Promised to a Highland Laird

by Sky Purington

  Graham nodded. That made sense just as long as he remained with Christina and Kenna.

  “Sven, Conall, Lindsay, and Kenna, you will travel northwest together,” Grant continued. “Graham, Bryce and Christina will travel northeast with me.”

  “Nay, Kenna should stay with me,” he began before Kenna shook her head and looked at Bryce. “Might ye hold Christina a moment so I can speak with Graham alone?”

  “Aye,” Bryce said, more than willing to take Christina out of Graham’s arms before he and Kenna walked a short distance away.

  “Ye should stay with me, lass,” he started to say before she shook her head and put a finger to his lips.

  “I am going with the others, Graham,” she said softly, her eyes with his as she pulled her hand away. “And I am releasing ye from this marriage pact.”

  “Och.” He shook his head. “I’ll not hear of it—”

  “Ye’ll hear of it because ‘tis done,” she said bluntly. “I am verra sorry, but I willnae marry ye, Graham MacLomain.”

  Saddened by what this might mean for her, he shook his head and was about to speak, but she spoke first. “Yer doing the noble thing and that has always meant so much my friend, but we both know our feelings for each other arenae the same.” She touched his cheek. “’Tis all right, Graham. I’ll be just fine as will my clan.” She shook her head. “I willnae let ye sacrifice yerself.”

  “’Twould not have been a sacrifice,” he whispered. “Ye are my friend, Kenna.”

  “Aye,” she whispered, her eyes soft. “And that isnae the way I want to start my marriage.”

  “Marriages have been started on far less,” he argued, “and found far more.”

  “Aye,” she agreed. “But not ours. Not now.”

  “Because of Christina,” he murmured.

  “Aye,” she replied and nodded. “Because of ye both and what I wish for ye.”

  He was about to reply, but arrows started to rain down. Moments later, Bryce raced by with Christina and yelled, “We’re under attack!”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I JUST NEED to make it up these stairs,” Christina whispered over and over to herself. “Up these stairs, back into the chamber with Kenna and it’ll be all right. Everything’s gonna be just fine.”

  Yet she should have known that would be too easy. That she was lucky to have fought so many and not killed anyone. She had nearly reached the top when an Englishman appeared at the top of the stairs. Clearly realizing the havoc she had caused below, he vanished only to take the coward’s way out and head for Kenna.

  Christina didn’t give him a chance to get far before she raced at him, drove her fist into his kidney and watched him fall. Half a breath later, her head was yanked back by another man, and cool steel met her throat. She didn’t hesitate but drove her dagger straight back into whatever she could hit. That, as she soon found out, was a jugular vein.

  She turned and met his eyes as he fell to his knees.

  “Tell him yer next,” he rasped, sounding just like the warlock. “Tell Graham yer both next.”

  Seconds later, her eyes shot open.

  “Kenna?” she whispered, unable to stop shaking as she took her hand. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  “’Tis me, lass,” Graham said softly as his hand seemed to replace Kenna’s. “You’re not in the castle anymore. You’re safe now.”

  She blinked several times, trying to acclimate. A small fire crackled nearby, and she lay on some sort of bedding wrapped in blankets. By the looks of it, the sun was setting, and they were in a very dense area of woodland.

  “What happened, Graham?” she whispered. “Is Kenna all right?”

  “Aye.” He was crouched in front of her, his touch gentle as he brushed hair back from her forehead. “She’s safe thanks to you, lass. You did verra well.”

  “Aye,” came Bryce’s voice from somewhere beyond him. “You are a bloody good fighter, lass and verra brave.”

  Christina frowned as she sat up with Graham’s assistance. “Why would you say that?”

  “Because they saw you.” Grant tapped his temple. “Within their minds.”

  Her eyes darted between Bryce and Graham. “Both of you?”

  “Aye, and Conall as well,” Bryce informed as Graham sat beside her and wrapped the blanket over her shoulders. “And Grant too through our minds.”

