Wicked Highland Wishes (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 2)

by Julie Johnstone

  Bridgette gave a harsh laugh, which made him flinch. “Dunnae be calmed, Lachlan. Eolande told me if I did nae control my desire until the time to embrace it was at hand, then I’d be the storm to destroy the bond of brotherhood.”

  He seized the opportunity. “That’s what we need! Time! Time for my pledge to Helena to be dissolved, and time for Graham to forget ye. Then our time will come to discover just how deep this thing between us is.”

  Bridgette’s eyes widened, and he thought she might just agree, but then she shook her head. Disappointment and denial filled him.

  “Lachlan, Eolande also said that jealousy will drive one of ye to lie, to risk yer life, and to hurt the one ye love. And for the other one of ye, jealousy will drive him to his death, whereupon vengeance shall resurrect him.” Bridgette visibly shuddered, and he trembled with her, the words striking at the heart of his own fear. “Do ye see now?” she rasped. “Do ye ken? I will rip ye and Graham apart if we pursue this. We must let whatever this is go! We must forget each other!”

  He pulled her to him, her womanly softness to his hardness, and buried his face in her fragrant hair. “I’ve tried,” he said, not bothering to hide his misery any longer. “Have ye nae tried yerself?”

  “God’s teeth, aye!” she cried out. “Ye haunt me, ye wee devil!”

  Despite the gravity of their predicament, a smile tugged at his lips, and he knew then exactly what he must say. “Wait for me,” he implored, the words tumbling from his mouth, despite the fact that he did not even know how long he was asking her to wait or what she might be waiting for. He simply knew he had to ask. “Wait for us and the time to come when we may discover what draws us to each other and tempts us, in spite of it all.” His breath caught deep in his throat as he waited for her to respond.

  “I will wait for ye,” she whispered. “I dunnae believe I have a choice.”

  Leaning toward her, he pressed his lips to hers, and for a long sweet moment, their tongues swirled and tangled. Finally, he forced himself to pull away, knowing the day was marching quickly toward darkness. He did not doubt his ability to protect her, but he did not want to take unnecessary risks, which reminded him of why he had followed her in the first place.

  “Bridgette, I need ye nae to wander away from the castle unaccompanied by men. Many men. Actually, dunnae depart castle grounds unless I’m with ye.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  ’Twas a good question, and he did not have an exact reason, only suspicions. “My uncle returning to Scotland and Helena.”

  Bridgette snorted. “Helena! I could easily defend myself from Helena.”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “But perchance her father’s desire to have her pledged to me has something to do with you.”

  “Me?” Bridgette asked, her scowl deepening.

  Lachlan rubbed a hand across his face as he thought how to best explain himself. “Colin Campbell wished to marry ye, and ye declined that offer. Yer brother will feel a sense of obligation to be allies with whomever ye marry, and ye ken as well as I do that the Campbell kens this.”

  “Aye, but—Oh!” She gasped. “Do ye suspect the Campbell laird sent Helena here to get close to me? To sway me? And pledging her to ye gave the man a reason for his daughter to come?”

  “I dunnae ken for certain,” he answered honestly. “And I believe Helena is here for more than just ye.”

  “I dunnae believe it’s me at all,” Bridgette replied. “She’s barely even talked to me except to ask me of the Fairy Flag when I stumbled upon her.”

  Lachlan tensed. “What did she say?”

  “She said Colin had told her the history of it, and that she was curious. I thought it a bit odd that Colin would be speaking of yer clan’s—” Bridgette abruptly stopped speaking as her eyes popped wide. “Do ye believe she might be here to steal the flag?”

  “Aye,” Lachlan confirmed. “I ken it to be so, but the flag is nae in danger. I must learn why else she is here. Now, do ye ken why I wish ye to stay near the castle?”

  Bridgette nodded.

  Relieved, he stood and held his hand out to her to help her stand. Once she was up, he released her hand, wishing to hold on to her yet knowing it was best if they did not touch again, not until their time came. She was simply too much temptation for him to resist once he touched her. He stared at her hand and looked into her eyes to find her watching him.

  “Bridgette, I—”

  “Ye dunnae need to say more. We will nae touch.”

