Possession of a Highlander

by Madeline Martin

  Chapter Three

  “I dinna mean to frighten ye.” Though he kept his voice soft when he spoke, it did not ease the wide-eyed stare from her face.

  “You tell me my life is in danger, and then you say you didn’t mean to frighten me?” Her words pitched high at the end of her question.

  He took a step toward her and tried to ignore the way her body flinched before going stiff-still once more. “The men who attacked your Captain of the Guard may come back to ensure he is dead. I’ve seen it before.”

  Especially men like those who assaulted the old man, but Colin tempered his tongue. Such information was meant for the ears of men, not the fairer sex.

  Brianna’s chin rose a notch. “I am not unprotected.”

  Alec snorted beside him. Her gaze shot to him before settling on Colin once more, her eyes bright with indignation.

  Colin frowned. “While we waited, I glanced at yer castle entrance and saw but one guard. If the band of men who attacked yer Captain of the Guard come here, they would be inside yer walls within moments.”

  Her gaze slid toward the entrance of the castle. “One guard?”

  Colin nodded slowly. “Aye, my lady. If ye allow us to stay tonight, we will keep watch to ensure ye’re safe.”

  She lowered her head, and her fingertips rested on the center of her brow. “Very well.” She looked up. “You may stay, but only until morning.” The delicate muscles of her neck tightened. “However, you will not be permitted in the main part of the castle. Those doors will be locked.”

  Ah, the famed Lowland hospitality. Though perhaps the lass was not as naïve as she appeared if she exacted such caution with strange men. “Of course, my lady. We will leave after we help ye find a suitable replacement for yer Captain of the Guard.”

  Her smile was brittle. “That will not be necessary.”

  “It is more necessary than ye realize.”

  Her suspicious glare turned frosty. “I am perfectly capable of selecting my own Captain of the Guard.”

  He closed the distance between them with one step, but this time she did not back away. This time her head lifted in challenge.

  “Do ye know when a man is brave?” he asked. “When he willna run, when he will stay and fight?”

  “I know of bravery.” She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, that indignant look flashing in her large brown eyes once more.

  “Bravery off the battlefield is easily feigned. Ye want a man whose eyes glint with power, whose confident words are backed by confident actions, one who will be looked up to by other men. One whose body bears the scars of battle.” Her fair skin appeared flawless in the bright sunlight. Smooth and creamy beneath the smears of dirt, unscathed by the foul effects of war.

  He lowered his voice. “Do ye know a man so intimately that ye can detect how brave he truly is?”

  She drew a sharp breath and her eyebrows furrowed. “How dare you ask such a question?”

  He held his position and reveled in the clean lavender scent wafting from her glossy hair. It’d been too long since he’d smelled anything but sweat and dirt. “I ask only what ye should know if ye intend to select yer own Captain of the Guard, aye?”

  A bonny flush colored her cheeks.

  “Or ye can at least accept my advice tomorrow morning before we leave.” He eased back and left her to make her own decision. He’d made his point.

  Her lips pursed and lent her young face a shrewd appearance. “I will allow you to offer your advice.”

  He truly did not wish to leave her unprotected. He’d been entirely honest about that. The few guards Colin had seen would easily prove the need for his continued presence within Edzell.

  He glanced at Lady Lindsay’s clenched jaw.

  First though, he would have to convince her.

  • • •

  Brianna’s shoes rang sharp against the stone floor of the hall, a harsh accompaniment to the steady swish of her fine skirts. She’d worn her blue silk gown with the silver buttons and delicately embroidered sleeves. Yesterday she’d appeared before the Highlanders as a servant. Today she would leave no question in their minds that she was lady of the castle.

  She paused before the main door and pulled the heavy iron key from her pocket. They would be waiting on the other side. Her hand skimmed the slick fabric of her left pocket, fingering the comforting shape of her dagger. In case they decided to do more than assist in the selection of the next Captain of the Guard.

