Highlander's Golden Jewel (Beasts 0f The Highlands Book 6)

by Alisa Adams

  “Lady Catriona!” Aunt Agnes said loudly. “Shame on ye! A lady doesnae speak so,” Aunt Agnes said pointedly to her.

  “Aye, Aunt Agnes,” Cat said sheepishly.

  Cat quickly spun away towards Kaithria. She linked her arm through Kaithria’s tense arm and hurried her into the drawing room with its blue walls, luminous chandeliers, and glowing wood floors. There were several chairs and settees set around the room. At the far end of the room was an elegant brand-new pianoforte.

  “Lady Jane?” Aunt Agnes called out. “Play us something!” she commanded.

  Lady Jane immediately went to the piano and played some Highland tunes that were mixed with some pieces of English country dances.

  Kaithria placed herself against a wall and watched as Catriona pulled Gillis onto the floor. Several men very quickly joined them in a version of the Strathspey reel that Lady Jane had selected to play.

  It seemed that every other young lady surrounded Keir, vying for his attention. One brown-haired girl was trying to pull him towards the dance floor, but Keir managed to disengage his hand from hers. He selected a shy girl from the back of the group to dance with. Her gown was simple and not as brightly colored as the rest of the lavishly dressed girls that had surrounded him, giggling and preening in their finery.

  Aunt Agnes came to stand beside Kaithria.

  “Ye arenae dancing?” Agnes asked her archly as she watched the couples dancing.

  “Nay milady,” Kaithria answered politely. She was trying not to watch Keir. She turned her face away from him and watched Lady Catriona and Lady Gillis instead.

  “Why not?” Agnes demanded, still without looking at her. Her attention was solely focused on the young people on the dance floor. Her nephew, in particular.

  “I dinnae dance,” Kaithria said simply.

  “See that ye don’t,” Agnes said sharply.

  “I dinnae dance,” Kaithria repeated firmly.

  “Ye willnae dance with me nephew. I forbid it.” Aunt Agnes grunted and moved away.

  The group of young ladies that had been gathered around Keir had walked over to stand near Kaithria, while Lady Gunn was talking to her. They were watching the dancers on the floor. They kept taking surreptitious glances at Kaithria. When Lady Gunn walked away from Kaithria, two of the young ladies came towards her.

  One of them came to stand directly in front of her. It was the girl that had tried to pull Keir out onto the dance floor. She had straight, thin, brown hair—so thin that her ears pointed out from her head. Her eyes were actually quite pretty but there was a meanness to her face, a slyness in those eyes, that put Kaithria on her guard. Her gown was a muted color of pink that made the girl’s skin look sickly. The lace bodice of her dress was indecently low and did nothing for her flat chest.

  The girl pursed her lips and offered a smug smile. “How do you manage knowing Lady Gunn doesnae want ye dancing with any of her guests?” she asked Kaithria in a falsely polite voice. “It must be so hard.” She looked at Kaithria shrewdly, as if waiting for an answer.

  Kaithria stared at her, her eyes unwavering. “I dinnae know ye. Why are ye speaking to me?”

  The girl next to her spoke up. This one had a round, moon-shaped face, and the same thin hair and ears that stuck out from her head. Her eyes had the same sly look to them. Sisters, Kaithria thought. “We are being so rude,” the younger sister said coyly. “I am Lynia, and this is my sister, Cheri’, and before ye ask”—she giggled in a high-pitched, affected laugh—“aye, ’tis a French name. ’Tis not her real name but ’tis what she wants to be called.” Her sister elbowed her sharply at that. “Lynia and Cheri’ MacMelchon,” she said loftily. “Laird Gunn has his sights set on me sister. He should be asking her to be his wife any day noo.” She preened importantly as her sister Cheri’ stared shrewdly at Kaithria. “We are so vera sorry that ye arenae allowed to dance with anyone here.”

  Kaithria stared at the two women. She nodded once to them. “I can see that ye are, indeed, vera sorry.” Kaithria turned her face away from them to watch the dancers once more.

  The two girls walked away giggling loudly.

  Kaithria sighed and continued watching Lady Catriona and Lady Gillis.

