Claiming His Highland Bride

by TERRI BRISBIN

  ‘Take him.’

  Alan did not know who called the order, but he found himself grabbed by many hands and dragged down the corridor. He would face the consequences of this act, but he would never regret ending the man’s life and his reign of terror. Never.

  And, even if Sorcha could never be his, she would not be Gilbert’s either. She was safe, Brodie would see to that and no one would naysay The Mackintosh in that. Alan did not fight back and found himself not harmed as they locked him in a small chamber along the hallway there.

  * * *

  Some time passed with many people rushing along the corridor past the chamber. He heard bits and pieces, names whispered and yelled, as the commotion raged there. Well, he had killed their chieftain, so he expected that there would be confusion and questions about who would lead them. He was not certain if his actions would speak to his father’s fate. Or the man he would always call father.

  Alan was standing by the door when it opened. Of all those who it could have been, she was not the one he expected.

  ‘Alan,’ his mother cried as she rushed to him. ‘Are you injured?’ She began rubbing her hands over him, seeking any wounds.

  ‘Nay, I am well, Mother.’

  The enormity of the things they needed to speak about was crushing and they stood looking at each other for some long moments.

  ‘Mother...’

  ‘Alan...’

  He took her in his arms and held her, wishing he kenned the words that would ease the terrible shame and choices she’d faced for him. And now, everyone had heard the tale.

  No matter that she had been faithfully married to Robert Cameron and bore him two other legitimate sons. No matter that she had raised the child born of violence and horror with love and caring. No matter that she had suffered such a thing and had to face the scorn of those closest to her. Alan worried that none of those qualities and manners be remembered now and only. Gilbert’s shocking words would be.

  ‘Thank you,’ he finally whispered. ‘I just wish that you did not have to suffer such a thing.

  ‘Robbie gave me the hope I needed,’ she said, wiping her eyes as she leaned her head against his chest. ‘His love never let me lose heart. He taught me how to love.’

  ‘You must have hated me.’ Surely, a woman who’d suffered such an attack and then borne a child from it would have harsh feelings for the result of her shame. And yet... He’d never had a clue of his origins from either her or his father.

  ‘You were mine, Alan. Always first in my heart. And he claimed you before everyone as his. Neither of us ever felt anything but love for you.’

  ‘I would speak to him, to Father, before...’

  He did not ken what he faced, but he hoped he would have a chance to make his peace with the man who’d raised him. So much made sense now and he had questions that no one else could answer. But the sound of a number of people approaching the chamber made Alan wonder if his fate was now at hand.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Hours passed and still the questions came. She answered each one as carefully, completely and truthfully as she could. Some of the elders did not want to believe her words. Others nodded at her revelations and knowledge. Brodie remained at her side, watching over the interrogation and asking his own questions when she missed some bit that she’d told him already.

  Her back hurt and her head throbbed by the fourth hour. Her voice grew hoarse from talking so much, but if that was what Alan needed to defend his actions and prove The Cameron committed treasonous acts against his clan, she would continue.

  ‘The lady has agreed to remain here to provide you with what you need, but she is exhausted and needs food and time to rest,’ Brodie announced then. ‘She has travelled many miles for some days to bring her evidence before you.’

  ‘There is a chamber for her,’ Colum offered. The man nodded at one of the servants who scurried off to prepare it. ‘And the food and drink will be waiting for her there.’

  ‘I would like the chamber next to hers,’ Brodie said. ‘I have sworn to safeguard her and will not leave her alone until this is done.’ She thought him done, and thorough at that, but he had one more condition. ‘A serving woman of my choosing will see to her care.’

  He’d just accused the Camerons of any number of deficiencies in their hospitality and their manners and insulted them, yet they simply nodded in acceptance.

  ‘Lord Mackintosh?’ A tall, young man stepped closer to Brodie then. ‘I am Davidh, Malcolm’s friend and Ailean’s brother.’

  ‘Davidh,’ Brodie said, nodding at the man.

  ‘Ailean is here if you would like her to see to the lady.’

  Sorcha had heard Eva and Arabella mention the lady’s cousin Ailean who had served as her companion for many years before returning to Achnacarry recently to care for her ailing mother.

  ‘Aye, Davidh. That would be fine.’ The chieftain nodded.

  Within a short time, Sorcha found herself in a comfortable chamber with a very nice companion who had much to discuss with her about Arabella and everyone at Drumlui Keep and in the village. But, tired and in need of rest, she bid the woman a good night and sought the comforts of the rope-strung bed with thick and warm covers.

  She’d just fallen asleep when the door opened slightly, throwing the light from the corridor across the chamber. Sitting up, she pushed her hair out of her face and stared at the man standing there.

  ‘Alan?’ she whispered, fearing that she was awake and dreaming.

  ‘Aye, ’tis me, Sorcha.’ He closed the door quietly and crossed the chamber to her. He leaned against the bed and just looked at her.

  He did not look injured in any way. As she’d watched the fight, she thought he’d been punched several times and once she swore that Gilbert’s sword sliced through his shirt, drawing blood. But now, he seemed hale and whole as he stared at her.

