Highland Spitfire

by Mary Wine

  Tonight, they felt empty.

  Well, he’d asked her to come to him. That wasn’t the same as promising her he wouldn’t seek her out.

  Ye’ll wait.

  He scoffed at his own reprimand, but turned and pulled off his shirt.

  Aye, he would wait, because if he didn’t, he’d never know if she truly wanted him. He’d never realized what a burden it would be to have a dutiful wife. It was surprising to find himself reluctant to take advantage of the rights the law afforded him.

  He didn’t want her that way.

  The memory of her sitting on the edge of the bed in their bridal chamber roused only his temper.

  He’d never had a woman who didn’t want him, and the few who had sought him out with schemes brewing behind their smiles were the ones he felt only contempt for.

  The memory of the stable made him grin.

  It also stirred his member.

  He turned away from the door.

  Aye, ye’ll wait…

  Ailis would be worth it.

  * * *

  The bells along the walls started ringing at noon. It was a frantic call to arms. Ailis came out of the kitchen storeroom, along with the rest of the women. Retainers flooded the walls of the castle, some of them loading black-powder muskets.

  Marcus was mounting his horse, the animal dancing in a circle in response to the flurry of activity in the yard. He spun around and then turned back to look at her.

  “Get yer charge inside the keep and make sure she stays there,” he ordered Finley.

  Bhaic was already riding out of the gate, MacPherson retainers close on his heels. The sound of hooves was deafening. Fear pierced her heart.

  Was it Lye Rob Gordon?

  Perhaps another clan that had a feud with the MacPhersons?

  There was no way to know. Her only option was to wait.

  “Come along, mistress,” Finley admonished her. “Do nae make me pick ye up.”

  She’d forgotten about her ever-diligent escort. Today it was Finley and Skene. They were frowning, and started walking toward her. She must move or be run over.

  They forced her up into the keep with their arms spread wide. She turned around when she made it there, picking up her skirts and hurrying up the stairs to her chambers.

  “Where are ye going, woman?”

  She didn’t pay Finley any mind, but went to the windows to see if she could see anything. Her chambers faced out over the lake, frustrating her.

  Well, Bhaic’s chamber overlooked the land bridge so he might keep an eye on anyone approaching the castle. She brushed past Finley as he gained the landing outside her chambers and headed up to the fourth floor.

  “What’s got into ye, woman?”

  She only hesitated for a moment before opening the door and pushing it in. A tiny shiver crossed her skin as she strode into Bhaic’s domain. She went across the receiving room and stood at the window. In the distance, she could see the MacPherson retainers. Marcus and Bhaic marked by pennant bearers behind them.

  What made her gasp was the sight of her father’s pennant flying. Her brother Duncan was riding with him too. Her blood ran cold, horror nearly choking her.

  Stop! Ye do nae know why they are here.

  That was true enough. She watched them as time crawled past. At last, the MacPhersons turned and stared heading back into the castle. Ailis felt her jaw drop as her father and brother followed.

  Robertsons riding into the MacPherson castle.

  She had to see it with her own eyes.

  Still, she had to blink and force herself to believe what was right before her.

  She dashed past Finley and Skene, holding up her skirts as she charged down the stairs.

  “Now just wait for us!” She was already on the first floor by the time Finley’s voice came down the tower to her. She ended up in the huge double doorway of the keep, panting from running, before Lyel stepped into her path and stopped her like a wall. She ran right into him and bounced back.

  “Ye’ll be staying here, mistress,” he told her sternly.

  Finley and Skene came barreling up behind her. They reached out and grabbed her arms.

  “Are ye mad?” she hissed at them.

  “Marcus’s orders…”

  She drew in a deep breath and made sure her tone was civil. She looked at Finley, trying to draw on the trust she’d been building with him.

  “Me father is riding through the gate,” she informed him smoothly. “Do ye really care to have him seeing ye yanking me about like a goat? Or for me to be nowhere in sight, so he can imagine the worst about me circumstances? Three generations of feud will likely take his thoughts to a very dark place.”

