by Madelyn Hill
Regardless, she feigned a smile and nodded when needed in conversation.
“Tisn’t like you to ignore a challenge.”
Hope looked at her sister Faith. “What?”
Faith’s eyes widened. She motioned to the men at the back of the main hall. “They’ve been challenging you to a game. Haven’t you heard them?”
She hadn’t, not that she’d admit so to her sister. “I’m too tired for games.”
Faith looked aghast at the suggestion that Hope would ever admit to being tired, especially too tired to participate in games. “Are ye ill?”
Hope chuckled. “Nay. Just busy with clan business.” She waved off Faith’s concern when MacKerry walked into the main hall and his gaze sought and held hers. Tendrils of heat ignited in her stomach and she braced herself as she took in the man before her.
She noticed he was clean-shaven and his hair was slicked back, but not tethered. As her gaze traveled further, she took in the crisp white shirt tucked into the familial tartan. His broad shoulders strained the seams of the shirt making him look manly and strong. The tartan stopped at his knees where it met the top of his black boots. They didn’t hide the strength of his limbs. His legs were thick with muscle and she admired that about him. His strength and fortitude.
As he paced forward, female eyes followed him. Hope banked any jealousy she felt, knowing it was foolish. But when a brazen serving lass approached him and gave him a tumbler of ale, Hope stood.
By Saint Elizabeth, the lass sauntered too close, cast a provocative glance along his form, and was too comely to suit Hope.
And didn’t Aidan MacKerry smile gratefully at the lass? As good as he pleased in front of the entire clan. It was as if he’d sent her an invitation with the way she nodded toward him and swished her hips as she strode away.
Men approached MacKerry. Slapped his back and laughed when MacKerry spoke. What she wouldn’t give to be part of the conversation.
After a few moments, he made his way toward her.
She crossed her arms before her chest.
“How are you, laird?”
She picked up her tumbler and took a healthy sip. She nodded to Connor and then Liam as they held up their tumblers in salute.
MacKerry leaned down close to her ear. His scent overpowered her with its woodsy flavor.
“I asked you a question,” he said softly, in a velvet whisper sounding both dangerous and sensual. “Do you think to ignore me all eve?”
The heat of his breath and closeness befuddled her and she almost slipped beneath the spell of his masculinity and handsomeness. Almost.
If it weren’t for the serving lass making her way toward the main table, Hope would have smiled and spoke to MacKerry. Instead, she pulled away and turned toward her sisters.
They were watching Hope with rapt attention. When Faith spoke to Honor in a lowered voice, Hope wished she could hear what they were saying.
“Is there any other needs ye have, Aidan?”
The purr of the wench’s voice scratched down Hope’s spine.
“Nay,” Aidan said curtly while keeping his gaze on Hope and pulling her closer. “Would you care to dance?”
She looked to the serving wench, then to MacKerry. Hope said, “Aye.”
MacKerry led her to the area just beyond the dais that was quickly filling up with people getting ready to dance the reel.
The music struck up as the pipes, drums, and flutes created a flurry of sounds which incited the group to engage in the lively dance.
Many more joined and spilled out into the bailey. Aidan steered them toward a quiet area well away from the dancers.
“I thought you wanted to dance.”
He chuckled, the husky melody warmed her. “I wanted to be alone with you.”
She cocked a brow and slipped out of his embrace. “And not the lass who served you ale?” She was being an eejit, she kenned. But the urge to do so was too hard to fight.
Again he chuckled. Did the man know how much the sound thrilled her? How it eased around her in a shawl of warmth and longing? And how she fought the attraction due to the uncertainty of—of just about everything? She rubbed the back of her neck. ’Twas too much to consider. The murdered lad. MacKerry’s past and present, to be honest. And the cryptic way Nora was speaking. ’Twas close to overwhelming and she didn’t trust herself with any of the decisions. Och, she felt like a wee lass, but she missed her mother’s guidance and love so much.
“She didn’t interest me, to be sure.” He traced his finger along her arm sending shivers down her spine. Aidan clasped her hand. He swung her hand up and kissed each knuckle, softly, slowly.
Och, what it did to her. It was as if it were nearly summer and the spring behind the keep turned from icy cold to hot bath of pleasure. “And what does interest you, Aidan?” she whispered.
He pushed her hair from her face, cradled her cheek with his hand. “Lovely lairds with bewitching green eyes and soft skin.”
She blushed and he grinned. “Have you always liked lairds?” she teased.
He chuckled. “Nay, ’twas a laird or two I’d rather liked to kill.”
He tensed and she searched his face as anger shifted over his features then fled as if she imagined his ire.
She reached forward and touched the skin peeking from the vee of his shirt. “Tell me, my husband to be, why would you wish to kill a laird.”
A grim line straightened his lips. “Not all are as fair as you, m’laird. Some treat young lads wretchedly. Locking them in small cupboards and forcing them to slave hour after hour.” His features darkened. “Ridicule them before the clan until others begin to treat him like a dog.”