  Not that she intended to listen to their opinions, regardless. She would placate them by feigning interest in their choice, and then they would leave.

  Finally.

  There were too many questions she could not answer and too many secrets that could be unearthed, especially by men she did not trust.

  The key slid into the greased lock with ease. She paused and mentally combed through plausible questions they might ask, filtering through her own plausible answers. One loose reply and the truth of the earl’s hidden death and her illegitimacy could come unraveled.

  Bernard’s signature on the letter to Parliament was supposed to secure her legitimacy and tie Edzell to her forever. Her throat tightened at the thought of the old man.

  Bernard.

  The stress of her situation gave way to a peel of hurt. He had been so battered, so wounded before his death.

  He’d died trying to help her.

  She turned her head to the side, but the physical movement could not knock the painful thought from her mind. She could not dwell on such things. Not when there were other matters to think on. Like what she could use to prove herself the rightful heir to the Lindsay estate. She had pored over the earl’s documents through the night and into the gentle grays of morning. Her efforts had been in vain. Not one document mentioned her as his daughter.

  An old wound that would never cease to sting.

  The key twisted easily until she heard the subtle click of the lock giving way. She pushed through the door and stepped from the shadows of the heavy stone walls into the blinding morning sunlight, a radiance grating to her dark mood.

  Her unwelcome guests leaned against the shaded wall of the castle with an ease that rattled her all the more. Resentment flared through her. She would have preferred Bernard’s replacement wait until he was at least buried.

  The dark-haired Highlander watched her cross the courtyard, his gaze steady, his face unreadable. The other man, the one who had spoken to her yesterday, nodded in greeting and gave her a grin so wide she had to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

  “I dinna expect ye so early, Lady Lindsay,” he said.

  She surveyed the empty courtyard, and her back straightened with awareness. Other guards should be present. “Nor did I expect you to be so full of compliments so early,” she said with a smile. It was meant to remind him of his place, to check his carefree humor.

  “Ach, if I were complimenting ye, ye’d know.” He winked at her, completely nonplussed.

  Did he think he was being charming?

  Impatience nibbled at her fortitude.

  “Before we begin,” he said. “I’d like to give ye my suggestions on yer next Captain of the Guard.”

  “Oh?” Another sweeping glance confirmed they were the only people in the courtyard. The weight of the dagger along her thigh offered security where her own men failed. “You know my men well enough to select the one best suited for the position?”

  “Aye, I do.” An arrogant smile lifted his lips. “Me.”

  Brianna’s eyebrows raised at his audacity. “You?”

  “Aye. Let me be yer Captain of the Guard. Alec will, of course, stay on to help me as well.”

  The linen of his leine was made of exceptional quality. Expensive, like the sword on his back. “You don’t need the funds. Why do you seek this position?”

  His gaze met hers, soft and coaxing. “Sometimes there is more to life than coin,” he said in his gentle burr.

  She narrowed her eyes in an effort to further shield
herself from him. “What do you imply?”

  “I mean that sometimes a wandering warrior longs for a place to call home, and Edzell Castle is verra lovely.” The heat of his stare remained fixed on her face. “Sometimes a man canna turn away from the lure of beauty.”

  • • •

  Colin’s true meaning was not lost on Brianna, based on the nervous press of her tongue between her full lips. She understood his words whether she cared to admit it or not. “What qualifies you to be my Captain of the Guard?”

  “I was under the lead of Keiran MacDonald for the last five years and saw much war and fighting.”

  Not that Colin’s father had been impressed.

  She tilted her head in a way that demonstrated her thinning patience. “Of course you saw much war and fighting. He is, after all, a MacDonald.”

  If she was trying to get a rise out of him, she would be disappointed. “All the better to keep me on yer side,” Colin said with a good-natured wink. “If ye dinna believe me, put me against five of yer best guards and ye’ll see for yerself.”

  “Five?” Her eyebrow arched in disbelief.

