Kade leaned over me, and a tiny surge of excitement pricked my intimate places. He withdrew the knife from its small scabbard. He held its sharpened blade in his closed fist and I almost reminded him to be careful. But it occurred to me, of course, who I was speaking to. He hardly needed reminding of such things. Reaching for my hand, Kade placed the handle of the knife in my grasp, wrapping his own hand around mine. The knife’s glinty tip was pointed at him and he placed it against the skin of his side, above his hip and below his ribs. “Here,” he said. “If you are ever threatened in this way, this is where you strike. Gouge deep—and put some effort into it. Muscle is more resilient that you might expect. Up and in. Twist and slice. Like this.” He twisted the knife in our collective grasp to show me the motion. “All right? Show me.”
He let go of my hand, watching me. I mimicked the movement he’d shown me, twisting, gritting my teeth, giving him what I hoped was a look of ferocious menace.
He smiled widely, flashing white teeth. Then he laughed. I thought it strange that I would feel his laughter in my deepest depths, feeding the small excitement that lurked there at the sight of his blatant, rampant desire.
“That’s good,” he said, “although you need to concentrate more on your technique than your scowl. Like this,” he said, holding my hand and jerking the knife in a more forceful thrust as he twisted it in one fluid motion.
He was more satisfied by my second demonstration, and he rose from the bed as he watched me. “Keep practicing when no one’s about.” He pulled on his trews, tucking his massive manhood into place with some difficulty before fastening the ties.
“Husband,” I said, and I couldn’t hide the shyness in my voice, even though, by now, I had little cause for it. “Would you like me to—”
His heated gaze speared me with its intensity, and I paused, not entirely sure how I would articulate my offer. “Aye, wife. I would. But that will have to wait until later. I’m needed below.”
“But your—”
“I’ve been walking around like this since the moment I laid eyes on you, lass. The daily swims, alas, have little effect. I’ll be glad when this month is over,” he said wryly. Then he pulled his tunic over his head, slid on his boots and secured the three weapons belts he always wore, plus an extra one. “And you’ll be well occupied.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
OVER THE NEXT WEEK, Kade kept to his grueling schedule of hunting, working, leading and planning. By the end of the second week he was able to recruit as many as forty-seven men, whom he organized into ten separate hunting parties. Meat was distributed, the choicest cuts going to the men who made the best kills. At least half of each beast was used for drying and salting, to sustain our clan during the winter months. The butcher was a man of importance and would be newly recognized as such. The head gardeners had been relieved of their duties and replaced by younger, keener understudies, led by the Mackenzie gardeners who had come to train them. The Morrison clan, according to Kade, was ridiculously uneducated in the ways of agriculture; our methods were archaic, our equipment lacking.
Late at night, Kade would record the days’ events in detail into one of many leather-bound books he had brought with him in his travel trunks. He sent correspondence to both his brothers every third day, letters that were dispatched by messenger—with generous bribes for quick delivery. I wasn’t invited to see his writings—aside from the letter I had read while he slept—but I was occasionally given brief informational snippets when I asked him about a particular detail of his work.
Progress, he said, was slow. A growing number of clansmen were warming to his methods, aye, but the majority preferred the lax, hedonistic traditions instilled in the men by my father and encouraged by Aleck.
Kade returned late to our chambers, usually in a state of exhaustion, dirty and with his weapons stained with blood from one or more duels he had either been challenged to or instigated—these, he would not discuss. He took a swim in the loch behind the manor each day, either in the early morning or late at night; it was a ritual that had been instilled in him by his father, he said, before his memories even began. He seemed pleased that the back entrance easily accessible from our new chambers led directly to the loch’s edge, and even commented that our loch had cool, clear water and a small beach that was unusually sandy. The comment stuck with me since it was the only one I could recall that was even remotely positive about Glenlochie. He spoke of his beloved Kinloch often, and any comparison between the two keeps—and the two clans—was always heavily in favor of all things Mackenzie.