  Imagine that. She supposed she was officially out of the ‘witchy' closet now.

  “Where are we? What happened?” She looked around. “I don’t remember much after being strangled.” Her eyes met Graham’s, and she shook her head. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t hold my own at that point, honey. I was just so damn tired.”

  “Och,” he muttered and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “We had a few arrows fly at us at the end, but we got away. Before that, you did bloody well, lass. I’ve never been so proud.”

  “Proud?” she murmured. “What for?”

  “For protecting Kenna as valiantly as you did.” A frown tugged at his lips as he eyed what she suspected had to be a pretty good shiner. “I had no idea you could fight like that.”

  “Aye, ‘twas most impressive.” Bryce scowled at Graham before he turned a warm smile her way. “Where did you learn to fight in such a way, lass?”

  Christina shrugged, not sure she was quite ready to go down this road. To share so much. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

  “You might be surprised,” Grant said, kindness in his eyes as he handed her a skin of whisky. “Then, mayhap, I can provide you with some information that will surprise you even more.”

  As her eyes stayed with Grant’s, warmth spread through her veins. Comfort. “Are you doing that?” she whispered without thinking. “Comforting me like that?”

  Grant shrugged, winked then urged her to tell them more about her fighting abilities.

  “Well, I picked them up off of television.” She felt a little sheepish. “We didn’t have enough money when I was a kid to put me into karate and rarely had enough to keep a TV going, so I’d sneak through the woods and watch television through our neighbor’s window.” She shrugged one shoulder. “As it turned out, he watched nothing but old kung fu movies and westerns, so I learned a bit of both types of fighting...minus the gun-shootin’ that is.”

  She could tell by the somewhat stunned looks on their faces that they had not seen that explanation coming.

  “So you learned how to fight from watching television?” Grant asked, clearly amazed.

  “Sure did.” She took a deep swig of what she thought was whisky only to find it was water. “Well, thank the good Lord for small favors,” she murmured before she tilted her head back and chugged it down to the last drop.

  When she finished, it was to find Graham and Bryce watching her with amused, almost charmed expressions. “What?” She couldn’t stop a small grin. “Don’t tell me you boys are as squeamish as Robert’s kin about a girl who enjoys food...or drink in this case.” She tossed a look at Graham. “Speakin’ of drink...”

  She no sooner got the words out before he handed her another skin and grinned. “I wouldnae recommend drinking this one quite so fast.”

  “Noted,” she said before she took a solid swig of whisky then focused on Grant. “Okay, you heard how I learned to fight. What was your big surprise?”

  This, it seemed, was something Graham and Bryce were also interested in based on the way they looked at Grant.

  “Well, ‘tis directly related to your magic and your amazing strength, instincts, and ability to fight,” Grant said. “Though distant and no longer godly, your magic is of Celtic origin and pulls forth the power of Fionn Mac Cumhaill, a great warrior god.”

  All Christina could do was stare at him and mumble, “Say what?”

  “’Tis no surprise really as Fionn has a long history with both the Brouns and MacLomains,” Grant explained. “And you, my lass, are verra much related to him.” Pride lit his eyes. “You are every inch a great warrior, and
like him, I would imagine a great protector of those you consider innocent.”

  Speechless and suddenly very thirsty for the strong stuff, she took another swig of whisky then shook her head. “So I’m related to a god, but I’m not a god.”

  “Aye.” Grant kept grinning. “You’re a witch with god-like powers. ‘Tis bloody spectacular in my opinion.”

  “Well, it has come in handy over the years,” she relented. “At least being able to run like I do.”

  Grant nodded, pleased it seemed that she was taking the news in stride and wasn’t confused like some people might be. The truth was, she was happy to finally put an explanation to her gift. To understand it a little bit better.

  Right on time, her stomach growled, reminding her that she needed food.

  Badly.

  “Here, lass.” Clearly anticipating her need to refuel, Graham handed her a stick with meat on it. “Plenty more where that came from.”

  “Thank you.” She grinned before she dug in. “I can’t remember the last time I was so hungry.”

