Removing her black cloak and draping it over one arm, she joined Coll. “I can sleep outside if needed. He does no’ need to find me a third room.”
“There isnae a chance I’ll allow you to sleep outside. I want you in the chamber next to mine, right where I’ll hear you if you attempt to leave. Duncan and Ella will take the third room once it’s been readied for them.”
“I had intended on sleeping outside had it no’ been for your arrival at my camp.”
“You desired the chase, Fiona. You knew I’d come for you.”
“If you’re referring to the chase of the mated bond, then aye, I will never deny that I invoked it.”
“There is no blasted”—he lowered his voice to a rough whisper—“bond. The chase I simply referred to was the one across my land to catch you afore some villain did.”
“If you could just admit the truth, then that would go halfway toward helping matters.” Huffing, she pushed a finger against his chest, one sleeve slipping from her shoulder. She went to open her mouth to argue her point further, only his gaze slid to her breasts and the gaping neckline of her gown. He gulped, his throat working hard as he gripped her sleeve and smoothed it back into place. Lifting his gaze back to hers, such a deep hunger swirled within, one which she wanted him to release, desperately. “Admit there’s a bond, Coll, and I’m all yours.”
“Enough.” He set a hand to the small of her back and ushered her across the room to the table in the far corner under the window. He pulled out the bench, pressed her shoulders until she sat then eased in beside her.
Duncan and Ella took the bench seat opposite them.
“Here ye are, my lovelies. This should slake your thirst.” A barmaid bounced in, a tray of tankards in hand, the dangerously low neckline of her blue kirtle almost causing her breasts to spill forth. The wench leaned in and gave Coll a rather stunning eyeful of her bountiful flesh and a flare of jealousy reared so swift and sharp within her.
Oh goodness. That jealousy would arise far stronger if she ever met his bride-to-be.
“Thank you, Edana.” Coll smiled at the hussy and she wanted to stab her.
“My laird, ’tis so good to see ye’ve returned.” In a near purr, the maid leaned in even farther. “One of the other maids will be out with your meals shortly, although you be sure to holler out if ye need aught more from me. I’ve willing hands for whatever task ye have need to put them to.”
“Go on with you.” Coll swatted her bottom and Edana squealed and bounced away to the next table.
“Your meals, my laird.” Another serving lass joined them with a platter of bannocks that had been baked and accompanied with wedges of cheese, while a second maid with an apron tied around her waist brought out a tray holding bowls of stew. The two young lasses passed one to each of them, laid out spoons and with bright smiles, whisked back to the kitchens.
Coll slid his dagger from its wrist sheath, sliced the bannocks and passed her a piece. “Eat and warm your belly.”
“Thank you,” she grumped, then stuck the flat bread in her mouth and tore off a bite. She picked up her spoon and dunked it into her stew, her current foul mood not one that had ever usually taken ahold of her to this degree, only being spurned by one’s mate hurt, badly.
“Are you all right?” Coll pressed his knee against her knee under the table as he spooned his own stew.
“Nay, I dinnae care for your continued denial, nor the attention you’ve always drawn from the maids, either now or in the past.”
“The lass was only being polite.”
“Aye, with her cleavage in your face and her coy promises of her willing hands. I noticed you didnae fix her neckline as you did mine.” Another tearing bite of bannock.
“I didnae notice her cleavage.” The scoundrel winked at Duncan, chuckled and continued to eat.
“Liar.” Good grief. Give her a fork and she’d stick it in him.
Thankfully she didn’t for what remained of their meal, instead allowing Duncan and Coll to chat on matters they’d yet to catch up on since Coll’s return. A little guilt rolled through her for that. She’d taken him away from his duties when he must have so much to do. Aye, like prepare himself for his wedding.
Ugh. She finished her stew, thumped her spoon down and stood. “Please excuse me. I’m tired and wish to rest.”
“Your chamber shall be the one right next to mine. Understood?” Coll scraped the bench back and rose to his full and towering height, the soft, faded brown leather of his pants molding his strong legs.
