Harry walked through the hall ahead of her, immediately brightening. "Nonsense. She'll think you're as beautiful as I think you are. Mother will love you." He caught her hand. "Come, I'll introduce you."
Kara smoothed her hair and then her gown, but to little avail. With a resigned sigh, she allowed her boy-husband to lead her into the great hall.
Harry's hounds burst into frenzied barks of greeting and raced toward them. He patted one after the other, scratching behind their ears and rubbing their muzzles. The dogs leaped excitedly, red tongues lolling.
"Good girl. Good Matilda," Harry said. "Down, Edward. Charles, really, you must behave. Get off Kara before she sends you packing!"
"Harry, dear!" A woman in her early sixties rose from a chair pulled in front of one of the fireplaces.
Kara was surprised that she suddenly felt nervous. She'd been betrothed to marry into this family since she was fifteen. But she'd never met the dowager of Dunnane, and for some unknown reason she wanted the woman to like her. She wanted her approval. Perhaps because she had never had the approval of her own mother.
The older woman came to her son with open arms. She was tall, thin, but not overly so. Her white hair was fashionably coiffed, her gown subdued but well stitched. She was the epitome of what Kara thought a mother-in-law should look like.
"Mother!"
Harry released Kara's hand to meet Anne Gordon and throw his arms around her. He hugged his mother hard, his embrace genuine.
Kara couldn't resist a smile.
"You look wonderful, dear." She smoothed his cheek, which had yet to need shaving. "I believe marriage agrees with you."
He grinned. "Mother, I want you to meet Kara." He held out one hand graciously.
Kara accepted her husband's hand and bobbed a curtsy. "Lady Dunnane."
Anne laughed and fluttered her hand in front of her face. "Nae, you are now Lady Dunnane, dear. Call me Mother Anne."
She took Kara's face between her palms to look into her eyes, then wrapped her arms around her. She smelled of peppermint. "Welcome to the family. I'm so sorry I wasn't here for the wedding. But first there was the washed out road and then my gout."
Kara stepped back, squeezing Anne's hands before releasing them. "Are you feeling better?" She gestured to the chairs pulled up to one of the fireplaces. "We should sit so you can rest."
"I'm fine. Fit as fennel. I'm just glad I could make it to Dunnane now. Ian has assured me in his letters that Harry is doing well in his father's place, but I wanted to see for myself." Her tone softened. "I needed to see."
The mention of Ian's name sent a thrill down Kara's spine. How could she have forgotten? Harry's mother was Ian's mother. When she hugged Harry's mother, she was hugging Ian's as well. If Harry's mother liked her, Ian's mother liked her. Somehow that seemed important.
"Ian has been wonderful," Kara said, taking care with her tone of voice. She couldn't let anyone know her secret. And she knew that she would have to be especially careful around Anne Gordon. Women could see things in matters of the heart where men could not.
"That is because Ian is a wonderful man. Both of my sons are wonderful men." She walked back toward her chair, leading Harry by his hand. "Now come sit, both of you, and tell me how married life is. You both look so happy."
Kara hesitated. She had told Harry she would stay if he wanted her to, but he seemed comfortable enough, now with his mother. She really needed to be alone for a short time. She needed to bathe, brush her hair and her teeth, and collect her thoughts. She needed to figure out how she was going to deal with Ian. They spent so much time together that she had to have a plan. She couldn't keep ignoring him. She couldn't keep kissing him, either.
Kara pressed her hands to her girdle. "Harry, if it would be all right, I'd like to retire to our chamber for a short time. You could have some time alone with your mother."
Harry glanced up. He started to protest; then the expression on his face changed. He nodded. "Very well. I wanted to show Mother the new falconry anyway. Will you order supper? A feast for my mother's homecoming."
"Isla is already seeing to it. Anything else, my lord?"
He rose, seeming older before his mother. "Nothing else. Go rest." Then, to Kara's complete shock, he rose up onto his toes and kissed her cheek.
She felt her cheeks grow warm as she bobbed a quick curtsy and hurried out of the room.
