by Willa Blair
“Georgie?”
She kept her gaze on the lads while she talked. “He’s one of the reasons I must go home. Georgie’s an orphan,” she lied. She couldn’t tell Euan the truth without revealing more about herself. Things she knew he wouldn’t accept, after some of his comments in the cave. “He’s a wee lad, small for his age. The other lads…well, they can be very unkind. He has no one to defend him, to help him. I need to ken someone has taken care of him since I…disappeared.”
“What do ye mean, the other lads can be unkind?’
Euan’s abrupt tone startled her, and she shifted her stance to face him. “They chase him and beat him. Worse, they laugh when he tries to join in the training. He’s too small to defend himself, and the arms master thinks he’s too young to start training. He willna accept that Georgie is as old as some of his lads, just smaller and weaker.”
Euan’s expression surprised her. Distant, as if he focused on an old pain, yet fierce, brow drawn down and jaw tense.
“Euan?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. ’Tis a familiar story.”
A heavy sense of dismay started to fill in from the edges of her belly. “Is it?”
He glanced at her, then went back to watching the lads. “Aye. But ye needna fash. By the time ye get back, ye may find wee Georgie has learned to take care of himself…one way or another.”
“What do ye mean?” She didn’t like the sound of that. “One way or the other?”
“If the other lads havena beaten him to a pulp, he will either have learned how to fight using his small size and quickness, or…”
“Or what?”
“Or he’ll be gone. Run away. Unless someone else has taken over protecting him.”
“Oh God.” Muireall closed her eyes. If Georgie believed she’d abandoned him, he might well have run away. How could he survive on his own? The thought made her belly cramp.
“Ach, lass, I’m sorry. I didna mean to upset ye.” Euan turned his back on the lads and grasped her shoulders. Peering into her eyes, he rested his forehead against hers. “Wee Georgie will be fine. If ye have had the care of him, the lad kens someone loves him. He’ll be there when ye return. And I’ll bet he’ll have worked hard to make ye proud of him.”
Muireall slumped, desperate to collapse into Euan’s embrace, put her arms around his neck and cling to him as she’d clung to hope the past month, but they were in full view of the lads—and anyone else in this part of the bailey. Instead, she stiffened her spine and stepped back. “I pray ye are right,” she said. “But now ye ken why I must go back as quickly as possible.”
Euan sighed and let her go. “I do, lass, more than ye can imagine.”
Chapter 11
When Muireall answered her door the next morning, she was surprised to find Annie Rose standing there. “Good morning, Lady Brodie,” she greeted her, suddenly nervous. What was the laird’s wife doing at her door?
“Annie will do.”
Very well, she wanted to be informal. “Lady Annie.”
Annie laughed. “Just call me Annie. Please,” she answered, opening her hands. “Lady Brodie, even Lady Annie, makes me sound eighty years old!”
“Ye are no’ that!” Embarrassed, Muireall stepped back. “Very well, Annie, would ye like to come in?”
“Actually, I came to ask if ye and Ella would like to go riding with me.”
Riding! “I…we never…” But she wanted to…oh how she did!
“Ye dinna ken how to ride?” Annie’s wide-eyed expression communicated shock.
Muireall shook her head. “Neither of us do.”
“Well, then we’ll have to remedy that right away.” She spread her hands. “Ye canna go everywhere in a boat. And wagons are too slow. Ye must learn to ride. ’Tis one of my most favorite things to do.”
Her blush reminded Muireall of Euan telling her while they were still in the cave that his laird was recently married, and gave Muireall the idea what other favorite thing a relatively new bride might like to do.
“We’ve never needed to go anywhere…so we had nay reason to learn. Only the warriors ride.”
Annie shook her head, her jaw clenched. “At Brodie, everyone who wishes to, does.”
“What do we need?”
“Boots…I’ll find ye some. Trews would be best, but we’ll make do. Today, we’ll get ye on a lovely, gentle mare and walk about a bit. Perhaps by the time ye go back to Munro, ye’ll have learned all ye need to ride…and ride well.”
“I hope so. Thank ye.”
