Thirty Nights With a Highland Husband

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Thirty Nights With a Highland Husband Page 13

by Melissa Mayhue


  His eyes glittered with emotion as he looked down at her; his breathing was ragged and she didn’t think it was from the exertion of carrying her. That he was furious, there was little doubt.

  “I need to talk to you about—”

  “I’ve nothing I want to hear from you. There are forces at work here you obviously choose to ignore. I’ll no allow you to put yerself in that danger.”

  Forces at work? That was what she was trying to tell him. “Exactly. That’s why we need to discuss—”

  “There will be no discussion on this point. You’ll do as I say, and you’ll give me no grief on it, or I swear I’ll bind you to that bed.”

  “What?” Who did he think he was? She stood up, facing him. “You have no right to treat me like this.”

  “I hae every right. I’m sworn to protect you and I’m going to do exactly that, in spite of you, it seems.”

  “You can’t just order me around, lock me in here and expect me to stand for it.”

  They glared at one another, toe-to-toe, for perhaps the longest moment of Cate’s life. Without warning, he leaned down and swept her off her feet. One hand behind her head and one arm beneath her knees, he lifted her, bringing her face close to his own.

  “I dinna expect you to stand for it,” he whispered, his breath warm on her face before he crushed his lips to hers, sapping the fight out of her with the explosiveness of his kiss.

  She thought to push at him, but instead found her traitorous arms reaching to twine about his neck. They’d barely found their destination when she felt herself flying through the air, once again tossed to the bed.

  Connor reached the door in two long strides. “What I do expect is that you stay in that bed tonight, and remain in this room as yer told.” He walked out and slammed the door behind him.

  The pillow Cate angrily threw after him bounced quietly off the closed door, landing on the floor with a small poof, doing nothing to soothe her frustration.

  CHAPTER 13

  Aye, she rejected my offer again.” Holding the wet cloth to his face, Blane paced across the room before turning to glare at his father. “But I dinna doubt I could hae had her if Connor had no arrived.”

  The jeering sound of derision from his father inflamed him. He threw the cloth to the floor. The effects of the whisky were gone, too quickly, as always, leaving him to face this without any protection for his raw nerves.

  “She weakened, Father. I sensed it. I could hae changed her mind.”

  “It disna matter. You dinna want her anyway.” The old man tapped his finger thoughtfully against chin. “We’ll simply hae to remove her. It’s the only way.”

  “No. You’ll no do her any harm. You said I could do this my way.” Blane stopped his pacing. He had to do something, think of something before it was too late. “I’ve changed my mind, anyway. I want her now.”

  “Because she belongs to Connor? Because he wants her?” Artair’s eyes glittered with a greedy intensity.

  “Perhaps. Just as you once coveted what was his.” He paused for only a heartbeat. “As you coveted what was his father’s.”

  “Dinna provoke me,” Artair screamed at him, a fevered look about him. “I’m laird here.” He leaned toward Blane. “He canna stay. He must not. We hae to find a way to send him back to his king. Too much depends on his leaving. I’ll no lose everything now.” He returned to tapping his finger on his chin, the movement turning random and erratic.

  “Challenge him for the wench if you want her so badly.” The hard voice came from the shadows.

  “No.” Both men simultaneously replied.

  “It would no work.” Blane answered quickly.

  He’d always suspected he was no physical match for his cousin. After tonight, he knew it to be true. Even sober, he’d have no chance of defeating the man.

  “We canna risk bringing the king down on our heads by doing injury to Connor. It must be done in another way, the marriage stopped somehow. I’ll hae to think on this.” Artair drew himself up, gathering his courage. Glancing to the shadows, he lowered his voice almost to a whisper. “And there’s Rosalyn’s protection of him to consider.”

  “Then remove her as well.” The voice in the shadows held no mercy.

