“There will never be any peace between Gavin and I.” He set his wine down, straightened the chess board and righted one or two of the misaligned pieces. “Do you play the King’s Game?”
“My papa taught me how to play after returning with our chief from visiting the king at Stirling Castle. He made this very board for William and carved these chess pieces as well. He whittled them from wood Ethan and I collected in the woods.”
“I had no idea. I’ve always admired this set. ’Tis well crafted, with great attention to detail.” He picked up another piece and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger before gently setting it back down. “My foster sister, Kyla, loves naught more than besting me in this game. She says it requires a man or woman to consider multiple strategies when making a move, which is true, much as one must do when coming up against a fierce opponent on the battlefield. Do you care to play with me?”
“Playing with you could be dangerous.” Although unable to help herself, she shuffled forward in her seat. Making the first move, she selected a piece and slid it across the board and into position. Aye, naught more did she thrive on than coming up against a new opponent, and Duncan MacKenzie made one very fine one at that.
“Yet you’re a fae compeller, while I’m merely a warrior with the ability to wield a blade. It should be me who says playing with you could be dangerous.” He moved his chosen piece, the fire’s glow flickering across his high cheeks.
“Aye, with one word I could alter this game.”
“You would cheat against me?” Moving swiftly, he reached across, nabbed her woolen cap from her head and dropped it into her lap before easing back and eyeing her long locks as they swished down and swayed about her waist. “My apologies, but I needed to see more of you.”
“I’ll certainly cheat if you do that again.” He had the reflexes of a warrior, swift and precise and she’d best not forget it. She wound her hair back up and stuffed her cap overtop of it, tugged the wool down good and proper so he couldn’t so easily do that again. “So, would you truly have wed the MacDonald’s daughter to end this current feud?”
“Aye, do you no’ agree a marriage of alliance would have been worthwhile?”
“Such marriages arenae the way of my clan. We wait for our chosen one to claim us then join only with them.”
“I’m aware of how your people join together when mated.” He searched her gaze. “Are you wed, Ella, or do you still await your chosen one?”
“I wait, as patiently as I can.”
“What if he never comes?”
“He will.”
“You have such faith.” Gently, he laid his hand over top of hers and whispered, “Turn your hand over.”
For some reason she did, until their palms lay flush together and a new warmth enveloped her and rippled outward from her core.
With the softest caress, he stroked her palm with his thumb in one very slow, enticing circle, his gaze holding hers and not wavering one bit. “You, Ella, are the most intriguing lass I’ve ever met.”
* * * *
Ella’s decree that she awaited her chosen one continued to echo through Duncan’s mind, his need to touch her stirring him deep within. He’d asked her to turn her hand over and she had, and now he wanted even more, to eliminate the distance between them and extinguish this separation.
Aye, from the moment he’d walked into this antechamber, she’d stunned him, caught him in some silken web of desire until all he could focus on was her. Such sooty lashes framed her beautiful brown eyes with their intriguing flecks of gold. When he’d snatched her cap, her lush hair had unraveled in a mass of rich brown blended with streaks of shimmering gold. Hell, he could drown in her stunning gaze, wanted only to lose himself in it. “You’ve bewitched me, Ella Matheson.”
“I can assure you I’ve done naught of the kind.” She tugged her hand free of his and with slightly shaky fingers gripped her goblet and sipped her wine, even splashed some over the rim as she set it jerkily back down.
“Mayhap even more than bewitched.” A piper’s merry tune echoed in from under the door, the entertainment in the main room having begun. He stood, caught her hand again and pulled her to her feet. “Would you care for a birl?”
“We were playing a game.”
“And now I wish to dance.”
“I think no’.”
“There’s no need to fear my touch.”
“I fear naught.” She stepped toe to toe with him, pressed one hand against his chest and with a tilt to her head, swirled one finger down over his abs and along the waistband of his belted kilt. “See, no fear at all.”
