“’Tis natural, lass. They were the only family you had left.”
“Aye, but I acted out of fear. I thought if I could get far enough from my uncle, from Fraser, they would forget about me, and I’d be safe. When my parents died—”
Her voice thickened as the memories of those awful days bore down on her, and she swallowed to clear the lump from her throat. He pulled her closer, enveloping her with warmth.
“You doona have to talk about it, sweetling.”
She took a deep breath and blew the air from her lungs. “I know. I just wanted you to understand why I left despite the way you cared for me and your assurances of my safety. Laird Fraser and my uncle controlled me, Darach. They would have used me. I was paraded like oxen in front of Fraser and others just like him. My fear that I would be trapped again pushed me down a dangerous path when I ran from you, and you ended up hurt because of it. I’m sorry.”
He squeezed her tight for a minute, his big hand on the back of her head, her face pressed to his throat. Then he rolled her onto her back and captured her mouth with his. She wanted to be as close to him as possible, feel his skin against hers, but his quilt and her blanket had bunched up between them. Hooking a leg over his covered thigh, she trailed her hands down his spine. When she reached the quilt that covered his backside, she slipped her hands beneath it and squeezed the firm flesh. He moaned at the contact and thrust into her mouth, tangling their tongues for just a second, before he pulled back, breath rasping from his lungs.
She wanted him to keep going, and when he rolled onto his back and circled his arm around her shoulders, she exhaled a frustrated breath. He laughed, a small puff of air teasing her ear.
“Is that it, then?” she asked.
“For now. You need your rest, Caitlin. As do I.”
It occurred to her that for propriety’s sake, she should sleep elsewhere, but she couldn’t make herself get up. Her room would be cold and lonely, and what if he slipped back into that endless sleep?
“Darach!”
His eyes popped open. “Aye?”
“Are you all right?”
“I was. Now my heart is racing like a rabbit’s. What’s wrong?”
“’Tis naught. I just wanted to make sure you were well.”
He squeezed her reassuringly, then closed his eyes. “I promise to wake with you tomorrow, Caitlin.” He pressed her head to his chest. “Close your eyes.”
She did, but they crept open again. Raising her head, she watched him. He was such a handsome man, even drained from his illness. Her heart filled to overflowing with gratitude that he’d found her—both times. If he died tomorrow, she wanted him to know how she felt.
“Darach.” She tapped his chest.
He sighed. “Aye, Caitlin.” He caught her hand in his.
She contemplated the perfect way to phrase it, but in the end, it was simple. “I love you.”
He stilled. When his chest failed to expand with air after an appropriate amount of time, she became alarmed. Then he breathed deeply and squeezed her again. “I’m…glad. Sleep now, lass. We’ll talk in the morning.”
Sleep was the furthest thing from her mind now. Maybe he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Darach.”
“Aye?”
“Do you love me?”
His arm curled up and he stroked her hair. “I…care about you a great deal. Now close your eyes.”
She tried. She truly did. “Darach.”
He made an exasperated sound. “What?”
“When you say you care about me, does that mean—”
“Caitlin. Go. To. Sleep.”
* * *
For two days now, Darach had been confined to his chamber with a trail of women coming in and out, coddling him like a bairn. If he had to spend one more minute in bed, someone would either have to join him—that someone being Caitlin—or he would have to strangle someone—that someone also being Caitlin. She’d sent the clanswomen to his chamber to watch over him in an attempt to keep him in bed and entertained, but the only time he’d been entertained was when Caitlin had sat on him moments ago, her soft ass perched on his loins, her hands pressed into his shoulders to keep him prone.
He pulled her leg over his pelvis so she rode him. It proved everything was back in working order. Aye, getting up was not a problem.
Her blue eyes widened. “Darach!”
He grinned. She looked shocked at what he’d done, but also intrigued. She would enjoy their wedding night. And if ever she let him out of bed, he would have that talk with her, clear the air of secrets, and ask her to marry him. He had no doubt she’d agree. She loved him.