  He nodded, and then they collected their horses together, side by side, as close as they could get without grazing, which was much too far apart for him.

  They rode in silence, but Bridgette’s thoughts were deafening. Her mind turned with all that had happened, from the news about Helena and Lachlan, to what Eolande had told her, to the kisses and embraces she had shared with Lachlan, to her vow to wait for him. She’d not dared to hope to hear such words from him, and she feared in daring to hope that now they both risked destroying themselves.

  She could feel him beside her, power rolling off him in hot waves. To think his need for her had rattled his incredible strength left her with a feeling of awe and fear. Lachlan was a man who lived to protect others, and she sensed his honor was tied to his need to do so. Ever since she could remember, Lachlan had always seemed to be looking out for Graham, even more so than Iain, who was laird and the eldest, but she’d never thought to ask why before now.

  “Tell me of yer relationship with Graham,” she said into the silence.

  He turned slightly and looked at her. “It has long been strained, and I have long tried to repair the rift. In spite of that, he is my brother. I would die for him, and I would die to defend him.”

  Bridgette swallowed hard, thinking upon the seer’s words. “What caused the strain?”

  “When I was a young lad, our mother fell ill. She feared she was going to die, and one day, she called all of us into her bedchamber and bid each of us to vow to watch over the others when she was gone. She instructed Iain to watch over all of us. I was to watch out for Graham. Graham for Lena, Lena for Cameron, and Cameron was still a wee bairn, so he was nae given anyone to watch over. Mother recovered but nae fully, and she made sure we kenned she expected us to fulfill our duties.”

  Bridgette nodded, listening carefully.

  “One day,” he went on, “when Graham was supposed to be watching over Lena, she drowned. She was only seven summers but she kenned how to swim, so Graham decided she would be safe without him. He wanted to catch a rabbit for our mother because she’d told him he needed to become a better hunter like I was. I teased him about it for days. When he returned from trying to catch the rabbit, Atholl was in the water frantically searching for Lena. He’d been on guard duty at the seagate stairs, had heard her crying for help, and raced into the water when he saw her going under. But he could nae find her… We searched for days for her body, but the loch swallowed her up.”

  Lachlan’s face twisted in pain, and Bridgette’s chest squeezed at his obvious guilt. “If I’d nae teased Graham but taught him to hunt with more skill, he’d nae have left Lena in the water to chase after that rabbit.” He paused, as if deep in thought. “After Lena died, Graham withdrew from me. I ken he blamed me for teasing him, and he was right to do so. I was to watch out for him, and I failed.”

  “Ye did what any child would do to a sibling, Lachlan. Ye were nae to blame for yer sister’s drowning and neither was Graham.”

  “After it happened, I vowed always to treat others with respect and to be humble. To be a defender, above all. I honed my body into a weapon so I could keep those I love safe. Do ye ken?”

  She nodded, new feelings building in her that she’d never experienced. She had yearned for Lachlan, had known he was good and honorable, but to talk with him this way, for him to let her see a glimpse inside his heart, made a deeper caring pulse within her.

  “But—” he sighed “—It seemed the stronger I became, the more tourna
ments I won, the more I tried to watch over Graham and keep him from harm, the more he drew away from me. Sometimes I think he despises me.”

  “He kinnae see beyond his jealousy,” she said, suddenly sure it was true.

  Lachlan shrugged. “I dunnae ken if that’s so or nae. We have nae ever been close, nae like Iain and I are, since Lena drowned.”

  Sadness welled in Bridgette’s throat. How awful Graham must have felt about Lena when he was supposed to be watching her. Surely their mother had not held Graham accountable. Surely, others had told him it was not his fault. “Did ye tell him he was nae to blame?”

  “Of course. I told him I was to blame for failing him, and he scoffed at me and stalked away.”

  The sorrow in Lachlan’s voice pierced her deep. He loved his brother, and he’d done all in his power to show Graham that. No matter what happened, she could not be the thing that drove them irrevocably apart.

  “Ye must vow something to me,” she said.

  “And what might that be?” he asked warily.