Kara was so flustered by Harry's gesture that she didn't see Ian until she ran right into him in the corridor. "Oh!" she cried, glancing up, knowing who the human wall was even before she saw him.
Ian caught both of her arms to steady her. "Kara." He spoke her name as if he were breathless from running... or kissing her.
She glanced up at him, met his gaze and looked down. "I... I..." She took a breath, trying to calm her pounding heart. She didn't want to sound like a simpleton. "I left Harry in the hall with his... your... mother. She's very kind." She scrambled to find something to say that would keep her thoughts from his mouth and how badly hers ached for him now. "I... was just going to my chamber to clean up. I've ordered a banquet feast to welcome her home."
"Kara—"
"I'm a mess." She swept loose hair back over the crown of her head. "I was embarrassed for your mother to see me like this, but Harry insisted—"
"Kara, I need to talk to you."
He didn't touch her. She knew he didn't dare.
She could feel that familiar tightening in her chest. She, too, was breathless. This was madness. She held up her hand to stop him. "Not now, Ian."
"But—"
She pushed past him, running for the steps and the sanctuary of her private bedchamber. "Please, Ian. Not now. I can't. I just can't. We'll talk tonight."
Before he could say anything more, she was up the steps, taking two at a time. She was thankful he did not follow.
Kara bathed, then allowed Isla to help her sweep up her hair and don a clean gown. Then she sent the girl to rest in her own room. With Isla tucked into her bed with a cup of herbal tea, Kara slipped down the stairs, through a rarely used corridor and into the tiny chapel some previous Lady Dunnane had built. She and Harry had not married there, but in the great hall, because the chapel was too small, and truly meant only for private devotions.
Privacy was what Kara needed right now.
She passed the four dusty, wormholed pews, two on each side, and approached the altar. It was bare except for a silver Celtic cross. She knelt on the stone floor before the altar and clasped her hands.
She squeezed her eyes shut. "Please, God," she prayed fervently. "Help me to be a good and virtuous wife. Help me to preserve my husband's name. Help me to not love Ian so much," she whispered.
Kara opened her eyes and waited. She thought her prayers would lift the burden she felt, but there was no lightening.
What if she was praying for the wrong thing? What if she was demanding too much from God?
She closed her eyes again.
"Help me," she prayed silently, her lips moving. "Help me do the right thing, God. Help me do my duty to my husband... and to myself. To you. Give me strength. Guide me to do what is right. Forgive me for what I do that is wrong." She paused. "Amen."
She opened her eyes and stared at the cross. Now she felt better. She still didn't know what to do or how to handle Ian and her feelings for him. But she felt better. Stronger. She rose from the altar, a satisfied smile on her face.
She would remain friends with Ian. She would continue to rely on his counsel to help Harry become more self-sufficient. She would just avoid personal conversations. She would avoid being alone. Maybe these feelings for Ian weren't real, weren't lasting. Perhaps with time they would fade, she told herself. With time Harry would mature and eventually take her to his bed. They would have children and she would forget her infatuation with her brother-in-law.
She sighed. Aye. And perhaps with time she would also become the queen of England, Scotland and Wales.
* * *
"I need to talk to you." Ian stood in the doorway of Harry's bedchamber. He had waited in the shadows of the corridor below stairs until he had seen Kara heading for the kitchen. Only then had he dared come to the bedchamber, to the room where she slept, where she undressed.
Avoiding her was the only way he could deal with her right now, with his feelings for her. She'd taken him completely by surprise in the hall earlier. He'd thought to tell her he was leaving, but she hadn't given him a chance. Instead he would bring the matter up with Harry alone. It was probably better this way.
"Do you like the red coat?" Harry held up a handsome scarlet wool coat. "Or the blue? The blue matches my eyes." He held it up, studying himself in a large oval looking glass that had been a wedding gift from the MacDonald clan. "I really can't choose. They're both so wonderful."
"Harry, are you listening to me?" Ian wanted to get this over with. He wanted to speak his piece while he still had the courage. He had to get away from here before he did something he would regret. Worse, something he feared he would not regret.
