The Laird's Bastard Daughter (The Highland Warlord Series Book 1)

by Tessa Murran

  She could not have kissed him back if she had wanted to, so shocked was she by such intimate contact, the first time anyone had touched her in years. As he pulled her tighter to him, his stiff manhood pressing into the softness of her belly, his mouth warm and smooth on hers, something flickered to life.

  For so long, her womanhood had been in slumber. Grief and mistreatment had worn it away until she had begun to believe she was hardly even a woman at all. She never expected to want a man to touch her ever again, but there was some kind of grudging admiration in the way Cormac looked at her, and there was definitely lust.

  If he wanted her, then it was a tool she could use to get her way. She would pretend he had won her over. So, instead of pushing him off, she surrendered to his kiss, and when he flicked his tongue into her mouth with shocking intimacy, she hesitantly returned the favour. He seemed to like it, for he pressed her closer and his mouth went down her jaw, under her ear and to her neck. ‘Take off your tunic, quickly,’ he growled against her skin.

  Ravenna loosened the red dress with shaking hands and let it fall so that she stood before Cormac in only her kirtle.

  ‘The rest, I need to see you.’

  Shivering, in spite of the fire, she pulled off her kirtle over her head and let it fall to the floor, feeling her hair kiss her nipples as it fell back down against her chest. Ravenna looked into her husband’s eyes, expecting contempt to sit there. Instead, he looked her up and down with a hard look, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

  ‘Please, you don’t have to do this. Can we not get to know each other a little first. Have pity.’

  Nothing. His eyes bored into her skin, making her shiver and cross her hands over her chest. She bit her lip hard and braced herself. Cormac came closer and gently took her hands away from her breasts, entwining his fingers with hers. He was so close, his breath on her face, his hair touching her forehead.

  ‘You look me in the eye and pretend you are not afraid and yet, when I touch you, Ravenna, I can feel you tremble.’

  ‘I am cold, that is all.’

  He reached down and took up her kirtle and handed it to her.

  ‘Then you’d best put this back on. I will give you one night’s grace, but tomorrow night, you will do as you are told. Don’t test my patience, for it would appear, against the odds and my better judgement, that I desire you. Perhaps that was your father’s design all along.’

  Ravenna quickly pulled on her kirtle, humiliation burning her cheeks. Cormac crossed to the other side of the bed, took off his braies and got in.

  ‘Surely you’re not going to sleep there?’ she said in horror.

  ‘This is my bed, and I sleep in it every night, with or without a Gowan. Get used to it.’

  ‘But how will I sleep if you are here?’

  He turned over and smirked. ‘Why, is your lust for me too great to control, Ravenna?’

  ‘No, I just can’t bear the thought of you touching me when I am asleep.’

  ‘I’ll touch you when I am good and ready, but not tonight, you have my word. Now, best stop your chatter and get some sleep.’

  Ravenna climbed slowly into bed and lay down at its edge, as far away from Cormac as possible., Eventually, her thumping heart slowed, and her eyelids grew heavy. If he did touch her in the night, she was just too tired to care, and some small, treacherous part of her might just want him to.

  Chapter Six

  Ravenna slept soundly and, when she woke the next morning, the other side of the bed was empty. So, despite being in a strange place, with a man who had openly said he wanted her, she had somehow managed to feel safe enough to give in to her exhaustion. That surprised her, and it was all foolishness. She had trusted Cormac to be true to his word that she would have one night’s grace from his consummating their marriage. Trust would get her nowhere with a Buchanan, she had to be stronger than that, and keep her guard up.

  No one came to wake her, so she got up and walked about the chamber, taking in her surroundings. The room was simple, orderly and cosy, getting plenty of warmth from the large fireplace. Someone must have tip-toed in and built up the fire while she slept, for it was roaring. It was a small kindness, and she wondered if Cormac had ordered it.

  Ravenna opened the heavy shutters and looked out down the valley. Clouds blew across the sky in a keen wind, but it was otherwise a clear day. Now it was time to get acquainted with Beharra.