  “Yer father?”

  Ailis jerked her head toward the gate.

  Finley looked up, his eyebrows rising at the sight of Robertsons filling the yard.

  “Fuck me,” he muttered.

  He wasn’t the only one cussing. Or crossing themselves. MacPherson retainers hissed at the women to get back, but some of them were too frozen with shock to move. Her brother cleared the gate and found her. Duncan had the family blond hair, but his eyes were a light green color. His expression was stern as he swept her from head to toe. He was off his horse and moving up the stairs to stand in front of her before she really accepted that her kin were there.

  “Sister.”

  He pulled her close, but it wasn’t really a welcome hug. “Are ye well? Tell me the truth,” he whispered against her ear.

  Bhaic was suddenly there, close enough to hear what Duncan was whispering.

  “I do nae mistreat women,” Bhaic insisted.

  Duncan released her and pushed her behind him. “I’ll be hearing what me sister has to say on the matter, MacPherson. Make no mistake about that. If me father had nae sent me out to deal with some bastard Gordons, I would have been there to deal with the Earl of Morton and prevent this marriage.”

  Bhaic chuckled darkly. “There was a time I would have risen to that bait, Robertson.”

  Duncan pushed closer to Bhaic, clearly spoiling for a fight. She started to step between them, but Bhaic captured her wrist and held her back, turning slightly and pulling her behind him. Duncan didn’t miss it. Her brother’s eye narrowed with rage.

  “And there ye see the reason why this marriage happened,” Bhaic explained in a low tone. “Yer sister is more levelheaded than either of us. I offered me chest to the earl’s marksmen, but she wasn’t willing to see her father hanged when there was something she could do to prevent it. Even wed me. She shamed me well with the way she put the good of both our clansmen above her own preferences.”

  “Ye can bet ye were no’ her choice for husband.”

  “Stop bickering,” she said.

  Her brother’s gaze settled on the dark spot on her jaw, marking where Duana had slapped her.

  “He was rough with ye,” Duncan growled menacingly.

  “He was no’.”

  But Bhaic turned around and looked at her jawline, his lips pressing into a hard line.

  “Duncan,” her father called from where he was standing in the yard. “Bring yer sister down here where I can see her.”

  “Better ye come into the hall,” Marcus said.

  Her father shook his head. “I’ve come farther than ever I thought to in this life, but I will no’ be going into yer keep. I told ye, I’m here to see me daughter with me own eyes and make sure ye MacPhersons do nae have any reason to be saying she did nae arrive suitably outfitted as a bride should be.”

  Her father aimed the last part of his answer toward the yard where every doorway was filled with curious onlookers.

  Ailis looked behind her father and realized there was a wagon. Marcus had his men helping to unload
several trunks. She was grateful and yet at the same time, her breath got caught in her throat, because she realized her father had accepted her marriage.

  Inside those trunks would be all of her possessions. While it would be wonderful to have her clothing, she was fairly certain she was going to cry when she looked at the pearl necklace her mother had left her, and her father had safeguarded for the day she wed.

  Duncan reached out and took hold of her arm. Bhaic glowered, clearly didn’t care for the way her brother was taking charge of her.

  “Ye have something to say, MacPherson?” Duncan asked.

  “Ye’d like that, would ye nae?” Bhaic shot back. “Seems ye’re in the mood to stir up something, alright.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Ailis hissed beneath her breath so her words didn’t carry. “Have done, ye two. Ye will nae undo what good has been done. Duncan, I am fine. Me husband”—she used the word on purpose—“has nae laid a hand on me that I did nae enjoy.”

  She shook off her brother’s hold and shot Bhaic a hard look. “I am going to see me father. Ye should come as well and greet yer father-by-marriage.”