Bitterness had taken over his light tone and she furrowed her brow over the story he told. “Surely a father or mother would protect their lad?”
With a quick shake of his head, he continued, “Nay, not if the mother was nowhere to be found and the father lay weak with fear and sorrow.”
“Och, Aidan. What a horrible time you’ve had of it.”
He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “Not to worry, m’laird. A lad will never face such consequence if I am near.”
She smiled at him tenderly. “Aye, I can see you are a protector.”
His brow lifted as if he were contemplated what she’d said. Hope had meant ever word. She’d had the love of both parents when she was a lass and after her father’s death, she’d still had the devotion of her mother. It broke her heart Aidan had been treated so horribly and if she’d kenned him when he was a lad, she’d surely champion him.
“I will protect you, Hope. As I pledge.”
His words filled her with warmth and the blossoming of affection which lay far past physical attraction.
Aidan pulled her closer. The hard expanse of him left her breathless as she marveled over how each part of her fit perfectly with him. Each breath he took raked his muscles against her, each beat of his heart matched her own.
His arousal pushed against her groin and her breath quickened at the thought of how the strength of the man was certainly impressive and not limited to his legs and arms.
He kissed her as she thrilled at being so close, so alive, and so wanted. Each nip, caress, and lick, sent flames racing through her blood. He delved and she opened to him, invited him to take advantage and leave nothing unplundered.
Heat radiated around her as he sent her senses soaring. She groaned as he grasped her buttocks, squeezed, then ground her to him. God, the sensations whipping through her body were near to overwhelming.
“Easy, lass.”
Hope pulled back and smiled. MacKerry matched her grin with a cocky one of his own. His eyes glowed in the early evening light as they tipped up in the corners. She reached for him again.
&n
bsp; He chuckled against her mouth, then continued to ravish her as if he would die if he didn’t do otherwise.
“M’laird! M’laird!”
“I’m going to kill him,” MacKerry growled as he released Hope.
“Aye, Dougray. What are you havering about?” Hope inhaled to steady her breath and nerves as she quickly smoothed her hair and straightened her blouse.
The young man had just started training and was a mite shy of MacKerry’s height. Hope had plans for him, mostly due to his size, but also due to the ability to be a quick study.
He tipped his head in MacKerry’s direction, then addressed Hope. “There’s a problem, laird. Liam’s ranting and raving in the main hall.”
Dougray waited for a reaction with his hands clasped behind his back and his sense of calm gave more credit to his demeanor. Yet the brightness in his eyes and the heaving of his breath gave away his excitement.
“We’ll be right there,” she answered and sent him away.
“Go, I need to right myself.”
Hope searched Aidan’s face. He looked as if he were in pain, but when she took a step toward him, he held up a hand. “Nay,” he said with a rasp. “One more touch may kill me.”
Comprehension dawned on her and she rooted her mind for some witty retort, but was left with nothing. Instead of exposing herself as innocent in the matters of men, Hope merely left Aidan and headed toward the main hall.
“Thank the Lord, ye are here, laird,” Nora said as she approached.
Hope looked pointedly at her maid and said, “Don’t wander off, I’d like a word with you.”
Apprehension shifted over her features and Hope nearly took pity on the woman, but she banked the emotions and reminded herself she was laird and she needed to know all in order to rule.
Liam paced before the dais, his unsure footsteps swaggered his aged body in an unpredictable manner.
“I’m the one ye should be listening to!” he yelled. “I should be ruling yer worthless hides. No’ a woman. A woman.” He spat on the thatch rugs.
Hope stood back feeling out of sorts that the man would insult her before the entire clan, but also feeling sorry for him as well. He’d tried for years to turn the tide against her and failed. The failure must fester like a burr beneath a saddle.
“Ye’ll learn . . . she’s a traitor,” he slurred.
“He’s drunk,” Aidan whispered. “I’ll take care of him.”
She held up a hand and waited for one of Liam’s cohorts to come forward and stop the man from spouting such nonsense. None came forward.
“I’ll take care of him.” She strode toward him as if it were any other day. “Liam, come with me and I’ll fix you a drought.”
“Poison me, more likely.”
This he said in a thick slur of words and softly, as if he only wanted Hope to hear.
“Nay. I’d never hurt you.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, momentarily surprised at the sharp edges of his bones. When had the man become so frail? And why hadn’t she noticed before?
“To me chambers for a chastisement!” He winked at some of the men he passed and they chortled at his comment.
Saints preserve us, she silently prayed. “Aye, Liam. To your room to sleep off the drink.” This she said loudly as she escorted Liam out of the main hall. Despite the bones she felt beneath his skin, the man weighed more than he looked and with the loose limbs of a drunkard, ’twas nearly impossible to maneuver.
“M’laird, allow me to help.”
Aidan gently elbowed her out of the way and heaved Liam up the stairs and into his room. Sparse, with only a bed and chest of drawers, Liam lived without color or accessories. That he saved for his meddlesome ways.
The moment Hope entered the room, Liam snapped to attention. “We’ve need of a discussion.”
Gone was the drunken demeanor. In its place was a stony façade Hope kenned meant trouble.