“Since you’ve made it clear that I’m no longer welcome at Carron, then you can hardly order me about by saying where I’ll sleep.” She couldn’t help but issue that challenge. “No matter what you say, I’ll sleep wherever I please.”
“Ardan is the best place for you right now.”
“So you say, and so I disagree.” She shuffled around the table, kissed Ella and Duncan’s cheeks and murmured a good night to them. A simpering lass she’d never be. With her cloak draped over her arm, she snatched up her satchel and basket and marched around the room toward the innkeeper where he stood speaking near the stairwell with a young maid of mayhap eight and ten and stopped next to him. “Excuse me, Gordon. There’s been a change in plans regarding the third chamber the laird requested.”
“That would be?”
“I’d like to sleep in the stables.” The hay would make a soft bed.
“I cannae send ye out there, lass.”
“Call me Fiona.”
“The laird would have my head.”
“Papa.” The maid tucked a loose strand of her brown hair behind her ear. “Mistress Fiona can sleep in my room with me if she prefers.”
Ahh, that would work too. She jumped on the maid’s helpful offer. “Thank you. I’d like that.”
“This is Mary, my eldest daughter.” Gordon laid a gentle hand on the lass’s shoulder. “Are ye certain, Mary?”
“Aye, Papa.”
“Mary’s room will be more than sufficient for my needs, and our laird will understand.”
“Then Mary’s room it shall be.” Her answer seemed to satisfy him and he nodded at his daughter. “Ye make Mistress Fiona welcome in your room.”
“Of course.”
The innkeeper strode away and Mary plucked a candle from its holder on the wall and ducked into the shadowed nook under the stairwell. She opened a door. Wood creaked as she disappeared downstairs into the darkened depths. “This way,” she called back.
“I’m coming.” She followed Mary down the cramped stairwell, her shoulders brushing the gritty stone walls and the top of her head almost scraping the low beamed ceiling. Cool air swirled about and she dragged in a breath as her heartbeat raced. Never had she been all that overly fond of extremely tight spaces, and particularly not after being cornered by Jeremiah within just such a cramped stairwell a mere few days after Matthew’s death at Rhue Castle.
Jeremiah had pushed her up against the wall late one night, his beady black eyes glinting in the candlelight flickering from an iron wall sconce. In her ear, he’d muttered, “Now Matthew is gone, your care falls to me.”
“Please, let me pass.” She’d tried to heave past him, only he’d shoved his hips against hers, his whiskey-laden breath washing over her and his lustful emotions dumping down hard.
“For years I’ve watched Coll’s fascination for you grow. He followed your every move within my father’s home. When you entered a room, I found myself doing so as well. You intrigue me. Why is it you married Matthew, a man castrated in his youth and still grieving deeply for his late wife? Surely he couldnae bring you any pleasure in the marriage bed without his cock to fill you up.” Smirking, he’d gripped her breasts with his grubby hands, his fingers biting deep through the woolen cloth of her gown.
“Please, dinnae soil Matthew’s good name in such a way.”
“Could it be the empath in you couldnae refuse his needs?”
“You’ve no right to touch me like th
is, Jeremiah.” She’d wanted to thrust her knee up and stab him in the groin, but without Matthew, her life lay in this man’s hands and right now, she couldn’t take the risk of angering Jeremiah any more than possible.
“I have no issue taking an unwilling lass, but with you I’d want more than just a rutting in a damp stairwell. I wish for a lover, and when I one day marry, for you to remain my leman. When I give you sons, they’ll be bastards, but I’ll see them want for naught all the same, just as I will with you.” He’d gripped her chin, his fingers and thumb digging in either side of her neck. “Your door will always remain open to me, and only me. Am I understood?”
“Are ye all right?” Peering up at her from the bottom step, Mary waited for her, the candlelight flickering across the damp stone walls, just as it had done that night six months ago at Rhue. This time though, no Jeremiah remained as a threat. She’d never return to his keep in the far north. Never.