“Ye wake Ella and meet me in the great hall to break yer fast, and then we’ll go, aye? By then, I should have found some boots for ye.”
With a grin, Annie left her. Watching her walk away, Muireall smiled. There was something…always positive and cheerful…about Annie Rose. No wonder Iain Brodie had fallen in love with her.
She stepped across the hall and rapped on Ella’s door. In moments, Ella appeared, rumpled and with a plaid wrapped over her chemise.
“Did I wake ye?”
“Almost. I heard ye speaking to someone.”
“That was Annie, the laird’s wife. Ye ken what she’s offered. I really want to do this. Perhaps then I can teach Georgie.”
Ella nodded. “Aye, then at least he can ride away from his tormentors.”
“Put on yer old dress—I dinna think the satin one will suit.”
“I’m no’ certain if I can…” Ella glanced aside.
“Do ye think ye will get the chance to learn at Munro when ye have no’ yet?”
“Nay.” She squared her shoulders. “Ye have the right of it. I’ll be down soon.”
Muireall braided her hair and headed downstairs, excitement making her steps light and quick. She didn’t see Annie yet, so she sat with some of the other Brodie lasses. Ella joined them a few minutes later. The lasses entertained them with stories of when they learned to ride, and how Annie was changing their life at Brodie, giving the lasses the chance to learn skills traditionally reserved for the lads. Muireall liked what she heard.
Annie came in a few minutes later. “I left boots for ye at the stable. No sense bringing them in here. Are ye ready?”
Muireall stood. “I am.”
Ella popped a last bite of bread in her mouth, chewed and swallowed as she stood. “I am, too.”
On the way to the stable, Annie told them about the mounts she’d picked for them. “The stable lads are saddling them. All ye need to do is put on boots and then sit on the horses. We’ll get ye comfortable there, then perhaps we’ll go for a walk.”
“But we’re keeping ye from the ride ye wanted to take.” Muireall felt she had to object to be polite. And she truly didn’t want to keep Annie from doing something she enjoyed.
“I can ride when we’re done. ’Tis important to me that ye learn. Every lass should be able to, for yer own protection.”
Annie shooed the stable boy out of a stall so Muireall and Ella could change into the boots in privacy. She’d guessed well. They weren’t a perfect fit, but close enough. Once Muireall was up on the mare Annie picked for her, her excitement bubbled over. She could do this!
“If only we’d been able to ride before the Rosses took us. We might have ridden away and never been taken,” Muireall mused.
Ella looked a bit less enthusiastic once she was on horseback. “Ye might have. I’m no’ certain I would have.”
Annie chuckled as she mounted and picked up her reins, then theirs. “I’m going to walk ye out of the stable, so ye can become accustomed to a horse’s gait. Dinna fash. Ye willna fall.”
Muireall quickly adapted to her mare’s rocking gait. She didn’t enjoy the stares they got from the Brodies in the bailey. But in moments, she realized Annie was headed for the keep’s gate. Away from the bailey, Muireall relaxed.
Then she noticed Euan watching from the keep’s wall walk. She lifted a hand to wave, but felt her balance shift uncertainly, and dropped her hand to the saddle with an oath.
Muireall nodded, her heart rate slowing. “Aye. I tried to wave to Euan and wobbled. I think he’s coming out.”
Annie nodded. “Good. He can help ye while I attend to Ella.”
Euan caught up with them just outside the gate. “What are ye doing?” He looked first to Annie, then to Muireall. “Do ye ken how to ride?”
Muireall glanced at Annie, then answered for both of them. “I will soon, and I’ll thank ye no’ to interfere.”
Euan whirled to Annie. “What will ye do if one of those nags suddenly bolts?”
“Go after it, of course. But they willna. They’re well trained.”
“I’m coming with ye,” he declared.
Annie smirked. “I thought ye might. We’ll be here when ye return.”
Muireall wanted to laugh, but Euan’s look of disgust made her school her features.
Annie dismounted and kept them busy getting used to how a horse moves at a walk, then handed them the reins and got back on her mare. “Ye seem comfortable enough to hold the reins. Keep walking. If your mount tries to go faster, pull back on the reins. I’ll be right with ye if ye need help.”
