“No. Would you lead me to the end of the vendor tents, please? The one at the end looks busy, and I can’t see everyone in the crowd. The colorful blue one. Do you know what tent that is?”
“Aye, ‘tis the rock toss. If ye land the rock square on a piece of wood, ye get the prize.”
“Oh, I love carnival games!” she said, her word choice puzzling him. “What are the prizes?”
“Different things. Usually ribbons or meat pies or ye can have the seer tell ye what’s to come for ye later in life.”
“Like a fortune-teller? A psychic?”
“A what? I dinnae know about that, but we have seers. Some are talented, some are false. Ye take yer chance. They take yer coin and tell ye what ye wish to hear is my guess.”
“Oh, I want to try and win a reading.”
He shot her a look, his familiar ye-cannae-do-that look. Sure enough, he said, “Ye cannae do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because ‘tis for men only. We win and give our prize to the lass. Shall I try to win ye some ribbons for yer hair?” His crooked grin made her laugh, even though she hated that she couldn’t play herself.
“Fine, you can win for me if we must do it that way.” Her scowl amused him. He’d wager she probably could win on her own, though he didn’t know many other lasses capable of such a feat.
They arrived at the booth, probably the largest one there. The woman running the booth was gray-haired and wide in the hips, though she had eyes that looked as if they could see right through to your soul. There was something else odd in her gaze, though he couldn’t quite decide what it was. On one side of her booth she had a multitude of ribbons, and turkey legs and apple tarts were arranged on the other.
“Win something for yer lass?” She waved Brann right over.
Allison asked, “If he wins, will you tell me my future?”
“Future? Nay, I’ll not tell ye anything. If ye win, ye get turkey legs, ribbons, or apple tarts.
Brann said, “I’ll try. I’ll take the turkey leg if she doesnae want it.”
***
Allison’s heart sunk, but she shrugged and stood back to watch him as the crowd cheered him on. Brann managed to land his first rock perfectly. While she applauded him, a warm breath whispered in her ear. “He’s searching for ye.”
She spun around, expecting to see the old woman there, but she stood a good distance away from her, an odd smirk on her face. “What did you say?”
The old woman held both hands up. “I dinnae say anything.”
But Allison knew better.
Brann won two more rounds before they told him he could win no more. He turned around with a huge smile on his face, wrapping his arm around her. “Ribbons or turkey legs? We have three coming.”
Rather than answer, Allison leaned close to the woman running the booth. Up close, she thought the woman’s eyes were a different color, but she stepped away from her quickly. “Are you a seer?”
Brann froze next to her, waiting to see what the woman would say. She shook her head. “My apologies, but the seer did not come with us today. Choose something else.”
Allison nodded and selected her two ribbons while Brann chomped happily on his turkey leg. As the woman handed the ribbons to her, she said, “There are much better ones in Edinburgh. I’m sure ye’d find exactly what ye’re looking for there.”
Allison was so befuddled she didn’t know how to respond. Having completely missed the subtext of their exchange, Brann wrapped his arm around her waist and moved her down the path toward the armorer’s tent.
But not before the woman gave her one last piece of advice. “Ye should go to Edinburgh. He’ll find ye if ye do not.”
Once they were far enough away not to be heard, she turned to Brann. “I swear she whispered something in my ear when you were tossing your rocks. She said a man is searching for me. Who could it be?”
“Did ye ask her?”
“I did, but she claimed she’d never spoken to me. Oh, Brann. I’m so confused, but thank you for my ribbons. I need them.” She couldn’t help but glance back at the strange woman one more time. Was she a seer or not?
Allie shuddered. She’d already been grabbed twice.
Who was after her?
***
They hadn’t gone far when Wallas Sinclair caught up with them, the fury in his gaze visible from across the field. He ushered them away from the eavesdropping crowd into an empty clearing off to the side, not far from the obstacle course.
“Sinclair,” Brann said. “Ye are troubled about something?”