  Between going without food and using her magic, it was a wonder she was functioning at all.

  “Current circumstances aside, it stands to reason you would always have a hearty appetite,” Grant said. “You might not be overly muscular, but your magic will always cause your body to need extra food. It has the needs of a warrior’s physique, therefore requires extra nourishment.”

  “Hmm,” Christina managed as she chomped along, not all that concerned. Unlike most women, she had never worried about weight mainly because there was never enough food growing up. To her way of thinking, if she put on a little extra now, so be it. Men could take it or leave it for all she cared. Curvy was just as sexy in her book.

  Based on the way Graham and Bryce were eying her, she didn’t think she had all that much to worry about.

  “Your mind, body, and magic will always work in accord,” Grant continued, amusement in his eyes as he watched her eat with gusto. “As such, you will only ever eat what your body needs.”

  She frowned and swallowed her last bite, not so sure about that last bit. “Why does that almost sound like I don’t get to enjoy food much beyond the full feelin’?”

  “’Twill be as your magic dictates, lass,” Grant said kindly. “But if you continue to run a lot and even battle, my thought is you can eat to your heart’s content and remain verra fit.”

  She shrugged as she polished off her first stick of meat and started on another.

  After that, they talked about other things and caught her up on what was happening including Kenna’s whereabouts. She, in turn, caught them up on the warlock.

  “He’s scary as shit,” she said softly, apologizing under her breath to Granny for swearing before she took another swig of whisky. “But he didn’t hurt us, and I don’t get that.” Her eyes went to Grant’s. “Do you?”

  “Nay.” He shook his head. “I dinnae ken why it didnae hurt Lindsay either. Beyond her hand that is. Because it could have taken her life after you were abducted.” His eyes were both troubled and contemplative. “Nor do I ken its reasoning for bringing you to Stirling Castle. ‘Twas an action that could verra well set history back on track which is the opposite of what these warlocks want.”

  “And what about the mention of a wee witch?” She frowned. “Lindsay told me y’all thought that might be a reference to Jessie.” She tilted her head. “Do you still feel that way?”

  “I dinnae know, lass.” Grant shook his head, his eyes compassionate as they stayed with hers. “’Tis all verra much a mystery still. That this warlock didnae hurt you and seems to have set the battle back to where it needs to be is verra odd indeed.”

  “Right, because he could’ve just killed me right then and there.” She shivered. “And I’ll be damned if for a moment or two it didn’t feel like he wanted to. That he was about to...”

  “Yet it didnae,” Grant murmured. “So you saw it as more of a man than a creature then?”

  Christina shrugged. Until this moment she hadn’t given it much thought. “Yeah, I suppose, though I really didn’t see him all that well. It was too dark.”

  “’Tis strange,” Bryce agreed, his brow furrowing as his eyes went from Graham to Christina then to Grant. “As is the fact ‘tis me and only me that Christina hears within the mind.”

  “Och,” Graham started before Grant interrupted.

  “’Tis strange,” Grant said. “But certainly not enough to separate Graham and Christina if they wish to be together.”

  “A Broun can only hear her one true love within her mind,” Bryce argued. “It has been that way from the verra beginning has it not?”

  “Aye.” Grant’s steady eyes met Bryce’s. “But ‘tis also true she can hear his kin after she had truly connected with her one true love.”

  What was this?

  She chose not to mention that she may have already heard Graham in her mind. Mainly because that might sound like she wanted him to be her one true love.

  “So why is it then that I can’t hear Graham?” she asked, not realizing she just did what she had been trying to avoid. Implying that she thought he might be her true love. Chalk it up to a rough few days and a tired mind.

  “Another mystery,” Grant conceded. “But one I suspect has everything to do with you being close to the warlock.” He shrugged. “Considering Graham has heard you within his mind from the moment you met.”

  “Say what?” Her eyes shot to Graham. “You have?”

  “Aye, lass.” He sighed and slid his hand into hers. “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner.”