  She took a deep breath, a hard knot of fear forming in her belly. “Pledge to me that if it becomes a choice between Graham and me, ye will choose Graham.” She didn’t know where the worry came from, but it was there, along with a sense that a time would come when Lachlan would, indeed, be forced to pick between her and his brother. She wanted—no, needed—to release him from the choice by making it for him.

  “That will nae come to pass,” he replied in a hard, unrelenting voice.

  “But if it does?” she demanded.

  His face grew serious and somber. “I will choose ye both.”

  She knew she would not get the vow she was after, so she relented. “Ye’re a stubborn Scot,” she grumbled.

  “Aye,” he said with a chuckle. “Almost as stubborn as ye.”

  Eleven

  Bridgette did her best to keep her distance from Lachlan over the next couple of weeks. It wasn’t that she was afraid either of them would let their desire overcome their good sense, but the more time she spent around him the more she grew to care for him and the greater hold he had over her heart. She feared the devastation she’d be forced to endure if she and Lachlan could never have a chance to be together, and part of her thought it was best if she did not allow further attachments to grow.

  One morning, as she watched him across the courtyard patiently teaching a little servant boy how to shoot a bow and arrow, Bridgette could not help but wonder if Lachlan had come to the same conclusion about not letting their attachment deepen until they knew it would not be fruitless. He seemed to be avoiding being alone with her, too.

  Then again, Helena was almost always with him now. Bridgette did not know whether Helena was shadowing him or he her, but either way, she was fully aware she was jealous and fearful. She had not asked Lachlan of the lengths of deception he had been asked to go to for the king—she had not thought to ask when they had spoken about it—but now that she had thought upon it, she wondered incessantly if Lachlan had been asked to seduce Helena. If he had but had not yet used that tactic, was he going to? Joining with Helena would bind him to her for life by making their pledge a marriage. Bridgette was sure he would avoid that, but thinking upon him even touching Helena made Bridgette feel ill.

  She suspected Marion may well know something, given her previous comments, but since she did not know exactly what Marion might be aware of, Bridgette could not talk to her for fear of betraying Lachlan’s confidence. As a result, Bridgette felt very alone, and worry was constantly hindering her ability to keep her mind on task—like now. She should be concentrated on her target, yet she was gaping at Lachlan and the boy.

  When the boy’s father came up and went to smack the boy on the head for missing yet another shot, Lachlan caught the man by the wrist. “Quinn, hitting yer son will nae teach him how to handle the bow and arrow any faster.”

  “Ye’re nae his father,” the Scot growled. “A thump on the head, or even a smack across the face, will help him learn, so I’m going to give it to him.”

  Bridgette held her breath waiting to hear how Lachlan would respond. She saw his eyes narrow and his free hand curl into a fist at his side. “I’m nae his father, that’s true, but I’ve trained enough men to ken what teaches them and what does nae. And cruelty does nae.”

  “I’ll do as I see fit,” the Scot snarled.

  Bridgette didn’t know Quinn, but she’d heard whispers that he was a harsh man who’d become so after his wife had died. She wanted to rush over and defend the boy from his father, but to do so could make things even worse for the child. She watched Lachlan, wondering how he would proceed.

  Lachlan drew in a long breath, then spoke. “Let us test our skills, Quinn. If ye win, then ye can take over yer son’s training and do it however ye deem best. But if I win, I’ll continue to train yer son the way I believe to be best. What say ye?”

  The man grinned. “I agree, but I get to decide how our skill with a bow and arrow is tested.”

  Lachlan nodded. “Agreed. How do ye wish us to test our skill? Speed? Accuracy? Perchance distance?”

  “Accuracy. Let the boy stand with an apple on his head. Whoever splits the apple in a perfect half will win.”

  The boy’s face paled. “But Da—”

  The man waved an annoyed hand at his son, and when he did, Bridgette noted the way Quinn’s hand trembled. She was unsure if Lachlan had seen it, but the boy tracked his father’s trembling hand from the air to his side, and a puddle of urine suddenly appeared between the child’s legs.

  The father made a noise of disgust. “Ye coward,” he huffed. “Ye dunnae wet yerself over having an apple on yer head.”