“Aye, I am,” Wallas said. “Are ye a traitor, MacKay? I see ye chatting with the enemy, yer brother.”
“A traitor? Ye dare to call me a traitor?” Brann thought his head would explode, but not before he choked Wallas Sinclair so he could watch him draw his last breath. He had to let go of Allison’s hand because his fist had clenched so tight it had to hurt. She stepped back but stayed close.
“Aye, ye are allied with me, not yer brother, and I just saw ye speak with him.”
“He’s my brother,” he sneered, his face now a hand’s length away from Sinclair’s. “And I’ll talk to both of my brothers as I please. If ye cannae accept it, then abolish our alliance.” He wasn’t honoring the alliance anyway, but if he could get Sinclair to reveal his intentions before they settled this, he’d be a wise man.
“I’ll accept it if ye swear ye arenae planning agin me.”
“Yer name was never mentioned. We spoke of the contests. But I’m glad ye are here. Are ye the one sending men after my lass?”
“What? Why would I send someone after yer lass? I offered for her and ye rejected me. I accept that from my ally.”
“Because a man grabbed me behind the keep the day you were there,” Allison said with a haughty air about her. “Did you send him?”
Brann jerked his head around at this new piece of information she’d just revealed. Fear of what could have happened was quickly followed by anger. She hadn’t mentioned a thing.
“What?” Brann asked. “Ye were attacked on my land and ye dinnae tell me?”
“Ye allow her to speak?”
He spun around to face Sinclair and said through clenched teeth, “Aye, I allow her to speak. I trust her words more than I do yers.”
“Now ye call me a liar?”
Before he could respond—or lose his temper and punch the bastard—Taran came up beside him, followed by Ewan Murray.
“Do ye need help, brother?”
He couldn’t believe it. Taran had come out of nowhere acting as though they’d healed their differences and would carry on as they’d always done, just in time to give credence to Sinclair’s accusation. He hadn’t intended to honor his commitment to Sinclair, but he hadn’t had the time to travel to Sinclair land to speak with the man. This wasn’t how he’d wanted to end the alliance, but after hearing Allison’s revelation, he didn’t care.
“Nay, I can handle myself and I dinnae need help from any of ye. And aye, she’s my lass, and aye, she can speak if she wishes.” He spun on his heel to face her. “Now, who attacked ye on my land and what did he do? I’ll flail him until he has nae skin, here in front of all. Just name him or point him out. Was he wearing the Sinclair’s plaid?”
She stared at the plaid the chieftain wore. “No.”
“Aye, because he wasn’t one of my men,” Sinclair snapped, appearing even more infuriated than before.
“Brann, I did not see his face. He grabbed me from behind, but I fought him, kicked him in his bollocks…”
“Allison, do ye no’ understand that when I declare ye as mine, the declaration carries with it the promise of protection? That I’ll let nae one touch what’s mine?” Stepping away from the others, he drew his sword so he could swing it over his head and connect with the ground, releasing his anger. What else could he do?
Murray stepped in and said, “We’re all here for a festival. We need no’ kill each other. After all, Bra
nn’s clan and mine have just healed from the sickness. He brought his lass to help my men heal.”
“Ye are in with the Murray, too? And what sickness did ye all have?”
“I’m nae in with anyone!” he bellowed. “All alliances are off, no matter who ye are.”
“What has ye so upset, Brann?” Murray asked.
Allison reached for his sword arm, rubbing it up and down in an attempt to calm him. It wasn’t working.
He’d kill the man who’d dared to touch her.
Twice.
Chapter Seventeen
Despite the sticky web of alliances and lies he’d found himself in, only one thing mattered to Brann. He fought to calm himself before he turned around to Allison, took her hand in his, and said, “Tell me. I need to know all about this man or men who have attempted to abduct ye. I dinnae care about the rest.” Looking up at the others, he said, “Ye can all fight it out. It doesnae matter to me. She matters.”