  Moments later one of the men approached Kaithria and held his hand out to her with a slight, almost mocking bow. “Dance with me,” he said. He did not ask. It was a demand.

  “Nay, but I thank ye for asking,” Kaithria said quietly but firmly as her eyes glided past him to Catriona on the dance floor.

  The man moved out of her vision, off to the side. Kaithria breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed as she watched the dancers.

  Kaithria was glad to see Catriona happy and looking vital. They seemed to be so far away from Brough Castle and Dunnett Head, here at Kinbrace. This was a different world. She felt a sudden need to go out to see Dummernech, and perhaps go for a ride. Nay, a gallop. A very fast, very long gallop.

  Suddenly the man was there again. He stepped close to her and made a quiet, snarling sound as he grabbed her hand. “Who are ye to say no to me, girl?” he hissed quietly in derision, as he cruelly squeezed her hand, twisting her wrist in the action.

  Kaithria looked down at his hand, then up to his face. She tried to pull her hand away but he held fast.

  He was hurting her wrist.

  “Please remove yer hand,” she said calmly.

  He only squeezed harder, giving her a wicked smiling sneer.

  Kaithria would not let him see that he had the power to hurt her.

  With her hand, she made a quick twisting motion and then pushed his fingers back at a painful angle.

  She matched his secretive tone. “I dinnae like to be touched,” she said quietly. Then she pushed his fingers, and his hand, away from her.

  The man clutched his hand, hiding his surprise as he stared at her. He smiled a threatening, malevolent smile as he walked away while massaging his painful fingers.

  Kaithria watched the man go with a soft frown on her lips as she rubbed her sore wrist.

  When she turned back to look at the dance floor, there was Agnes and Keir, watching her. She immediately stilled her hand on her wrist.

  The look on Keir’s face made her heart race. The intensity of his dark eyes as they held hers seemed to make the whole room behind him slow to a standstill. She watched as the firm set of his square chin, with its slight dark stubble around his beautiful mouth and jaw, tensed. He stood up straighter.

  The man towers over everyone in the room, she thought to herself.

  The candlelight shone on his dark hair where it curled over his ears and just barely touched his shoulders in back. The glimmering golden candles also lit up the rich fabric of his jacket, making his shoulders look impossibly broad.

  Impossibly handsome.

  Kaithria willed herself to breathe.

  Keir walked slowly up to her, looking deep in thought.

  He turned and casually leaned against the wall beside her, facing the dance floor, just as she was. “Did he hurt ye?” he asked softly in his deep voice.

  “Why do ye ask that?” Kaithria asked equally as softly, struggling to not let him see how he was affecting her. She noted the gaggle of females off to the side of the room, staring avidly at him.

  “Because I need to know if he needs killing,” Keir answered.

  Kaithria glanced at him with surprise. “Ye wouldnae,” she said.

  Keir looked at her and their glances held.

  Keir’s eyes roved over Kaithria’s face, settling on her lips and lingering there, before his eyes came back to hers.

  “I would,” Keir said in a husky growl.

  Kaithria looked away from him, back to the dancers.

  “Ye are not dancing?” he asked her, staring at her regal profile.

  “I dinnae dance. I told yer aunt this.” Kaithria stared straight ahead.

  “Why?” Keir asked with interest as he continued to study her. He noticed her cheeks were turning red.

&nb
sp; Kaithria stubbornly did not answer.

  “Is it because of yer ankle?” Keir asked softly.

  Kaithria’s head whirled to stare at him. Her eyes were wide, and her breathing had suddenly become fast. She said nothing.

  “I noticed it the day I met ye, in the bogs near Brough Castle,” Keir said quietly as he turned to watch the dancers. He crossed his arms across his chest. “’Tis subtle, but ’tis there. An old injury perhaps?”

  “I cannae say,” Kaithria answered as she too turned to stare at the dancers once again.

  “Cannae, or willnae?” Keir asked.

  Kaithria again steadfastly refused to look at him. “Ye have a group of young ladies waiting to dance with ye. Excuse me, milord,” she said as she walked proudly, but stiffly, away.

  Catriona was coming off the dance floor and met her with a huge grin on her face.

  “Och, that was the most wonderful, thrilling dance! My legs felt strong and I didnae tire!”