  ‘How? Why?’ He sat on the bed next to her, just watching her.

  ‘How? Brodie, of course. I wonder when the Camerons will realise he is manipulating them the way his bairns play with their toy horses and dolls.’ She reached out and touched his hand. ‘Why? I could not allow the man I love to die for my honour.’

  There was worry in his gaze as he pulled free of her caress and walked away. In silence, Alan stood before the hearth with his hands held out to its warmth. She slipped from under the covers and walked to him, sliding her hands around him and leaning against his strong back. She’d never thought to see him again, let alone be able to touch him. The tension in him was something she could feel beneath the tips of her fingers as they lay on his chest.

  ‘What is it, Alan? Tell me.’

  ‘You heard it all.’

  ‘Heard what?’ Then she realised the issue. ‘About your parents?’

  ‘All of that. The way my life began.’

  She moved to his side and touched the side of his face. When he gazed down at her, she saw the shame there.

  ‘You had no choice in it, Alan.’ She stroked his cheek. ‘Your mother is a strong woman to have survived her ordeal and she loves you.’

  He smiled then and touched her face.

  ‘She said the same thing about you,’ he admitted. ‘That you are strong and that you love me.’

  ‘I am not certain about the strong part, but, aye, I do love you.’

  He picked her up in his arms then and carried her to the bed. Standing there, he waited.

  ‘What about Brodie?’ she asked, knowing the chieftain was sleeping in the next chamber.

  ‘He is in the hall, holding up his reputation against all comers.’ She frowned, trying to think of what kind of reputation. ‘Chess. He loves a good challenge in the game.’

  ‘So his request for the next chamber was...?’

  ‘Simply a ruse to give us
some measure of privacy as we discuss our plans.’

  ‘Our plans? I spoke to Brodie and he said...’

  She gasped as he dropped her back on the bed. Turning to face him, she slid up to the pillows. This bed was a luxury considering what she’d slept on over these past weeks and months. From the look in his eyes now, she understood that his plans included more than she’d hoped for. When he tugged his plaid loose and dropped it to the floor, her body responded to what she knew would follow. His shirt and breeches and boots followed and then he climbed up next to her.

  Sorcha kenned she should object. That now that her identity was revealed she had no choice in what came next. That she could not make a commitment until she sorted it all out, with Brodie’s help and his protection, if needed.

  Alan sat without saying a word, as though not completely aroused and ready to join with her. As though she had not noticed this amazing, naked man at her side. As though she would refuse him. But she could play along with whatever ruse this was and make her decisions in the light of day. The next day...or the next one.

  ‘So, tell me of your plans,’ she said.

  Before he could speak a word, she reached out and touched him. His flesh was hot and hard and the ache deep inside her began immediately. She was too new at this to pretend to be unaffected by his nearness, by the feel of his flesh under her touch. In her hand.

  ‘Brodie suggests that we make our plans quickly.’ He spoke as though in pain, but she kenned he liked the way she caressed his length. ‘I told him by morning we would be ready.’

  ‘Ready? By morning?’ She tried to jest, but could not help laughing. She gave up the pretence. ‘Alan, I am ready now.’

  He laughed then as he pulled her on top of him and guided her to sit across his legs. She gathered the bedgown up so she could straddle him and moaned as he rubbed along her cleft.

  ‘Aye, love. You are ready,’ he said. He pulled her face to his and kissed her, mimicking with his tongue what he would soon do with his flesh. Then, holding her face in his hands, he spoke. ‘We have two choices.’

  How could he keep speaking rationally? How could she concentrate on his words when one of his hands slipped between her legs, searching for...something. She tossed her head back when he found it, that place where her ache was the strongest, and she rode his hand as he made it worse...or better.

  ‘Two choices?’ she asked, her voice deep with arousal as she thought of the myriad of things they’d done before. ‘I remember six or seven choices.’ Proud of her ability to speak at all as he did those things to her, she lifted her hips and rocked against him, wanting him inside of her.

  Now.

  ‘No more talk,’ she said, taking his mouth and taking his breath with a searing kiss then.

  Alan lifted her up and guided her body down on his shaft. Her breathing stopped as he filled her, inch by inch, until she had him completely within her. In this position, he was deeper than he’d been and she shifted to feel all of him there.

  ‘He will see you to the convent and you can take your vows.’

  Her head spun and all thoughts escaped as he moved beneath her, sliding her down until she was sitting on him, riding his body as she would ride a horse. She ignored everything until she found the rhythm that felt the best. Alan moaned as she slid up along his length and back down. With her knees down and his hands under her, she could move faster and faster and feel every inch of his hot, hard flesh between her legs.

  He reached up and gathered the length of her curls together, tossing them over her shoulders so that they pooled on his legs behind her. Another moan told her that he liked the feel of her hair on his skin. Then, he slid his hands up to cup her breasts, teasing the tips with his thumbs until she could feel her body growing tight from within.

  ‘Or you can marry me and we leave in the morning for Mackintosh lands.’