She blinked and he could see the misting in her eyes that she fought to hold back.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the first attack. I was too focused on…well…everything else. As soon as I stepped out your back door to go to the kitchens, he came up from behind me, grabbing my waist. Just as this one did. I fought them both off.”
Brann whispered, “Was it anyone ye recognized from our clan?”
“No, he ran away over the curtain wall. If it was the same man, why would he wait until now to try again? There would have been other opportunities, especially when everyone was sick.”
Brann resheathed his sword and rubbed his hand across his brow. He wrapped his other arm around her and turned to the three men still standing nearby. “I want ye to find out who did this. It had to be one of yer clanmates. Nearly every man here is a MacKay, Murray, or Sinclair.”
“Or MacDonnell,” Sinclair said.
Brann had forgotten about Shona’s clan. Perhaps someone felt he hadn’t honored his agreement with their clan chief because he’d allowed her to go to Taran.
A whistle near the obstacle course beckoned all of the contestants to come forward.
Brann said, “All alliances are off until I find out who did this to Allison. I want to know.”
Taran and Ewan headed off to get their horses, but Sinclair held back. As soon as he was sure they were out of hearing distance, he said, “Ye’ll regret this. I’d planned on using our alliance after this festival.”
“Until I find out who’s attacking Allison, everything is off.”
Sinclair gave him a long look, no doubt trying to intimidate him, and then nodded and headed off toward the last race.
She reached for his hand. “I’m sorry, Brann. I should have told you, but I really did forget.”
“Think on it. Mayhap I’ll not ride in this competition.”
At that moment, Lachie tore over, waving his hands urgently.
“Go ahead,” she insisted, squeezing his hand. “I promise not to move from Angus’s side. Make Lachie happy.”
He kissed her forehead, and they strolled over to the obstacle course together, hand in hand. Lachie threw his arms around them, then took up Allison’s free hand, swinging it. They found Angus, and Brann gave him the instructions for his guards—they were not to leave Allison alone for even a moment. Before he left to fetch Star, he scanned the crowd for a long moment, looking for anyone who appeared out of place.
No one stood out.
He took care of Star, pampering him like a bairn, praising him, rubbing him down, and feeding him an apple, which he took with one bite. Then Lachie snuck him another one. There were ten challengers. The two with the quickest time through the obstacle course would go head-to-head at the end, and the champion would be declared in front of the crowd at the end of the festival. This win would give Brann two wins, and he’d probably be declared the festival champion since the other two contests had been won by two different men.
He made it through the first round with the second-best time. But to his dismay, Taran had come in with the best time.
He would go head-to-head against his brother. That forced him to pace.
“A ten-minute rest and the finals will commence,” the announcer declared. Taran made his way toward him, but he intentionally turned away, grabbing Allison by the hand and heading over to the drinking well.
“Brann, I really wish you’d mend this disagreement between the two of you,” she said. A little line formed between her brows, something that oft happened when she was vexed with him. “I understand why you were upset at first, but you should be over it by now. If nothing else, it’s in your best interest to have your neighbor as an ally, not an enemy.”
He swallowed a long drink and spat most of it out. “I dinnae trust any water unless ‘tis boiled. Someone taught me that.” He gave her a lazy grin and pinched her backside.
“Yikes,” she squealed in reaction, taken aback by his pinch, though it hadn’t hurt a bit. “You pinch?”
“Nay, I just like to touch, and it has been a while since I’ve been able to touch ye the way I like. My hand lost control so close to yer skin.” He waggled his brows at her, a sly grin on his face. “Believe me, there are many other things I’d rather do to ye.”
She narrowed her gaze at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest as if trying to decide exactly what she wished to do with him. “My, but you are a horny beast.”
“A what? Yer sayings. I just dinnae understand them.”
“Horny. Someone who wants sex all the time.”