  ***

  Ravenna spent a busy morning walking all around the castle. First, to the kitchen, which was small and dark, where she ate some bannocks and forced down some more awful ale. The cook eyed her with suspicion, but treated her respectfully, and showed her the stores and then out to the outhouse, where the ale was brewed. Next, she set some servants to sweeping out the old rushes and debris from the hall, and some others to lay fresh ones. They muttered and grumbled but did as she bid. It took most of the morning, as they had to be supervised and, just as she finished, Fearghas barged in and looked around him. He sniffed the now-fragrant air like a dog, and simply nodded his approval, before turning and leaving without a word.

  By midday, Ravenna was worn out, and so she headed outside, intending to walk to the stone bridge she had seen on the way in. At Beharra’s gates, Ramsay shouted at her from across the yard.

  ‘My Lord has forbidden you to go outside the walls. He wants you kept close to the castle.’

  ‘I don’t take orders from the likes of you.’

  ‘If you defy him, it will not end well for you, so, by all means, off you go.’ He walked off, smirking.

  Ravenna slumped against the gate, looking out at the bridge below, and freedom. She spotted an eagle, circling high above the wind-scoured hills at the edge of the valley. What pleasure she would take in just flying away from this awful place and these dreadful people. Beharra was in some ways a magnificent place after the convent, but its vastness made a body feel insignificant and utterly lonely. It fell on her with a crushing misery, she was alone in the world, with not one single person who cared for her. She thought of Beigis, back at Mauldsmyre, with babies and a husband and a life going forward, and here she was, alone in a house full of enemies, at the mercy of a ruthless, brute of a man whose secrets she was supposed to steal. She was caught between two worlds, belonging to neither.

  To hell with all of them.

  With rebellion in her heart, Ravenna set off quickly for the bridge. When she got to it, she stood in full view of Beharra and dared them to come and get her. No one seemed to notice, so she spent some time just staring at the grey water gushing underneath.

  Suddenly a head appeared at the other side of the bridge and then bobbed back down again. Ravenna waited and then it appeared again, two bright eyes visible this time, and a knot of dark hair.

  ‘Why don’t you stand up, so I may see you better?’ she shouted.

  The young girl stood up fully and gave her a bold look, coming around the side of the wall, brushing streaks of green moss from her dress, though it made little difference, for it was very dirty, as was the rest of her.

  She was dark-haired and thin, gangly arms and legs, her dress hung on her slight frame. But her eyes drew you in, a soft brown, and her face bore a curious expression.

  ‘Are you Ravenna?’ she said.

  ‘I am.’

  ‘I’m Morna, Cormac’s sister.’

  ‘I am pleased to know you,’ replied Ravenna.

  ‘You Gowans murdered my brother, Darrow.’

  ‘Not this Gowan,’ replied Ravenna, bracing for trouble. ‘My father has had me locked away in a convent for years.’

  ‘Oh,’ the girl replied, regarded her steadily.

  ‘I am sorry about your brother. It is the first I have heard of it.’

  ‘They cut him down, three winters ago. He was only sixteen.’

  ‘Then I am sorry for it, Morna, truly I am.’

  The girl frowned. ‘I’ve been told to stay well clear of you,’ she said, narrowing her eyes.

  �
��I don’t doubt it. Who told you that?’

  ‘Cormac, and my father too, but I don’t always do as I am told,’ she said, as if that were a very special thing indeed.

  ‘I am glad to hear it.’

  Morna came closer, trailing her hand along the wet top of the bridge. Up close Ravenna could see that she was very bonnie indeed.

  ‘Would you like to walk up the hill?’ said Morna. ‘There is a fine view down the valley, you can see all of Beharra and the mountains beyond.’

  ‘I cannot. I am not supposed to go outside the walls. Your brother has forbidden it.’

  ‘Do you always do as you are told?’ she asked, head tilted to one side and a mischievous grin on her face.

  ‘Certainly not,’ said Ravenna.

  ‘Come on then, if we go this way we can stay out of sight. I will show you.’ With that, she set off, turning to make sure Ravenna was following on.

  Morna set a blistering pace through the mud and undergrowth, following a ragged path through the trees towards a high hill, some distance off. She did not seem to need to speak at first and skipped ahead in her haste. The hill was steep and, by the time they were halfway up, Ravenna was panting.