“What type of trickery is this, Liam?” She stood before him, close, and punched him with a pointed finger.
Aidan leaned against the closed door, his arms crossed before his chest. The line of his jaw flexed and his gaze penetrated Liam as if it were an arrow piercing the older man’s chest. “Aye, auld man. What trick is this?”
Liam held up his hands as if in defeat as he backed away from Hope and sat on the edge of his bed. “’Tis no trick. Just a need for privacy.” He wiped his face and rubbed the back of his neck. “You canna marry.”
Chapter 17
A chill filled the chamber as Aidan paced forward and picked up Liam by the scruff of his neck. “What say you?”
Aidan tried to calm the errant racing of his heart, but all he could envision was the collapse of his dream and destiny. All at the hands of a spiteful man bent on playing laird. The very man who’d sent for him and then played games with the lives of others.
“MacKerry.” Hope pulled at his arm. “Let him go.”
He complied, but didn’t retreat from the man.
“Donna fash yerself. The council has decided ye should wait. Wait until we feel ye suit and this isna a grand mistake.”
Aidan felt the hold of security start to slip through his fingers. He glanced at Hope and bore witness to her distress as well. Surely she’d been subject to the council and their opinions for too long. “The only mistake is not to marry. Now.”
“The people want this, Liam.” She pounded her chest. “Our people.”
Her voice cracked and he couldn’t tear his gaze from her. The emotions that coursed over her features pulled at his chest, and his heart. No matter how he tried to remain detached, she had begun to matter to him. And as he had spent time with her, learned about her from her own words and those of the clansmen, Aidan began to lose a bit of himself to her and both of their causes.
The woman, full of strength and dedication had him tied in knots. And he’d made a pledge, one he fully expected to honor.
“It doesn’t matter what the council has decided. The clan knows we are to marry. Hope and I have agreed.” He took a step toward Liam. “There will be no more discussion. Your acting, this farce you pulled before the clan, made you look the fool.”
“’Twas necessary,” Liam groused.
Hope scoffed. “You were trying to undermine me, admit it.”
The auld man had the grace to look a bit sheepish. “Would ye have spoken with me if I hadn’t acted as such?”
She laced her arms before her chest and glared at the man. “Doona act as if I’ve never heeded your advice, Liam. ’Tis all the council does is give me advice.” She tipped her chin at him. “And we spoke just a few hours ago.”
Liam grumbled, then shifted his gaze to Aidan. “Are ye certain, MacKerry? About our laird, here?” A chill ran up Aidan’s spine at the underlying warning in his tone.
Tension lay heavy in the room, sucking the air as Hope watched them both, her brow marred with worry. As her gaze flittered back and forth, he saw anger overtake the worry.
Just as he was going to speak, Hope said, “I’m still laird. With that, I’ll only say the plans aren’t going to change.”
Bravo, he said silently.
Liam sputtered, turned bright red, then waved them out of the room.
Aidan wasn’t certain if the entire situation wasn’t a rouse to remove them from the main hall and to somehow undermine any power Hope may have with the clan.
Liam’s actions were certainly suspect and Aidan proposed to ferret out what the man was up to.
As he and Hope left the room, he placed a hand on the small of her back as if to escort her. She threw back a look that read anger and frustration.
Without worrying about the consequences, Aidan pushed her against the stone wall. Leaned in and indulged himself in a kiss. Much like their embrace
in the bailey, Hope participated enthusiastically, perhaps her anger fueled the passion. She tangled her fingers in his hair, raked them down his neck.
He explored her body as if he were memorizing each and every detail. The slope of her neck, curve of her shoulder. He hesitated over the injury then trailed his hands down her sides and back up to her breasts.
Full, luscious, his for the taking. Aidan stroked her nipples with his thumb, circling and circling, eliciting a guttural moan, which could only be taken as desire.
He nipped along her neck, lapping along her smooth skin. She arched her back, pushing her body further into his.
God, she tasted like heaven.
Aidan wanted her. He wanted her now.
“Jaysus.”
Not again. Was the clan set on happening upon them whenever they were otherwise occupied?
Nora swatted at him, slapped him on the back of his head and then on his arse. “You’ll no be having your way with me lass.”
He chuckled as he looked at Nora. Her face was pierced with a scowl and she held her hand up as if to strike him again.
“She won’t be compromised,” he said as Hope scooted from behind him.
“Nora, ’tis none of your business.”
“Och,” she grunted. “Catriona bade me to look after you and I promised I’d do so.” She grabbed Hope’s arm and pulled him away from Aidan. “Come with me, lass. We’ve much to discuss.”
Aidan watched the women leave and head toward the laird’s chamber.
“I’m laird, Nora,” he heard Hope state with a hint of scorn mixed with aggravation. “I don’t need you protecting my virtue.”
“I’m praying you still have a virtue to protect. Yer mother will have me hide in the hereafter.”
He heard Hope chuckle and waited until the sound stopped echoing off the stone walls.
Life was certainly going to be interesting once they were married.