  Bhaic didn’t care for the tone of her voice, but he stepped out of her path. Duncan made a noise under his breath that she snorted at. Bhaic stiffened but remained by her side as she went down the steps and into the yard.

  “Marcus is correct. Ye are a spitfire,” Bhaic said under his breath.

  “Thank ye.”

  He choked back his amusement.

  It was harder than she’d thought to see her father. Tears tried to sting her eyes, but she blinked them away.

  “There’s me lass…” Her father peered at her and frowned. “And ye have the nerve to tell me I did nae need to bring along her things? Me daughter is wearing the dress she left home in…a week later!”

  Shamus MacPherson turned to look at her. “Well now, me daughter is nae home, and what would men know of such things? The lass might have spoken up.”

  “Ye’ve got a Head of House, do ye no’?” Duncan demanded. “If she were worthy of her position, she’d no’ need to be told how to look after her mistress.”

  A ripple of conversation went through those watching. Many of the women looked at the ground out of shame.

  “Maybe the lass has nae needed much clothing.” Shamus puffed his chest out. “Any lass wedded to a MacPherson does nae.”

  “That’s me daughter,” her father insisted crossly, “so mind how ye talk about her.”

  “Oh, stop it,” Ailis said, trying to end their argument. “As if ye have nae said something as…colorful about weddings before, Father.”

  Her father suddenly grinned and reached out to slap Bhaic on the shoulder. “Ye’ll have yer work cut out for ye with me daughter. She’s got spirit.”

  “That’s the truth,” Marcus said.

  Duncan snarled softly at Marcus.

  Bhaic stuck his hand out. Her father looked at it for a long moment. His gaze shifted back to her, sweeping her from head to toe before he clasped Bhaic’s hand. A ripple went through those watching. Heads nodded; expressions eased. Surprise brightened Duncan’s eyes before his complexion darkened slightly with guilt.

  Duncan offered Bhaic his hand. The two stared at each other for only a moment before they clasped wrists.

  Her father turned to her. “Now come and kiss yer father. I’ve got to get going. The sun is nae going to wait for me, and I will sleep better closer to me own land.”

  She went to his embrace, feeling as if a live coal had somehow gotten caught in her chest. Her father folded her in his arms, squeezing her before he sniffed and pulled away.

  “Alright, me lads! Let’s take ourselves home and prove we can go through MacPherson land without spilling blood. More than one wager is going to be lost over it, for certain. I think I’m going to enjoy knowing I am nae so old I can nae learn a new trick.”

  Duncan helped her father up onto the back of his horse before he took a moment to stare at her.

  She was sure it was the hardest thing she’d ever done to look him straight back in the eye and smile. He nodded and mounted.

  “But mind ye”—her father turned his horse around and looked at Shamus—“I’ll be expecting me son-in-law there to be bringing me daughter home for a visit in a few weeks. Seeing as how I’ve come out here first to prove me commitment to this…peace.”

  It was a challenge. Cast down right there in the yard. Ailis couldn’t help but be proud of her father for his brazen tenacity. It made her smile as they turned and left.

  Her emotions started to boil though as she watched the last of her clansmen disappear. The MacPhersons were clustered around one another, talking intently about what had just happened. Shamus had both his sons near him.

  Which left her standing alone.

  Although on display might be a better description.

  People looked at her, pointing, nodding—obviously discussing her. For certain, no one stuck in the pillory had ever endured more scrutiny.

  She backed away from it. Retreating into the keep. But that allowed her only to walk into a wall of women, all waiting to see what had happened. The suspicion in their gazes broke the hold she had on her feelings. Despair clawed its way up from where she’d locked it away on May Day.

  Now, there was no way to shield herself from it. The tears she’d blinked away began spilling down her cheeks as she fled toward the stairs to hide her lack of composure.

  Somehow, she ended up back in Bhaic’s rooms, pressing against the window to gain the last glimpse of her kin. She didn’t hear Bhaic arrive, but he was suddenly there, embracing her.

  She shifted, shamed by her wet cheeks.

