A Hellish Highlander (Clan Ross Book 3)

by Hildie McQueen

  She shifted and he became aware of her soft curves touching him. Her bottom was against his sex and he gritted his teeth at the reaction it caused. She smelled fresh; a sweet fragrance like that of flowers or fruit.

  It must be the soap she made.

  Unable to keep from it, he sniffed her hair.

  “Did ye just smell my hair?” She threw him a piercing look over her shoulder. “Stop sniffing me.”

  “Then ye should not keep flinging it about,” he snapped. “Twice, yer hair has blown across my face.”

  She grabbed the loose tendrils and pulled them in front of her shoulder. “Ye may come to my stand and choose a soap or two for yer trouble.”

  “I am not planning to return to yer village.”

  She shrugged. “Then I am unable to repay ye.”

  “Will the Munro allow ye in?” Kieran studied the keep gates as they grew closer. The gates were closed and guards stood watch.

  The lass did the same, craning her neck to look up. The action made her lean back against his chest. “My late father and the laird are brothers…” she left off and sighed. “I am a Munro.”

  Kieran remained silent, not wishing to continue conversing, instead becoming anxious for her to be gone. Every moment that passed, he was beginning to wish she’d not move away. That her soft body would continue to remain between his thighs, her bottom pressed against his sex and her back against his chest.

  It was a natural reaction, of course. It had little to do with her. Whoever this niece of the Munro was, she was a nuisance and nothing more.

  As they arrived at the gates, once again she leaned against him and looked up. “Tis me, Gisela Munro. Allow me in.”

  “Who are ye?” A guard pointed at Kieran.

  “I am Kieran Ross. I am not entering,” he shouted back.

  “Open the gates!” the guard called down.

  “Down with ye,” Kieran said as he took her by the waist.

  Gisela swung her leg around and allowed him to lower her. She peered up at him. “Thank ye.” Her upper lip curved just a bit. “This almost redeems ye for the horrible remark ye made the last time our paths crossed.”

  “Kieran Ross.” A man stood just inside the gates. Whoever he was, he ignored Gisela as she raced past him and headed to the house. “Ye must come and speak to my father.”

  Kieran didn’t recognize the man and he started to make an excuse for the offer and turn away.

  Then he recalled an archery competition. The man, Caylen Munro, the laird’s second born, had been one of his fiercest competitors. Unfortunately, he was also a pompous ass.

  “I must go. I have duties at our northern guard post.”

  “A messenger came and left word for ye,” the man persisted while turning and allowing his gaze to follow Gisela as she made her way into the house. “Seems yer family was a wee bit delayed.”

  Irritated at a second interruption, Kieran dismounted and stalked into the courtyard, pulling Laith forward. When lads hurried over to look after the horse, he stopped. “Ensure ye keep his saddle where I can find it. He will be grateful for water and oats.”

  Caylen walked alongside Kieran, making absolutely no effort to show his impatience. “I must go see about something,” Caylen said and hesitated upon them entering the great room. His gaze scanned the room until he found Gisela, who spoke with an older woman.

  “I do not require escort,” Kieran replied, not liking at all how Caylen ogled Gisela. However, he had no claim on the woman and perhaps the two knew each other and had plans.

  A servant neared and Caylen waved toward a corridor. “Escort him to see my father.” The man then hurried toward where Gisela was standing.

  “I am Kieran Ross,” Kieran told the confused servant.

  Laird Munro was a short man with a bushy beard and a loud voice. The few times Kieran had met him, he’d always seemed in good spirits. Although it was interesting to note that the Munro was known for overindulging in drink, the man seemed a fair sort.

  “Ah, Kieran, the youngest of the Ross brothers,” Laird Munro exclaimed as Kieran entered the room. “I did not expect ye to arrive for another day or so.” He motioned for Kieran to come closer. “Yer brother, Tristan, was here last. He is a good negotiator. I have yet to see yer eldest brother, Malcolm. I know taking over as laird is taxing, but he needs to make sure to meet with other lairds.”