“You play with fire, my grumpy one.” He wrapped one arm around her waist, pulled her closer and rocked from foot to foot. All he wished to do was feel her sliding sensuously against him, those black breeches of hers hugging every mouthwatering curve.
“This isnae a dance I’ve ever indulged in afore.”
“Neither have I. How often do you come to this tavern?”
“On the first of each month.”
“I’ve no wish to wait that long afore I see you again.” He dipped her backward, leaned over her and rubbed his cheek against her cheek. “You feel so good in my arms.”
“Oh goodness, what are you doing?” Her breath whooshed from her and she grasped ahold of his shoulders, her cap falling off and her luscious locks sweeping down to the floor.
The firelight flickered across her face in shimmering shades of red and gold and he became far more than bewitched.
“It might be best if you release me. Should my brother walk in and see us like this, I dinnae know what he will do. Likely attack you. He holds the battle skill and can be rather overprotective of me.”
“I bolted the door. Meet me somewhere, anywhere. I must see you again afore the first of the next month. Name the place and time and I will be there.”
“There can only ever be danger should we meet again. Let me go.” She looked deep into his eyes. “Release me.”
Her hypnotic demand clouded his thoughts and she said something else as he set her back on her feet. Something about listen well and pay attention. Her next words though rang with strong intensity, flooding his mind.
“From this moment forth, you’ll consider me naught more than an annoyance, and one you never wish to lay eyes upon again. Do you understand me, Duncan?”
“Aye, I understand.” His head spun, her powerfully spoken command one he couldn’t ignore.
“Repeat what I said.”
“You’re naught more than an annoyance to me, and one I never wish to lay eyes upon again.”
“That’s perfect.” With a soft smile, she lifted up on her toes and murmured in his ear, “Close your eyes and count to one-hundred, nice and slow. Once you’re done, you may open your eyes again and when you do, you’ll find me gone from this place and you’ll be most glad I’ve left.”
“Aye, one-hundred and I’ll be glad to see you gone.” Yet deep inside his heart, it screamed out a denial. Still, he closed his eyes and did as she’d bid. ’Twas impossible to deny her hypnotic request. “One, two, three…”
Slowly, her fingers slipped free of his and his heart heaved.
Pain slashed through him. Damn her ability to compel.
The door shut with a soft snick.
Chapter 2
Sailing along the Sound of Raasay, near MacKenzie land, two weeks later.
Sailing through the choppy waters, Duncan continued his search for the Chief of MacDonald’s nephew. Gavin and his band of men had been slaughtering his cattle for weeks, sneaking onto his land and causing sheer mayhem and now he’d had more than enough. He needed to catch up with the man and halt him in his tracks, and preferably by ensuring his death.
With the ropes in hand, he searched the shoreline as the blustery wind filled his galley’s sail. “All eyes alert,” he bellowed to his men. “We’re closing in on our prey. I can sense it.”
“Do you smell that, Duncan?” Hamish, his second, k
ept a lookout from the bow.
Nose to the air, he drew in the salty scent of the sea. It enveloped his senses, and there, a hint of smoke wafted on the breeze. “A fire rages.”
“We’re almost at Inverarish.” Hamish’s dark hair whipped about in the wind, the skies darkening as night drew nearer.
“Gavin knows the village of Inverarish falls under my protection.” He wrestled with the ropes, turned the sail a touch and caught more wind as the sun dipped along the horizon and sent a final streak of brilliant red through the haze of dark blue. “We sail to the village, with all haste.”
They rounded the tip, the waves churning and the scent of the smoke thickening. Along the stony shoreline of the bay, flames licked a fiery orange-red across the thatched-roof of a longhouse. Smoke billowed from doors and windows and embers whistled through the wind and snatched ahold of the next rooftop. Villagers swarmed from the houses with wooden pails in hand and herded down toward the water’s edge. In a living line of men, women, and children, they dipped pails into the surf and swung them from one hand to the next.