He grinned again.
She squirmed to get off him. He grasped her waist firmly, holding her close. “Mmmmm. That feels good. Shift your hips forward, Caitlin, then back. If you want to keep me in bed, I swear ’tis the only thing that’ll work.”
Her jaw dropped open and he saw a sliver of pink tongue. He longed to suck on it.
“You mean like we did before?”
The blood in his groin surged at the reminder, and he groaned. “Just like that.”
“Laird MacKenzie!”
Darach jumped at the icy, disapproving voice. Edina stood at the door looking like an avenging Fury, holding a pile of folded linens and a bar of soap in her arms.
Caitlin squeaked and wriggled off of him, jabbing his privates as she did so. Pain lanced through him and he rolled to his side, groaning. Through bleary eyes, he saw her rush toward Edina.
“I swear, Edina, naught happened. I was just holding him down so he’d stay in bed and then…well, I doona know exactly, but he ne’er touched me…you know…there.”
Edina grasped her arm. “You are not to be alone with him till the…till the time is right. Do you understand?”
Caitlin nodded, then looked over her shoulder at him longingly. Despite the sharp ache in his lower half, he grinned at her. She returned his smile. He swore his heart danced a jig.
Edina scowled again. “Caitlin!”
Her head whipped back around.
“Go check on the bath for our laird. Make sure the lads doona spill any water on the way.”
He almost laughed when Caitlin sighed and dragged her feet to the door. She lingered at the opening. “Is Oslow back? I want to know if anyone’s seen Cloud today.”
She’d been devastated to learn Cloud had disappeared after her spill into the river. Then yesterday, he’d been spotted in a distant field looking healthy and feisty. The men had tried to tempt him with apples, but he wouldn’t come near them. Caitlin swore she would go to him as soon as Darach was well. Which was another reason he’d stayed in bed.
“I doona think so,” Edina said, “but I heard Laird MacKay in the bailey. Maybe he’s seen your horse.”
“Maybe.” Still, she lingered.
“Oh for heaven’s sake, lass. Shoo!”
Caitlin jumped and scurried away. Edina followed to make sure she had left, then partially closed the door.
Darach raised a brow. “I ne’er heard Lachlan arrive.”
His chamber was situated directly above the bailey. If his foster brother had returned, Darach would have known it. Lachlan always called out a cheerful greeting.
Edina shrugged, then moved toward him, her eyes boring into his. “You are not to take advantage of the lass until you marry her. I want your word on it.”
Darach scowled. He didn’t need to be lectured by his housekeeper. He understood his duty. The door opened and several lads entered just as he formed a retort befitting his status as laird. They carried buckets of water for a bath. Darach’s mouth snapped shut.
When the tub was full, Edina turned her back and he rose naked from the bed and lowered himself into the water. It felt good to wash away the sweat of the last two days. His shoulder was still sore and Edina hel
ped him soap his hair after he covered himself with a cloth. He sighed as her fingers massaged his scalp and then rinsed the suds away.
“You ne’er gave me your word,” she said after a moment.
“I doona need to. I willna tup the lass before I marry her.”
She scoffed. “You say that now, but you’ll be unable to stop yourself when you’re close enough to feel her heat.”
An image of him pressing his hand against Caitlin’s womanhood through her chemise seared into his brain. His body responded and he crossed his arms over his groin, then frowned.
“That willna happen.”
“Most likely, but make sure of it by marrying her first.”
He sighed, unused to being opposed. But ever since Caitlin had arrived, Edina and several others had begun expressing their opinions, even if they differed from his. “I give you my word the lass will be a virgin on her wedding night. I’ll speak to her in my solar this afternoon. We’ll marry three days hence.”
“You may speak to her in the hall,” she said primly, “and I need at least a week.”
He threw his hands up. “Bloody hell, Edina. We agreed to three days.”