  Kieran opened his mouth to speak, but the laird continued. “One must ensure relationships are formed and remain strong. Tell him that.”

  “I am in a hurry…”

  “Oh, I bet. The warm weather makes it a perfect time to attend festivities. We plan one tonight, for which ye will be an honored guest.” The laird went to a side table and poured whisky into cups. “Tis good to have guests arrive already. Ye will be glad ye came. There is much to celebrate.”

  Kieran wasn’t sure how to respond, so he took the drink and scowled into it. “I cannot remain…”

  “Yes, of course. I apologize for not getting to the point. A messenger came to let us know that yer party would be delayed and that ye would come ahead of them.” The laird looked around Kieran. “Archers…more are with ye, aye?”

  “They follow and will be here by tomorrow.”

  “Perfect,” the man boomed. “Just in time for the competition. Tis always good to have men with skills such as yers to get my archers to do their best.”

  Confused and barely able to keep from rudely telling the man to tell him the message, Kieran nodded. “What else did the messenger state?”

  The laird scratched his beard. “The lad is here. Somewhere.”

  “Who?”

  “The messenger, of course,” Laird Munro laughed. “A wee, thin lad. Probably in the kitchen eating.”

  Unable to keep from glowering, Kieran swallowed down the drink. “If someone would show me the way to the kitchens…”

  “We shall discuss the competition at last meal,” the laird said, walking out of the room with Kieran. “Clan Mackenzie is also sending a group of archers. Although I must admit, they have relied on numbers too long and, individually, they are not much of a threat when competing.”

  His back teeth hurt from grinding down so hard. Did the man ever stop talking long enough to hear others? “Caylen told me there was a delay in my family arriving.”

  “Oh, aye. The messenger said they would arrive in two or three days, which I suppose is later than was expected.”

  It was not a delay, but the original travel plans. Kieran wanted to hit a wall with his fist. Now he was trapped. If he declined the laird’s invitation to remain and continued on his trek, it would be a great insult to the clan his family was about to unite with.

  Once he spoke to the messenger to ensure there wasn’t any other news, he would find Gisela. The woman would know how much of a problem she was turning out to be.

  Because of bringing her to the keep, his plans were ruined.

  Chapter Two

  “Mother, we should return to the village. Tis obvious Laird Munro and his family have much to attend to and no time for us,” Gisela repeated for what seemed the twentieth time.

  “Caylen Munro seems quite taken by ye,” her mother said with a giggle. “And he did insist we remain. It would be rude to leave.”

  It was more than obvious to Gisela that the only thing Caylen Munro was interested in was someone warming his bed. The man had no intentions of marrying anytime soon. The well-known rogue had a reputation for ruining many a lass in the village. Not only was he without scruples, in Gisela’s opinion, but also not the sort she would ever desire in a husband.

  Gisela leaned into her mother’s ear. “Why would I wish to marry a man that has tupped every girl in the village? Besides, he is my cousin.”

  “Oh, Gisela, ye do not know that for sure. People tend to exaggerate when the laird’s handsome son is in question.”

  Instead of arguing, she tugged at her mother’s hand. “I am leaving. Do ye wish to come with me or not?”
/>
  “Oh, goodness,” her mother stammered, her mouth falling open and her eyes opening wide. “Is he an apparition? Truly, that man is not of this earth.”

  Immediately, Gisela knew whom her mother spoke of. She’d thought Kieran Ross would have left by now. Her initial reaction to him had been the same but, thankfully, she’d recovered by the time he’d stopped at her stand. While he’d strolled through the town square, everyone in the village had gawked, much like her mother did at the moment. Then he’d stopped at her humble stand, looked at her soaps, picked one up and sniffed and then another. Finally, his gaze lifted to hers and he held out coins. “I will take two. How much extra for a few moments of yer time?”

  Without thinking of any consequence, she’d slapped him across the face so hard her palm had stung. To make matters worse, her nails had cut into his skin, leaving an angry red cut. Both she and he had been stunned silent for a few moments.

  Expecting a man who was obviously highborn to hit her back, or worse drag her away by the hair, every person in the square watched with ill-concealed curiosity.