  Lachlan grabbed the Scot by his plaid and hauled him close. The men around Lachlan stilled. Angus caught Bridgette’s eye and shook his head when she stepped forward to come to the child’s aid. She forced herself to remain where she was, though she wanted to run to the boy and cradle him in her arms. Lachlan spat toward the ground, which Bridgette knew the MacLeod men did when confronting a man they believed without honor.

  Quinn’s face mottled red, and his blond eyebrows dipped into a glare. “Unhand me, Lachlan,” he growled. “I’m going to tell Iain about this.”

  “Ye be sure to do that,” Lachlan snarled and shoved the man away. Quinn staggered backward but maintained his balance. Lachlan glared at the Scot. “Yer boy was shaking because he sees that ye have drank too much. We all see it. Drowning yerself in wine will nae bring yer wife back.”

  “That’s nae yer concern,” Quinn snapped and snatched an apple from the basket Helena happened by with at that moment. He shoved the apple at his boy. “Put this on yer head and stand down there.”

  The boy stared at the apple but didn’t move. Bridgette couldn’t take any more. She raced across the courtyard, pointedly ignoring Angus who was now shaking his head at her. She stopped in front of Quinn. “Ye shame yerself,” she growled. “Nae yer son.” She snatched the apple out of the boy’s hand and faced Quinn, who glared at her with twitching eyes. Lachlan looked at her with so much pride that she had to fight a grin. “Leave yer son to go clean himself. I’ll put the apple on my head for the two of ye to shoot at.”

  “That suits me,” Quinn replied in a grudging voice. “I’m shamed to look at the boy any longer as it is.”

  Bridgette gave the child a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and then shooed him away with her hand. Her knees shook as she realized what she had done. She had saved the boy, and in doing so, put her own life at risk.

  Lachlan seemed to be coming to the same conclusion as his gaze darted rapidly between her and Quinn. Lachlan moved toward the man. “If yer arrow so much as skims Bridgette’s head, I will kill ye,” he said in a low voice that only the three of them likely heard.

  Bridgette caught Helena looking speculatively from her to Lachlan, and then a dark scowl settled on the woman’s face. Bridgette had an uneasy feeling about Helena’s expression, but there was naught to be done abo
ut the woman now, so Bridgette walked toward the trees and placed the apple on her head.

  “I’m ready,” she called.

  The dozen other people in the courtyard were eerily quiet. Lachlan motioned Quinn forward to shoot first, but then suddenly, Lachlan said something and came striding toward her. His gaze captured hers as he made a show of straightening the apple on her head. Having him so close made her feel dizzy. She curled her toes into her slippers to steady herself.

  His eyes impaled her with an intensity that made her want to groan. “Dunnae ever volunteer to let someone shoot at ye again, Bridgette. Ye made my heart stop with yer foolish and wonderful courage.”

  Her cheeks tingled where his breath had washed over her as he spoke. “Ye were going to let the child stand here,” she accused.

  “Aye,” Lachlan replied, moving the apple again. “Because I ken his da is a terrible shot and his arrow would have nae been near the child, but ye dunnae ken that.”

  “What’s taking so long?” Quinn shouted.

  Lachlan waved a hand in the air. “The apple is nae wanting to stay. One more move and it will be perfect.” Lachlan moved it again as his gaze held hers. “Ye vowed to me ye’d take a care with yer safety.” His desperation vibrated the words of his request.

  She swallowed hard. “I will be more careful,” she whispered. He gave her a satisfactory nod before turning and striding back toward Quinn.

  The Scot stepped up to shoot, and despite Lachlan’s assurance that the man’s arrow would not come anywhere near her, her heart pounded in fear. But the minute Quinn released his arrow and it arced wide to the right, well away from her, Bridgette released her breath in a rush of relief.

  When Lachlan prepared to shoot, he gave her a reassuring look, but he need not have bothered. She’d seen him shoot, knew his skill, and trusted him implicitly. Lachlan’s shot was quick and perfectly aimed. The apple flew off her head when the arrow lodged in it, and when she bent down to retrieve it, it was perfectly split in half. She could not help but be impressed at his abilities.