Harry tossed both coats onto the bed. "I'm listening, but make it quick. I've hired a traveling magician to entertain us tonight and he's promised to teach me a card trick so I can perform. Kara will be impressed, don't you think?" He perched on the edge of the bed, on top of the two new coats.
Kara's hairbrush lay on the table beside the bed, and for a moment Ian couldn't take his eyes off it.
"Well?" Harry asked, crossing his arms across his chest. "What is it?"
Ian took a deep breath, dragging his gaze from the hairbrush. He chose his words carefully. "With your permission, I would like to take my leave, my lord."
"Take your leave?" The young man wrinkled his nose. "Of my chamber?"
"Nae! Not your chamber. Dunnane!" Ian took another deep breath. He couldn't lose his temper. Not with the boy. Not over this. "Aye," he said more quietly. "I'd like to go to my land holdings to the north. Stay the summer there. Perhaps the winter."
Harry rose off the bed. One of the coats slipped to the floor, but he paid it no mind. "Take your leave of Dunnane?" he questioned incredulously. "Take your leave of me?"
He said it in such a way that Ian felt only two feet tall. His brother spoke as if even the mere suggestion was a betrayal.
"You are doing well on your own. And you have your cousin Dungald—"
"Dungald!" Harry spit. "Do you know that Dungald ordered men—my men—not to assist my wife whilst we were gone?" He threw up one hand. "I've yet to figure out how I'm to deal with that matter."
Ian felt like a young boy being scolded. He stared at Harry's feet, wishing he were anywhere but here. Wishing he'd kept his mouth shut. Wishing he'd kept his mouth off the mouth of his brother's wife.
"I am not an idiot, Ian, that I do not know the game my dear cousin plays."
"We don't know for sure—"
"No, we don't know for sure!" Harry snapped, approaching him.
Ian stared at his own boots. He felt so torn. His allegiance was to his brother. Didn't Harry understand that it was for that sense of duty that he wanted to go? That he must go.
Of course, Harry didn't know that because Harry didn't know how his brother felt about his wife. Harry didn't know about the stolen kisses last night. He didn't know that secretly Ian lusted for his wife.
"I know that Dungald is next in line to Dunnane should I die," Harry continued. "I know that a part of him wants this land for his own. A part of him that might be willing to harm me or mine to have land."
"As I said, we have no proof," Ian said lamely. He felt like an ass. Like a traitor. It was true; they had no proof. Harry had no factual reason to send his cousin Dungald from his service. But he had plenty of reasons to hold him suspect.
Harry rubbed at his eyes. Ian could have sworn he saw tears. "I cannot do this alone, Ian. Please don't leave me."
"Harry—"
"Nae." Again he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. But this time his tone was firm. "Nae. Permission denied. You will not take your leave. You will not return to your holdings. You will remain at Dunnane and assist me until I decide you are no longer needed." He paused. For an instant he had sounded like a true heir of Dunnane. "I have that authority, don't I?"
Ian turned away. He felt his heart sink in his chest, then rise in his throat until it threatened to choke him. "Ye have that authority, my lord."
Harry followed him into the hall. "Please understand. I want to make my father proud. You, our mother, Kara. I want to do what is right. I want to serve as a good and fair lord over these lands. But I can't do it alone." He beseeched with a hand much smaller than Ian's. "Please don't hate me."
Ian halted at the top of the winding staircase. "I don't hate you."
"If there's anything I can give you to make you happier here... coin? I have plenty of money. Cattle? Tell me what it is."
Your wife, Ian thought. Can you give me your wife?
He didn't say it, of course. He wouldn't hurt Harry like that. He wouldn't betray Kara like that. But the thought hung in his mind just the same. It prevented him from thinking clearly. From knowing what he would do now.
To remain here within these walls with Kara so near. To see her, but not touch her. He didn't know if it was humanly possible for him to resist his desire for her. He didn't know if he could keep himself from making love to his brother's wife.
