"Bah!" Moira giggled. "You'd slay a man of an agreeable nature. What you need, dear sister, is a strong hand."
Claire frowned but then relented and chuckled. "True. I would not like a simpering man. You are correct, Mo, a strong man who stands up to me, but is yet gentle with his ways."
"Darling sister, if such a man existed, then he'd come to you in a fairy mist," Moira scolded, shaking her head. "Now enough of this nonsense, sister, I came to help you pack."
"Very well, I will pack, but I warn you the only reason I do so is because I plan to run away," Claire said watching Moira opening a large empty trunk. She did not move to help. Instead she looked toward the window wishing for said fairy dust to appear.
"No, you will not, Claire. You would never disappoint Da in such a cruel manner."
Of course Moira was right. Exasperation filled her, and Claire wondered at a way to convince Ian McDougall to release her from the betrothal.
Surely he disliked her as much as she did him. The last time they'd met, it had been less than amicable.
There was hope still.
Chapter Two
Lachlan was less than patient while waiting admittance to the McLean keep. He and the three men who accompanied him were quite weary from the days of travel to the McLean keep.
Finally the thick wooden gates inched open allowing them to enter the sizeable courtyard. The laird hurried out from inside, the stout man's face ruddy from the exertion.
With a slight bow, Lachlan greeted the McLean. "Laird, I am Lachlan McDougall, here in my brother's stead to be proxy to the handfast with Lady Claire and escort her back to McDougall lands."
The laird's sharp eyes snapped over him and then each of his men. "Aye, of course, come...come inside and seek refreshment."
They followed the man, who moved with surprising speed, into a large room where they settled at a long polished wooden table. The room was quite large, as the clan was much larger than the McDougalls. On every wall tapestries decorated and brought warmth. On opposite walls, immense hearths boasted fires that added additional heat. Lachlan spotted at least ten maids moving between long rows of tables serving the men and woman seated. They interrupted the evening meal it seemed.
McLean lifted his hands clapping above his head and several maids came forward to see to their needs.
The smell of the freshly baked breads made Lachlan's mouth water. Trays piled high with meats and root vegetables were brought into the room and placed before them. Steaming bowls of a hearty stew followed the laden trays. His stomach grumbled in delight.
"Eat, fill your bellies," the McLean told them picking up a large slab of meat and placing it onto his plate. "Your Da? How fares he?" he asked Lachlan, a concerned expression on his face.
He hoped to return and find his father still alive. "Father is not well. He worsened just as my brother was to come."
"Ah." The man shook his head. "He is a good man, your Da."
Not wishing to think too much about his father, Lachlan looked to the doorway where a comely serving wench watched him with interest. Perhaps after filling his stomach and bathing, he'd seek her out.
"Me daughter is packing, I am not sure she will join us for the meal tonight," the laird informed him. "She will be a good wife to Ian, I'm sure. Although Claire is a bit of an energetic lass, I'm afraid."
The picture of the fiery sprite kicking Ian and running away came to mind and Lachlan pressed his lips together to keep from commenting. His brother would have his hands full with that one. Although a beauty, Claire McLean would be hard to tame, she was not meant to be a laird's wife. But it wasn't his decision, so Lachlan refrained from bringing that fact up and continued eating.
His duty was to fetch the lass and bring her back to McDougall keep. Whether or not he thought it a good or bad idea did not matter. For now he was content to be warm and well fed.
The light of a full moon was enough for Lachlan to make his way to the stables later that night. His legs were heavy from exhaustion and the hearty meal did not help him move with much ease. Once he checked on his horse, a warm bed would be most welcome. Tonight he'd not seek a wench after all, it was rest he needed more.
The smell of hey and horses joined with the sounds of the nickering horses as Lachlan walked past the stalls to find his steed. As if sensing his presence the horse nickered and poked his head out to look toward him.
Just then movement caught his eye. He looked to the shadows past the last stall and didn't see anything. Whatever it was hid.
