Castles, Kilts and Caresses

by Carmen Caine

  “Have you had much opportunity to dance as of late?” Gyllis asked.

  “None at all. I’m afraid all there was time for was riding, eating, sleeping and fighting the English.” Sean’s belly squeezed when she smiled, her dimples dipping into the high color of her cheeks.

  “Oh my, that does sound tedious.” She assumed her place in line, standing across from him. “Do you remember how Mother used to make you partner with us during our dancing lessons?”

  “I shall never forget.” At the time, he’d considered Gyllis an annoying child. He chuckled—he’d been sixteen and she seven. And as a young squire, Sean hated being forced to partner with the lasses. He had more important things to conquer during his fostering—like proving himself to the Lord of Glenorchy and earning his knighthood. As a matter of fact, he’d rarely had time to think of anything except enforcement work. But he did love it. Duncan called him a ghost because Sean’s strengths lay in tracking and ambush.

  The fiddler stamped his foot indicating the dance was to begin and Sean locked elbows with Gyllis. Her arms were long, yet lithe. Willowy.

  She fluttered her lovely eyelashes at him. “I always thought you would rather be elsewhere than dancing with us.”

  Sean reached over and patted her hand. So small beneath his callused fingers, her skin was softer than silk. “Perhaps as children, but right now there is no place I’d rather be.”

  The dancers formed three large circles. Sean held Gyllis’s hand while another woman danced in the center. He scarcely noticed the woman to his left. Gyllis’s intoxicating scent of fresh cut flowers and honey captivated him. The bodice of her green gown was cinched taut around her waist. Creamy white breasts swelled above the neckline—not too small, and most certainly not too large. Her cleavage provided plenty to captivate his interest.

  She glanced up at him and grinned. Afraid he’d been caught staring at her breasts, Sean snapped his gaze to her eyes. By God, they were the most tantalizing color of moss. He looked closer. He’d always thought she had black rims around her irises, but the more he studied them, the more he could swear the rings were navy blue. “Exquisite.”

  “Pardon?”

  “Ah, your ey….”

  Gyllis released his hand and skipped into the center of the circle. Sean studied the others with no clue as to where they were in the reel. Well, at least if Gyllis was in the ring, she’d spin with the man directly across then return to twirl with Sean. That was the good part of dancing—if he had a lapse of attention, he could usually pick the steps back up.

  As he expected, Gyllis skipped toward him, her inordinately long chestnut tresses swishing behind her. He locked hands with her and spun. “Did I tell you how bonny you look this eve?”

  She giggled and slid back into place. Irritated to turn away and join elbows with the woman behind, Sean continued with the reel. They wound their way around the circle until again he held Gyllis’s hand in his. “You’ve become quite an accomplished dancer.”

  “Thank you.” She blessed him with her dimples again. “I daresay you could use a lesson or two from me.”

  He chuckled. Someone had noticed his inattentiveness. “It would be my pleasure to take advantage of your offer someday soon.”

  Her mouth twisted. “But you must return to the borders.”

  “Aye, for a time.” The music stopped. “But I shan’t be away indefinitely.”

  “Miss Gyllis.” Alan MacCoul stepped beside her. “Would you dance with me?”

  Sean’s gut churned. If only he could challenge the bastard on the spot. But a friendly gathering was no place to make a scene. His jaw twitched. One dance.

  She cast Sean a questioning look. He tightened his grip on her hand and leaned to her ear. “Meet me in the courtyard after this tune.”

  Her gasp was barely audible, but she met his gaze with more than trust filling her eyes. The excitement written on her face made him yearn for more than a kiss, though that was all he could hope for.

  Sean released his hold and bowed. “M’lady.” Then he spun on his heel.

  Why does that bastard plague me every time I turn around? And what the hell is he doing dressed like he’s going to a king’s coronation?

  As he headed outside, he ground his fist into his palm. He had no business arranging a secret meeting with a woman, especially his best friend’s sister. It must have been her eyes that caused my lack in judgment. I shall keep the conversation light and see her back to the hall before anyone realizes Gyllis has slipped away.