“All to oars,” he bellowed and dropped the sail. Another house caught alight and more ashy smoke plumed into the night sky and smothered the bay. To the bow, he bounded and as they crested the waves twenty feet from the shoreline, he leapt over the side and splashed through the hip-deep water toward the villagers. Shoving forward, he slogged in then jogged to the head of the line where James, the stocky inn owner, yelled orders.
“You’ve good timing, my laird.” James jabbed a finger toward the forest rising high along the upper rim of the bay overlooking the village. “Gavin MacDonald and his band of men snuck in from the forest and attacked, have filched several horses from our stables and now fled the same way they came. The lass made chase.”
“Which lass?” The winds fanned the flames. He hollered to his men as they spilled from the vessel onto the shore, “The fires must be put out! Aid wherever you can.”
“The lass Ella Matheson. Her brother, Ethan, was with Gavin and his men and she’s been searching for Ethan and arrived here naught more than an hour ago.” James heaved a pail forward along the line. “She said Ethan has successfully infiltrated Gavin’s band of men and attempts to halt Gavin’s devious behavior from within it.”
“She’s a compeller and her clan is allied with the MacDonald’s.” She was also a terrible annoyance, a lass he never wished to see again, and that thought rang like a death knell through his head, had since that night they’d met at William’s tavern.
“Ella took a chest illness a sennight ago, isnae fully recovered yet. Her voice is raspy, her ability to compel coming and going.” James aided a woman carrying a bairn—her face blackened by the grimy smoke—into the spot behind him then lifted the cubby-faced child from her shoulders and hefted the wee lad onto his own. “Ethan is much like his father, Ella too,” James continued. “All here remember Hacon Matheson and how he fought for the rights of all, no matter which clan they belonged to. Ella and Ethan do all they can to honor their father’s memory. Peace is what they desire, no’ war.”
“James is right. Ella and Ethan always fight to make things right.” Hamish gripped his shoulder, his gaze firm on his. “A vision just assailed me and I’ve seen you should go and aid her. I’ll take care of one and all here.”
The last thing he wanted to do was leave these villagers when every hand was needed to douse the fires, yet Hamish had never set him on the wrong path before and if he said he needed to go, then he would go. “This village is under my care. Gavin’s hit here is a direct strike against me and ’tis unacceptable.” He wouldn’t tolerate such treacherous attacks. “Hamish, ensure no lives are lost this night. I’ll return as soon as I can.”
“I shall, and watch out for the low branch as you ride.” Hamish heaved a pail forward. “Go easy on the lass too. You’ve expressed a sudden dislike of her these past few weeks, and that worries me.”
“She frustrates me, more than any other lass ever has.” Although, no more could he delay if he wished to catch up to her. He sprinted up the beach and raced across the grassy verge, bounded over the top beam of the corral and snagged a horse, the animal thankfully already saddled. “Open the gate,” he hollered to the lanky stable hand.
“If ye are after Mistress Ella, she took the entrance to the forest at the top of the hill, followed in the tracks of the MacDonalds and her brother.” In loose breeches and a dirt-smeared tunic, the lad swung the gate wide and pointed to the place he spoke of.
“You have my thanks.” Knees shoved into the horse’s flanks, he burst out of the stables and rode along the winding upward trail that rimmed the village. As the skies darkened further, he plunged into the depths of the forest and followed the tracks heading to the east.
* * * *
In the near dark, Ella bolted along the forest trail, her horse snorting frosty air and the wind plastering her tunic to her chest and breeches to her legs. Fallen leaves and pine needles twirled as she urged her horse to a faster pace and hurtled on. She had to catch up to Ethan, to do all she could to aid him in halting Gavin in his tracks. She also intended on blasting her brother for leaving her behind at their village on the mainland, no matter that she’d been ill. Thankfully, he’d successfully infiltrated Gavin’s band of men. At least that she could be grateful for. Ensuring peace was now within their grasp.
