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

by Tessa Murran

  Cormac grabbed her arm a little too hard. ‘The likes of me is it? Hate me all you will, but stay away from my sister, Ravenna.’

  ‘I was just trying to make friends.’

  ‘She doesn’t need friends like you.’

  ‘She’s lonely, Cormac.’

  ‘What do you know of her?’

  ‘I know enough about loneliness to recognise it.’

  ‘Don’t interfere in my affairs, know your place. Never defy me and don’t go outside again.’

  ‘Am I a prisoner now?’ she snapped.

  ‘As my wife, you are whatever I want you to be.’

  ‘Wife you say. This is no kind of marriage, it is the mere whim of a King.’

  ‘Do you know the King, Ravenna?’ snarled Cormac, losing his temper at her insolence.

  ‘No, I haven’t met him and…’

  ‘Well I do, and he has no illusions about this union bringing unity to our clans, he knows full well we will all carry on hating each other.’

  Ravenna tried to prise free his fingers from her arm.

  Cormac felt his anger and lust rise as one, as he put his face into hers. ‘Do you know what our wedding was Ravenna? It’s not about happiness, or healing rifts, or the future of Scotland, or unity. No, I have been ordered to fall in line, just like everyone else, just to survive. Do you know how angry that makes me after years of fighting and bleeding for the Bruce?’

  ‘But the King has to unite the clans before the English come.’

  ‘No, our wedding was a test of blind obedience and nothing more. If you can’t see that, you are a fool.’

  Ravenna wriggled free from his grasp and stormed away, tearing the flowers from her hair and throwing them aside.

  Cormac watched her go. He desired her, he didn’t want to, and he didn’t like that he did. He struggled with the urge to follow his wife inside, drag her into his bed, spread her out under him and teach her who was master at Beharra. He was damn sure she would hate him for it to the end of her days. So, what was he to do?

  He waited until his anger had calmed, and then he stooped and picked the flowers up out of the mud. He looked at them, wilting in his hand. There was something wounded about Ravenna, and he suspected her defiance was more defence than attack. For an instant, some small part of him almost pitied her. If only she weren’t a Gowan.

  ***

  Ravenna entered the hall just as the day gave up its last ray of light. Still angry from their encounter earlier, she dreaded having to sit and eat with Cormac, much less share his bed. He had said one day’s grace. Well, that was used up. Would he make good on his threat? Whatever happened to her this night, she would bear it, as she always had, then plot a way to fight back.

  She squared her shoulders and entered with her head held high and then stopped. Fearghas and Lyall were nowhere to be seen, and Cormac stood before the fireplace with Morna, along with a stranger. The man was well dressed and tall, with a thin face and red hair. He was smiling benignly down at Morna. She stood stiffly beside him, obviously shy at playing the lady of the house.

  Cormac caught sight of Ravenna in the shadows and beckoned her over to him.

  ‘Ravenna, this is Alisdair Colquhoun, an ally of mine and son of one of my father’s oldest friends.’ His voice was cold and authoritative. Cormac nodded in her direction. ‘My wife, Ravenna Buchanan.’

  ‘An honour,’ smiled Alisdair, taking her hand and kissing it in the courteous manner of a French nobleman. His courtesy seemed at odds with his surroundings and the tension in the room.

  ‘Come to heal the breach between the Buchanans and the Gowans are you, Lady? I applaud your bravery.’ He had a twinkle in his eye, and his smile seemed sincere, but Ravenna felt on edge as he continued to look boldly at her. He was judging her in some way, and his interest went beyond that of a courteous introduction.

  Supper was brought in just then, and Fearghas and Lyall arrived, and they all sat down to eat, Alisdair seating himself next to her. Cormac’s father looked deathly pale, and his hand shook as he tore meat off a chicken carcass. Ravenna was torn away from staring at him by Alisdair, who began asking her endless questions. How did she find Beharra, did she get a chance to ride out as the country was beautiful around the castle, had she followed the river down the glen to the falls yet? What did she think of her new husband? Was he not a fine man, did he not keep a fine home?

