“I willna curse the woman I love to wed a man with naught but a plaid to protect her from the cold.” Colum plunged the whetstone back in the water bucket, rolling its cold smooth weight in his palm. He slung the excess water free and returned it to the shining metal.
“The Lady Kenna willna wait forever. Sinclair women have verra little patience.” Gray halted mid-stride, then turned and fixed Colum with a meaningful scowl. “Trust me. I know. M’wife has made it quite clear that ye best get on with the marryin’ of her sister. The Lady Trulie grows weary of her sister’s unhappiness—the unhappiness yer stubborn arse has caused.”
Colum bit back the response beggin’ to be spoken. When he chose to marry was none of the Lady Trulie’s business—chieftain’s wife or no’. But the MacKenna’s warning fanned the coals of uncertainty already burning in his gut. “What the hell do ye mean ‘The Lady Kenna willna wait forever’?” Kenna loved him as much as he loved her, of that he was certain. He just needed time. Time to figure out how best to become worthy of her. Colum eased his sword down across the bench, then pulled a short-bladed dagger from the sheath sewn inside his boot.
“Sutherland has sent word.” Gray’s voice deepened as he leaned back against the weathered boards of an empty stall. “We expect him. Soon.” The ancient boards creaked and groaned with Gray’s every move, as though echoing his warning.
“ ‘Sent word’?” Colum didn’t look up from the knife and whetstone as he ran it down the shining steel of the blade. “Expect him for what?” The question was needless. He knew exactly what Sutherland wanted. The old chieftain was sniffing out his next wife like a stag in full rut.
Gray’s weary sigh echoed through the peacefulness of the stable. “Ye know ‘for what’ as well as I. ’Tis been a year since his last wife died. It nay took long for news of the lovely—and currently available—Sinclair sister to make its way to him across the Highlands.”
“Mother Sinclair has clearly made it known the Lady Kenna willna be married off to a man not of her choosing. And she’s nay available. All here know my intentions, as well as Lady Kenna’s wishes.” Colum held up the blade to the fading light of the window and traced his thumb along the razor-sharp edge. Perfect. Sharp and true—just as was his certainty that he must wait to wed Kenna until all was properly readied.
Colum tossed the whetstone onto the bench and dried the blade with a fold of his plaid. “God help the man foolish enough to cross Mother Sinclair. Or me.”
Gray shifted his weight, rubbing his back against the rough boards like a massive bear scratching against a tree. “Sutherland’s messenger was quite clear that the man considers Lady Kenna unattached and officially available.” The worn planks groaned as Gray pushed away from the stall and leveled a warning finger toward Colum. “Wake up, man. He means to have yer Lady Kenna, and ye know the rumors about him.”
Murderous fury surged through Colum like a roaring blaze. He jammed the knife back in its sheath and jumped up from the bench. Jealous rage transformed his words into a low-throated growl. “Kenna is my woman.”
“Not until ye make it official.” Gray rested a hand atop Colum’s shoulder for a brief moment, then moved toward the stable door. “Whether ye have a croft or a cave, ye best be makin’ her yer wife before someone steals her out from under yer overly prideful nose. Other suitors sniffin’ about have been easily spurned. But ye know Sutherland. The man will ne’er be swayed by anything less than knowin’ the Lady Kenna is already married.”
Colum stared down at the hard-packed ground, littered with fresh clean straw. His knuckles cracked as his hands tensed into shaking fists. The stable door creaked out a low grinding whine, then shut with a soft bang as Gray left him with his troubled thoughts.
How the hell could he take Kenna to wife when he had so little to offer? He needed more time—time to build a fine keep worthy of her. A safe place. A secure place fit to be filled with the laughter of their future children.
Colum’s thoughts turned to last night—to Kenna and their heated exchange. Surely the woman nay thought he wished only to impress his chieftain? Kenna deserved naught but the verra best, and he would be damned straight to the fiery pits of hell before he gave her anythin’ less.
And now Sutherland threatened all those plans. Colum had no doubt Kenna would refuse the man, but Sutherland was known for ne’er accepting no for an answer, at least when it came to obtaining wives. Colum closed his hand around the haft of his sword. The worn grip warmed to his palm, melding with his flesh. He slashed the blade through the air before jamming it home in its sheath. He’d give Sutherland an answer the man had no choice but to accept. He’d give him a taste of his blade.