  “Easy, lass…” he cooed against her head, tucking it beneath his chin.

  She wanted to be stronger.

  But fate hadn’t been in the mood lately to grant her what she wanted.

  Her tears fell, her breathing rough. “I’m sorry… I do nae know why I came here…”

  She pushed away from his hold, wiping her eyes hastily on her sleeve before she turned to find her way to the door.

  “I’ve been waiting for ye to come here, Ailis. Ye know that.” There was a trace of promise in his tone.

  She recalled it all too clearly from the night in the stairwell.

  Behind him, his bed was lit with the rays of the afternoon sun.

  “Somehow, I do nae think this is the circumstance ye were hoping for.”

  He chuckled, smoothing his hand down her arm. “Maybe because I’m new to being a husband. I’ve never had much dealing with women beyond…well…”

  She slapped him on the shoulder, but since she was in his embrace, the blow lacked any real power. “I know what ye mean.”

  He tipped her chin up, but his gaze moved to the dark spot on her jaw. “I’m going to have words with Duana.”

  “Ye will no’. It’s me house and me place to see to the running of it.”

  “And ye are me wife, Ailis,” he countered. “I should be making it clear I agree with this union. Ye were right to wed me. Shamed me properly for no’ thinking beyond what me father taught me of yer clan. Yer brother saw it just now.”

  “Aye. For the first time, I believe.” She clung to the victory of that truth.

  Bhaic stroked her cheek with the back of his hand. “Ye’re a woman to be reckoned with, but Duana is taking advantage of yer tender heart. I aim to put a stop to that.”

  “I will do it in me own way and time,” she insisted.

  He wasn’t going to allow her to sway him, but she dug her fingers into his kilt when he started to move away. His outer belt popped. Startled, Ailis released the fabric, and the wide belt slithered to the floor.

  The sound of it hitting the floor made her eyes go wide.

 
Had she really just…undressed him?

  “Well now, that’s one way to win the argument,” he said with a husky chuckle. “Taking me clothes off. Maybe ye’re the spitfire Marcus claims ye are.”

  “I am not biddable,” she admitted, “especially when I am dealing with pigheadedness.”

  His eyes narrowed as he contemplated her. “In that case, I need to make sure ye do nae find me too weak willed to handle ye.”

  He reached out and caught the lace holding her bodice closed. With a sharp tug, he opened the knot and pulled the lace free with his fingers from the first two eyelets.

  “There,” he said smugly. “Now ye see that I am no’ too weak willed to face the challenge ye present.”

  “Oh?” She tugged on the front of his doublet, freeing several of his buttons. She almost stopped, but undid two more for good measure. “I like me challenges far more intense.”

  It was a ridiculous battle, but she was enjoying it too much to stop.

  “Well now, I would nae care to see ye disappointed.”

  He reached out with both hands and pulled the lace through her eyelets with quick motions. She ended up reaching around and finishing off his buttons. Her bodice sagged open at the same time his doublet did. Bhaic shrugged out of it, letting it drop to the floor, and faced off with her in his shirt.

  She hesitated, feeling the air against her breasts through her thin chemise.

  Dare she continue?

  “Come, lassie…” He tapped the button on his shirt. “Finish what ye started.”

  It was tempting.

  Far better than waiting for him to decide when to claim her.

  She reached out and opened the button, and then another. Bhaic was slowly working the lace holding her skirt free. But he held her gaze. The passion shimmering in his eyes captivated her.

  “Kiss me.” Her voice was raspy and unsteady, her body starting to quiver. “Quiet me thoughts.”

  “It almost killed me to wait for ye to ask.” There was a harsh edge to his voice that made her shiver, and in his eyes a hint of the desire he’d been holding in check.

  He leaned down and kissed her with enough passion to send her thoughts scattering. She rose on her toes to get closer as he pushed her skirts down and over her hips. They puddled around her ankles as she went searching for the buckle on his second belt.