  “Never. Have you lost yer wits?” Artair’s eyes glittered now with fear. He turned to Blane. “Yer way has not worked. After this latest encounter with yer cousin, it mayhaps be best if you dinna draw his attention for a few days. For now, go to the MacPherson. Assure him he’ll have his payment for our debt by month’s end.”

  “Yer debt, Father,” he corrected. “I’ll assure him of payment on yer debt.” Blane hated the MacPherson almost as much as he hated his father. With a mocking bow, he turned and left.

  “You must never, ever speak of harming Rosalyn again. Dinna even think on it. You know the legend. It would be the end of us.” Artair had the air of a man half crazed as he ran from the room.

  From the shadows, a bitterly mocking comment echoed down the hall after the laird: “Would that the gods deliver me from superstitious fools and cowards.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Cate hadn’t seen Connor since he’d unceremoniously dumped her in this room four nights ago, laying down the law like some overbearing caveman.

  He’d refused to talk to her then and he’d refused to talk to her since, even though she’d repeatedly sent Mairi and Rosalyn to ask him to come to her. It seemed as though once he’d made up his mind, he wouldn’t discuss, he wouldn’t compromise, he wouldn’t even listen. Now he was refusing to speak to the other women as well.

  Compared to him, her brothers stacked up pathetically short in their teasing attempts to make her life miserable. Good thing they’d all never meet.

  Even when it had occurred to her that first night that Beast had been missing since her accident, she’d finally had to resort to bribing Duncan into delivering that message to him.

  Duncan. He infuriated her as well. Every time she opened her door, there he was, hounding her every move. She grimaced. And in order to get her message about Beast delivered, she’d had to promise not to try to elude him or make his job more difficult. He’d completely refused to allow her to leave the castle, even to set foot in the courtyard, threatening to toss her over his shoulder as Connor had if she didn’t “behave like a good lass.” The last two days he hadn’t even allowed her to leave her room.

  Seriously. These men were way out of hand.

  “Damn them both. I hate being treated like a runaway child.” She threw herself down on the bed, staring up at the canopy above.

  Then, to compound matters, she’d learned from Mairi that Connor had moved his things from the barracks where he’d been staying with Duncan into the room next door to hers, presumably to make sure she didn’t sneak out of her room at night.

  And that was by far the worst thing of all.

  Because when she was absolutely, brutally honest with herself, she acknowledged that lying here at night knowing he was in the room next door, wondering what he was doing and why he wouldn’t even speak to her, was the most frustrating part of the past four days.

  She’d even stooped to pressing her ear against the wall that separated their rooms last night in hopes of hearing something, anything, that might make her feel she’d had contact with him. But there had been nothing, no sound at all from his room. Or at least nothing that carried through the thick stone.

  After he’d rescued her in the stable, she’d known he was beyond furious with her. But then, in the courtyard, the way he’d kissed her. Never in her entire life had she experienced anything to compare with that. Afterward she’d thought just maybe . . .

  “Stupid, stupid, stupid.” She pounded her fists on the pillow above her head.

  What was wrong with her? This whole trip-through-time thing must have scrambled her brains. She hadn’t been able to control her emotions in the least since she’d been here. All that awful, arrogant Neanderthal had to do was look at her and her heart starte
d pounding, her hands shook, and she wanted . . . well, whatever it was she wanted, it sure as heck wasn’t happening.

  She needed to clear her mind, to unwind and stop thinking about him. Cate breathed slowly and concentrated on relaxing. She would let her mind go blank and roam free.

  Deep breath in, deep breath out, just like in the yoga class.

  But when she closed her eyes, she saw only Connor. Connor taking her hand, Connor in the rain looking down at her, his eyes filled with anger and pain, Connor pulling her close to kiss her.

  “Aarrgghh,” she growled, sitting up in a huff, slamming her fists into the mattress. She’d never been any good at that mindfulness relaxation crap.