Colum had met Sutherland only once, but once was more than enough. He’d ne’er forget the man’s cold hard stare or the strange sense of darkness surrounding him. Rumors about the silver-haired chieftain even spoke of a curse.
A large velvety nose nudged the back of his arm, followed by a soft, low-pitched nicker. Colum ignored the horse. Rua needed to tend to his feed and leave him to his thoughts. The gentle nicker changed to a deep rumbling insistence as Rua butted Colum’s shoulder hard enough to nudge him sideways a few steps. “Damn ye, Rua. I have n’time for yer games today. Ye have yer feed and yer well brushed. Now go—see to yer rest.”
The dull thud of hoof against ground warned Colum a second too late as Rua snorted out a good-sized glob of sliminess with enough accuracy to cover his master’s exposed calf. Rua’s favorite trick—snotting on an unwary target—had gotten Colum again. “Yer a vile wicked beast, Rua, a vile wicked beast, indeed.” Colum yanked a rubbing rag from its peg and mopped away the sticky mess.
“Rua is a sweetheart.”
A musical giggle floated across the stable, accompanied by the exhilarating scent of freshly mown hay and warm spiced honey. Colum’s senses roared to attention. Only one woman smelled so delicious that she set his mouth to watering.
“The Lady Kenna thinks yer a sweetheart, Rua. Perhaps ye should show her yer favorite trick and see if she changes her mind.” Colum wiped away the last of the horse’s snot and tossed the rag aside. He turned back to Kenna with a frown. “And have I no’ asked ye to avoid walking about the grounds unattended? The inner garden is the lone place I feel ye t’be safe. Why will ye no’ listen?”
“I don’t do anything to make Rua want to slime me…and I can take care of myself, so stop harping about my needing a watchdog.” Kenna stepped into the pale shaft of light pouring across the aisle.
Words left him. Lore a’mercy. Colum had ne’er seen Kenna dressed in such tempting finery. Her dark hair had been swept up and the sleek curls pinned so they fell in shining ringlets around her slender throat.
Colum licked his lips and struggled for breath as he took in the creamy expanse of tempting flesh revealed by the low-cut neckline of her tight bodice. God a’mighty. Each breath she took lifted the silky mounds of her bosoms, teasing him with just enough of a peek to make him ache to crush those delightful treats to his face.
“Colum.”
The warning tone yanked Colum away from his fantasies and pulled his gaze upward to Kenna’s irritated glare. He swallowed hard to restore enough moisture to his mouth to be able to speak. Almost. Lore a’mighty…those tempting sweet breasts. He forced his gaze back to Kenna’s face, then coughed and choked out the word. “Aye?”
The sparkle in Kenna’s narrowed eyes indicated that even though she was still aggravated with him, she was pleased with the response her new dress had evoked. One dark slender brow arched a notch higher as she crossed her arms beneath her breasts and hugged her waist just tight enough to plump the twin delights of Colum’s misery even higher.
The wee minx knows she taunts me. Colum adjusted his quickly rising plaid. Damn his aching cock. ’Twould take another cold swim in the sea before he’d be fit to join them at supper.
“I thought you might like to know that we have visitors at the keep this evening.” Kenna eased closer.
Her deep blue skirts whispered across the dry earth as she slowly circled Colum.
Colum shifted uneasily in place. He had the distinct feeling Kenna was sizing him up for prey. Lore a’mercy. She can seize me anytime she wishes. Colum swallowed hard and attempted to focus on Kenna’s words instead of his fantasies. Had she said “guests”? This evening? Damnation. Gray could ha’ given a bit more warning of Sutherland’s actual arrival date.
“Gray told me.” Colum bit back the rest of what he wanted to say. If he snatched her up and gave Rua his head, they could be well across the Highlands before Chieftain Sutherland had touched his first glass of fine claret that the MacKenna kept for honored guests. Colum clenched his fists at his sides to keep from acting on the notion. Nay. Kenna deserved better than a runaway joining and naught more for a home than a hastily built shelter.