  “Aye, ye’re right,” he conceded. “Ye better make it ten.”

  The corner of her mouth tightened. “Are you trying to impress me?”

  Colin laughed, knowing his mirth would goad her further. “Dinna act as though ye dinna want to see it.”

  “Actually, I think I do.” A slow, cunning smile slid over her lips. “I’ll have my ten best guards assembled for you to fight. If you lose, you will be removed from my lands, never to return.”

  He shrugged off the sheathed blade he wore strapped to his back and reached for one of Edzell’s unmarked practice swords. “Dinna worry.” He swung the dulled weapon. “I never disappoint.”

  Certainly not when so much balanced on his victory.

  Chapter Four

  Assembling the guards had taken as long as Colin had anticipated, and longer than Brianna had expected, if her red cheeks were any indication.

  Her ten best soldiers surrounded him, their expressions glowing with unwarranted confidence. Too late would they realize what a mistake that was.

  Colin focused on his surroundings, marking the direction the gentle breeze shifted, his feet easily adjusting to the subtle swells and dips of the cobblestones beneath him. The borrowed practice blade in his hand was slightly off-balance. He would compensate for that with his swing.

  His prize stood tersely to the side of the courtyard. She pinched her lower lip between anxious fingers, all pretense of nonchalance abandoned. Her gaze was sharp like a hawk seeking prey, seeking any show of weakness.

  Colin was confident she would find none.

  There was no discussion among the men to plan an attack. Instead, the first man lunged, young and overeager to prove himself, based on the wild swipe of his sword. He was careless and left his abdomen exposed when he raised his blade for a blow that would never land.

  Colin stepped into the attack and ducked low. The blunted edge of his practice sword caught the lad in the stomach, knocking the wind from him. Had the battle been real, Colin’s opponent would have paid for the error with his life.

  Another man darted from the group and charged with the Lindsay roar in his throat. His sweat tinged the air with a musky scent. The sharp clang of their blades clashing split the air and tingled deep within Colin’s ears. Three additional guards leapt into the fray.

  Finally, a semblance of a team.

  Colin’s arms burned with the surge of a challenge. His vision sharpened, his senses in tune with every action each man made.

  The battle was about to get fun.

  Of the remaining five men not engaged in battle, one in particular, the one with white-blond hair, watched Colin’s movements with a calculated intent. Perhaps there was a worthy opponent among Edzell’s soldiers after all.

  Colin dispatched the four men with ease, and another four took their place. Each jab and thrust of their dull blades was done without finesse. Brute force powered their moves—and poorly.

  Their labored breathing suggested a lack of regular exercise. Colin would see that oversight corrected.

  The glare of the sun shone down upon him, but he did not feel its heat against his back, nor was he blinded by its glint. He was a warrior, a man trained to block out the elements and focus on his opponent. Something these men would learn in good time.

  One of the guards ran haphazardly toward him, face flushed and arms lax with exhaustion. Colin almost felt bad about knocking him from the fight. He caught the man’s foot with his boot and sent him sprawling toward the dark cobblestones. Colin drew the flat of his blade across the man’s slick neck, implying death.

  Training was difficult. Colin knew all too well exactly how difficult. He also knew the importance of weapons mastery, and how many times such knowledge had saved his life.

  A sharp thrust of his blade behind him caught another guard in the gut and left the man grunting in pain before walking the same defeated path as his comrades. The two remaining men lunged at Colin together, and together they were defeated with the same swipe of Colin’s blade.

  Only the blond man remained. He did not charge as the others, but calmly approached and lifted his sword between them with measured composure. The silent challenge grew tense in the still air.

  He feinted left and thrust to the right with a grace even Colin could not teach. Colin parried the blow and whipped his blade toward the man, only to have the attack stopped with a well-executed block. There was confidence behind his opponent’s moves, a natural skill.

  Colin was tempted to let the fight go on longer than necessary, but there would be ample time to spar with the man in the future. Instead, Colin swung his blade toward him, stopping just before the steel connected with his opponent’s neck.