  His face was very close to hers, and it was discomfiting. Fine though it was, to Ravenna his eyes seemed a little too close together and his face pinched and a little harsh. He was unremarkable to look at. When she glanced over at Cormac, deep in conversation with Lyall at the other end of the table, she could suddenly appreciate what a fine-looking man her husband was. Everything about him screamed strength and raw masculinity and made him infinitely more attractive than Alisdair, who she guessed was about the same age. Looks aside though, Alisdair, with his elegant manners and eagerness to ingratiate himself, would be far easier to handle than Cormac.

  Ravenna noticed that Morna said nothing, sitting pale-faced and almost stricken on the other side of him.

  ‘I sincerely hope to know you better, Lady Buchanan, once I am part of the family as it were.’

  Ravenna frowned.

  ‘Oh, did Cormac not tell you? I have the honour of being betrothed to Morna, so I will be visiting often, until she is old enough to be my wife. But that will be soon, I hope.’ He turned and patted Morna’s hand, and she withdrew it. Alisdair did not seem to notice and turned immediately back to his conversation with her.

  They seemed to sit there for an age, but eventually, the men withdrew to the warmth of the fireplace. Ravenna took Morna’s hand in hers. She got a look from Cormac for her trouble but ignored it.

  ‘What is wrong, Morna? You’ve hardly said a word.’

  ‘I…I don’t like him...Alisdair.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’

  ‘He is not awful, but he is not what I expected. He is so old.’

  ‘Most men are older than their wives, Morna. They have to earn a wife by proving themselves worthy and making their wealth. That means they have more of a life lived, that is all. He does not seem unkind, and he is quite smitten with you.’

  ‘I cannot imagine being with that man, Ravenna.’

  ‘Morna.’ Cormac was suddenly beside them. ‘It is late, go on to bed now.’

  Ravenna squirmed under Cormac’s steady gaze.

  Alisdair smiled over at Morna as she left the room with undisguised delight on his face. Clearly, the match was a welcome one for him, and yet his eyes flicked constantly to her. He had been doing that all evening, staring, and it was stretching her nerves to breaking point.

  Ravenna pitied Morna her distress, but she was no better off. There was something in that look of Cormac’s that made her feel as though all her clothes had melted off her body. There was an urge to run from him, but there was something else as well. No man had ever looked at her like that, and it brought forth a kind of excitement that she didn’t quite understand.

  ‘You too, off to bed, and wait for me, Ravenna,’ he said, in his cold voice.

  It would be tonight, she was sure of it.

  ‘I must say goodnight to your good lady,’ exclaimed Alisdair and, as Cormac stalked back to the fireplace, he came over and took her hands in his.

  ‘I wish you goodnight, Ravenna.’ He leant over, his voice becoming a whisper. ‘I cannot risk talking to you for too long, or your brute of a husband may get jealous and run me through. Your father sends his love. I will come again soon, and I trust, by then, you will have secrets to tell.’

  Chapter Eight

  Ravenna paced up and down in the chamber at the point of tears. So Alisdair was the one, the serpent in their bosom. Somehow, her father had managed to turn one of the Buchanan’s oldest allies against them and, worse than this, Morna was to be given to him. He had probably been promised not only her hand but a portion of the Buchanan’s land and wealth after they had been destroyed. He
was killing them from the inside out, and there was nothing she could do about it. But then, wasn’t that her purpose in being here too?

  Alisdair was sly and disloyal. What sort of life would Morna have with a man who would destroy everything she loved? Ravenna had always thought she had a shrivelled heart, that it had died a long time ago, out on that moor with Brandan, but now, it ached just a little for a young girl who would be torn apart by men’s feuding. Morna’s fate would mirror hers in so many ways, the rapid loss of innocence, the slide into misery which followed, childish dreams scattered to the wind.

  The door banged open, and Cormac strode in, slamming it shut behind him.

  Not this, not now, when her mind was in a turmoil.

  He strode over to the settle and took off his boots, his eyes on her all the time, black in the half-light. She was as helpless as a butterfly, pinned by a knife tip, fluttering to get free.

  ‘You should not wed Morna to that man.’ The words were out before she could stop herself. How foolish of her to risk angering him, now it would all be so much worse.

