Taming the Highlander

by May McGoldrick

  “You do?” She glanced up. Jinny looked away, but it appeared she was blushing.

  Finishing her note, Innes folded it. “Please have him deliver this to the earl. It is for his eyes only.”

  Innes handed the letter to Jinny and watched the serving woman hold it to her chest as if it were the jewels of the royal family. She started for the door and then stopped.

  “So these are no rumors,” Jinny said with a broad smile. “He’s really taken with you.”

  “Out with you.”

  “Is it safe to say there may be another wedding?”

  “Go, Jinny.”

  Innes closed the door behind the woman and leaned her back against it. Her eyes immediately teared.

  She was in love with Conall Sinclair, but she couldn’t say what was in her heart. Not yet. Only when she made him aware of her gift could he really know her . . . and accept her for who she truly was. But would he?

  She stared at the precious chess set. She had no doubt about the gift’s intent. Her sister’s advice came back to her. Tell him sooner and not later . . . before you fall in love with him.

  But her heart had already crossed into later.

  Conall opened the letter and smiled. A chess move. That’s all. She led with the queen’s knight. A challenging position to put herself into for the start of the game. She wasn’t making it easy for herself. He turned to Duff.

  “Did she say anything more?”

  “Nay, m’lord. Jin . . . uh, the Munro woman said that her mistress sent this, and I was to bring it to you right away.”

  He couldn’t believe it. He was actually nervous. When had he ever asked a woman to marry him? Never.

  He wanted Innes. He wanted her in his bed. He wanted to open his eyes each day and see her face next to his. To plan, to live, to look forward to this day, and the next day, and the next, with Innes at his side. But what did he have to give her in return?

  He had to go before he lost his courage. He headed to the door with Thunder trotting after him.

  “You stay here, beast.”

  The wolf sat back on his haunches, wearing a dejected look.

  He got to the door, but the wolf’s whimper stopped him. “By the devil. Very well, come on. My chances might be better with you alongside me.”

  Thunder pranced over and ran down the stairs ahead of him.

  Taking the tunnel under the castle to the East Tower, he wondered if Innes would see him alone or if someone else needed to be present. His plan for this visit was honorable. The rumors circulating about them would very shortly disappear, though. He intended to make their news public as soon as she agreed to marry him.

  Of course, there needed to be a visit to Folais Castle. He needed to work out the details with her father and secure his assent. The Munros had provided support for the Sinclairs in all the battles he and his father fought. He knew that if Innes accepted him, Hector would as well.

  Thunder was already scratching at her door when he reached the landing.

  “Sit.”

  The wolf obeyed.

  “Let me be doing the talking,” Conall ordered.

  Thunder jumped at the door again, scratching away.

  “You are a bloody beast.”

  The door opened and before Conall could catch him, the wolf had his paws on Innes’s shoulders and was kissing her face. The sound of her laughter was a caress.

  “Down, Thunder,” Conall commanded.

  For once, the animal listened. A quick glance around the room told him it was only the two of them. He fought the urge to do what Thunder had done. She stood within his reach, wiping her face dry with a kerchief, a smile lingering on her lips. Her face was flushed. Her eyes shone. Had she been crying? He couldn’t tell.

  A moment of doubt edged in. Nay, he thought. Don’t be a fool.

  Thunder jumped on the bed across the room.

  Conall glared at him. He needed no reminder of where he wanted to be with Innes. If he were to kiss Innes, or touch her right now, that wolf would need to move over. He’d been thinking of making love to her, dreaming of it. He couldn’t wait until she was his.

  “Down, wanton,” he ordered.

  The wolf only made himself more comfortable on the bedclothes.

  “I’m sorry that I brought him with me.” He took a step toward the bed and Thunder, sensing imminent threat, jumped back down. “He forgets he’s a wild animal when he’s with you.”

  “That’s because he’s not a wild animal.” She petted Thunder’s head as he came and sat like a perfect pet beside her. “In fact, I prefer his company to many humans’.”

  “If you’re saying that I have to compete with him, too, for time with you, then I’ll be wearing this beast as a cloak next winter.”

  She laughed and shook her head, a blush rising into her cheek. “No competition. I’ll be available to you any time you wish.”

  Innes walked away just as her words settled in his mind. Did she just give her consent?

  “This chess set is magnificent,” she said. “Who made it?”

  She sat down on one side of the board, motioning to him to take the opposite seat. She’d already made her move, the same one she’d sent him in her letter. Thunder sided with her, lying down at her feet.

  As he sat, Conall noticed the items she’d stacked up on the table beside the board. Her portfolio of drawings. A pouch that she always wore at her belt. Her gloves.

  “The set was carved by one of the Norse craftsmen who built Castle Girnigoe nearly eighty years ago. It’s been in our family ever since.”

  She winced and sat back. “What is it doing here? Shouldn’t it be kept safe somewhere?”

  “Bryce hates chess. He only plays it because I force him to. This set has been sitting in storage.”

  “Still, you should never have brought it here.”

  “It’s a gift, from me to you.”

  She shook her head. “This is too valuable.”

