The Trouble with Highlanders

by Mary Wine

  “So ye are insane.” Norris delivered his opinion in a hard tone. He hooked her upper arm with one hand and swept her toward the keep. The people standing on the steps scrambled to clear a path for them.

  They were inside the great hall and inside the chamber her father had used for meetings with his captains before she shook off her shock. The weapons and armor that hung on the walls seemed to suit her mood.

  And Norris’s, too, by the look of fury on his face.

  “Enough, Norris Sutherland…” she sputtered softly, his name feeling foreign on her tongue. “I am not insane but seeing to the things that need doing until me brother arrives.”

  “Ye do nae belong on the wall, woman. An archer could take ye out in a heartbeat, since ye have nae been trained to protect yerself and ye had no protective clothing covering yer chest and neck.”

  “Well, that would please more than a few.”

  Her comment surprised him. For just a moment he stopped glowering at her, and she had a glimpse of the playful nature she had a dim memory of. It was fleeting, though, and he crossed his arms over his chest. His gaze was keen, and he swept her from head to toe. His leather doublet had dust on it from the road, but his chin was free of whiskers. On his head was a knitted bonnet, just like his men wore, only the three feathers adorning its side all pointed up. He was every bit the laird, even if his father still lived. As far as the Sutherlands went, they were solidly united. Norris had the authority to do whatever he pleased, but at the same time, all knew he was a loyal son.

  She lowered her eyelashes for a moment, unwilling to let him see the hunger in her eyes. “What do ye want, Norris Sutherland? If ye are seeking shelter for the night, we’ve pitiful little to offer ye. I can barely feed me own kin.”

  “Is that why ye are so thin?” he asked with too much knowledge for her pride. She could see him tracing her exposed cheekbones. It irritated her because she didn’t need everyone in the Highlands to know their plight. They’d bear the burden, and it would pass into memory soon enough.

  “We’re well enough.”

  “How much did they take?” he demanded softly.

  “All they could,” she admitted. “We’ll survive. But as I said, we have little to offer yer men for supper.”

  “Gahan.”

  Norris Sutherland was an important man, and the huge retainer who stepped out of the doorway was no doubt charged with his safety. She recalled him, and he nodded to her and then aimed his attention at his laird. Gahan was Norris’s half brother, born to his father’s mistress. He was Norris’s opposite, with dark hair and black eyes.

  “Select one of the rams and set it to roasting,” Norris instructed.

  Gahan tugged on the corner of his bonnet before leaving.

  “Ye’ll be compensated for the animal,” Norris informed her.

  “We do nae need—”

  “Yes ye do,” he interrupted her. “The crops are not going to yield ye much this season. Why are the sheep penned?”

  “Because me neighbor lured them away and set out feed to keep them on his land.” She hated how weak her reply sounded. “But I retrieved them, so there is naught to worry about. Tomorrow they will be sheared, and we’ll begin rebuilding. There is naught for ye to concern yerself with. Ye can be on yer way in the morning.”

  His lips rose, something glittering in his eyes. “Why, lass, I’ve only just arrived. What is yer reason to send me on me way at first light? It’s been so long since I saw ye last.”

  “It has been mere weeks.”

  Triumph gleamed in his eyes. “’Tis nice to know ye are counting the days we are separated.”

  “I’d be a fool to do so. Besides, I heard ye wed.”

  He stepped closer, crowding her. She shivered and lost her nerve, stepping aside rather than allowing him to loom over her. “The terrible truth of the matter is that me fair bride, Clarrisa, decided to do very much the same as ye did and lie with another man rather than consummate her vows. She’s wed to Broen MacNicols now.”

  She smiled, emotion taking control of her in a flash of white-hot happiness. But horror followed it, and she shook her head, trying to master her impulses.

  “Just how did yer bride elude ye in yer own castle?” she inquired suspiciously.

  Norris grinned, cocky and full of confidence. “I may have had a hand in making sure Broen could interrupt us. Be sporting enough to admit that was right kind of me, considering they were in love.”