  Kaithria smiled happily with her. “And ye are a beautiful dancer, Lady Catriona.”

  “Come,” Cat said as she began leading Kaithria towards the pianoforte. “Lady Jane was asking for someone to sing the next piece along with her as she plays!”

  “Nay,” Kaithria said as she stopped. “Lady Catriona! I cannae.”

  “I shall sing with ye,” Cat insisted as she tugged Kaithria along, knowing she was frowning at her.

  “Ye cannae sing,” Kaithria said drolly.

  “Then I shall hum along,” Cat said as she continued to pull Kaithria towards the pianoforte.

  “Ye cannae hum either,” Kaithria mumbled as she followed her, dragging her feet. “Do ye remember on the road when we met the thieves at Brough Castle? Ye couldnae hum a note to distract them. No, ye certainly cannae hum.”

  “Not true!” Cat said with a laugh as she continued to pull Kaithria towards Jane at the piano. “That was such fun, I have never felt so alive as that day that we fought those scunners and I gave that mon a haircut with me old sword!”

  Kaithria could not help the smile that came to her lips. She let Cat pull her the rest of the way to the pianoforte.

  Jane was thrilled to have not one, but two ladies singing with her and quickly put her fingers back to the keys.

  Kaithria smiled at the song. It was a favorite of her friend, Lady Swan.

  She raised her voice and sang with Jane and Catriona as her eyes stared at the glittering, luminous crystals of the chandelier over the dancers.

  “Thou art a queen, fair Lesley,

  Thy subjects we before thee:

  Thou art divine, fair Lesley,

  The hearts of men adore thee.

  The de'il he cou'dna skaith thee,

  Or aught that wad belang thee,

  He'd look into thy bonnie face,

  And say, I canna wrang thee.”

  She did not notice when the dancers stopped, or the room became silent.

  Nor did she notice when Jane stopped singing. Her fingers still played upon the keys, but Jane’s eyes were on the exotic woman who had saved her and her children from her brutal husband.

  Her voice was mellifluous, honeyed and soft, and so soothing to the ears.

  Cat hummed along with a small smile on her face. She knew the others were as surprised at Kaithria’s heavenly voice as she had been when she first heard it. Cat glanced at her uncle Keir, whose attention was riveted on Kaithria.

  Kaithria’s voice traveled throughout the room with the clearness of her soothing, dulcet notes.

  Keir stood, unmoving, as he watched Kaithria. He was oblivious to the women surrounding him.

  He had eyes and ears only for the woman across the room. Her voice seemed to thrum across his chest as he listened. His heartbeat slowed just as his breathing did as he watched her, stunned at the pureness of her voice. Soothed by the honeyed tones she sang.

  Thou art divine, and surely men adore thee, Keir thought as he listened to the words she sang.

  The song came to a close as her voice held the final note with such purity it caught everyone’s breath, before it melted softly away.

  Kaithria looked down at Cat and smiled.

  Cat laughed and clapped her hands and hugged Kaithria, who immediately froze at her touch. Whether it was from the embrace, or from the sudden applause in the room, Cat did not know.

  Kaithria stepped back, her eyes wide as she looked at the people staring at her. She turned around and fled through the large doors leading to the outer terrace.

  Keir walked up to Cat. “I had no idea,” he said hoarsely.

  “Aye,” Cat smiled with pride. “She has a beautiful voice, doesnae she?”

  “Aye, she does,” Keir agreed. “But she doesnae like to be touched, does she?”

  Cat shook her head as she looked in the direction that Kaithria had gone. “Nay, Uncle Keir. She doesnae. Though I am trying to get her used to me hugs.”

  Cat turned to look at her uncle but he had already gone. He was heading for the very same doors that Kaithria had gone through.

  5

  Keir found her at the very back of the garden. He felt sure that Kaithria would have kept going if the back perimeter curtain wall had been taken down by his Aunt Agnes as the front wall had been.

  She was standing there, in a shimmer of moonlight. Reaching up, she cupped a pale flower that was growing on a climbing vine up the wall. He watched as she gently sniffed the flower’s perfume.