Kenna scowled at him and stomped one foot. “And you are just going to sit here like a bump on a log and not do anything?” Twin patches of scarlet blossomed across her high cheekbones, warning signs of her quick temper. “I should have brought either a cattle prod or some pepper spray back to this century. Maybe that would’ve jolted your ass into action.”
Cattle prod? Spraying peppers? Colum swallowed a groan. Now was no’ the time for Kenna to start using those strange words from her life in the faraway future—odd words about troubling things he nay understood. “Please, Kenna. Ye know ye addle me when ye speak so. Do ye enjoy makin’ me feel the dullard?” He wasna stupid. He just struggled with knowing what the hell the woman talked about half the time. Kenna needed to keep her words anchored in this time and place.
Kenna’s gaze fell to the floor. “No. You know I would never do that to you. Well, at least not this time, anyway.” She peeked up at him through her long dark lashes, her mouth irresistibly quirked to one side in a wry grin. “Unless, of course, you deserve it.” She eased over to him and slid both hands atop his chest.
Lore a’mighty, her touch sets me on fire.
“But I don’t understand why you don’t…” Kenna’s voice trailed off as she stared up into his face. “Do something, Colum.” She stomped one foot with an impatient huff as she tucked her head beneath his chin and melted her curves against him. “I want to be your wife. I want us married.”
Aye. He wanted to do somethin’ all right. Kenna’s soft warmth molded against him made him wish to do a great many somethings, repeatedly and with limitless pleasure. But nay…he couldna do this. Kenna had made her wishes quite clear. Marriage. Home. Children. Proper preparations took time. Many a battle was lost due to being ill prepared.
Colum gritted his teeth as he grasped Kenna by the shoulders and gently set her an arm’s length away. This might not exactly be a battle but by the gods, ’twas damn close. Ancestors give me strength.
The immediate loss of Kenna’s heat set his cock to throbbing in angry protest. Colum shifted his stance and angrily shook free the rising drape of his plaid. “I canna make ye m’wife until I have everythin’ ready. Ye deserve better than the little I have for ye now. ’Twill no’ take verra long—a mere few years ta build a keep and set things in place. Three years at the verra most.”
“Three years?” Kenna’s eyes flared wider. “Three…freakin’…years?” Her voice rose to such a shrill pitch, the horses rustled uneasily in their stalls. “Do you have any idea how rare a twenty-three–year-old virgin is where I come from?” She whirled around, dust flying as her full skirts swept across the floor. “If I was still in the twenty-first century, there would be a lot of people who would suggest I seek counseling, because I apparently have issues with my sexuality.” The plentiful layers of Kenna’s skirts bounced as she again stomped her foot. “I’m tired of waiting, Colum. You are the only one I want to give myself to—body and soul. And the body part is getting really tired of waiting.” Kenna’s voice quivered as her arms fell limp against her sides. “I thought you wanted me too.”
Colum rushed forward, gathered her up, and pulled her back against his chest. He closed his eyes and inhaled Kenna’s sweetness as he tucked her head beneath his chin and ran his fingers through her silky curls. His hoarse whisper rasped out around the knot of emotions lodged in his throat. “I want ye more than mere words can say.” Damn, this woman made him feel more than he e’er thought possible. His heart ached as though ripped from his chest. He couldna bear seeing her so unhappy. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head and tightened his embrace. “ ’Tis nearly unmanned me to keep from taking ye and making ye m’own. Ye know what I feel for ye. Surely, ye know by now ye own me body and soul.”
“Then do it. Right here. Right now. In the hay.” Kenna’s frustration dared his resolve. Her challenge filtered up to him through the folds of his léine as she clutched it to her chin and squirmed tighter against him. “Make me your own.”
Colum drew in a shuddering breath and kissed the top of Kenna’s head again. “Nay, Kenna.” He swallowed hard and gently set her aside. Damnation, it pained him to refuse her, but he knew deep in his heart Kenna had no wish for it to happen this way. His aching bollocks tightened in disbelief. “Ye swore ye would wait until ye married. I willna be the one to break yer oath to yerself.” Colum drew back another step and tensed his arms to his sides. “I still remember the fire in yer eyes when ye swore ye would ne’er let a man touch ye until he proved himself worthy and took ye for his wife. I am no’ worthy of ye yet…but I will be. Soon.”