  Cate looked over at the table next to her bed. There was the pendant that had first brought him to her. It sat like a great unblinking eye staring at her from its nest on the crumpled strip of plaid she’d used in her hair since her first day here. Connor had tossed it down on the bed next to her when he’d tossed her there.

  They all saw it as Connor’s territorial marker, did they? It’d be a dark day in hell before she put that back in her hair again.

  She stood and began to pace, turning her consideration to another of her great frustrations over the past few days, the mystery of the stone bruises.

  She had tried to discuss it with Connor, first on the night when she’d discovered them and again later. She’d attempted to get him to come talk to her so she could bring up the subject of the marks on the horse, but he wasn’t talking—or listening—to anything.

  She hesitated to say anything to Mairi or Rosalyn. If someone had intentionally spooked her horse, as she believed, then she didn’t want that same someone coming after either of her friends. They would be safer if she kept them in the dark. If she told either of them, they might try to hunt for clues on their own. Worse yet, they might find the person, and then what would happen?

  She was still pacing, trying to manipulate the limited number of mental puzzle pieces into some sort of reasonable picture, when she heard raised voices in the hallway. She threw open the door to find Duncan blocking Mairi’s access to the room.

  “Yer no listening to me, lassie. She’s no going anywhere until Connor returns.”

  Watching them now brought to mind the old saying about the immovable object meeting the irresistible force.

  “That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Duncan, you big oaf,” Mairi yelled at him. “He’s back. He’s back with Beast and . . . ” She caught sight of Cate standing behind Duncan. “Cate, you hae to come with me. Beast has been hurt. Connor’s just ridden in with the poor creature hanging over his horse.”

  Her heart in her throat, Cate attempted to push past Duncan, only to find her way firmly blocked.

  “Damn it, Duncan, move. This is serious. I have to go.” She pushed at him again, trying to slip past his massive frame.

  “Aye, lassie, it may be serious, but yer no going anywhere. And I’ll thank you to remember yer promise. Connor says yer to stay put, so stay put you will.” He started pulling her door closed.

  “Mairi. Go find out for me what’s going on.” The door slammed in her face.

  Pacing the floor and waiting for news, Cate would never have believed an hour could go by so slowly.

  * * *

  “But you’re sure he’s going to be all right?” Cate asked again, and once again Mairi nodded her head affirmatively.

  The two of them sat on the floor of Cate’s room, eating dinner in front of the fireplace. At least Duncan had allowed her company tonight.

  “Connor went looking for him right after you were finally able to get Duncan to listen to you.”

  They both shook their heads, exchanging a “men-are-so-dense” look.

  “He’s been gone the last two days, tracking Beast. Connor says that the arrow still being in his leg kept him from losing too much blood. He’d already tended the poor creature’s wounds before he got him back to the castle, and now the dog is resting in Connor’s room. Duncan will watch over him.”

  Cate snorted. “How’s he supposed to watch over Beast when he’s busy playing prison guard outside my door all day?”

  “He’s not now. They’re all three of them keeping watch over you from Connor’s room. Connor and Duncan hae been in there since before I came up with yer dinner.” She narrowed her eyes speculatively. “From what little I heard”—a small guilty smile played around her lips—“before they noticed me, you ken? They’re planning yer riding out.”

  Connor had been gone for two days. Now he was back in the castle. Right next door, and she hadn’t even known.

  Irritating, arrogant, bossy, aggravating man.

  Fine. She was almost looking forward to the riding-out just so she would have the uninterrupted opportunity to give him a piece of her mind.

  Mairi was still talking. “There Anabella was, carrying on about yer making life so difficult for everyone taking all yer meals in yer room.” She leaned back against the nearest chair and chuckled. “I only wish you could hae seen her face when Rosalyn told her how much you had missed yer pleasant dinners together with her.”

  Both women grinned.

  “I’m beginning to think your aunt Rosalyn has a wicked sense of humor.”

  “Aye. She does say she finds her greatest joy in the simple things.”

  They both giggled over that.

  “So, have I missed anything else?”