  Later, Gisela would recall that a couple of men had stood at the ready to defend her, if it came to it.

  He’d let out a breath, his cheek turning crimson. “I apologize,” he’d said.

  Apologies did not undo the lack of respect. She’d thrown the coins to the ground.

  At the moment, everyone in the room tracked his every step. In a way, Gisela felt bad for him. It had to be a burden to attract so much attention no matter where he went.

  Much like her mother, every other person in the room followed Kieran Ross’ every movement. The conversation in the room dimmed and many craned their necks to get another look as he stalked across the room.

  “He seems to be coming to speak to ye.” Her mother’s breathless words made Gisela cringe.

  “I certainly hope not.”

  Kieran’s hazel eyes pinned her with a not too friendly glare and Gisela looked up to the ceiling to let him know he did not intimidate her. In truth, the effect he had on her was much like she imagined he had on every woman he came across. She’d die before ever admitting it to him.

  Kieran Ross was perfection. He was tall with broad shoulders, muscular and yet graceful, a body that promised to be as alluring as his face. Golden waves fell just above his shoulders, the unruly locks only adding to his attraction.

  On this day, he wore a simple tunic over brown breeches that molded to his muscular legs. On his feet, he wore weathered boots.

  Gisela lifted an eyebrow in question when he neared. “I thought ye were in a hurry to leave.”

  “Gisela!” her mother gasped. “Do not be ill-mannered.”

  “I was.” Kieran’s words came out between clenched teeth. “But ye ruined it.”

  “Me?” Gisela glared at him. “What did I do?”

  “I am Lillian Munro, Gisela’s mother,” her mother interrupted, holding her hand out palm down. “And ye are?”

  Taken by surprise, Kieran looked to her mother and took her hand. He did not kiss it. Instead, he gave a slight bow. “Kieran Ross.”

  “Oh, of course,” her mother continued as if they were at a social gathering. “Yer sister is to marry Patrick, the eldest son of the Munro.”

  Kieran nodded, irritation and impatience evident to everyone but her mother. Gisela fought the urge to grin at his discomfort. Although he’d been kind to bring her there, it did not excuse him speaking to her in an angry tone. If he’d come there, it was because of his sister’s wedding. Obviously, he was expected to remain.

  “Did ye not plan to attend yer sister’s wedding?” Gisela asked as he tugged her toward a corner of the room. “Where are we going?”

  He looked around once they were out of her mother’s earshot. “Why are ye here? I thought it was a matter of life or death.”

  “It is…well, almost,” Gisela’s chest constricted. “I cannot leave my mother alone. She plans to ask the Munro to marry me off.”

  The flat gaze he gave her made Gisela want to smack him. “Is that all?”

  “The rest of my life will be affected. It is very crucial that we stop her.”

  “We?” He snorted air out of his nose. “Be with care.” Kieran started to walk away but her mother intercepted his path.

  “Are ye in search of a wife, Kieran Ross?” She pronounced his name while looking over him as if he were a delicacy on a platter.

  If only the ground would open up and swallow her, Gisela would be grateful at that moment.

  “He is not.”

  “I am not.”

  Both spoke at the same time and exchanged matching narrow-eyed looks.

  When Lady Munro came toward them, Gisela searched for a way to escape. However, at the moment, perhaps it was best to remain and ensure her mother did not do anything that would prove irreparable.

  She could not marry him.

  Like every woman there, Gisela realized he was breathtakingly handsome, the most attractive man she’d ever seen. However, marriage to a man who looked like Kieran Ross would mean putting up with other women constantly ogling him. Besides, he didn’t seem at all the marrying type, much too broody or angry.

  Lady Munro stopped when Kieran bowed at her and a smile split her face. “I just learned ye are here. I will arrange for a bedchamber.” The woman stopped speaking and looked to Gisela’s mother.

  “Goodness, Lillian, I was not aware ye were here,” Lady Munro gushed and returned her attention to Kieran. “We have much to do to prepare for yer sister’s arrival.”