"No, Harry," he said quietly when he had found his voice. "There's nothing I want. Only to serve you. I apologize. I didn't realize what I was saying."
Harry pressed his hand to Ian's back. "I want you to be happy, brother. I want you and Kara to be happy. I would do anything to see you two happy."
If the boy only knew what he said.
"I must change for supper. Mother will be waiting."
Harry lowered his hand. "So it's settled. You're not leaving me. You'll never leave me."
Ian started down the tower steps. "Nae. I'll not leave you, little brother," he said beneath his breath. "Not so long as your Lady Dunnane draws breath."
Chapter 10
"How dare you give such an order," Ian hissed.
Dungald took a step back into the shadows of the empty corridor.
Ian had waited for Harry's cousin outside his chambers. Everyone had gone to the great hall for the evening meal, or was busy serving there. There was no one near to hear or see them.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Dungald took another step back, pressing his back to the wall.
"The hell you don't." Ian slammed the wall with the palm of his hand, striking it just to the left of Dungald's ear.
Dungald flinched and threw up his hand as if to deflect Ian's blow should he attempt to strike him.
"I'm certain there's been a miscommunication," Dungald said.
Ian stepped closer, throwing back his shoulders, knowing he was intimidating the man. Wanting to intimidate him.
Ian was angry with himself over the situation he had gotten himself into with Kara. But after he'd found out what Dungald had done, how he had endangered Harry and Kara, his anger now bordered on rage.
"Miscommunication, my ass." Ian ground his teeth. "You knew Harry would ride after us."
"I knew no such—"
Again Ian struck the wall just by Dungald's ear and the man fell silent.
"And you knew that Kara would go after him."
"I was merely considering her ladyship's safety."
Ian leaned down, his face close to Dungald's, so close that he could smell the fear on his breath. "These excuses might work with the boy, but they won't with me. I know what you did and I know why. Were I a betting man, I might even wager that you suggested to your cousin that he follow us after we rode out."
Dungald opened his mouth as if he intended to protest, but the look in Ian's eyes must have frightened him into silence again.
"I'm warning ye, Dungald. I catch wind of any more of your antics and you'll be banished to the northern isles with no one but the
seagulls to warm your bed."
Dungald's eyes narrowed. "You can't do that. You can't send me from here. I have a right to live in this castle. I'm a Gordon. My uncle was the Earl of Dunnane before that boy. You, you—you're nothing," he spit.
Ian almost smiled as he tightened his hands into fists at his sides. In the mood he was in right now, he had a mind to kill Dungald here and be done with him. He could choke him, maybe slit his throat and dispose of the body before anyone knew he was missing. Who would go looking for him? Who would care if he rotted in some remote ravine? Then the threat to Harry and his seat would be gone. One less thing for Ian to lie awake at night worrying over.
The thought was tempting.
Ian flexed his fingers and closed them into fists again.
Tempting, indeed. It wouldn't be the first time these stones had witnessed cold-blooded murder. Nor the last, he'd wager.
"If I tell Harry to send ye away, away ye shall go," Ian said softly, stepping back.
"You have no proof I've done anything wrong. The boy won't banish me. He likes me. I've brought back one of the reivers. One of the thieves who stole his cattle."
Ian's expression changed. "You caught one of them?"
Dungald slid along the wall in the direction of the great hall, his back and palms against the cold stone. He broke into a grin when he was far enough away that Ian couldn't reach him without taking several steps. "Caught one. Nae, even better than that."
Ian watched Dungald make a hasty retreat.
With that matter taken care of, at least for the time being, knew he now had to make an appearance in the great hall. Right now that was the last place he wanted to be.
* * *
"He wanted to what?" Kara unintentionally raised her voice.
They were seated in the great hall at the dais. The evening meal was just being served.
"He wanted to go to his land. Land his father left to him." Harry waved his fork. "Somewhere up north. I don't know exactly where."
Kara swallowed the lump in her throat. Because of me? she wondered. Was it because of me?
Of course it was.
Highland Bride Page 9