“Fine.” Kenna huffed and jerked a smoothing hand down the bodice of her dress. Her jaw tilted to the defiant angle it always took when she didn’t get her way. The heightened color in her cheeks and her infuriated glare added an even clearer nuance to the usual meaning of Kenna’s declaration of “Fine.”
Lore a’mighty, I hate that damn word. God help him. Colum knew Kenna’s present stance all too well. The woman was about to explode into something Colum had already decided was even worse than a raging banshee. When Kenna’s temper flared ’twas best to take cover until her rage was fully spent. Colum lowered his voice to the soothing tone that usually won him an impassioned embrace and at least one—if not a few more—of her sweet, stolen kisses. “I am only doing as ye wished, m’love. I willna have ye regret the first time I take ye.”
“Don’t give me that crap.” An irritated growl escaped Kenna as she gathered up her skirts and stomped toward the door. “When I told you I wanted to wait until I was married, I didn’t think it was going to take you a freakin’ eternity to get your act together and set a date.”
Hiking her skirts above her knees, Kenna kicked the stable door open and stormed out into the yard. Her enraged warning echoed back into the warm depths of the stable. “And if you keep fiddly-fartin’ around, I just might decide I’m tired of waiting and accept another offer. Virginity is highly overrated!”
Colum winced at the anger in Kenna’s voice. May the gods be with me. Being a man of honor had suddenly become a verra large pain in the arse.
Chapter 16
Kenna stomped up the layered flagstones leading to the front entrance of the keep. The walk along the wide path atop the curtain wall had done nothing to improve her mood or cool her temper. Granny had been dead wrong. The low-cut neckline of the new dress hadn’t done a damn thing to nudge Colum into agreeing to talk to Gray and officially setting a date. Kenna snorted. The only thing the extra-tight bodice had done was prevent any deep breathing.
Seeing the lighter gray of the freshly scrubbed entry stones added to her frustration. Great. Just freakin’ great. She was in no mood for visitor decorum, stupid clan politics, or any overstuffed chieftains on the hunt for a two-legged broodmare.
Even the scowling dragons perched atop the twin columns flanking the steps seemed to warn her time was running out. Their weather-bleached faces had been brushed free of any sign of cobwebs or splattered offerings from passing gulls. All had been set in order at MacKenna keep for a proper welcoming of their auspicious visitor.
Kenna huffed against her mounting frustrat
ion as she flounced through the double oak doors carved with the MacKenna crest. It was a good thing she had decided not to sleep with Colum until after they were married. At the rate he was going, they would have had grandchildren before he ever worked up the gumption to make her his wife.
“Ye must no’ go in there right now.” The whispered warning came from behind a richly colored tapestry as a slender hand darted out and clamped onto Kenna’s wrist. Kenna glanced down. She knew that hand. Coira’s pale skin had so many freckles she looked as though the gods had sprinkled her with cinnamon. Coira yanked Kenna into the hidden alcove and pulled her down onto the pillowed bench beside her.
“What are you doing back here?” Kenna scooted closer across the bench as she glanced about the hidden alcove. What a neat hiding place.
Coira brought a finger to her lips and shook her head. “Shh. I thought ye might wish t’see the visiting chieftain. He’s different from the others who have come to offer for yer hand.”
Kenna lowered her voice to a less irritated whisper as she tucked the tangled layers of her skirts well inside the darkness of the alcove. “What do you mean ‘different’?” She leaned forward, peering through the narrow opening cut through a fold of the tapestry. Coira made it sound as though every landed male in Scotland had applied for an alliance to the MacKenna clan by agreeing to take her off Gray’s hands, when in truth only a few chieftains had learned of her existence and sought to use it to their advantage.
“Watch him, mistress. And listen. Ye’ll soon see what I mean.” Coira balanced a long tapered blade between them on the bench and peeped out the slit she had just cut on her side of the tapestry.
My Highland Bride (Highland Hearts #2) Page 11