  Keir walked slowly towards her. She had been a mystery from the very first day he had met her, when she and Swan McKay had pulled himself and his cousin, Wolf, out of that miserable bog. In truth, he knew that both women were more worried about his and Wolf’s warhorses. The two huge horses were exhausting themselves as they tried to get firm footing under their front hooves in order to pull themselves out of the dark brackish water. Neither the men nor the horses had been able to get out of the bog until the women had come along to help them.

  “Kaithria,” Keir said quietly. His deep voice sounded loud, even to his ears, in the silence of the garden and the soft moonlight.

  She turned her head in surprise as she dropped the flower and faced him with a tensed look on her face. Keir watched as her body relaxed, only somewhat, but he saw the change come over her. She had faced him ready for...what?

  “Ye sing beautifully,” was all Keir could think to say as he studied her face. She was even more beautiful in the silvery radiance of the moonlight.

  Keir took a few more slow steps towards her.

  Kaithria backed up. “I thank ye,” she said.

  “Yer ankle and yer wrist,” Keir said without thinking.

  For he had watched as she reached up to the flower climbing the wall. Her sleeve had ridden up and he could see the difference in the one wrist over the other. And she had been rubbing it, when that blaggard had tried to dance with her. He had hurt her. The pain still haunted her, but the injury was old. Who had done this to her? Both of her wrists were so thin, so slender and delicate looking. He knew it would not have taken much effort to snap the bone.

  “What happened?” he asked when she did not respond.

  She was holding her wrist and looking at him with wide, frightened eyes.

  “I cannae say,” she said softly, letting go of her wrist.

  Keir frowned, just slightly. “Vera well.” He attempted a gentle smile as he took another step towards her.

  She backed up against the flower vine. Her face and hair were now wreathed in the flowers growing profusely up the rocks that made up the perimeter wall.

  Keir’s breathing increased as his heart thudded heavily in his chest. Lightning thrummed through his veins, just as if she was still singing, as if her voice was making its way through his body—stroking each part of him, as she had stroked each note in a melody. He tried to control his desire for this woman. He had to, for something had happened to her. He knew he wanted her. He had known from the very first day. But did he want more than just this desire? He knew tha
t this woman was very different from all the women he had so easily had. Not just her looks, for she was exquisitely exotic, but there was a quiet caring and a strength mixed with a fragileness about her that drew him.

  He stepped right up to her, staring down into her eyes.

  She pressed herself back, into the flowers, crushing them and releasing their sweet perfume into the night air.

  “Dinnae…” she whispered.

  “Dinnae what, Kaithria?” he whispered back to her as he edged closer.

  Kaithria trembled, for his voice stroked her as gently as if he had touched her.

  Keir saw her eyes dilate, watched as her lips parted. He wanted to touch the soft little spot on her neck where her heartbeat pulsed.

  “Dinnae touch ye?” he answered for her. “How do ye expect to marry?” Keir frowned. He needed to know the answer to this question, though he feared it at the same time.

  “I dinnae want a husband,” Kaithria said quietly in a firm voice.

  Keir laughed softly in surprise. “Never?” He briefly thought that he would be the one to convince her.

  “Never,” she said again. For she knew to marry meant giving a man power over her, power to hurt her with his hands, just like her father did to her mother.

  Keir studied her, reading the emotions flashing across her face. He reached out to stroke her face but she leaned away from him. Fire flashed in those golden jewel-like eyes of hers.

  “Dinnae,” she said huskily.

  “I promise ye, my hands willnae touch ye,” he said in a soft, velvety, dark voice. He leaned in closer, his breath just a whisper from hers.

  Kaithria’s eyes widened further. What is he doing? she thought as she trembled and quivered. And then, What is he doing to me? She could see every change in his eyes as he stared deeply into hers. She watched as his jaw tightened. Her gaze caressed the perfectness of his strong, square jaw, his straight nose, and high cheekbones. Her eyes hungrily traced the perfection of his eyebrows, save for the faint scar interrupting one of the arches. She marveled at the beginnings of grey in his hair that she could see this close, where his hair arched over his ears, and more wisps of grey, there at his temples. He was impossibly beautiful to her. Even his scent teased at her. Spicy, male, rich with secret scents of leather, horses, and...is that sandalwood?