  Chapter Three

  Gyllis could hardly wait until the dance with Alan was over. She glanced at the great hall doors every time she had a clear view of them. Had Sean honestly whispered in her ear and asked to meet her in the courtyard? At long last her dreams were finally coming true.

  Her palms perspired as she skipped along in a serpentine pattern, grasping the other dancers’ hands. When she completed the circle and again clasped hands with Alan, she shuddered. With his black hair combed away from his face, he was handsome, but the way his dark eyes regarded her made Gyllis uneasy. She could never trust someone with such an intense stare. He seemed almost crazed, and starved. Alan couldn’t possibly be hungry, they’d only just dined.

  She spun outward. From the dais Duncan watched her, sitting on the edge of his chair as if he could spring across the hall any minute. Why her brother was so overwhelmingly protective was beyond her. Heaven’s stars, he’s more watchful than a father. She harrumphed. At least they want their daughters to marry and make alliances with other clans.

  When the music ended, Gyllis’s stomach swarmed with an attack of butterflies.

  “Would you care for another dance?” Alan asked.

  Her gaze darted to the doors. If she told him she planned to take a turn in the courtyard, he’d surely follow her. “Thank you, but I would be remiss if I didn’t suggest you dance with one of my sisters.”

  He grasped her hand. His touch was rough like Sean’s, but firmer and nowhere near as inviting. “But I’d prefer to dance with you.”

  Gyllis pulled her hand away and rubbed it. “Perhaps another time.” She curtsied and made the pretense of moving toward the wall while watching Duncan out of the corner of her eye. Fortunately, he’d turned his attention to a conversation with the chieftain beside him. When certain Alan wasn’t following her, she skirted toward the door. With one last glance over her shoulder to ensure no one was watching, she slipped outside.

  She stood for a moment, blinking her eyes to help them adjust to the darkness.

  A hand grasped her elbow. “Walk with me.”

  Her heart stuttered. “Sir Sean, you are full of surprises.”

  He slid his hand down her forearm and threaded his fingers through hers. “Apologies. I hope you do not think me untoward.”

  “Not at all. We’ve know each other since I can remember.” She leaned a bit closer to him. “Duncan trusts you—I trust you.”

  “Aye? Mayhap too much.” He looked at her, the whites of his eyes glowing in the moonlight. “I shouldn’t have asked you to step out with me.”

  “But I wanted to.”

  He drew her hand over his heart. “I cannot chance sullying your reputation.”

  Of course Gyllis knew what he meant, though she still looked over both shoulders. “That is why I was careful to ensure no one was watching when I slipped out of the hall.”

  He led her into the shadows at the far side of the well then turned and faced her, clasping both her hands between his much larger palms. “When I said you look bonny this eve, I really wanted to say you are more radiant than any woman in the hall.” His voice grew deeper, the rumble of it making gooseflesh run in tingling waves over her skin.

  They were standing so close she could have sworn Sean could hear her heart pattering. She emitted a nervous laugh. “You exaggerate, but I thank you.” Her insides were about to bubble out of control like a tankard too full of ale. “I cannot say how happy I am you were able to come to th
e games. I prayed you would be here.”

  “You did?” He sounded surprised. “I would have thought a lass with such a well-respected family would have far greater things on her mind than me.”

  “You are the heir to a chieftainship. I think that would qualify as a suitable subject to occupy any noble lassie’s thoughts. Unless…”

  “Unless?”

  She had to ask. “Are you promised?”

  A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest. “Nay. I’ve been too busy keeping peace in the name of King James to become mixed up in a betrothal.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders tensed. What did he mean by mixed up? She started to step away, but he tugged her closer. So near, his warm breath caressed her forehead.

  “Forgive me,” he purred. “I shouldn’t have jested.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I’m afraid I’m being overly serious. After all, we’ve been friends all our lives. Why should you not jest?”

  He brushed an errant lock of hair under her circlet. “Gyllis?”

  “Aye?”

  “Have you ever been kissed?”