“Aye, but you’ll only marry her once, and she deserves everything to be perfect.”
They stared at each other. He slanted her a look that had intimidated many of his warriors. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin.
Damnation.
A heavy, fast tread sounded in the passageway, and he quickly rose from the bath and grabbed a towel. The door pushed open after a brief knock, and Lachlan strode inside. He looked like he’d been riding hard. Their eyes met.
“Fraser is here with a representative of the King and Caitlin’s uncle.”
Thirteen
“Where’s Caitlin?”
Panic fought with Darach’s innate self-discipline. On the one hand, a precise plan had formed the moment Lachlan had said Fraser was here; on the other hand, he just wanted to grab Caitlin and lock her in her room despite how she might feel.
“She’s downstairs with Fergus,” Lachlan said. “Doona worry. The portcullis is locked and Oslow has Fraser, MacInnes, and their men under guard. I rode ahead. They should arrive shortly.”
Caitlin’s laughing voice drifted up from the bailey, and he moved to the window to look out. The dogs trailed her, and she had Fergus, who carried a kitten, by the hand as she headed toward the kitchen. Two more of the kittens darted in front of them; a third sat atop the well.
Darach couldn’t help smiling. The Lady’s Guard.
He quickly dressed and went to his solar, sitting behind his desk. Lachlan followed and sat in the chair across from him.
“Will you write the lads and Gregor—ask them to come?” he asked.
“Aye.” Darach pulled out his quill to request aid from his foster father and Darach’s three remaining foster brothers, Kerr, Gavin, and Callum. They would support him in this conflict.
“I think Kerr is at Gavin’s, trying to woo Isobel,” Lachlan said, grinning. “She’s running him a merry chase. And Gregor is visiting Callum, helping him ferret out the traitor in Callum’s clan. ’Tis fortunate they can travel in pairs.”
Darach finished the first letter and sprinkled it with sand to set the ink. “What was the name of the King’s man with Fraser?”
“Birk Anderson. A Lowlander.”
“How does he know Fraser?”
“According to your man inside, he was on business for the King and took shelter with them during the storm.”
Darach tapped the quill against his lip. On the surface, the men were here for Caitlin. The uncle’s involvement was a testament to that. No way in hell would they get her. The question was: Why had Fraser involved the King? Was it simply to force Darach’s hand, or was it more complicated than that?
“And we doona know the man’s business in the Highlands?”
“Nay.”
He returned his attention to the letters but listened for any screams from the bailey. He’d just finished the third letter when he heard feet running up the stairs and down the corridor. The door burst open, and Caitlin stood there, hair streaming down her back, cheeks flushed. She was so beautiful his heart hurt.
“Why are you out of bed?” she asked.
Darach paused. Should he tell her Fraser would soon arrive with her uncle? Nay. Not yet. She’d most likely do something foolish. “Doona fash, Caitlin. I’m well.”
Moving forward, she felt his brow. He wrapped his arm around her hips, and his anxiety lessened.
She removed her hand, apparently satisfied he wasn’t feverish, and smiled at Lachlan. “Edina said you may have seen Cloud. I want to fetch him.”
“Nay!” Lachlan and Darach said together. Darach tightened his arm around her as if she would be kidnapped at any moment.
She stiffened. “But he willna come for anyone else. ’Tis my fault he’s out there alone. I need to bring him home.”
“Not now,” Darach said. “’Tis best you stay in the keep.”
“Why?”
“Must I give you a reason? Canna you do as I ask just this once?” he snapped, instantly regretting his tone.
Her eyes widened with hurt, and he felt that familiar twisting in his gut. “I’m sorry. It’s just…” He searched for some excuse to give her.
Lachlan sighed. “Tell her. She’s bound to find out soon enough.”
“Tell me what?” Then the color drained from her face. “Has Cloud died?”
Darach squeezed her waist. “Nay. By all accounts he’s alive and well.”
