Highlander's Prize

by Mary Wine

  “Then where is your finery, Laird Grant?”

  He frowned. “This is me best kilt, woman. Do nae they teach ye in England what finery looks like in the Highlands?” But his doublet was still only made of leather and the sleeves were hanging behind his back.

  “What me brother is saying in his normal brash manner is that he thinks Highlanders above such things as pomp. At least when it comes to clothing,” Nareen announced from the doorway. Frustration edged her tone as she joined them with the same careful stride Clarrisa had adopted. “Which is grossly unfair,” Nareen accused her sibling. “If I have to suffer these ridiculous clothes, so should ye.”

  Kael reached out and cuffed her gently on the chin. “One of us has to be ready to keep Norris Sutherland from ravishing the pair of ye.”

  “Some proper clothing would assist better,” Clarrisa announced. Her dress was beautiful, and she’d honestly never worn one to equal it. It was made of jade silk and the back of it flowed behind her. Wide cuffs of lace were set to the sleeves, while more of the rare embellishment ran around the neckline and down the center of the bodice. Even if you made the bobbin lace yourself, it was made with gold wire floss. Hundreds of hours would have been needed to produce the amount adorning the dress. A border of velvet edged the bottom of the gown, too.

  Kael surveyed her from head to toe, his gaze slipping over the way the soft silk outlined the curves of her breasts and hips. Heat flickered in his eyes, sending her back a pace.

  “Nae, lass, I disagree. Ye are exactly what I need to keep Norris attentive to the supper I’m fixing to serve him.”

  “Well, ye do nae need me,” Nareen announced with a rustle as she turned toward the doorway.

  “Stay, Sister. Yer presence is required because ye are the daughter of the laird. Ye’ll take yer place as surely as I will, since the son of our overlord is here.”

  Gone was all trace of teasing in Kael’s tone. It was interesting to see how quickly the man could become formidable. Interesting, but it sent a shiver down her spine too. Clarrisa held her silence while brother and sister battled. It was truly a skirmish, for neither wanted to bend. She saw the solid laird Kael was and had so cleverly hidden behind his playful facade.

  Nareen flounced back into the room, her silk skirts rustling like a pile of autumn leaves. “I detest it when ye are correct.”

  Kael lifted her chin and placed a sedate kiss against her cheek. “But I adore ye when ye apply that clever wit of yers to doing what is best for the family.”

  Jealousy caught Clarrisa by surprise, the hot ripple of longing flashing through her. There had been cousins aplenty in the house where she was raised, but she’d never had any she considered her friends. Only a few dim memories remained of times when she had trusted one of those relations with her true feelings only to experience the pain of betrayal when they told every word of her confessions to her uncle. She’d learned to keep her own counsel early.

  “I see yer sister has outgrown her nurse.”

  The newcomer was a lighter-haired man with hints of copper. His eyes were a startling green that he aimed directly at Clarrisa.

  “As if ye’re paying any attention to me at all,” Nareen groused in a tone so honey sweet it was almost comical. “I could be covered in warts and ye have nae noticed, with the way ye’re staring at me, friend.”

  “I wager there is nae a wart on yer fair skin,” their company answered while turning his attention to her. “But I insist on being sure of me facts.”

  “Ye may insist all ye like, Norris Sutherland, but I am nae impressed with yer father’s title, so do nae be relying on it to get this dress off me.”

  He closed the distance between them and offered Nareen his hand. She placed hers in it, and he lifted it to his lips. But at the last instant he turned her hand over and placed a kiss against the delicate skin of her inner wrist. She lost her composure for a moment, only the briefest of time, before shaking her head.

  “Enough, ye rogue.” Nareen’s voice had turned husky. She jerked her hand away and retreated with a rustle of silk. “I am still nae impressed.”

  Norris chuckled and offered her a low bow. “Ye never have been, but I still try me luck.”

  Clarrisa felt a tingle of loneliness move through her. The playful nature surrounding her only seemed to illuminate just how much of a stranger she was.

  “This is Norris Sutherland, eldest son of the Earl of Sutherland,” Kael announced. “Which is a true shame, for the earl will no doubt be angry with me for running him through…” Kael shrugged. “But there is naught I can do since he’s offended me sister.”

  “Do nae blame me for yer barbaric impulses, Kael.”

  Norris had her fixed in his sights once more. There was a flicker of satisfaction in his gaze.

  “Delighted to meet ye, Clarrisa.”

  Her name rolled off his tongue with an ease that set her suspicions to boiling. The man was pleased, too pleased for her comfort. He offered her his hand and she laid hers in it. But the smile she gave him when he took the liberty of kissing her inner wrist was equal to his own. She felt nothing more than fleeting enjoyment. It was gone almost in the same moment it happened, and she had no trouble offering Norris a disinterested look.