  “I—” Before she could utter her next word, Sean’s lips brushed hers in the most feathery kiss she’d ever imagined. Her head spun. With a sigh, she swooned into him. “I’ve nay been kissed like that before.”

  “That was no kiss.” He wrapped his arms around her as if creating a protective barrier where nothing in the world could harm her. His face looked incredibly bold in the moon glow—desire filled his eyes, yet the dark shadow of his beard and long, wavy hair gave him a look of danger.

  Hot blood thrummed beneath her skin as he studied her lips. His breath smelled of mint laced with a hint of aged whisky. Her tongue slipped out and wet her bottom lip.

  Please, kiss me again.

  With a tilt of his head, Sean plied her with his sultry mouth. Gyllis’s knees wobbled, making her body crush into his hard chest. Her breasts molded into him, filling with desire. She closed her eyes and melted. If there was a heaven, she’d found it in his arms.

  He spread his lips slightly and probed with his tongue. Gyllis’s eyes flashed open and she tried to tug her head away, but Sean’s hand slid up and cradled her crown. Relaxing, she parted her mouth. It felt too good not to play along. Then he stroked her tongue. Shivers coursed through her body.

  This kissing is earth shattering.

  Again closing her eyes, she followed Sean’s lead while he swirled his tongue with hers, as if their mouths were dancing. Then he trailed feathery kisses along her neck.

  “Now that was a kiss, lass.” His deep voice rumbled with intoxicating resonance.

  Floating. I must be floating. “I cannot tell you how long I’ve wanted you to do that.”

  “Aye? I reckon I’ve thought about it for quite some time myself.”

  “Honestly?” Gyllis still could not believe she stood there in Sean’s arms. “Why did you wait so long?”

  He chuckled. “Your brother isn’t overly fond of the idea, considering he and I are both the king’s enforcers.”

  “If it were up to my brother, I’d live in spinsterhood the rest of my days.”

  “I doubt that, but ’tis hard for him to see his younger sister in the arms of a man.”

  She skimmed her finger along his bearded chin. “Would you feel that way—if you had a sister, that is?”

  “Aye, I suppose I would.” His breath skimmed hot on her face as he drew nearer and kissed her cheek. “I cannot bear to think of another man kissing you.”

  She grew bold, rose on her toes and kissed his lips. “I like kissing you.”

  “Mm.” Sean slid his fingers along her neck and splayed them through her tresses as his mouth again plied hers with the most rapturous kiss imaginable.

  Swooning in his arms, Gyllis wanted this moment to last forever. If only she and Sean were completely alone and not at a fete with people mulling about, she’d keep her arms wrapped around him and kiss him until the sun came up.

  “Unhand her, MacDougall,” demanded a gruff voice. “Taking advantage of the Lord of Glenorchy’s sister? I always kent you were a cur.”

  Sean tugged Gyllis behind him and faced Alan MacCoul. “You’re prying where you have no business.”

  “Am I now?” Alan sauntered toward them. “You were holding the lady in your arms and I’ve heard not a word of your betrothal.”

  Gyllis started to step forward. “Mr. MacCoul—”

  Sean stopped her advance with a straight arm, glaring at Alan. “Why are you always poking your nose in my affairs?” In an instant, Sean’s voice had gone from soothing to a deadly growl.

  Alan fingered his dirk, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve never been able to tolerate a spoilt chieftain’s son.”

  His dirk hissed from its scabbard. In one motion Alan lunged.

  Gyllis screamed.

  Sean sprang to the side and grabbed Alan’s arm, twisting him away from Gyllis. The dirk dropped. As she skittered against the wall, Sean flipped the blackguard onto his back. Before she could blink, the MacDougall warrior had him pinned to the ground with his fingers clamped around his neck. “Why my father tolerates your shite, I’ll never know.”

  Alan choked and kicked his feet to no avail. “You-you’ve no clue who I am, do you?” he croaked.

  “What are you talking about?” Sean leaned in. “I ought to—”

  Duncan barreled into the courtyard, brandishing his enormous sword. “Gyllis! What are you doing out here?”