Lachlan went to his horse, ran his hand over the soft fur and fed him a root vegetable he'd gotten from the kitchens. "There now, you get some rest, we'll be back on the road soon enough."
While he tended to his steed, Lachlan kept an eye on the back corner. If it was a wee beast looking for warmth, he'd leave it be. But if it was something that could harm the horses, it was best if he ran it off.
Once again the shadow moved. It was too large of an animal to leave alone with the horses.
With a pitchfork in hand he rounded the corner to see a huddled figure grasping at a cloak in an attempt to hide in the darkness. It would have worked if not for several strands of bright red hair peeking from one side.
"Claire?"
"No!" The figure replied but did not move.
"What are you doing?"
"Go away," she replied and a hand stuck out from the folds of the cloak to wave him away.
"I will not leave until you speak to me."
The lass sprung to her feet and faced him, eyes narrowed. Lachlan stepped back to ensure his shins were protected from a possible kick. He'd seen how hard she'd struck his brother. Ian had limped for a couple days after.
Wild green eyes looked him from head to foot and back up again. Then she slapped a hand over her mouth. Claire stumbled forward still studying him and once again he stepped back. Was the lass mad?
"Are you real?" Claire asked and reached out to poke him in the chest. "Did you come for me?"
"Aye and aye."
"Your hair, ‘tis like spun gold." Hand planted on the middle of his chest, she stood on her toes and peered into his eyes next. "And your eyes, they are dark as the night sky."
Gods, his brother was to be married to an addled woman who made no sense. "What do you speak of, Claire?"
"Did you come for me?" she repeated and a wide smile curved her lips. He could not help but respond to the beauty and grinned in return.
"Aye, we leave on the morrow."
She grabbed his tunic and pulled him forward, her face mere inches from his. "Nay, we cannot wait, they will take me before then. We must leave now."
"I am quite weary. I'm afraid we wouldn't make it very far." Lachlan had to admit he enjoyed the proximity and moved closer, his lips almost touching hers. "I will escort you back inside."
"What is your name?" Claire asked, her breath fanning over his face.
"Lachlan."
"You have come to rescue me, Lachlan." Their lips touched and Lachlan's eyes flew wide. His hands on her shoulders, he attempted to push her away, but she moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck.
His brother's betrothed attempted to pull him into her world of madness. Lachlan broke the kiss and held her away from him. Claire remained with her eyes closed, lips pursed, a flushed coloring about her face. A more fetching picture he could not think of.
"Claire, please open your eyes. We must go inside, come along, you need rest. Tomorrow we leave for McDougall lands."
Her scream startled him so, that he too hollered as well and spun around looking for whatever scared her only to realize she shrieked at him. "You are a McDougall?" She turned and spit at the ground. "But all of you devils are dark in hair color and have blue eyes." She squinted in the darkness at him. "I don't recognize you."
"I was here with my brother before. You may not have noticed me in your haste to attack my brother and flee."
She did not respond, but continued to narrow her eyes. "Who are you r
eally? Are you sure to not be a Fae then?"
Becoming weary of her game, he took her arm and guided her toward the keep. "I am Lachlan McDougall, Ian's younger brother. I resemble our mother who is fair haired."
"Aye, I remember her. She is a nice woman." She paused. "Who has birthed two devils." She turned on her heel and attempted to leave, but he held her by the arm. "Let me go. I am going to run away. No one can force me into this marriage."
Prepared for her kick, he avoided the swift strike when it came. Patience lost, he picked up the thrashing woman and threw her over his shoulder. "I'm too weary to play laird's spoiled daughter with you this night."
Chapter Three
"What are you are doing?" Claire hissed at the dark-eyed devil who propped his head on folded arms and lay on the floor in front of her door staring at the ceiling.
The shadows of weariness under his eyes did little to detract from his good looks. Her stomach tumbled when his eyes met hers and she cursed at her foolish actions earlier.