Euan rode up. “So will I,” he said, obviously having heard at least Annie’s final words.
Annie led off with Ella.
Euan fell in beside Muireall. “How does it feel?”
She shrugged. “Still a bit strange, but getting better.”
He reached over and laid his hand on hers and left it there. “Ye dinna have to choke the reins. They willna go anywhere. Hold them loosely and relax.”
Muireall grimaced. He’d seen through her nonchalance. She loosened her hold on the strips of leather in her hands and sighed, then glanced at Euan and smiled.
“That’s better.” He rewarded her with one of his rare grins. “Now look around ye. ’Tis a beauty of a day. The sun is shining, ’tis warmer than usual. Ye are out of the keep and with me. What more could ye want?”
Muireall had to laugh at that.
Euan gave her a wounded pout that quickly dissolved, and he laughed along with her.
Annie twisted in the saddle, glanced back at them and grinned.
Muireall gave her a quick wave, and Annie turned forward again.
“She likes ye, ye ken. Annie doesna teach adults. She starts with the young ones, so they’re comfortable with horses and weapons as they grow.”
“As ye said, she’s…unusual.”
“Aye, she is that. But so are ye, lass. Brave and kind, all wrapped in a beautiful bundle.”
Muireall blushed. “Have ye been into that strong Brodie ale?”
Euan laughed. “Nay, Muireall. I’ve nay need of spirits to brighten my mood, no’ when I’m with ye.”
That evening, Euan sat with Calum, off to the side by the fire in the great hall, watching some of the clan—and Muireall and Ella Munro—finish their meal at the long tables filling the center of the room. The Munro lasses were the center of attention—especially Ella. And they both seemed to be enjoying themselves. Calum was seething and drinking too much. Euan felt sorry for him. A lass as beautiful as Ella would always garner male attention, even if Calum found a way to marry her. Not a simple or easy task, given what was going on tonight, or the fact that she’d left a betrothed behind at Munro and a husband at Ross. Euan shook his head. He hoped she was worth the trouble Calum would have to suffer through to win her—and to unsnarl all the obligations already heaped on the lass.
As for Muireall—since he’d returned from Ross territory, he had little appetite for food, but his appetite for Muireall had grown enormous. Much like Calum, ale and whisky were the only things he’d found to soothe that hunger.
He’d tried to do as Iain had ordered and be her host and protector while she was here. But he found he couldn’t be with her and not want her. Since Ella’s arrival, he’d avoided being alone with Muireall for her sake. Riding with her, Ella, and Annie this morning had validated his instinct to keep his distance. He’d enjoyed being with her and teaching her too much. He’d been left hard and hungrier than he could remember ever being, wanting to teach her a very different kind of riding. Longing for Muireall burned in his blood every time he saw her. He feared what he might do if he got her alone.
She’d been threatened, and she’d tolerated more than any lass should in Donas Ross’s camp. No matter how much he might need her, for as long as she remained, Brodie was supposed to be her sanctuary.
Yet she was his sanctuary. If only he could find a way to tell her.
Iain was sure to take him to task soon, and he dreaded the confrontation. How could he explain to the Brodie chief the torment he was in?
Iain’s marriage to Annie had settled their laird and repaired his skirt-chasing reputation. Would Iain remember what such longing felt like? Since taking over the clan, Iain Brodie never cracked. Nothing ruffled his calm confidence. And his marriage to Annie Rose was as solid and loving as any Euan had ever seen.
Euan didn’t expect much sympathy.
Movement at Muireall’s table distracted him. Muireall and Ella stood up with two of the other lasses at their table, but instead of going with the others, Muireall headed toward him.
Calum chuckled as Euan tensed. “Here she comes, lad. Are ye going to stay and speak to the lass or head for the hills?”
“The hills are gaining in appeal,” Euan told him as he stood.
“Euan, Calum,” Muireall called out as she neared, giving Euan no time to escape.
Calum got to his feet, bowed and made his excuses. “I’ve warmed the chair for ye, lass. Ye and Euan sit and enjoy the fire.”