  It had been, and for a moment, Daphne found herself liking Norris Sutherland a great deal more than she’d ever anticipated. The man could be compassionate.

  “Well, it matters naught. Yer father will likely be well on his way to selecting another bride for ye, and I do nae need any rumors linking us.”

  “I rather enjoy the memory of the facts linking us.” His voice had dipped low and deep, just as it had the night they…

  “Ye should nae voice such things,” she sputtered.

  He was amused by her, his eyes twinkling with pleasure. “And why nae? Ye enjoyed making those memories—a great deal.” Now there was a hint of pride in his tone.

  Daphne fought the urge to shiver. Emotion wanted to wash away her sense and leave her helpless in front of him.

  “Enough, Norris. The priest is already threatening to write to the bishop about me transgressions.” She bit her lip, stunned by how easily she was sharing personal information with him. “I have enough to worry about.”

  “I see…” he muttered in a tone she recalled instantly from their more intimate moments. “Ye mean the man is threatening to write about our transgressions, do ye nae, lass?”

  “No,” she snapped and sidestepped once more to avoid him. “Father Peter would never accuse ye.”

  He paused for a moment, his expression turning pensive. “In that case, the man is a hypocrite. I recall being deeply involved in your transgressions. In fact, I’m very tempted to add to the list. If the man is going to carry tales to his superior, I believe we should make sure he has something unique to report. I know a few positions he’s likely never heard of.”

  Her eyes widened. “Ye’re going to end up locked in the stocks for saying things such as that.”

  Norris grinned, flashing his teeth at her. He shook his head, irritating her. She couldn’t seem to shake the urge to argue with him. She stepped forward and pointed her finger at his wide chest.

  “Don’t think being the son of an earl will save you. The Church will no doubt double their efforts to make ye repent, so ye set a good example. Mind yer words, and do nae be grinning at me like that.”

  “I’m grinning because I assure ye, lass, if I get locked in the stocks for impious behavior, it will be for me actions, not just me words. Which means I would nae be alone.” He caught her up against him in a motion that was almost too fast to see. One moment she was pointing at him, and the next moment his arms bound her against him. She had only a moment to inhale the warm scent of his skin and notice just how solid his body was before his mouth claimed hers.

  His kiss was demanding. His lips pressed hers apart while he cupped her nape and angled her face upward for the assault. She struggled against him, trying to push him away, but he held her prisoner. It was a desperate attempt to maintain her sanity. A moment later, her discipline crumbled beneath the teasing motions of his lips. He wanted her mouth to open, and she had lost the will to deny him. What was worse was the fact that she wanted his kiss, needed it to be harder. She curled her hands into his doublet, holding him close as she kissed him back.

  The kiss changed instantly. He became more demanding, and it fanned the flames smoldering inside her. Passion leapt to life between them, as though they hadn’t parted for weeks. It twisted and bit into her, potent as a drug. But she wasn’t its only victim. Norris growled softly, the savage sound one she recalle
d from the darkest hours of the night they’d spent together. He trailed his lips along her jawline and onto her neck, where he bit her gently. She shivered, the reaction instant and uncontrollable. His grip held her in place as he raised his head and locked stares with her. For a moment, he let her see what the darkness had prevented her from gazing upon the night they shared his bed. Hunger glittered in his green eyes, making them glow. She was mesmerized by the sight, because it echoed her own longings so closely.

  “Since ye kissed me back so passionately, ye’ll be in the stocks beside me.”

  His words were bold. She tried to shove him away and would have bitten the beast if he hadn’t released her. Her skirt got caught beneath her feet, and she stumbled farther away.

  “Ye insufferable marauder.”

  He tipped his head back and roared with amusement. Her temper sizzled, turning her cheeks scarlet.

  “Take yer demands somewhere else, Norris Sutherland, for I do nae care whose son ye be or what title ye’re set to inherit.”