  She clutched her fists under her chin and shot a panicked glance to Sean. “I…I…I…”

  “Get your bonny arse inside and find your mother. Bless it, must I weld a ball and chain around your ankle?”

  “But…” She scooted past Sean and Alan, her hands trembling. “He protected me.”

  Sean kept his eyes on Alan, but inclined his head toward her. “I shall see you anon, Miss Gyllis.”

  “Until the morrow, Sir Sean.” She hastened to the door, but before entering, turned to watch.

  Duncan pointed his sword at Alan’s temple. “Be on your way MacCoul. This is a time of truce, no matter your quarrel with MacDougall. All can be settled with a bit of healthy competition.”

  Sean released his grasp and stood, palming a dagger. “I shall relish such an opportunity.”

  Alan scrambled to his feet, retrieved his dirk and shook it at them both. “This will never be over. I will imprison you in irons and laugh while your body rots in a dank and musty cave.” The hatred in the man’s voice was palpable.

  Why on earth is he so bitter? Chewing her lip, Gyllis darted inside and skirted around the noisy hall before Duncan could chastise her yet again.

  Clasping her hand taut to her chest, she raced toward Helen.

  “Gyllis, Ma has had us searching all over for you. Where have you been?”

  She grabbed Helen’s hands and tugged her toward the stairwell. “Hurry. I’m bursting at the seams to tell you.”

  “What is it? You look like you could dance on the rafter beams.”

  Gyllis waggled her eyebrows. “I probably could if someone gave me a lift.” She raced up the winding steps and into the tiny chamber where all four sisters were appointed to sleep. She closed the door and caught her breath. “You’ll never believe it.”

  “What?”

  “I know not what was more romantic,” Gyllis bubbled. “The kiss or that he fought for my virtue.”

  “A kiss?”

  Gyllis grasped Helen’s hands and spun her in a circle. “Aye. At last Sir Sean kissed me.”

  Helen giggled. “Honestly? How scandalous—and here at Beltane with so many people about?”

  Spinning off across the room, Gyllis hugged herself. “Aye.” She stopped and swayed in place. “It was glorious, Helen. I felt like I was floating away on a wispy cloud.”

  Her sister drew her hand to her lips. “And you said he fought for your virtue?”

  “After he kissed me, Alan MacCoul came out and drew his dirk—said all sorts of vi
le things.”

  “Oh no,” Helen gasped with her eyes wide. “That dreadful man.”

  “Aye, but in the blink of an eye, Sean disarmed him and wrestled him to the ground. Why I’ve never seen a man move so fast.”

  “Did he hurt him?”

  “I do not think so.” Gyllis rolled her eyes. “Then Duncan came charging out of the hall like a mad hornet and sent Alan on his way.” Her shoulders dropped. “And then he ordered me inside, the brute—spoilt all my fun.”

  Helen pulled her onto the pallet and sat facing her. “Goodness, it sounds as if you had enough excitement to last the duration of the games.”

  Emitting a long sigh, Gyllis grinned. “The best part?”

  “Aye?”

  “’Tis only the first day.”

  Chapter Four

  The next morning, Sean found a place behind the stables to stretch his aching limbs. Though he was accustomed to sleeping on hard ground, the floorboards in the great hall provided no comfort. At a gathering like this, rank mattered not. A single man spread his plaid in any available space, unless he was an earl.

  “There you are.” Gyllis strode toward him, smiling like sunshine. She held out a white kerchief. “Will you take this for luck?”

  He accepted the token and turned it over in his hands. Embroidered with bluebells, he couldn’t help but hold it to his nose. It smells like a mountain of heather. “My thanks.” He offered a sheepish smile. Duncan had given him a good earful last eve, and he’d been right. Sean never should have asked Gyllis to meet him in the courtyard—especially after dark, without an escort, and with so many clansmen about. Any number of people could have assumed the worst and tried to ruin her reputation. Bloody hell, Sean could have been forced to marry the lass on the spot.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.