  “Indeed, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

  She sank down, offering him the rehearsed gesture her uncle so often demanded. What made it bearable was the fact that she meant it not at all. It was merely a public nicety she performed without anyone knowing her true lack of sincerity. Except something flickered in Norris’s eyes that she avoided looking at too closely.

  “Come, Norris. Me father has had the cook running her staff to near insanity with preparations for yer welcome feast.” Kael walked between his guest and Clarrisa, taking her hand and placing it on top of his hand. “Escort me sister. It will give me father something to hound ye about throughout supper, so I may have some peace.”

  “All the better to flirt with Clarrisa,” Norris remarked, but he was happily stalking Nareen. She tossed her head and looked surprised by her own action. She frowned before stomping toward Norris and giving him her hand.

  “Let Father say what he will.”

  Norris chuckled softly. “Sweet lass, with a chill such as that in yer tone, I just might agree to whatever terms yer father offers, because it would grant me the right to woo ye.”

  Nareen scoffed at him. “Ye would never wed such a lowly woman as myself.”

  Norris was escorting her down the hallway while Kael pulled Clarrisa along behind them.

  “Ye think not?”

  Nareen nodded, the torches set to light the passageway making the waves in her unbound hair shimmer. “Yer family has a long tradition of wedding with an eye on advancement. Ye’re here because we have the daughter of a king beneath our roof.”

  “My sister is overly blunt,” Kael remarked.

  They’d reached the doors of the great hall, and musicians began playing.

  “But truthful,” Norris remarked with a touch of bitterness. “I’m no’ sure if I am more relieved to hear it so plainly or tempted to go home to me father with a different bride than he sent me for.” Nareen tried to jerk her hand away but he held her fingers. “Do ye think ye are the only one who likes to do the unpredictable?”

  “But then ye’d have me in yer bed,” Nareen informed him sweetly.

  Norris made a choking sound. “A good point. If I’m going to suffer a match I’ve little taste for behind the bed-curtains, I’d rather have a match my father would be pleased with. A man needs some happiness in his life after all.”

  He turned to survey Clarrisa with a cunning look.

  There was no more chance for conversation as the music rose. The hall was filled with Grant retainers and their families. Faces were freshly scrubbed, and most of the men had on their doublet sleeves. There were candles in abundance, all illuminating those watching their progress toward the high table at the end of the hall. Little girls gasped and pointed at the
way the candlelight danced off the silk dresses. All the while, the music of the harps and bagpipes surrounded them.

  It was a moment fit for royalty. When they passed, row by row, the spectators lowered themselves. Norris accepted their deference with a nod and a grace worthy of admiration. At the end of the main aisle was the high table. It was set for a platform, and Donnach Grant stood waiting for them.

  “Welcome to ye, Norris Sutherland. ’Tis a fine day indeed now that ye are supping beneath me roof.”

  Servants pulled the chairs out for them, and Clarrisa looked down at the fine silver plateware.

  She preferred the wooden plates at Deigh Tower.

  It was becoming annoying the way she thought of Broen so often. She needed to focus her mind on her future. Norris offered an excellent opportunity, for he might offer her marriage and legitimacy for her children.

  A lump formed in her throat as she contemplated sharing the man’s bed.

  Oh for Christ’s sake… Love has truly stolen your wits!

  Just as Maud had predicted, it would be foolish enough to allow herself to fall… well, to form an attraction to any man. She’d not admit it was love. No, she most certainly would not.

  Liar…

  ***

  “Come with me.” Nareen appeared out of the shadows, her voice startling Clarrisa. Nareen had her skirts gathered up so they couldn’t rustle.

  “Where are you taking me?” Clarrisa demanded.

  Nareen lifted a finger and placed it in front of her lips. She moved closer so they might talk in whispers. “I was nae only taunting Norris. He was sent here by his father for ye.”

  “He confessed that to you?”

  Nareen shook her head. “But I feel it is so. If ye want to be his trophy wife, I’ll leave ye to it. Me father can continue to enjoy the goodwill of the Sutherlands if I do nae help ye.”

  “Why would you help me?” Clarrisa demanded. Maybe the fine wine served with the meal had softened her wits, because she couldn’t understand what Nareen had to gain from her offer. Or even what the Scottish girl was proposing. “You’re the one who convinced me to leave Deigh Tower because there was no hope of a bright future for me.”

  “I know, but I’ve changed me mind,” Nareen muttered as she looked down the hallway and gestured for Clarrisa to follow. The men were drinking whisky in the laird’s study now.

  Nareen disappeared into a dark corridor. Clarrisa hesitated, torn between her desire to know what the girl offered and the reasons she’d left Broen. Her curiosity won.

  “What…”

  “Hush… We need escape before Norris comes after us. Do nae doubt he will; for all his teasing, he is his father’s son. He’ll do what is best for the Sutherland. Take home a bride his father will be pleased with and force ye to suffer his mistress because he has no affection for ye.” Nareen stopped and pulled Clarrisa close. “It’s yer choice, but for meself, I want more from my life than to be bred like a prized mare.”