During the days, while Kade was busy hunting, swimming, dueling and training, I began to tackle managing the refurbishments of the manor. The staff, true to their word, carried out all instructions I gave them, with only the occasional grumble. Kade’s very first order of business each morning was to reward any staff member I happened to praise. He asked me to write down the names each day of those who excelled. He gave these workers meat, most of all, but also promised newly cured furs to those who were able to sustain their newfound work ethic. After a week of this routine, the kitchen workers were all but falling over themselves when I made my appearance each morning, awaiting my instructions and dutifully launching into their tasks.
And so, with much work to be done, my husband and I did not revisit the brief, private moments we had so far shared. For this, I felt both a mild sense of relief and a somewhat more pronounced disappointment. With all the stress of his situation, he had, at times, returned to the hardened warrior I had first seen him as. But now I knew better. Instead of recoiling from him in fear, I was drawn to him. I thought often of the dizzyingly pleasurable effects of his hands...and his mouth. I remembered his astonishing responses to my touch, the scalding intimacy. But Kade was resolute about keeping his vow to me, seeing his oath as the foundation of trust he was determined to uphold. He knew of my past, that I had been forced into complying with the commands of men under threat and abuse. I will secure your trust if it kills me, he’d said to me. I am nothing like them.
That the vow was difficult for him was obvious and it occurred to me that he kept this somewhat cold distance between us to ensure his own restraint. I didn’t know if he was avoiding me intentionally or if he was merely immersing himself in the work that needed doing. Either way, we did not see much of each other for days on end. Secretly, I counted the hours until our month-long sentence would come to an end.
Nine more days.
I hadn’t even been aware of his late arrival in the night and his early predawn departure this morning. I knew he had been here, though, since the fire was lit. It was a detail he never overlooked. Fire, he said, was life. It was warmth, security, fuel, safety. And he would not have his wife getting cold.
So it was that I dressed by the pleasantly blazing flame, readying myself for my day. I heard a knock at the door, recognizing it instantly, since the knock was immediately followed by several more impatient knocks.
My sisters.
I hadn’t seen them in more than a week, since Kade had moved us into our new wing and appointed me to oversee the staff. My sisters didn’t often venture far from their quarters, and I knew they had been busy preparing for Clementine’s journey to the convent. My lingering resentment over Maisie’s betrayal, too, had kept me away. I had chosen to believe my husband’s assurances. I steeled myself now, however, as she entered my chambers followed closely by Clementine, Lottie and Bonnie.
“Stella!” exclaimed Bonnie. “I have the most outstanding news. You won’t believe it when you hear it.”
“However did you convince Father to allow you to use Mother’s private rooms?” interrupted Maisie. Her eyes were bright with the conflict between us. We both knew of her own treachery and all the sorrowful reasons behind it. Once I might have let the matter go, preferring to keep the peace at all costs to myself. But I had grown too attached to my husband to forgive her so easily now.
Bonnie came to me, studying my face as though she hadn’t se
en me for some time. “Stella. You look different. You look...more at ease. You look good.”
At first I was unsure of her meaning. But then, I think I knew what she meant. I felt more at ease. I was no longer plagued by a feeling of uselessness and worthlessness. I was no longer afraid.
“I remember this room so clearly,” commented Clementine wistfully as she walked around the chambers, stopping to gaze out the diamond-shaped window. “I remember sitting right here, where you’re sitting, Stella. With her.” Clementine was the only one of us who had distinct memories of our mother. The rest of us had been too young to remember anything beyond a ghostly, undefined image.
“Are you packed for the nunnery?” I asked her.
Bonnie answered for her. “Clementine will stay a little longer. Your husband has deemed it too dangerous to be transporting her at the moment. He thinks she should wait until Campbell’s intentions are better understood.”