  ‘Why not?’ he snapped.

  ‘Morna is young, and he is dull, and he has a sly look about him. I did not like him, and nor did she, though she is too dutiful to tell you.’

  ‘I told you to stay away from my sister, not take her into your confidence.’

  ‘She is frightened of marriage. I would not see her life made a misery for the sake of alliances.’

  ‘The Colquhouns are wealthy and powerful, with an old name, and they own vast tracts of land,’ said Cormac.

  ‘Land? You would sell your sister for some land or squabble over it with my father, without a care for how many poor people die as you wage your petty wars.’

  ‘Land is everything,’ snarled Cormac. ‘It is power and wealth, it is keeping your clan fed because, for every piece of land your father thieves from us, more of them die. In this world, if you blink before an enemy, Ravenna, you lose all. So I do not blink. A man takes from me, I cut him down. A man crosses me, I cut him down. A man betrays me, and I cut him down. That goes for a woman too. And yes, we fight and bargain and marry for land, Ravenna. It is a matter of survival, and if you don’t know that, you are not Baodan Gowan’s daughter, and you do not have the sharpness of mind I thought you had.’

  ‘But Morna is kind and sweet. This marriage will take all that away from her, Cormac. Do you want to ruin your sister?’

  ‘I want to protect her. When the English march back into Scotland, and march they will, I go to fight with King Robert. If I fall in battle, and my brother too, she will be alone and facing an occupying army. Morna needs a man by her side, the kind of man who can negotiate, who has money and land to buy favour with the English.’

  ‘All this marriage will do is break her spirit and make a slave of her, as you would make a slave of me. Don’t you want something better for her?’

  ‘So you think yourself martyred by marrying me, Ravenna?’

  ‘Aye, for you do not care for me, nor are you kind. You just want to lock me up here and ignore me.’

  ‘I have no intention of ignoring you tonight, quite the opposite.’ He narrowed his eyes and stood up.

  Ravenna’s heart skipped a beat at the look on his face.

  ‘I said I would give you one day’s grace, and that I have done.’

  ‘So, you would force yourself on me?’

  ‘I would never force you, Ravenna. I would not bring that kind of violence on a woman.’

  ‘Men like you always do.’

  ‘Men like me?’ He smiled bitterly. ‘What do you know of men like me? You think this is bad for you? Do you think I want the daughter of a murderous bastard like Baodan Gowan? That man has been raiding and thieving for decades on our lands. He is the reason my younger brother died, his head split open on Glencoe Pass.’

  Glencoe Pass, where Brandan died.

  ‘You stole Gowan lands, we were just paying you back for all the wrongs you did us,’ said Ravenna. ‘You took innocent lives that day.’

  ‘No, they stole our lands and my brother, Darrow, was but a lad still, with all his life before him. I didn’t go out that day wanting a fight, but your father sent men to ambush us. I barely escaped with my life, Lyall too. And Darrow’s death broke my mother. She died soon after, from a broken heart, my father says. For years I have had to defend hearth and home and livestock, always on the alert, always fighting, and all because your father cannot be satisfied with what he has. He must steal more and more.’

  ‘So, on and on it goes, squabbling over land, when all around people are dying because of it?’

  ‘Land is everything Ravenna. Those who have it have the power to feed their people, those who do not, break their backs, eking out a living on scraps. That is what he would have left to us Buchanans, had we not defended what is ours by right. I will not ask forgiveness for it.’

  The room fell silent. Ravenna could not look at him.

  ‘Come Ravenna, we are wed now, let us not quarrel over old wrongs. That will get us nowhere. Let us try and put the past behind us and find some kind of understanding.’

  He stood up and began to undress.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘What does it look like?’

  ‘But you think I am a whore. You are only doing this to punish my father.’

  ‘Whatever you were before you wed me, whoever your father is, does not matter to me now. You are Ravenna Buchanan, my wife. This marriage is at the command of the King and, for it to stand, it must be consummated. I know the man, you defy him at your peril.’

  ‘But you don’t really want me.’