With that, he walked away, a bit unsteady but mobile, probably intent on finding Ella. Euan watched him go with narrowed eyes. Calum would regret leaving him like this. Then he remembered his manners and turned back to Muireall. “I was just leaving. Would ye like to sit by the fire?”
“Nay, Euan. What I would like is to speak with ye. Somewhere private.”
Euan’s gut clenched. Here was the request he’d been dreading all day. “I dinna think that’s a very good idea, lass.” He took a step away from her, but she followed.
Her chin lifted. “Are ye afraid of me, then?”
He could not have heard her correctly. “Afraid?” He snorted. “Nay. Why would any man be afraid of a lass?”
“I dinna ken, but ye have been avoiding me. I could only assume ye feared being seen with me. Is yer laird still angry ye brought me here?”
“What?” He waved a hand. “Nay. Iain was never angry about that.”
“Then why?”
“He’s angry about Donas.”
“Why should he care about Donas? Now that he’s dead, he canna hurt anyone else. Iain should ken that.” She shook her head and pushed a hand aside as if pushing away the topic of Donas Ross. “So, if he is no’ angry about bringing me here, then why have ye been avoiding me?”
Euan closed his eyes and huffed out a breath, then took her elbow and led her out of the hall and down a side corridor. Just touching her arm made his hunger for her turn into a great throbbing beast in his blood. “What do ye want, Muireall?”
“I want to ken why, other than this morning, ye have been avoiding me.” She whirled to face him, pulling her arm out of his grip. “Is it because I remind ye of what happened? The shipwreck? Yer men?”
Euan’s breath froze into a painful lump in his chest for a moment, the heat of his desire vanquished by the image of James’s body at the prow of their stolen skiff. Euan blinked, hard, willing the image away. The pain stayed.
“Euan, I’m so sorry.” Muireall laid a hand on his cheek. “I didna mean to hurt ye. But I’ve been…bereft…without yer company these last few days. Riding with ye only showed me how much.”
Euan inhaled. She was standing close. Too close. He could smell her womanly scent and feel the heat radiating from her. Her breath teased across his skin. The throbbing in his blood moved lower.
; Before he could stop himself, he took her in his arms and crushed her mouth under his. She tasted like honey. Like salvation. He felt his chest thaw as heat rose from his balls to his belly to his heart. He couldn’t stop kissing her, inhaling her scent, murmuring her name. He was hard and starving. She was the only meal he craved.
She kissed him back, once, twice, then pushed him away. “I see,” she said, her expression stern.
Maybe he’d drunk too much, because he didn’t understand what she thought she saw. But he understood his need to kiss her, so he bent to take her mouth again.
But she put her hand over his lips. “What is this about, Euan?”
He reared back, eyebrows raised. “About? How can ye ask? I thought ye just said ye missed me. I missed ye as well.”
“And this is how ye show me? Nay, ye feel guilt over yer men. Ye are trying to take yer anger out on me because ye ken I willna strike back.” She lifted her chin. “If it helps ye, I can take it. But Euan, ye canna take the blame for the storm. Can ye no’ see that?”
Hot tears had gathered in his eyes while she spoke, making him furious. She’d been correct earlier. He did fear her. Not of being seen with her. He feared hurting her, lashing out at her.
But she apparently had no fear of him.
She stood on tiptoe, leaned in and kissed him, then moved her lips to his cheek to kiss away the salt of a tear that escaped.
Suddenly the floodgates opened. Everything he’d been holding in burst out in one anguished groan. Euan fell against the wall at his back and pulled her tightly to him, his arms locking her in place while her kisses moved over his face. He fought for control without success. When he buried his face in her shoulder, she kissed his ear and threaded her fingers in his hair.
“’Tis going to be well, ye’ll see,” she cooed, soothing him. “’Twas no’ yer fault, love. How could anyone blame ye for the storm or what followed? Ye must no’ blame yerself.”
“But I do,” Euan choked out as he lifted his head and met her gaze, heedless of how his eyes must look. “For all of that, and for not taking ye home right away.”
“Ye will take me home when the time is right.” She grasped the hand he lifted to her face, curling her fingers around his. “In the meantime, I am content to be where ever ye are.” She laid her cheek against his fingers.