  Her mother took the opportunity to secure an invitation. “It is precisely why we came, to help where we can. We are family after all.”

  Lady Munro and her mother were much alike. Both acted half their age and talked nonstop. “How wonderful,” Lady Munro replied and looked to Gisela. “And to bring my niece as well.”

  No. No. No. It could not be happening. Gisela looked to Kieran who started to walk away toward the front door.

  “I cannot possibly stay. I’d only be in the way…” Gisela started.

  “Ye should stay,” Kieran said.

  Gisela fought not to glare at him. Why did he remain there? Surely he had things to tend to. “Should ye not look after yer horse or something?”

  “Of course ye will remain here. There is plenty of room.” Lady Munro motioned to the already overfilled space. “I am sure…” she finished weakly, seeming to notice for the first time how overcrowded the great room was. “Goodness, who are all these people?”

  She headed off in a hurry.

  When Gisela turned to see what Kieran was doing, he was already near the front door. She eyed the doorway, considering that perhaps with so many people about, it would be easy to make an escape.

  “Do not think about leaving. Ye heard Lady Munro. She requires our assistance.”

  “I am sure she does not,” Gisela told her mother.

  A loud banging got everyone’s attention. A man she recognized as a member of the council stood at the high board hitting a metal plate with a spoon. “Everyone must go. The room has to be prepared for a family gathering. If ye require anything of Laird Munro, he will be hearing ye outside in the side courtyard.”

  Slowly, the people began dispersing. Gisela grabbed her mother’s arm. “Ye heard the man. Let us go.”

  Her mother was stronger than expected as she fought Gisela’s tugs to the doorway. “Surely he did not mean us,” Lillian argued.

  Gisela managed to tug her mother to the door. Once outside, her mother hurried to a group of four women who spoke animatedly. Upon nearing, her mother immediately began speaking to them, her hands motioning to Gisela. The women looked to her with approval, nodding and smiling.

  Afraid to be drawn in to the conversation, but needing to fetch her mother, Gisela walked to the group.

  “…too handsome for words.”

  “…have never seen such a face.”

  “…notice how he walked?”

  It was o
bvious whom they spoke of. One of the women looked to her and grinned. “By the way he looked at ye, he has courting in mind.”

  Another woman fanned her face. “Have ye kissed the beautiful man?”

  “Mother…” Gisela wasn’t sure what to say, so she took her mother’s hand. “We should leave. There is much to tend to.”

  They walked a few feet away and, once again, her mother stopped. “Why are ye being so difficult? I worry about ye, Gisela. Alone in the forest, anything could happen. What about when that horrible man came and left ye for dead.”

  Her mother was right in that the experience had been horrific. Just a few days earlier, a mad man had barged in and held her captive overnight. When she’d fought off his advances, he’d shoved her to the ground, knocking her unconscious. Although he’d not taken advantage of her, it could have easily happened.

  Gisela shuddered at recalling the incident. “I know, Mother, that is why I am staying with ye until I come up with a solution.”

  “Marriage is the solution,” her mother insisted. “Ye are almost past the age for it. Soon, no man will have ye as it will be hard for ye to carry bairns.”

  “I wish to marry a man of my choice.” Gisela met her mother’s gaze, hoping her plea worked. “Please, Mother.”

  Her mother turned to the courtyard, which was emptying as people left. “Then choose and do so quickly. I will be speaking to the laird. As yer uncle, he is responsible for finding ye a good husband.”

  Gisela sighed. “Very well.”

  It was best to agree with her mother. Otherwise, Lillian would dig her heels in and become overzealous in whatever her mind was set on.

  “That is a good girl. Now, how about him?” Her mother pointed to a man preparing his horse. He appeared to be about thirty and he looked like he was in a hurry.

  “He is the farmer who lives just outside the village. He has a wife and several bairns. Do ye not recognize him?”

  Her mother leaned forward, squinting. “Oh, aye. Now I do. I do not care for his wife.”

  “Mother!” Gisela waited to make eye contact. “I promise to find a suitable husband. But give me at least two days to do so.”