His deep sigh made her want to kick him. "I attempt to go to sleep. Would you please do the same?"
That voice... deep but smooth as the waters at the nearby loch. Claire sniffed and turned away. "Fine, sleep there if you wish. I may not run away tonight, but trust me sooner or later, I will." She sat on her bed and wondered at the tingle of guilt that because of her actions, the man was forced to sleep on the cold, hard floor. "I can summon a maid to remain here. You may go to your chambers."
"Go. To. Sleep."
Two days later, Claire adjusted her sore bottom on the horse. Why had she asked to ride astride? They'd been on the road for less than a day and already the bruising of her backside brought her close to tears. Her plan to escape at the first opportunity may well be waylaid by her own arse.
From the corner of her eye she stole a glance at Lachlan, who rode beside her. He'd had one of his men posted outside her door after sleeping on the floor the first night. Today in spite of traveling, the man looked well rested and refreshed.
Prepared to spar with him again the last morning at home, she'd been disappointed to wake to find him gone, and another of the McDougalls outside her door.
She'd not seen him for an entire day as she and Moira had spent the time packing and preparing for her travel. That morning he appeared at breakfast with damp freshly washed hair. Now his light hair shined like spun gold in the sunlight. She examined his profile again. Elegant straight nose and well-formed lips, that immediately brought back thoughts of their kiss. To avoid the thought any longer, she moved on to his strong jawline. If ever there were a handsome devil, it was Lachlan McDougall.
"We will stop in a few hours to set up camp. Are ye well, Lady Claire?" He did not turn to her while he spoke, instead kept his gaze forward.
Biting her lip to keep from begging to stop now, she nodded. "Quite well."
Brows lifted, he looked over and smiled. "Would you like to take the horses for a trot?"
"Of course not," she snapped. Had he noticed her discomfort? "If I trot, it will be not with you, but away from."
Several hours later, the tightness of her muscles and bottom reached unbearable and Claire attempted to muffle a whimper when her horse bounced her.
Lachlan finally called everyone to a stop and turned off the path toward a clearing. "We will camp here for the night." He moved closer to the men and they began discussing guard duties.
Claire attempted to lift her leg to dismount, but found herself too numb to move. She turned to the wagon and caught sight of her maid's head poking out. She waved the girl over. "Maggie, help me down, I fear I may never be able to walk again."
The short girl rushed over and shoved at her leg, "I cannot reach higher, Lady Claire," Maggie told her jumping and pushing at her now throbbing leg.
"I'll have to push myself off," I suppose. She lay forward on the horse and attempted to push off, but instead ended up with both legs up behind her, lying on her stomach on the horses back in a most unladylike position.
Strong hands wrapped around her waist and lowered her to the ground where she collapsed in a heap. Lachlan then took her under the arms and attempted to stand her. Her legs crumpled once again.
"Blast it, woman, why didn't you say anything?" He lifted her and carried her to sit on soft grass. "Ye'll be sore for days."
A tear escaped at the painful tingling traveling up her legs and bottom. He squatted in front of her and brushed it away. "Don't cry, Claire. It may help if you dip your bottom half in the cool stream water." The warrior actually seemed worried about her state. "You should have said something."
She sniffed and wiped at her face with the edge of her sleeve. "Will you help me get to the water's edge, please?"
"Aye," he motioned for the maid. "Bring a change of clothing for your mistress." Maggie scurried off to the wagon and once again Lachlan picked her up.
It was shocking how easily he carried her. With a firm expression and eyes straight ahead, he stalked to the nearby creek. If it were not for the pain, she would admit to liking the experience of being held by a striking man.
Hours later, Claire felt much better indeed. She ate the warmed mutton they'd brought along and watched the McDougall guards move away to where they'd spend the night. It was easy to see they formed a circle around where she and Maggie would sleep. She wondered if it was more to keep her from escaping or as protection. Maggie went to set up bedding for them in the back of the wagon, while she paced back and fourth, no plan of escape formulating. If she rode in the back of the wagon, it would be harder get away. On foot, the men on horseback could easily catch her.