“Aye, then. Call me horny if ye like,” he whispered, giving her another teasing rub along her sweet bottom. “But only for ye.” He nibbled on her earlobe, and she sighed in that gusty way he loved.
“You are distracting me on purpose.”
“Is it working?”
The gleam in her eyes told him she liked to tease. “Aye…nay,” she said. “Dammit, now I’m talking like you. Could you please make up with your brother? You need to get over this.”
“Nay. Could ye please stop cursing?”
Ignoring his attempt to take her off topic again, she took a step back and put her hands on her hips. “Why won’t you repair the relationship with your brother? You know how much it would mean to Lachie.”
“Because he betrayed me. Brothers dinnae betray each other.”
“Or is there another reason?”
“What other reason could there be?”
“Are you jealous? Because if Shona is the true reason, then you should demand that she return to you. Then you’ll have a good reason for being furious with one another. But this, this is just someone trying to make his brother suffer.”
“Ye think I want Shona?” Could she be telling the truth? He’d seen that wee bit of jealousy in her eyes earlier. “Shona and I couldnae be more different. Nay, I have nae interest in her.”
He saw the brief look of relief flash across her features before she spoke. “Then end this thing. Please, for everyone’s sake. You know how I miss my sisters, and it hurts me to see you and your brother at odds.”
He paused, then reached over to run his fingers through her hair. “I’ll consider it, but no’ until after the race. Will that satisfy ye for now?”
“For now, I suppose. But I won’t let up. And neither will Lachie. You’ve put him in a most difficult position.”
The whistle sounded, so he kissed her and said, “I promise to consider it later.”
He hurried back, leaving her with Angus and his men.
***
Brann was so damn stubborn. How could she have fallen in love with a man who was this stubborn?
Her eyes widened and her insides did a full flip. Who the hell had suggested she loved him? She moved closer to Angus as she watched the two men get ready for the final race. A bit uncomfortable in the big crowd, she frequently glanced behind her just to be certain the MacKay guards still surrounded her.
Her gaze returned to the man now on horseback in front of her, sitting astr
ide his beast with confidence. He had a way of melting her heart from a distance, enough so that her eyes teared up at the thought that he cared for her.
Somehow, she’d done something right in this strange land, something she’d been unable to do at home. She’d managed to attract a proud Highlander, one who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind, one who was brave and honorable yet knew how to be tender and gentle, one who was all man but treated her as his equal.
He was perfect, and as crazy as it sounded, she did love him. She wasn’t ready to tell him, but even saying it to herself made her break into a wide smile. He’d accept his brother eventually—he was too softhearted not to, though she’d never tell him so.
Lachie danced from one foot back to the other while he waited for the race to begin, his gaze ping-ponging from one brother to the other. A moment later, the referee holding a sword between them lowered the weapon, and the two brothers took off down the obstacle course, leaping over fences and streams and cutting sharp corners. The sight of Brann on his horse was exhilarating—the man was like one with his beast, exhibiting a surprising grace.
Out of nowhere, another horse broke through the trees at the end of the field, galloping directly toward the crowd at the periphery. Then, at the very last minute, he turned his horse directly toward Allison. Shouts from the crowd blended together, becoming nothing but background noise, as her focus narrowed on the man who was now headed straight for her. A mask protected his identity, which couldn’t mean anything good.
She tugged on the back of Angus’s tunic as the other guards stood in a line in front of her as protection. But then the rider abruptly turned away. Her guards relaxed, but they did so too soon—the masked man spun back around, pushing his horse into the middle of the melee, and grabbed her. He tossed her across his horse and took off back toward the forest.
She screamed and did her best to sit up, digging her nails into the man’s thighs through his trews, even biting and spitting at him, but he wouldn’t let go. Once they were in the forest, he slowed a bit, but her belly was already aching from bouncing across the spine of the massive beast.
Falling for the Chieftain: A Time Travel Romance (Enchanted Falls Trilogy, Book 3) Page 12