The wind rushed all around, swept her woolen cap from her head and sent it smacking into the wide trunk of an oak tree behind her. Blast it. That was her favorite cap. No time to retrieve that. Head down, she hugged her steed tighter as she followed the scored tracks in the trail sprinkled with moonlight penetrating through the thick canopy overhead.
Up ahead, the pounding of horses’ hooves ricocheted toward her. She was close, and gaining on them. When she caught up with Gavin she intended on halting his madness once and for all. No more stealing and slaughtering cattle, no more setting fires and burning down the homes of innocent villagers, and certainly no more vindictive attacks against Duncan MacKenzie. If he wanted to raise the stakes in the battle between their clans, he was doing a very prime job of it.
“Ella!”
She swung a look over her shoulder. Drat. ’Twas Duncan himself. In battle leathers and his claymore bobbing in a baldric across his back, his blue eyes blazed as he charged in beside her. “What are you doing here?” Her raspy voice barely made a noise.
“James said your voice comes and goes and he’s clearly right. I’ll hunt down Gavin and his men, bring your brother back as well. Head back to the village. There’s no need for you to be out in the cold this night, not when you’re still recovering from whatever illness you’ve had.”
“You dinnae command me.” Ethan was her brother. She’d be the one to find him.
“I said head back.” He rushed ahead and dust swirled in her face. “Return, now,” he bellowed over his shoulder.
“’Tis you who should head back.” Not that he would have caught her whispered comeback. Aye, never would she abandon her brother when he needed her so greatly. She snapped her horse’s reins and picked up her pace, rode up alongside Duncan and shot him a fierce look, wished only her voice could be just as fierce too. “Be gone with you.”
“You cannae think to deal with these men without your ability to compel, which you clearly are amiss of since your command has no’ made any difference to me.” Determination and anger slashed his face. “Your commands will do naught to Gavin as well.”
“I’ll find a way around the loss of my—” A low branch loomed and she ducked, tried to warn Duncan only—
Thunk. Crash.
His horse, rider-less, sped past and she jerked on her reins.
Behind her, he lay sprawled on the ground and heartbeat pounding, she catapulted off her horse and skidded in beside him. Clutching his leather jerkin, she shook him. “Duncan?”
His breath whooshed out then rasped back in, his eyelashes sluggishly lifting. Groaning, he rubbed the back of h
is head and muttered, “So that’s what Hamish meant by ‘watch out for the low branch.’”
“Are you all right?” She cupped his face in her hands, searched his gaze.
“I’m fine, Ella.” He pushed her hands away, heaved up, slapped his sides and eyed the trail up ahead.
“You were no’ breathing.” She stepped in front of him, pressed one hand to his chest, the solid beat making her own steady a little more. “From this moment forth, you will always look where you’re riding.” Whispered words, and not nearly strong enough to ensure she’d compelled her request of him. “Please, will you do as I say?”
“I always watch the trail when riding, unless I’m arguing with a lass who’s determined to do herself harm.”
“I have done no harm to myself, while you clearly have, and this isnae the time for a fight.” Her horse munched on the long grass growing on one side of the trail, while his steed had ridden off to goodness knows where. “I cannae hear them. Can you?”
The wind whistled through the trees and an owl hooted in the dark. The leaves of the trees rustled and Duncan’s breath heaved in and out.
“Nay, but I’ll catch them up all the same.” He stormed toward her horse, grasped the dangling reins and mounted. Hand thrust out, he gritted his teeth. “I cannae leave you here. Come. We’ll ride together since you’ve now left me with no other choice.”
“I’ve left you with no choice?” Outraged, she slapped his hand away, hoisted herself up onto her mount in front of him, snagged the reins from his hands and slammed her heels into her animal’s flanks. “Your horse deserted you. Hold tight. If you fall again, then this time I’ll no’ return for you.”
“I much prefer this whisper of yours to your usual aggravating tone. Have I mentioned that?” With one arm wrapped around her waist, he nipped her ear. Actually nipped her ear. Naught more infuriated her.
Highlander's Caress: Medieval Romance (The Fae Book 2) Page 3