  He smirked at her, but it was a very personal expression, one that reminded her he knew her… intimately.

  “Since yer father is dead and yer brother has yet to arrive, ye’ll face me demands, Daphne MacLeod, as a vassal should. I’m here to see what condition yer land is in.” He closed the gap between them, gripping a handful of her skirt to keep her near so his last words could be shared only between them. “But if ye’d like me to run ye to ground, I will be happy to do so. So turn yer back on me, lass… I dare ye.”

  ***

  Insufferable brute. Dare her?

  How could he suggest such a thing?

  Daphne stormed into the storeroom and picked up a mortar. She used her frustration to grind the peppercorns into a fine dust. The grains tickled her nose, but she didn’t take any pleasure in the scent of the costly spice.

  Damn Norris for that, as well. She had precious few luxuries for her table. The man didn’t need to irritate her so much she failed to enjoy the ones she had.

  Gitta spoke softly. “It would help if ye softened yer heart.” Daphne turned on her with a whirl of her skirts but froze at the look on her old nurse’s face. There was the unmistakable sheen of desperation there.

  “He’s sought ye out, lass. Think before ye toss what fate offers ye out the window.”

  “To what end, Gitta? Father Peter is already threatening me with Church authority.”

  Her old nurse shook her head and grinned. “Ye are his vassal. ’Tis a tradition, which goes back to before the Church meddled so much in the doings of everyday life. Go to his bed, and yer child will bring us good fortune. Father Peter will baptize it sure enough, with the heir to the Earldom of Sutherland swearing it is his babe.”

  Gitta took the mortar from her and sniffed. “This will help light a fire in yer blood. I’ll help the cook make ye a fine rabbit pie to share with his lairdship.”

  “I doubt he is accustomed to eating something so common as rabbit.”

  Gitta raised a hopeful look toward her. “Ye’re right. I’ll have one of the ducks brought in.”

  “Ye will nae,” Daphne protested. “We need their eggs more than their meat, and we need every last one of them so there will be additions to the flock next year.”

  “But we must set a good supper for yer courtship. If Norris Sutherland is yer protector, he’ll ensure we all have more than enough. I hear the tables groan under the weight of the plenty set upon them on Sutherland land.”

  “We can nae trust in gossip. Everyone likes to tell tales of how easy life is elsewhere.”

  Gitta offered her a blunt look. “It is certainly nae so grim as it is here, and the labor ye’d have to shoulder as a leman would be pleasurable. Stop talking like a bride of Christ. I never raised ye to detest the very flesh ye are made of. I saw the blush staining yer cheeks after he greeted ye.”

  Daphne had to resist the urge to rub her face. Gitta’s gaze was too knowing for her comfort.

  “Ye raised me to be respectful to the Church.”

  Yet she’d already fallen from grace when it came to Norris…

  Something rippled down her spine that she refused to allow herself to acknowledge. She wouldn’t admit he made her quiver. “Ye’re a fine cook. He’ll sing yer praises, no doubt.”

  She choked back the rest of what she wanted to say, because it was surly, and she had enough sins to answer for.

  Like lusting after Norris Sutherland…

  ***

  “Ye must be getting old.”

  Norris eyed Gahan, and his captain chuckled at his sour humor. The remains of the duck sat in front of Norris, the scent of rosemary and pepper lingering. Daphne MacLeod had never joined him at the high table for the evening meal.

  “The fair lass did nae show a single one of those blond hairs tonight…” Gahan continued as he sat down and tore off a piece of remaining meat. “Ye must be getting old and ugly to prompt her to choose an empty belly over sharing supper with ye.”

  “Is that a fact?” Norris growled, balling his hand into a fist.

  Gahan only smirked at his threat before popping the meat into his mouth and humming with enjoyment. He smacked his lips and pointed at Norris. “Well now, I suppose it could be on account that ye failed to impress her when she was in yer bed, but I did nae want to be overly harsh when I’m merely speculating.”