“Then, I’d like to see him. ’Tis a beautiful day. Let’s all go together.”
Lachlan rose from the chair and stood behind it. “I would love to, but Darach needs to speak to you first. Come sit down.”
She hesitated, glancing at them warily, then sat in Lachlan’s seat and folded her hands in her lap. A strange expression crossed her face—sad but, at the same time, resolved. “Are you sending me back, then?”
Darach’s brow rose. She still didn’t trust him. How many times did he have to tell her he would protect her before she believed him? It was an insult she thought so little of his vow and his feelings for her. He may not have professed his love, but he’d said he cared for her. Did that mean naught?
“You. Are. Not. Going. Back.” He had to grind his teeth to remain calm.
Her gaze met his before she stared down at her hands, where she’d twisted her fingers together. “You doona have all the facts, Darach. You made a vow to me based on half-truths. If you break that vow, I’ll understand.”
Half-truths? She sounded so serious his heart began to race. Suddenly he dreaded what she was going to say. The Caitlin he knew was innocent of any wrongdoing…other than digging up his bailey, of course. And running away in the middle of a storm. And approaching Cloud when he’d told her not to. Well, she may not be innocent, but her heart was pure.
When she sat up, shoulders back and chin raised, a shiver ran down his spine.
“I ne’er had amnesia,” she blurted out. “I lied because…because…if you knew the truth, you might return me to my clan, and I doona e’er want to go back. You see, my uncle used me to…to—”
A knock at the door interrupted her. The quill snapped in Darach’s hand as his breath caught. Truth be told, a part of him didn’t want to know Caitlin’s secret, and the intrusion was welcome.
“Enter,” he said.
The door opened to reveal Oslow, his eyes fierce. “They’re here.”
Caitlin glanced at him then back to Darach. “Who’s here?”
When he failed to answer, she asked again, voice shaking. “Darach, please tell me, who’s here?”
He stared at her, and every feature of her face burned into his mind—big, blue eyes, fair skin, rosy lips. His nerves settled, and
the panic faded away. He needn’t worry. She was safe with him in his castle. His clan supported him, his foster father and brothers supported him, and the King would support him once he knew the truth.
If not, they would go to war. Caitlin belonged to him.
“Fraser, your uncle, and a representative of the King. They want you back. We will disabuse them of that notion.”
* * *
For what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour, Caitlin paced from her window to the door, then back again. In the eyes of the law, she was a commodity that had been stolen. Fraser and her uncle were here to claim her like a disputed pig, and Darach would have no choice but to return her.
What would they do to her if they got her back?
Her knees weakened, and she grabbed the shutter for support. First, they’d lock her up, after she’d sworn never to be so confined again.
And it would mean physical and emotional harm and degradation. But worse, it would mean a lifetime without Darach or the rest of the MacKenzies. No cherished home or husband. No beloved friends or pets. How could she live, knowing happiness was only a few days’ ride away? Surely God wasn’t so cruel.
Nay, He was not. He’d sent her an angel. A human savior who’d vowed to protect her. Darach was a strong laird of a powerful clan. He cared about her, had come after her when she’d fallen into the river, and claimed she would never go back to her uncle or Fraser. She’d have to trust him to keep his word.
Aye, of course he’d keep his word if he could, but he didn’t know the whole story. She hadn’t had time to tell him the facts before they’d been interrupted and a mountain of fear and panic had consumed her.
Darach had taken one look at her and strode around the desk to squeeze her tight. “I’d no more give you to Fraser than I would my own mother.”
Then he’d passed her to Oslow with instructions to lock her in her bedchamber—if she agreed—and place a strong guard in front of the door. When she’d peered over her shoulder, he was busy with Lachlan at his desk, focused and remote. He’d forgotten her already. No teary goodbye, no passionate kiss, no heartfelt declaration of his intentions. He’d soon be faced with the facts of her situation and see it was impossible to keep her.
Highland Promise Page 16