I was glad of this news. I watched my older sister’s face, reading there a relief, and always a compounding sadness that was now a pronounced part of her character. I smiled at her, and she managed to smile back. “I’m relieved, sister,” I said. “I never thought you’d be particularly well suited to a nunnery.”
Bonnie’s hand brushed a strand of my hair behind one shoulder as she abruptly changed the subject. “Stella, Caleb’s back. Jamie told me. Now that you’re married, he’s no longer considered a threat to the alliance. Jamie said Campbell’s men have been sighted prowling around the Highlands—in our near vicinity. ’Tis making everyone uneasy. And all Morrisons have been ordered to return to Glenlochie to bolster the forces, in case we have need of them. He arrived last night.”
It was a lot of information to absorb.
Caleb.
With some shock, I realized I hadn’t thought of Caleb in some time. Had I thought of him since we’d returned to Glenlochie after my wedding to Kade? I couldn’t remember. Taking a moment to measure the time since I’d last seen him, I realized it had been six or seven weeks since his banishment. Now the memory of him, still sweet, was dulled somehow. Instead of gripping my heart as it had done in the days following his exile, the recollection of him brought only a mild twinge of affection, mingled now with a lurch of tumultuousness.
“Isn’t it wonderful news, Stella?” Maisie said. “Now you can get what you truly want.” Her pink-cheeked face beamed with the pronouncement.
Very nearly losing my temper right then and there, I summoned all my powers of control. I knew my sister very well. And I could read the earnestness in her eyes. She thought, in her heart of hearts, that I wanted nothing to do with Kade Mackenzie. That detail, in itself, was not enough to allow me to forgive her for offering herself to him. I knew how desperately in love with Wilkie she had been, and still was. It was a love that would never, ever be realized. He was not only married but madly in love with his royal wife. It might have been only natural that Kade would be the next best thing. A substitute, aye, but still Wilkie’s flesh and blood. Easily accessible. As close to Wilkie as she would ever come, now that he was sworn to another.
But Kade Mackenzie was mine. A wave of zealous possessiveness undermined my self-control. “What I want, Maisie, is for you to stay away from my husband,” I said, and I had never heard my voice sound so forceful and direct.
Maisie looked temporarily stricken, but she recovered quickly. She twirled a lock of her hair around one finger. “Whatever do you mean, Stella?”
I stood, overcome by the image of Maisie, in all her voluptuousness, revealing herself to my husband. “You know what I mean! You offered yourself to Kade! How could you do such a thing? He’s not Wilkie, he’s Kade! My husband!”
“You never wanted him!” Maisie countered. “It was me who was meant to marry a Mackenzie!” Maisie broke down into impassioned tears. Bonnie went to her, patting her head, smoothing her hair as she wept. I felt little empathy for her. “You don’t deserve him,” Maisie blurted out weepily. “You can’t give a man like that what he truly wants.”
“I didn’t want him then, Maisie, but I want him now. And you’re wrong about that. In fact, I can give him precisely what he wants.” Beneath my anger and my jealousy, I felt the twinge of a new insecurity. Was I giving him what he wanted? I thought of his ecstasy under my touch, his revelatory release, and I knew that I had begun to give him what he wanted. But there was so much more I could give, if he would only let me.
Maisie wiped at her tears. “But what of Caleb?” She was already feeling remorse for her uncaring outburst. “I was only trying to help you, Stella. I thought...if Kade strayed first, then you could be with your beloved Caleb, as you wanted from the start.”
“Aye, Stella,” urged Bonnie. “Do you still have feelings for Caleb?”
“I don’t know,” I answered truthfully.
“He wants to see you. Right now.”
* * *
THE THOUGHT OF what I might say to Caleb, after all that had happened to me since we’d last been together, was unsettling. Two very distinct desires warred in my head. I thought of the fond memories: the soothing effect his presence had once afforded me, the gentleness of his approach, and how novel that had seemed to me at the time, after all the roughness I’d endured at the hands of men.