“I simply have a dislike of confined spaces.” She forced the memory away and stepped in beside Mary. “Show me your room, if you will.”
“We are already here.” Mary pushed open a door to the side of the stairwell, entered and touched her candle wick to the lamp on the wall next to the door.
She followed the lass inside and halted within a surprisingly large room.
Mary lit another couple of candles, one on each of the two side tables next to two basic wood-framed beds. The added light glowed over the stone walls and brushed the floorboards.
Mary heaved up the lid of an engraved wooden trunk in one corner, pulled out a sheet and flapped it over the unmade bed. She drew a white cotton case over a pillow and plumped it, then smoothed out a couple of thick brown furs over top.
“Thank you.” She set her cloak, bag and basket at the end of the bed Mary had prepared, then at the side table, poured water from the jug into the basin. She washed her hands of the dust of her travels and splashed her face to refresh herself.
With a wide smile, Mary plopped down on her bed, pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Rocking with a smile, she lifted her nose to the air and breathed deep. “Mmm, I can smell something very sweet within your basket.”
“’Twas given to me by a friend and she said there are goodies within, although I’ve yet to open it and see inside.” Perhaps taking a look at what was within the basket might help distract her a little from her tumultuous thoughts.
She eased down onto the bed next to Mary and with the wicker basket on her lap, lifted the lid and gasped at the sight of a large tub of red strawberries. Although not strawberries she’d ever seen before. These were almost completely covered in something hard and brown, something suspiciously resembling mud. How strange.
“Oh, that is most unusual.” Wide-eyed, Mary plucked one strawberry free by its stem and tapped the hard brown shell encasing the fruit. “Hmm, I wonder what this coating is.”
“My friend has traveled far and wide, so it could be almost anything.” She too plucked a fruit from the tub and examined it.
“Ships arrive often with all sorts of exotic wares from the lands far to the east of us. I adore riding to Carron Harbor to see them unload their vessels when they do.”
“Then let’s hope this is one of those exotic wares. Would you like to try a berry with me?”
“Aye, we’ll see what this tastes like together.” A firm nod from Mary, a sparkle of eagerness shining in her eyes. “On the count of three. One.”
“Two.” She tapped her berry against Mary’s.
“Three.” The lass popped hers in her mouth and so did she.
With a soft crunch, they both bit down.
Oh, sweet heaven. She moaned as the brown shell casing broke into pieces in her mouth and slowly melted against her tongue. The sweet flavor of the fruit blended deliciously with the full and rich elixir of the casing, the explosion of divine decadence making her sink back against the wall. Eyes closed, she savored the delight which had no name.
“I dinnae know what this mud is called,” Mary mumbled around her mouthful from beside her, “but I’m so very glad you have a whole tub full of strawberries covered in it.”
“Me too. Let’s have another.” She dove back into the tub then stopped as her fingers brushed a large block of something hard wrapped in shiny, purple parchment. She lifted the block out and gently slipped her finger under the top flap of the purple paper. The parchment fell away to uncover more of the same brown treat as what the strawberries were coated in, a large slab of it. “Well, well.”
“Oh, how wonderful.” Astonished, Mary clapped and jiggled on the bed. “What do the words on the parchment say?”
“Let me see.” The largest word embedded upon the paper spelled something she’d never read before. She traced along it, murmured, “Choc-o-late.”
“That must be the name for this treat.” Mary jiggled some more. “Calling it mud seems so very wrong when it tastes naught like it. Choc-o-late. What a divine name.”
“Here, we’ll go halves with it.” She broke the block in two and handed one half to Mary. “This is yours.”
“Ye wish to share this treasure with me?” A powerful wave of delight rushed from the lass and nearly overwhelmed her.
“Aye.” She laughed, even more delighted than Mary to have made her so very happy with such a simple gift. “This half is yours, and the other half is mine.”
“Oh, I dinnae wish to eat all of my treasure at once.” She scrambled to her feet, nabbed a clean cloth from the pile on the side table and wrapped her half of the chocolate within it, all except for one piece which she popped in her mouth and sucked away on madly. “This chocolate is sheer heaven.”