  Surprise flickered in the man’s dark eyes. Before hard feelings could set, Colin clasped his arm in a solid grip. “Ye did verra well, lad.”

  The guard gave a single nod before turning to join the rest of the bested soldiers.

  Colin set the borrowed practice sword in the pile he’d drawn it from. Taking on ten men was no easy feat, yet this battle had taken mere minutes. He hadn’t even begun to sweat.

  Brianna’s men were out of shape and lacked proper training. Edzell was weak. That would all change when he became Captain of the Guard.

  The same raw stare that had lingered on him as he fought now burned into his back. The lass was fascinated by him. He planned to wield that fascination to his advantage.

  After all, he knew women well. Every soft, supple curve of their bodies, every sensitive bud and inviting valley. He knew when to stroke, when to tease, when to taste.

  Aye, he knew women very well.

  Brianna Lindsay would be no different. She may be naïve and innocent, but she was ready to fall in love.

  What woman was not?

  All would come with time, and Colin was a patient man. For now, he was satisfied with collecting his winnings.

  • • •

  A merciful breeze blew through the courtyard and fluttered the skirt of Brianna’s light silk gown. Her men sagged in the shade of the chapel, their faces red and sweaty from their efforts. The Highlander turned toward her. His arms were crossed over his chest and a smile hovered on his lips.

  “Well?” he inquired in a low voice. “Did I impress ye?”

  Brianna nipped the tip of her tongue. He had just taken down her best men with hardly any effort. Did he not understand the insult of his actions? His rapid victory had shown how poorly trained her men were, how poorly she managed her estate to leave it so ineffectively protected. His conquest wasn’t a victory to be commended—it was a slap.

  Unfortunately, the speed with which he defeated her men proved his instruction necessary. Brianna knew enough about fighting and warfare to understand the Highlander’s skills of fluid motions and lethal accuracy.

  He stood at least one head taller than any of her men, his he
ight and strength carried with relaxed ease. His leine fell open at the neck during the mock battle, and she could glimpse the smooth muscular flesh beneath—if she wanted to.

  He uncrossed his arms and hung his thumbs from the sides of his belt. “Six months with me and ye wouldna see yer men so easily defeated.”

  The weight of the sun’s heat was almost as unbearable as the unpalatable decision that lay before her. She scanned his well-made clothing in a most obvious manner. “I still don’t understand why you are so insistent on taking Bernard’s position when you so obviously do not need the funds.”

  That carefree smile touched his face again. “I told ye, lass, I gave my word to your servant that I would see ye safe. I dinna take my promises to the dying lightly, aye?”

  She eyed him, taking in his earnest expression and stubborn wide-legged stance that declared he wouldn’t give up. Part of her wished he would, yet the pragmatic part of her realized the importance of his presence, of his tutelage.

  But there was another reason he wanted to stay on. Perhaps he was out of money to buy such fine things, perhaps he had nowhere to go. Perhaps there was a far more sinister reason.

  Whatever it was, she would unveil the truth. In the meantime, she would take advantage of his offer to strengthen her guards.

  “Very well,” she said decisively. “You have six months. I’ll have someone bring you to my solar after supper, and we’ll arrange the details of your stay.” She turned her head toward the dark-haired Highlander. “If you’re half as good as your companion, I’ll ensure you have a room and pay as well.”

  The man regarded her with icy blue eyes and gave a sound akin to a grunt. She paused, debating if he indicated agreement or not.

  The Highlander with the reddish-brown hair gave her a broad grin, displaying a flash of white, straight teeth. “I’m grateful for the opportunity.”

  She averted her gaze, unsure of what to say, and turned toward the castle, eager to leave the overwhelming presence of the man and his rude companion. There was much to secure in preparation for the men’s stay, and it had little to do with their quarters. Avoiding the uncouth Highlanders for six months would be possible, but keeping them from asking questions could prove difficult.