  ‘I dearly wish that were true, but it is not. I hate to admit it, but I didn’t expect you to be so lovely. I find I have the urge to stare at you all the time, and it has been like that since I first set eyes on you. It is not a chore for me to bed you.’

  ‘But I don’t want you to.’

  ‘I may surprise you Ravenna, I may bring you pleasure.’

  ‘Never.’

  He sighed. ‘Well lass, I mean to do this, with or without your pleasure.’ He tore off his tunic. ‘Perhaps for your own sake, you could trust me to be kind. Can you do that?

  ‘Do I have a choice?’ she said, in a small voice.

  ‘No.’

  Cormac came at her and took hold of her waist in his broad hands, his eyes locking onto hers. He kissed her gently at first before a passion seemed to rise in him, and his mouth claimed hers with more urgency. It was a practised kiss, his mouth gliding over hers in just the right rhythm to stir her loins, his close-cropped beard surprisingly soft and smooth. When his tongue invaded her mouth, she stiffened and pushed him away. Cormac stood back and tore off his undershirt.

  Ravenna could not deny he was beautifully built. Powerful shoulders, a broad chest roped in muscle, strong arms. Cormac started to undo his braies, and Ravenna’s eyes were drawn reluctantly downwards to his stomach, taut with muscles, and lower, to his rampant manhood as it sprang free. He was a big man, and she felt panic rise up. She swallowed hard as he leaned in and whispered against her neck, ‘I want to see you again, all of you.’

  Biting her lip, Ravenna pulled her tunic over her head, then she removed her kirtle and let it fall to the floor, all the while trying hard not to look at him.

  ‘My God, you have the body of a goddess,’ he gasped, and with that, he pushed her down onto the bed. His knee came between her legs, and his body followed, she could feel his swollen manhood pushing up against her. ‘You are so beautiful, so very, very lovely. I wish you could want me,’ he breathed against her neck before his mouth claimed hers again.

  She felt so very vulnerable, spread out under this man she hardly knew. But he was true to his word, his hands roamed over the curve of her hips gently, almost reverently. He took his weight on his elbows so as not to crush her, and he did not touch her more than was necessary. He did not poke and prod with his fingers, he caressed and stroked. When his warm hand cupp
ed her breast and his fingertips skimmed over her nipples, the traitorous things puckered and stiffened at his touch, sending shoots of pleasure between her legs.

  How warm he was. Where his chest was pressed to her breasts, it had the heat of a furnace, and his hands were warm too. The faint tang of soap came from his skin, and when he pushed his head into the nape of her neck, his hair felt damp. He had washed for her, which surprised her.

  Ravenna shut her eyes, trying to go far away in her head but oh, the taste and feel of his mouth on hers, his tongue flicking gently in, making her loins bloom and pulse, slippery now with lust. Ravenna did not know what to do with her hands, so she placed them on his back, feeling his coiled muscles shift and swell as he positioned himself over her.

  ‘Please, can you go slowly,’ she gasped, holding her breath.

  ‘Aye, of course, I will be careful. I have no desire to hurt you.’ He pinned her with his black eyes as he pushed himself smoothly inside her. Ravenna could not help but cry out, it was so strange this feeling, fear and desire all at once, fear that he would continue and then, when he had filled her, a sudden longing for him not to stop. He silenced her moans with his mouth, and when she had calmed a little, he began to move against her.

  As she lay under him, Cormac was taken by lust, grabbing onto her hips and pulling her against him, rocking into her. Every time he did so, she felt every inch of him, and a longing, getting stronger and stronger. It felt good what he was doing and it should not. She wanted to arch her back, grab onto him, rub herself against him. She didn’t want him to stop.

  ‘You belong to me now, Ravenna, never forget it. You are mine, and I take what is mine.’ Cormac’s deep, dark voice aroused her, and just as she felt she could not contain her feelings, he groaned and stiffened, clutching on to her tightly. He pulsed into her and then he lay still. Ravenna was acutely aware of his weight, pressing her into the bed. His breathing slowed, then he rolled off of her.

  Ravenna stared up at the ceiling, unsure what was expected of her, as his seed left her body in a warm trickle. It felt like shame leaking out.