  “Yeah you should’ve,” she muttered but couldn’t quite be mad at him as their eyes held. Those dark-as-night eyes she could lose herself in. “What have you heard?”

  He shrugged. “Nothing too personal.”

  The way he said it and the sparkle in his eyes made her lips curl up. “Why do I get the feeling you’re lying?”

  “Because you feel vulnerable.” That sparkle just seemed to be getting bigger and wrapping around them both. “Because ‘tis not the easiest thing to know I might be aware of your innermost secrets.”

  She grinned because she just couldn’t help it.

  He grinned as well.

  Then they just sort of got lost in one another.

  Somewhere along the line, she heard Grant bid them goodnight, saying there was a cave nearby that would suit his old bones better. Though Grant could clearly take care of himself, she was fairly certain he asked Bryce to join him for protection. And somewhere in there as her and Graham’s eyes held she heard Bryce grumble about how wrong it was to leave his potential true love behind.

  Though they waved them off, she really only ever saw Graham as they settled back next to each other as if they’d been doing it all their lives. They had a sturdy tree at their back and a warm fire at their front as they continued to hold hands.

  “What happened with Kenna?” she said softly because as far as she was concerned, that’s all that really mattered. “I know she’s being detoured with Conall, Lindsay, and Sven but...” she squeezed his hand, needing to get to the bottom of things. “How’d she feel about going in a different direction than you?”

  He slanted a look at her. “Why does it sound like you already know the answer to that?”

  So she told him. Every last word Kenna had shared because she didn’t want secrets between them. Not if they were truly friends.

  “I’m not sure what she meant about Fraser,” she said softly, delicately. “But I thought you should know she’s got some ideas when it comes to...well, you know...”

  “His death,” Graham murmured, troubled. “I dinnae ken why she never shared this with me...”

  “Well, it sounds like a complicated situation, sugar.” She squeezed his hand again. “She loved you...” She didn’t want to tell him what Kenna had told her but knew she had to. “She still does.”

  “Aye,” he said softly, pausing a moment as he appeared to co
ntemplate how to phrase things. “But ‘tis not like that betwixt us, at least not for me. It never has been.” He shook his head. “I intended to marry her to help her clan and to keep her out of the hands of a husband who would likely be twice her age and treat her poorly. That was all.” His eyes met hers, pained. “I never intended to betray Fraser’s memory.”

  She thought about the things Kenna had said. How he had so valiantly fought for her. “Did you ever love her, Graham? Even for a moment?” She tilted her head in question, trying to be as gentle as possible. “Because I can’t imagine you not loving her at some point if y’all were so close.”

  “I tried.” His eyes never left hers. “I wanted to.”

  What to make of that? “What stopped you? Fraser?”

  “Nay.” He shook his head. “Kenna and I could have been together before them. There was enough of a bond but not...” He paused as his eyes turned to the fire and his voice grew softer. “I didnae see her with the passion a lad should see a lass. ‘Twas just a deep friendship. We grew up together.”

  “Oh,” she replied, not expecting such a simple, straightforward answer. So the chemistry just wasn’t there. At least not on his part it seemed. “I’m sorry to hear that.” Though, in all ‘shame on her’ honesty, she really wasn’t. She genuinely liked Kenna though which made her feel guilty as sin at her own thoughts. “I really am sorry.”

  His eyes slid her way. “Why are you sorry?”

  “Well, because.” She rounded her eyes at him. “You’ve got a history with her. A past. Memories.” She shook her head. “Where I come from that means somethin’ I guess.” She bit her tongue and frowned, well aware she was about to ramble before she even opened her mouth. “Not to say I don’t think what y’all shared meant somethin’. I suppose, in the end, the heart just wants what it wants, eh? Or in this case not so much.”

  What the hell was coming out of her mouth? What she wouldn’t do to just erase this whole conversation. Just make it go away. Because she felt like a fool. Not only that, she felt like she was letting Kenna down somehow when she knew full well she wasn’t.