concern yerself with my feelings. I prefer honesty, and it is clear enough that yer clan does nae consider me their mistress but are only calling me such to please yer laird. I have no’ kept the books or seen to the stores so that all will be fed throughout the winter. That is what makes a mistress of a castle, nae simply… well…”

  She slapped her hands down on top of her skirts again and fixed him with a hard look. “It is a fact that I have nae acted as mistress of this castle, and I cannae accept being called by a title that should be earned.”

  “That is something that will change when we wed, Brina.”

  Connor stood in the doorway, his voice deep and hard with authority. He aimed a stare at her that was unwavering with his intent. “And if ye want to argue about what ye are here, Brina, I am the one ye should be talking to.”

  She raised her chin in the face of his disgruntled tone. “Then dismiss yer men, for I am no’ accustomed to ignoring those around me as if I am better than they.”

  Connor’s eyes flashed. “I agree that ye are nae accustomed to many things, but I believe ye are doing a fine job of learning new ways.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ve taken notice of just how well ye are adjusting. Last night ye did very well.”

  Her jaw dropped open, but she snapped it shut as her temper blazed.

  Connor stepped inside. “Quinton, allow me to introduce Brina Chattan to ye.”

  He turned to look at another man, who was stepping through the double-wide doorway. He looked like Connor’s opposite. They were both huge, but where Connor was light haired, Quinton had hair the darkest shade of black. Most men had brown hair, but this one was a true black, and he even kept a beard that was cut short.

  “This is Quinton Cameron, Laird Cameron, and he’s kindly agreed to witness our vows.”

  There was too much arrogance in Connor’s voice, and she glared at him in defiance. Laird Cameron watched her with an expression that told her he expected her to yield as well, and her self-discipline failed in the face of their presumptuous attitudes.

  “Except that I have promised ye that I will nae wed ye.”

  Laird Cameron actually grinned, but Connor wasn’t amused by her words. She watched his eyes grow dark with frustration.

  “Excuse me, Cameron. I need to have a word with my bride-to-be.”

  “Aye, I can see that well enough.”

  The Cameron laird offered her an amused grin before he walked past her, his retainers trailing him.

  “Yer mistress does nae need ye for the moment.” Connor drew out the title before walking toward her and grasping her wrist with his hand to turn her about to face one of the narrow passageways leading away from the tower. He kept her in front of him, turning two corners before guiding her though a doorway that led to a small workroom. She didn’t get the chance to investigate what was in the room, because he propelled her into it and followed her with a frown that made her back away until she felt the stone wall against her shoulders.

  He pressed her up against the wall, his expression as solid as the stone behind her. She heard him draw in a stiff breath and hold it, as though he was fighting for patience.

  “We settled this matter last night, Brina.”

  His voice was unyielding, but she refused to buckle.

  “The only matter that was made plain was the fact that I am as weak as my sister when it comes to the passions of the flesh. A fact ye should consider before continuing with this notion of wedding me.”

  He ground his teeth to smother some word.

  “It means that ye are my wife, and I find myself very content with that. Why must ye continue to argue against it?”

  Brina shot a hard glare straight back at him. “Because my word isna worth anything if I dishonor my father when I give it to ye. I cannae believe that ye would accept my vows knowing that I swore to do my father’s will when I left my home. I cannae keep one promise and no’ another. That isna how honor works, Connor Lindsey.”

  She heard his teeth grinding again, but he pressed his lips together instead of speaking whatever sprang to his mind.

  “I respect ye for yer diligence, Brina, but there is naught else ye can do in this situation. My actions have made it impossible for ye to follow the path yer father set for ye. I promise that I will tell yer father that ye held true to yer word.”

  She lifted her chin. “And I am just to be content with ye shouldering the burden?”

  “Aye. I am yer husband.”

  “No, ye are nae.” She shook her head. “Ye are my lover because I was too weak to resist yer touch, but I will nae wed ye without my father’s blessing.”

  He snorted, his temper glittering in his eyes. “Ye will wed me, Brina, and that is the end of it. Yer father will be brought to agreement on the matter, which is exactly why Cameron is here. To help me do the business that needs doing between men.”

  She opened her lips to argue, but he pressed a fingertip on top of them to seal them shut. She could see that his mood was turning dark, maybe even dangerous, but she still refused to lower her eyes, because he would consider that submission. The man she had witnessed kneeling in the church was not one who would have a woman too lacking in courage to look him in the eye. Maybe she could not wed him, but that did not mean that she couldn’t be worthy of him.

  He growled at her.
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  “I have a guest that I must see to, but be very sure that I will nae change my position on this matter. Ye can decide how our lives will be. If it must be by force, I will set my men to guarding ye until ye have done with this foolishness.”

  He pushed away from her, and took several long strides across the chamber floor before turning to look at her once more.

  “Ye belong to me, Brina, and I will nae give ye up, no’ even for the king if he were to ask.”

  “I am nae your chattel.” She hesitated for a moment. “At least no’ until my father gives me his blessing to wed ye.”

  He laughed, but it wasn’t a pleasant sound. Instead it sent a shiver down her back as he closed the distance between them and framed her face with his hands. His touch undermined her efforts to refuse him, her body quivering in weakness once more. It was a tender hold, and that sent emotions through her that she was not able to push aside. He might break her so easily, but he didn’t, and that touched her heart.

  “Ye are mine, sweet lass, because ye clasped me between yer thighs and rode with me toward a climax that sent ye crying out with the pure rapture of it. Do ye think that ye shall be content to live without me? I swear I would haunt yer dreams if ye were to attempt it.”

  He pressed a hard kiss against her mouth. One that challenged her will just as much as she tried to refuse his.

  “So spit all ye like during the bright light of day, hellcat, because once the moon rises, I will stroke ye until ye purr for me.”

  “I am no’ a hellcat.”

  He chuckled and backed away from her, his lips set into a grin that infuriated her with how smug it was.

  “Ye are indeed a hellcat, but one that I look forward to taming this moonrise.”

  Taming?

  “Ohhh… go on with ye! There is naught that ye have to say that I care to listen to! Take yer bragging to yer men. Women have no taste for such boasting.”

  He laughed at her, his amusement echoing down the corridors while her temper strained against her common sense.