  ‘Your father was right,’ she said.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Your father said I looked pale and that I needed to eat to build my strength up. I am finding this hill a chore. Maybe I should get more fresh air and exercise.’

  ‘Yes, and I can show you all the best places around Beharra.’

  ‘Are there any more of you?’ panted Ravenna. ‘What I mean is, does Cormac have any other brothers and sisters?’

  ‘No, it’s just me, oh, and Lyall, so I am glad another woman has come to keep me company.’ Morna blushed and looked at the ground. ‘Only if you care to, that is.’

  Ravenna smiled back at her. She had appeared sure of herself, this young woman, but maybe she wasn’t. Morna Buchanan seemed to be possessed of all the enthusiasm of youth together with all the uncertainty.

  ‘There is a wonderful view of the valley from the top. I promise it is worth it if we keep going.’

  ‘Alright, but can we go a bit slower?’

  ‘If you like. How old are you Ravenna?’

  ‘Twenty.’

  ‘That’s quite old to be only just married.’ Morna bit her lip and frowned. ‘I am fifteen. I can show you how to make a crown out of buttercups if you like. Do you like my tunic, I embroidered it myself.’

  ‘It’s lovely.’

  ‘Do you miss your family? How terrible it must be to be taken from them and go to strangers? I should hate that.’

  Morna rattled on. She was desperate to talk about herself, and Ravenna got the impression that she was a lonely, little thing. Pretty and fey, eager to please and make a good impression, there was also a delicacy and softness about her demeanour that was completely at odds with her brother’s. How could they possibly be of the same blood?

  When they reached the top of the hill, Ravenna looked out in awe. The view down the glen was spectacular, the river, grey and curling, squeezing through the vast mountains towering either side of it. Brown bracken, dead from winter’s frost, carpeted the lower slopes, but up above, where the air was chill, and the wind scoured the peaks, all was barren and desolate. It was beautiful, but wild and dangerous country to travel alone. Ravenna wondered if somewhere down that valley, her father’s man watched and waited for his chance to make contact with her. It was probably too soon. She would be expected to win over Cormac’s family first, make them comfortable with her, so they let their guard down.

  Morna plopped down onto the grass, still chattering while plucking the first brave buttercups of spring. In no time at all, they had a pile of little flowers on their laps, and Ravenna concentrated hard on making holes in the stems and feeding them into each other, in a string of gold. Surprisingly, she was enjoying Morna’s company.

  Cormac’s sister had no guile to her. She was open and friendly and trusting. Ravenna smiled to herself. She doubted she had ever been as young as Morna, she hadn’t been given the chance. Even from the earliest age, she had developed a thick skin, learning to lie and hide, in order to thrive in a place where she was beneath people’s notice or the object of their disdain. In terms of hardship and loss, she was ten times older than Morna and, even now, as a grown woman and married, she was still expected to lie and cheat. When she looked at the young girl before her, she felt like an old crone.

  ‘You’re so pretty, Ravenna,’ said Morna shyly. ‘I should never look as lovely as you.’

  Morna’s words brought her out of her reverie.

  ‘Don’t be silly, you are still growing. One day soon, you will come into your bloom, and all the men for miles around will stop and stare when you pass. They will be your slaves.’

  Morna looked at the flowers in her hand. ‘You are teasing me.’

  ‘No, I am in earnest. You will be lovely one day, and in fact, you are quite lovely now.’

  ‘Ravenna, forgive me for asking, but why can’t you go outside Beharra?’

  ‘I think your brother is worried I might run away.’

  ‘Are you not happy with Cormac?’

  ‘What?’ A light drizzle had started to fall around them, making Ravenna shiver.

  ‘Forgive me, but when I first saw you today, you looked sad. Is he not kind to you?’

  There was no point in hurting Morna with the truth of it. ‘He is a fine husband, it’s just a big change to be married, that’s all. It’s only been a few days, and I will have to get used to it.’ How easily the lies came. It was the one thing she was good at.