But much had passed since Caleb had been exiled. Much had changed. I had changed. I was a married woman now. Aside from the technicality of the marriage vows themselves, I now understood that I shared a very real and powerful connection with my new husband that only continued to intensify each time I saw him. Aye, Kade’s aggression had initially stirred my deepest anxieties. But now, after nearly a month as his wife, I knew there was more to him than aggression. I knew there was compassion. I knew there were wildly appealing layers to his personality and his motivations that I had only barely begun to discover. And I wanted to discover them. I wanted to discover him. As sweet as my memories of Caleb were, I didn’t want his reintroduction into my life to undermine this complex and intriguing quest.
Or did I?
It was this indecision that unnerved me most of all.
“I can’t visit him now,” I said. “I’ve work to do. My husband has appointed me in charge of the refurbishments of the manor.”
My sisters—aside from Maisie, who already knew of my strange new pastime—stared at me in openmouthed surprise.
“And,” I continued, ignoring their shock, “I’d like it very much if you would accompany me. You may choose any area of the keep that you’d like to assist with. You might find you enjoy it, as I have. ’Tis really rather rewarding to watch a room transform from one that’s dirty and unkempt to one where you’d actually like to spend your time. There were some difficulties at first, but the staff is working well after my husband talked to them. The food is somewhat improved, although I still think we could do better. And I’ve a group of young girls I’ve recruited whose job it is to collect the wildflowers—there are some lovely ones this time of year.”
I couldn’t help noticing a change in Clementine’s expression. She seemed almost...excited. It was a look I hadn’t seen on her face for some time. “Aye, Stella, we’ll help you,” she said. Then, quietly, as though she feared voicing the question aloud: “But what of Father? Won’t he be angry with us for interfering?”
“My husband has promised his...protection.” I hoped for a fleeting moment his sworn protection would extend to my sisters. But then, Kade was staunchly dedicated to his own family—his sisters included. I’d witnessed their close family ties firsthand, and I’d been amazed by their camaraderie. I felt entirely certain that Kade would step up if any threat was posed to my sisters. If I hadn’t felt this certainty, I would never have suggested they come with me. As it was, they seemed surprisingly eager to help. Only Bonnie and Maisie bowed out, claiming that they had other matters to attend to. Lottie and Clementine followed me down the stairs.
And they were intrigued already, I could see, at the difference. The morning was cold and gray. Outs
ide the windows, winter’s promise hung in the cold wind and the steady drizzling rain. The hall, though, as we entered it, was warm and cozily lit, with the fire crackling in the grand stone fireplace. Candles ensconced into inlaid nooks of the stone walls flickered, casting a pleasant glow into the large space. A large bouquet of late-autumn flowers was placed in the middle of the largest table, giving the room an added measure of grandeur and sophistication. It was I who had gathered and arranged the flowers and I was pleased by the way their rich green and gold colors complemented the tapestries, which had been taken out of doors and beaten until all the many years of dust had blown away. Without the dust, the weaved images came to life, depicting scenes of hunts and landscapes. These tapestries had been weaved by my ancestors, my kin, and I was proud that they were being restored and newly appreciated. They gave a magical aura to the room, as though they presented windows into past glories and future possibilities.
And the hall itself was spotlessly clean. Cleaner, in fact, than I had ever seen it. I’d watched and helped in past days as the staff attended to their work with a renewed enthusiasm, but the overall effect, as I viewed it as though with the fresh eyes of my sisters, was quite remarkable.
“Stella,” Clementine gasped. The scent of freshly baked bread wafted from the kitchens, and as we entered, all the workers looked up, pausing in their tasks to greet us. Isla seemed especially welcoming and rushed over to me.
“Milady,” she said, “we’ve lit the fire early this morning, since the day is chilled.”
“I noticed that, Isla. ’Tis so inviting. I’m going to mention to my husband what a pleasing job you’ve done.”
Juliette Miller - [Clan MacKenzie 02] Page 19