“Fiona?” A knock rattled the door. “’Tis I, Ella. The innkeeper told me you wished to sleep downstairs in his daughter’s room.”
“I’m right here.” She tucked her half of the chocolate bar back within the purple paper and slipped it into her satchel before rushing past Mary and opening the door. With one hand extended, she motioned Ella in. “Come, come.”
“Speaking of my papa.” Mary ferreted her chocolate away in her trunk and joined them. “I must go and aid him and Mama afore I can seek my rest. I’ll be quiet when I return.” She bobbed her head at her. “Dinnae fear that I shall wake you when I do.”
“Thank you.”
“Sleep well.” Mary rushed upstairs, her steps echoing down the stairwell.
“Come see what Cherub packed within my basket. She brought me treats from her mate’s twenty-first century time.” During her visits to Ardan, she and Ella had spoken often of Cherub and how the fae princess had even intervened in her own chase with Duncan. Such a delight their fae guardian was. It had been wonderful to meet her.
“This I have to see, and during our trek to find you once you’d escaped Coll again in the meadow, he mentioned Cherub appeared to you in the woods.” Ella dropped down onto the bed next to the basket, peered inside and frowned. “Is that mud covering these strawberries?”
“Nay, ’tis chocolate.” She dropped in next to Ella, shuffled around and crossed her legs under her red velvet skirts. “Even though you’ve told me afore about Cherub, I still got quite the fright when she appeared out of the mist right afore me. Her skin sparkles as if dusted with diamonds.”
“Aye, the eldest child born within the royal line always holds such sparkly skin. It denotes Cherub’s strong lineage.” Ella selected a strawberry and eyed her. “What did she speak to you about?”
“Just that she willnae allow Coll to set me aside a second time, and that I must continue to enforce the hunt until he sees reason. I even told Coll the same but he dismissed her words, said no bond existed. He fights it, even though ’tis clearly the truth.”
With a thoughtful look, Ella twirled her strawberry by the stem in the center of her palm. The chocolate base encasing the fruit melted against her skin and left a glistening streak behind.
“Oh, it melts.” Ella lifted her palm to her lips and licked the
chocolate then eyes wide, gasped. “Oooh, this is sooo sweet.” She popped the berry into her mouth and mumbled around it, “But let’s no’ forget the true matter at heart. When Coll finally sees reason and breaks his betrothal with the MacRae’s daughter, the MacRae will never allow that kind of slight to pass.”
“Aye, I am asking a lot of Coll.” She could well be ensuring yet another war broke out.
“You are only asking him to accept your bond and deep inside his heart”—Ella stuffed another strawberry into her mouth—“he knows the truth, that you’re his chosen one. It’s just making certain he acknowledges it which seems to be the issue.”
“His duty has always been to his clan, and to ensure his people’s survival. What if I’m too late? He has given Elizabeth MacRae his word that they’ll wed, and Coll never breaks his word once issued.” Not in all the years she’d known him had he ever done so, which worried her terribly. With a shake of her head, she continued, “It goes against his very nature to put his own needs and desires above those of his clan, and that is exactly what I’m asking him to do in accepting our bond.”
“Aye, but you’re still his very heart and soul.” Another strawberry and hearty moan. “He willnae be able to live without you.”
“Yet he’s lived without me for the past sixteen months and seemed to have no issue doing so.”
“True, but there is also such deep devotion in his eyes when he looks at you.” She grinned and winked. “Well, that and anger. Give him some time.”
“I’m no’ sure we have much time left.”
The end of the week would be here within a matter of days.
Aye, she was nearly completely out of time.
Chapter 5
Coll stormed down the cramped stairwell after speaking to Gordon, the innkeeper. There wasn’t a chance he’d allow Fiona to sleep below-stairs, not so far from his reach when she could so easily sneak out the front door and be gone before he knew it. And since she’d been so damn determined to ensure this chase, he didn’t doubt she’d consider such an option.
Highlander's Touch: Medieval Romance Page 9