  ‘Is it horrible to share a man’s bed, if you know what I mean?’

  ‘What kind of question is that?’

  ‘Forgive me…it’s just I have no one to ask and…well…I am to be betrothed soon, and I thought you might be able to tell me what to expect. My mother died soon after Darrow and …’

  ‘Oh Morna, it’s not right for me to talk about Cormac like that.’ Ravenna frowned. ‘Don’t you have friends you can talk to?’

  ‘Not about that, and none of them are married. I can’t ask the servants - that would shame me. But you, well, you being newly married and all, you will know exactly how it feels and what I should do to please my husband when we are wed.’

  What on earth was she to say? I haven’t consummated my marriage and pray to God I don’t have to. My husband detests me and does not want me. I am a bastard whose virginity is long gone. If I were you, I would avoid marriage as long as possible, and to please a man, all you have to do is make yourself his slave and have no will of your own. How could she possibly tell sweet, innocent, Morna all that?

  ‘Who are you betrothed to?’ she said instead.

  ‘I don’t know, but Father has been talking about it with Cormac, and he says it will be soon.’

  ‘I’m sure he will be a fine, honourable man, Morna.’

  ‘Not so grim as my brother, perhaps.’

  Ravenna locked eyes with Morna and a kind of understanding passed between them. Perhaps Morna wasn’t as guileless as she seemed. Ravenna had a feeling that Morna wanted more than just reassurance from another woman about her betrothal. She also wanted to plead Cormac’s case with this his new wife.

  Morna got to her feet. ‘I know Cormac can be difficult. He likes his own way, and he is very stubborn. Father says he has a dark soul, with a bit of the devil dancing in it. But he can also be kind, and brave and he’s always gentle with me. He just doesn’t like showing it is all.’

  ‘I confess I have not seen that side of him, the gentleness.’

  ‘He hasn’t shown it much since Alain died.’

  ‘Alain?’

  ‘Aye, his first wife, she died last year. Since her passing Cormac has become harder somehow.’

  Ravenna was shocked by this revelation, but she did not show it. ‘I suppose he must have loved her very much.’

  Morna looked away, out at the moors. ‘We should get bac
k to Beharra, for this drizzle will be a flood in no time.’

  She took Ravenna’s hand to help her to her feet. Morna’s fingers were cold and so slender. She’s so much younger than me at that age, thought Ravenna, still a child, and yet Cormac would sell her in marriage. She felt a strange urge to protect her. But that would cost her dear, for Morna’s brother did not like being defied, and this young girl was not hers to protect.

  Chapter Seven

  Cormac watched his sister walk back into Beharra, hand in hand with Ravenna. They were laughing and smiling, Ravenna so pretty, almost soft-looking, with a crown of yellow flowers in her hair and a flush to her cheeks. He hated to admit it, but he wanted her, something he had not expected, something that irked him.

  His sister and his wife should have been a welcome sight, but anger tightened his chest. Ravenna was not trustworthy, that much he knew, and his sister would not be able to see it. His bride had also made it clear she neither wanted nor liked him, and yet with his sister, she was already pretending to be affectionate.

  When they walked through the gates, he stepped out in front of them.

  ‘Where have you been, you two? Ravenna, I gave orders for you not to leave the keep.’ He tried to keep his voice even.

  ‘Don’t be angry, Cormac, it’s not Ravenna’s fault,’ said Morna brightly.

  So already Morna was defending Ravenna, but that was Morna all over, trusting and kind.

  ‘I asked Ravenna to walk with me so I could get to know her better.’

  ‘Well, you should not have. Now go inside, Morna and tidy yourself, and come directly to the hall. We have a visitor come to sup with us, and we must be hospitable.’

  Morna ran off, with a last smile at Ravenna.

  ‘I told you not to leave the keep,’ said Cormac.

  ‘It was just a walk. Did you think I’d run away?’ she sneered.

  ‘You’ve nowhere to run to so, no, but I told you last night I expect you to follow my orders, all of them.’

  There was no fear on Ravenna’s face, only angry defiance. Her hands went to her hips, and her grey eyes narrowed.

  ‘I’ll not take orders from the likes of you.’