  The words swirled around her in the echoing sounds of passion and made no sense to her. She was far into seeking her release and the pleasure she kenned that waited for her. When he slipped one hand into the folds of flesh between her legs and stroked her there, she felt everything begin to shudder and tremble. From deep inside to her skin, she tightened and then fell apart, moaning as she felt his seed spray against her womb.

  Sorcha fell then and he caught her, easing her down on top of him so they lay chest to chest, his flesh still filling her. When she could breathe again, she lifted up and met his gaze. ‘I had no idea it could be done that way.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said against her hair. ‘I can think of many more ways it can be done.’ He stroked her back then, holding her close. He whispered several things to her she had never considered either before sighing. ‘If only you were not intent on that convent.’

  She looked at him and let the laughter flow then. He was purposely misunderstanding her words in an attempt to tempt her into marriage with him. He continued to make suggestions, all of them carnal in nature and each one piqued her curiosity. Could a man and woman truly join in those positions and find pleasure?

  He rolled then and now looked down on her. His flesh grew harder within her and he moved just enough to glide further within before he kissed her. Was this his attempt to tempt her even more? This time, though, it was his words that convinced her rather than his actions.

  ‘You should ken that I will find you, Sorcha. Wherever you go. I will find you and bring you back to me.’ He took hold of her hand and lifted it to his lips. ‘I love you. Hell, I even like you and so does my mother,’ he admitted. ‘She said you’d be perfect to keep me from all my bad habits.’ Then his eyes turned into that stormy mix and he kissed her hand again.

  ‘In all seriousness, love, will you marry me? I promise to let you read your books and help Arabella with her tasks. You can be learned or sew all your days. I will be more lenient with you and a better man than Micheil MacNeill ever was.’

  It was nigh impossible to concentrate on this vital conversation when he was so deep within her body. When he covered her with his weight and strength and heat. But he clearly would not relent or finish until they did speak of it.

  ‘What of my father when he learns I am alive?’ She ignored his jest about her non-existent husband and worried over the real danger to their happiness. Her father was her biggest concern. Her father still controlled her life.

  ‘I think that is Brodie’s reason for suggesting we choose quickly. If you are legally wed by the time he learns of your survival and arrives to find you in Brodie’s protection, I think his demand for your return would fall on deaf ears. Brodie is high in the favour of both the king and the Church.’

  ‘He really does manipulate people, does he not?’

  ‘He learned quickly that finding and using a person’s weaknesses and strengths was the way to survive. Brodie is a master.’ She’d watched him during the questioning and agreed. ‘Not to lean too heavily on his methods, but my parents did truly ask if we would marry here before we leave for Glenlui.’ He moved just enough then to take her breath away and to remind her what would happen when the words stopped.

  ‘Are you certain of this, Alan? Do you truly wish us to marry? I ken you have many questions yet to seek answers to about your parents and your life.’

  ‘Aye, my love. I have never wanted something or someone so much as I do you. No matter what else I seek in my life, I want you at my side.’ He paused and stared into her eyes. ‘In my heart. In my life.’

  ‘Aye.’

  They did not speak words for the rest of the night. Within minutes they confirmed their choice and then allowed caresses, kisses and their bodies to speak of their love. By morning, she realised what she had already learned—that she had found what she’d always wanted in her life in Alan. A strong man who would protect her and love her and find her when she was lost.

  * * *

  Alan helped her dress
and then led her down to the great hall where his parents were waiting. Brodie had negotiated with the elders over his fate while he had been in her bed and Alan was pleased with the arrangements his long-time friend had made for him.

  With Sorcha’s knowledge of details and bargains made, Gilbert’s supporters seemed to fade away, some even disappearing from the castle while confusion reigned after the fight. Now, those who stood to lose the most from Gilbert’s treachery were safe, thanks to Alan and Sorcha. Any talk of charges against Alan quickly turned into accolades.

  Robert Cameron took his place as chieftain of the clan with his son Robbie named tanist. Alan did not begrudge his father or brothers this and understood now why his father had not done it at Euan’s death. For him. For him and his mother. Now, Robert would lead the clan and the peace would be in place for years to come.

  Within an hour, they’d spoken their vows before his family. After breaking their fast, Alan and Sorcha left Achnacarry with promises to return once Robert was settled in the chieftain’s seat and the elders who supported the new chieftain were in place on the council. Rob and Magnus accompanied them back to Brodie’s lands and his wife. Someone had to tell her the news that she’d missed their wedding and Brodie did not wish to be that person.

  And over the months and years, Alan would often think on how he’d found the woman he loved by accident and in spite of the fact she did not wish to be found. Sometimes, his skills as a tracker left him unable to see that which was right in front of him all the time.

  Epilogue

  ‘The midwife said you should remain abed,’ Sorcha warned as she entered Arabella’s chamber and found her standing at the window.

  ‘I will scream if I have to lie abed any longer, Sorcha.’ But Sorcha noticed that the lady did sit in the chair there instead of standing.

  ‘Here, place your legs on this,’ she said, tugging the cushioned stool from the corner and helping Arabella get more comfortable.

  ‘I ken that you are handling me,’ the lady said. ‘You have been watching my husband too much.’