It was a nice night out, the sun barely setting. Claire removed the pinnings from her hair and allowed the auburn waves to fall past her shoulders. She stretched like a cat appreciating the fact that she could finally move freely after all the hours on horseback.
Lachlan neared and Claire looked up just in time to catch his heated gaze before he quickly shifted to look away. When he looked at her again, his eyes were flat and emotionless prodding her to wonder if she'd imagined the earlier regard.
It still perplexed her that he was a McDougall, so different in coloring than his brother. He had the McDougall build, wide shouldered and tall. And the same intense personality that she'd grown to dislike.
Pompous the whole lot of them. Used to women immediately at their beck and call because of their fair faces.
An idea struck. Perhaps the answer on how to avoid marriage to the awful McDougall stood before her.
"I have never slept outdoors," she allowed her voice to quiver. "I am afraid to sleep so far away from you. Can I sleep here on your pallet?" She ran her hand over the bedding he'd put down just minutes earlier.
Lachlan's eyes widened, moved to her lips, and then away. "Nay."
"Why? It will be easier for you to ensure I do not run away."
"Claire." The huskiness in his voice made it hard for her to keep the façade of a terrified maid.
"Yes?"
"Why do you resist marrying my brother so? He is a good and fair man."
"I prefer to choose who I marry. Besides he is not the type of man I prefer. A wife should be attracted to her husband." A deep chuckle made her frown at him.
He moved closer and lowered to sit next to her. The urge to touch him was strong. Her reaction to him was perplexing. How could she feel any type of attraction for a McDougall? It didn't help matters that she could feel the heat of his body permeating at his proximity.
Seemingly oblivious to her reaction of his nearness, he continued speaking. "What do you know of such things? Ye are a maid and perhaps nervous at the prospect of joining with a man. I assure you all will be well once you marry."
"Bah!" Claire gave up the pretense. "I am no maid." She gasped at her outburst and went to stand, but he held her arm and yanked her back to sit.
"You've been with a man before?"
She straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. "At the harvest festivities
. All the single clanswomen get to pick a lad to steal away with, as you know. Of course it has always been different for my sister and me. No man dare touch the laird's daughters for fear. Last year, I chose a lad and took him."
Lachlan's mouth fell open. "You took him by force?"
"Only at first." Claire leaned forward toward Lachlan and smiled. "He didna resist for long."
His darkened eyes met hers. "You are an unusual woman, Claire McLean." The tone of his voice even, as he studied her for a moment. It was as if he touched her skin when his gaze slid to her mouth. "Under different circumstances..."
Quick for his large size, Lachlan got to his feet. "Your maid is here. Good night. Sleep in the wagon. I will give you privacy, but don't think you will get far if you run." After one last look, he stalked toward the tree line leaving her to stare at his back.
Chapter Four
The water was quite cold, which was exactly what Lachlan needed at the moment. Another few laps and hopefully he'd rid himself of the hardness between his legs. The damn woman pulled at his very essence. There was no denying it. He desired Claire McLean like he'd never any other woman in his life.
His brother's betrothed. Christ and he still had to spend two additional nights with the tempting wench.
Gasping for breath, Lachlan pulled himself from the river and lay on the soft grass. The stars twinkled above, but did little to settle him. Why was he being tempted like this? Although he could never be accused of being stern, Lachlan took pride in his ability to control his passions. A warrior was good as dead if he could not keep his head focused on the present.
The darkest red hair, fair skin, and those bewitching green eyes, so full of wicked promise. Like a curse she was forefront in his mind again. Lachlan reached between his legs and took himself in hand. Stroking his cock, he allowed her to fill his mind. The thought of her tempting lips surrounding made him even harder. Perhaps, it was best if he took care of the matter. He was far enough away from camp, so not to be overheard.
Highlander's Claim Page 4