  “That would be a mistake,” Norris retorted as he stood. He leaned over to make sure only Gahan heard him. “She was very well pleased, more than once.”

  “And still she is nae here when we’ve ridden so far to see her.”

  “Ye’re an arse,” Norris snarled.

  “Aye, but nae a blind one.”

  Norris straightened. “Possibly a dead one before dawn if ye do nae cease to badger me.”

  Gahan considered him for a moment then reached for another piece of the duck. He drew a bone slowly from his lips once he’d sucked the tender meat from it. “If ye’re staying here, do nae expect me to shine yer ego by ignoring the reason behind yer grumbling… Laird.”

  Norris stared at the look in his captain’s eyes and left. Gahan was bold, but it was the very same quality that made him such an indispensable man. When Gahan told him something, it was the truth. The man had no use for ego polishing, and he was making a point by needling him.

  He had come to see Daphne, and that was exactly what he was going to do.

  ***

  Her chamber was freezing.

  Daphne snorted and rubbed her hands together, reminding herself this was nothing to the misery they’d feel in a few months when winter arrived. Better to keep herself from being dramatic; reality would be harsh enough.

  Someone knocked on the door.

  “Come in.”

  She turned around and felt her belly twist when Norris appeared in the doorway.

  “No… ye stay out.” She covered her mouth but not quickly enough, because her voice was high and squeaky, betraying her turbulent emotions.

  “If ye are going to hide, the least I might do is chase ye to make it worth yer time.” The door shut behind him with a soft thud.

  “What audacity,” she accused. “I did nae invite ye to me chamber, ye rogue. Ye knew me reasons for allowing ye… intimacies with me.”

  “Ah, but I am more interested in learning why ye refused to share such a fine meal with me when I know ye will nae sup upon anything so grand again for a long time.”

  He took several more steps inside her chamber and planted his feet solidly. There was something in his eyes that looked like determination. Of course it was; the man was accustomed to getting everything he desired. Norris Sutherland was every inch a Highlander, from the bonnet on his head with its three feathers pointing upward to proclaim his rank to the edge of his pleated kilt where it brushed the
tops of his knees. He looked at her like he meant to have her.

  So dramatic again… he can have any lass he wishes. Do nae be vain.

  “Ye have no right to be cross, Laird Sutherland. Ye have been afforded the best we have.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I disagree, lass. Ye are the jewel in this keep.”

  She’d been complimented before, but a blush stung her cheeks. She rubbed at the heat, trying to rid herself of the odd reaction. “This beauty is a curse. It has brought naught but discontentment to everyone who admires it.”

  He moved closer, and she found herself mesmerized by his approach. She’d dreamed about him so often, it was like having her fantasy right before her. He reached out and stroked the scarlet surface of one cheek.

  “’Tis men who are cursed with the nature to want to own ye like some bit of finery.”

  For a moment, she was captivated. There was nothing wrong with his presence in her chamber or in the way his gaze settled upon her lips. The tender skin tingled, anticipating his kiss.

  Gitta’s words rose from her memory and collided with the harsh ones from Father Peter.

  She scooted back, her long smock fluttering and allowing the cold night air up her bare legs. “Enough, Norris. ’Twas me serving woman Gitta who prepared the duck for ye. She hoped I’d try to lure ye into me bed so I might have yer bastard and make ye responsible for our well-being.”

  He crossed his arms over his chest, clearly displeased. “Ye need a new waiting woman.”

  “Nae. ’Tis my fault she is so desperate. I am the one who refused the match me father made. So I’ll be the one thinking of a way to make sure everyone is fed.” She drew in a deep breath, trying to restore her confidence. “Now go. There will be no more kissing, because I do nae prostitute meself.”

  “Ye did nae mind the chore of losing yer maidenhead to me. In fact, I recall yer being very eager for our union.”

  Her jaw dropped open, shock striking her mute for a long moment. Flashes of memory from the night they shared went through her mind like lightning.

  “Ye’re too bold with yer tongue,” she muttered crossly.