  “It is a gift, Innes, from the earl of Caithness to the woman he’s proposing marriage to.”

  Conall braced himself. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t tears. Confusion tore at him as she stabbed away at beads rolling down her cheeks. She refused to look into his face.

  The two of them sat in silence for what felt like eternity. He finally found some words. “I take it my offer is not . . . acceptable.”

  She took an uneven breath and looked up. “Nothing has ever made me happier than the offer you’ve just made.”

  That only compounded the confusion battering away at him. Her assertion of happiness did not match the sadness she clearly felt.

  He couldn’t bear it if she refused him, not after daring to hope. He wanted her to be his wife. He needed her in his life. He reached across the board and took her hand. “What is it? Talk to me. Don’t make me sit here feeling helpless.”

  “You know nothing about me.”

  In so many ways, she was an innocent. Beneath the armor, she was vulnerable. For whatever reason, she’d suffered since her mother’s death. He wished he could take away that pain. “I know enough.”

  Innes shook her head again. Freeing her hand, she sat back and motioned to the board. “We’ll play this game. With each piece you take, you can ask a question.”

  “About what?”

  “About my past. About the unknown in my life. You can ask anything you want to know about the woman you want to marry.”

  “I ask a question and you answer?”

  “Aye. And I promise to tell you the absolute truth.”

  “What about me? The pieces that you take. Are you also going to ask about my past?”

  “Nay.” She smiled gently. “I won’t. This is my gift to you. The gift of truth.”

  He stared at the board for a moment before looking up into her face. She appeared to have her emotions under control. He wanted to reach over and kiss those crystal pearls off her cheek. He wanted to tell her that there could be nothing in her past as dark as what l
ay buried in his. She had nothing to hide, but his demons haunted him.

  “Does it matter who wins?” he asked.

  “The game we are about to play is not about winning. It’s simply about learning, as life is.”

  “Will you agree to marry me after this game?”

  “Will you agree to finish the game?”

  He studied her beautiful, tearful face. There were words that he’d still not spoken. He wanted her not because of suitable arrangements for their clans, or her dowry, or causing elation in his brother and her sister. He wanted Innes because he loved her. “Aye. I give you my word.”

  “Then I will marry you.” She brushed the last of the tears from her face. “But only if you find it in your heart to repeat your proposal.”

  Chapter 17

  “The villagers are coming for me now. I see their torches on the brae above my glen. The priest has found me out and will have his vengeance. I know the fiery death that awaits me. The good lass I have chosen awaits this chronicle. I must stop here and make good her escape. I pray she finds a place of safety among Clan Munro. She is a young woman of quality. God protect her . . .”

  From the Chronicle of Lugh

  This was the best way. He needed to know all of it.

  She wouldn’t trick him. She couldn’t lie to him. He needed to know the burden Innes brought with her, and how much of it would fall on the shoulders of her husband, if she ever were to marry. He needed to understand that he wasn’t only joining his hand with hers in marriage; he was opening his soul to her for as long as she lived.

  It was time. With chess, there were rules. He’d promised to finish the game. Now she could set the pace.

  The first piece he captured was a pawn.

  “That shock of bonnie white hair.” His blue eyes caressed it. “Did you always have it?”

  “This?” It had fallen across her face. She pushed it behind an ear. “It went white the day of my mother’s burial.”

  “But you were just seven, you said.”

  “You’ll not find a great deal of logic to my life.”

  “What do you think caused it?”

  “That’s another question. You’ll have to earn the answer.”

  His smile made her heart swell. She stared at the board, not allowing herself to hope. She captured a pawn and his bishop in two turns. He was forced to take out her king’s knight.

  Innes had started the game recklessly, daring him to capture her pieces. Conall, on the other hand, was playing cautiously, allowing her to make mistakes. There were no mistakes on her part. Every loss was intentional.

  “The black dress. Do you ever wear another color?”

  “Never. Except what I wear to bed. I meant to say, my shifts are all white.”

  His gaze flickered to the bed and back, then moved down the front of her dress. Her cheeks warmed as she remembered what went through his mind back at Wick and again by the loch. She prayed there would come a day when she could fulfill every one of his desires.

  “Do you have to sacrifice another of your pieces before I ask when you started wearing it, and why?”

  “That’s two extra questions, but I’m feeling generous, so I’ll answer.”

  He laughed. “I like this way of playing chess. And I appreciate your generosity.”

  She patted Thunder’s head. He lay at her feet, his head resting against her knee. Innes wondered if the wolf sensed the inner chaos she was trying to keep hidden. “I was seventeen. I wore black when my father’s wife introduced me to one of her cousins. I knew the man had come to Folais Castle to ask for my hand in marriage.”

  “And he was discouraged by the color of your dress?”

  “That and my cool treatment of him. Also, I gave him some odd responses to his questions.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He asked what I was mourning. I told him I was mourning the loss of innocence in the world. He asked how long my mourning would last. I asked how long he thought the world would last.”

  Conall laughed. The loud heartfelt sound made Innes smile.

  “You were too much for him,” he said.