  “Och, aye. I must be going daft. I canna believe I almost forgot the most wonderful thing of all.” Mairi’s eyes shone with excitement. “The king himself will be attending yer wedding. Lyall returned just this midday with the news. I suppose that’s the errand my uncle sent him on, though I’ve no yet had the chance to talk to him alone. I was in the hall when he arrived. At first everyone was so concerned because of his bandaged arm, but then he told us about the king, and everyone started talking all at once. Anabella’s already in a fair state about it, worrying how she’s going to impress the king, I imagine.”

  “I wouldn’t think the king would make a habit of attending too many weddings. Does he?”

  “It’s that much he thinks of Connor that he’s coming.” Mairi tilted her head to the side. “I’ve heard talk that Connor saved the king’s life once, but I’ve never been able to get him to tell me anything about it. He never wants to talk to me about what happened when he’s been off in the king’s service. Some of it must be awful for him, I ken that. But I know he must talk to Lyall. They spend hours together in the lists when he comes home.” She sighed and shook her head. “Sometimes I feel verra left out.”

  Cate understood exactly how she felt. Regardless of how involved she might be in the family business, she was never included in the discussions of tactics or the actual operations. And they never talked about it when they came home, at least not to her.

  It seemed she was constantly finding similarities between herself and Mairi, between Connor and the men in her family. Once again it occurred to her how little men had really changed in the centuries between her time and this.

  Listening to her friend now, she realized that women hadn’t changed so much either. Stick Mairi in a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and she’d fit right into any group of young women walking down the street in Denver. She glanced at Mairi’s bare feet, the emerald ring sparkling on her toe, and revised that thought. Better make that any group of young women in Boulder.

  Mairi sighed deeply. “I’m even thinking of wearing shoes for the wedding. I hate to give Anabella the satisfaction, but I’d no want to embarrass Connor in front of the king.” An attractive blush stained the girl’s cheeks. “I’ve never seen a king before.”

  “Well, that makes two of us,” Cate murmured thoughtfully.

  Life just continued to get stranger and stranger. To think, Richard had been so impressed because a couple of congressmen and a senator were supposed to come to her wedding back home. Here, because of Connor, not her, she was getting married in front of King Alexander III of Scotl
and.

  * * *

  “Were you able to follow the tracks at all?” Duncan sat on a stool by the fireplace.

  Connor shook his head. “The rains had ruined much of what was there, most of the area turned to mud. Once they veered into the stream, I lost them, as they’d intended. I checked both upstream and down, but didn’t find where they’d come out.” He leaned back in the hard chair he’d pulled close to the open doorway. From this spot he could see both Cate’s door and the hallway, and ensure that no one could overhear their conversation. “I should hae noticed Beast’s absence earlier. If I’d gotten to him sooner, perhaps I would have found more evidence.”

  Found more, perhaps, but at what price? He would have been gone when Cate blundered into the stables. Even after four days he hadn’t been able to rid himself of the uncomfortable prickle of fear and the overriding anger that accompanied it.

  “So you learned precious little.” Duncan shook his head, reaching down to stroke the dog sleeping next to him.

  “I learned we were right to suspect treachery. Someone was in those woods. I dinna ken how, but I’m sure they were responsible for Cate’s accident. I only need the proof to tie it together. And there’s no doubt they thought to kill Beast when he found them.”

  “They?”

  “Aye. I found tracks for at least two separate mounts.”

  “I thought yer uncle was being too accommodating to this whole setup. What do we do now?”

  “We hae to think of what they may do before they do it and be ready.”

  His uncle. Artair was behind it, he was sure, though he had no proof. He’d known when the older man gave in on the wedding with nothing more than a demand for following the old customs it was merely a bid to buy time.

  He hated this. It was like the kind of political intrigue that permeated the king’s court, the one thing he detested about being in Alexander’s private service. Give him a battle on an open field facing a known opponent any day.

 

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