  “I suppose he came looking for a bride, rather than a philosopher in black. In any event, he didn’t stay very long.”

  “It all worked so well that you decided to adopt the habit.”

  “Aye. I felt a change in myself from that point on,” she said, making her move. “I began to speak my mind. Stand up for myself. Protect my sister. My father knew I was different, but he’s a good man. He has always stood by me, allowed me to be who I needed to be. With each passing year, my armor became stronger, my tongue a wee bit sharper.”

  “You don’t frighten me, you know.”

  “And yet many men find me terrifying.”

  “I’m glad of that.” He reached across the board, cupping her face with his hand. “Dear Innes, I respect and admire the woman that you’ve become. If you were less strong, or less direct, I believe I wouldn’t feel this way.”

  His thumb caressed her bottom lip, and Innes’s breath caught in her chest. She wanted to lose herself in his touch, in his affection and passion. But they were far from finished with this game.

  As he captured the next piece, his gaze wandered to the items on the table. “The gloves. Are they part of your shield, too? Did you start wearing them the same time you began wearing black?”

  Her heart beat so hard in her chest that Innes thought he might hear it. “The glove is my greatest shield. The one I use to protect those I meet.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She stared at the chessboard, at the gloves, at the leather pouch with the relic on the table. She couldn’t look him in the eye. It was time to tell him the rest of it. It was time to show him.

  “I need you to make a vow to me,” she said.

  “Of course. That is exactly what we’re playing for.”

  She took a deep breath. “With the exception of my father and sister—and Wynda, as of last week—no one else knows what I’m about to reveal to you about myself.”

  Her hands were shaking. She tucked them between her knees. Now that the moment was here, doubt ripped at her will.

  “Speak to me, Innes,” Conall said. “I promise you that I will never repeat anything you tell me now.”

  She recalled some of the accounts she’d read in the chronicle her mother left. “You understand that if you do, it will mean my death.”

  He paused and then took her hand. “Whatever it is, I shall safeguard your secret.”

  She looked into Conall’s eyes, reading the thoughts rushing through his mind, understanding that he would protect her regardless.

  “Do not fear. I am no witch. There is no sorcery. What I am about to show you has come down to me across generations. I had no choice about accepting it, until it was too late.”

  Innes freed her hand. She couldn’t stand seeing his thoughts, hearing the questions before he said them. And he was worried about her. She was giving him pain.

  She picked up the pouch. “Open your hand.”

  There was no hesitation. He opened his palm. She dropped the relic into his hand.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “This was given to me by my mother on her deathbed.”

  He studied the carved stone in his palm.

  “What do you see?” she asked.

  “A stone tablet. The edges are rough, as if it was broken off of a larger tablet.” He lifted it to the light of the candle and stared at the unusual markings that had smoothed with age. “It looks to be very old.”

  “Do you feel it?”

  “Feel what?” he asked.

  “Is it warm to your touch?”

  “Nay.”

  “Do you feel the power that runs through it?”

  He met her gaze. “I feel nothing. It’s just a piece of stone.”

  “Hold it out in your palm.”

  Innes placed her own hand over his, with the stone between their palms. Her finge
rs warmed. The heat radiated wherever their skin met. The stone channeled the power from Innes and extended it to Conall. She’d tried this only once with Ailein. Her sister had been terrified of the power.

  Innes saw Conall’s mind flood with questions and concentrated on reaching him.

  I’m telling you the truth, she thought. Believe me when I tell you that I have no choice in this gift. Her words repeated in his mind. She then thought back to the two of them at the loch, and she knew he was seeing it too . . . except he was seeing the moment through her eyes, through her memory. He understood how she felt.

  The relic dropped onto the chessboard as he pulled away his hand. He looked into her eyes. “You spoke to me, and yet you said not a word.”

  She nodded.

  “I heard it. I felt it. By ’sblood, I saw it. I saw us!”

  “You were in my thoughts. You were seeing my past, my memory.”

  “How?” A look of suspicion had edged into his face.

  “It’s the tablet.”

  He picked up the piece again. “Anyone holding this can read someone’s mind? See their past?”

  “Right now, it only empowers me and no one else,” she explained. “Except when I extend that power through the stone. As we just did. But that’s only momentary.”

  He stared at it in silence. She knew how much this was to sort through.

  “Is this what you were talking about when you said your life changed when your mother died?” he asked.

  She met his gaze. “Aye. You asked about the patch of white hair. It was the stone. It was the realization that there could be no more secrets in the world. Souls were exposed to me. Lies were revealed. My childhood was shattered, finished. I wasn’t joking with my first suitor when I said I mourned the loss of innocence.”

  The game was forgotten. His interest gave her hope that perhaps he’d understand.

  “How did your mother come to have it?” he asked.

  “She received it from a line of women who had it before her. At Folais Castle, we have a chronicle that is kept under lock and key. It’s a narrative written by those who possessed this stone from the time it arrived on our northern shores, fifty years ago. It also explains the greater power behind other stones that are out there,” she explained. “My mother’s is the last entry in the chronicle. Someday, when I know the person I will pass the relic on to, I will add my account to it as well.”