  “That is not how you felt when you revealed Broen’s betrothed to me.” It hurt to say the truth.

  You do love him…

  Be quiet!

  Nareen pulled her down the passageway and on through several others. Clarrisa shivered as the temperature dropped. She smelled the river and shivered again, the thin silk dress failing to protect her.

  “Here,” Nareen announced at last. “Behind this door is an escape tunnel. It goes beneath the river and will likely be colder than ice.”

  “You haven’t explained why you’re doing this.”

  “Because of the sound of joy in yer voice right now. I saw the way ye looked at me and Kael, like ye’d never experienced a family sharing love. It shamed me, for ye were happy until I shattered yer joy by telling ye Daphne was contracted to Broen.”

  “She still is.”

  “Aye,” Nareen admitted in a soft tone. “I do nae know what to tell ye to do about Broen MacNicols, but I do know I’ve no liking for watching the way Norris Sutherland is contemplating ye with all the calculations of a secretary making sure his columns of numbers add up. So I’m offering ye the choice to leave. Maybe ye want to go back up there and take the position of his wife because it will grant ye respectability, but I believe it a false title, for he’ll never be faithful to ye.”

  “And you want more from life.” Clarrisa could hear it in her voice.

  Nareen offered a dry laugh. “Pitiful, I know, but I want something more. Something I saw dying in yer eyes when I told ye so bluntly who Daphne is. I let me brother talk me into forgetting about what I’ve come to feel is more important in this life.”

  There was a soft sigh. “Well… that’s me offer. Go now, or get back upstairs and make sure ye do nae lose the opportunity to make Norris Sutherland dance to yer tune.”

  Such temptation. Clarrisa watched Nareen hunch down and fiddle with a latch in the dark. The only light came through the arrow slits, and it was meager indeed.

  What did she want? Maybe the better question to ask was what did she wish to avoid the most?

  “The chance to belong to no one but myself was offered…”

  Edme’s words rose from her memory, filling her with determination. “I am sick unto death of being what everyone demands of me.”

  When Nareen stood, Clarrisa embraced her, hugging her tight because she just couldn’t hold back the urge.

  “I swear you are more treasured to me than any blood kin, Nareen. I have nothing, but if the day comes when I can repay your kindness, I shall.”

  “Forgive me for tearing yer heart and convincing ye to leave Deigh Tower. It made a hypocrite of me, and I hate myself for it.” Nareen squeezed her hard for a moment before pushing her away. “Get on with ye. I can do no more than show ye the way out. There will be cloaks inside, but no light. Ye’ll need yer courage to make it to the other side, for it will be pitch-black. The sort that plays with yer reasoning, making ye think there are daemons in there with ye.”

  She held out a folded parchment. “Take this. Go to the village beyond the woods and seek out me old nurse. She lives beyond the church at the edge of the village. Keep the cloak closed over that silk until ye find her. Her sons will give ye escort back to Broen if ye give her that letter. She will know it comes from me and will do me this service. Good luck to ye.”

  The doorway was small, only two feet high. The silk dress was a hassle but she made it and Nareen closed the door behind her.

  It was cold. Maybe it was the blackness, but Clarrisa shivered and was sure the sensation traveled to the deepest parts of her soul. Panic tried to seize control of her. It sent her heart pounding, and sweat began to bead on her skin.

  Courage!

  She reached for the walls, smiling when she felt them. Moving along, she searched for the cloaks and found one. She shied away from thinking about how dirty they might be, telling herself they were only musty from lack of fresh air. At least the one she donned was thick. She raised the hood to help warm her head and began walking.

  How far was it?

  She started to count, for at least it would tell her how far back the door was if she lost her nerve.

  You will not!

  She swallowed the lump forming in her throat and focused all her attention on counting. She would not allow her mind to think of anything except the numbers; that way, she’d not have the chance to change her mind.

  One… two… three… four…

  ***

  Someone pounded on his door.

  Broen sat up, ripping the covers off in a motion so violent he heard the sheet tear.

  “Come in.”

  He pulled a shirt over his head before realizing what he planned to do. Edme had already pleated his kilt, and he grasped the ends of the belt.

  Edme entered, a parchment in her fingers. “Norris Sutherland is at Bronach.”

  Dread twisted his insides. There would only be one reason Norris would be so far south. The man was hunting for a prize.

  Clarrisa.

&
nbsp; “Tell no one else.”

  “But…” Edme argued, “it is nae safe for ye to ride out alone.”

  “One glimpse of me riding with me men and Norris will know what I’m coming for. The only chance is for me to try and sneak into Bronach.”

  He knew how, but only because Edme had told him of the escape route out of the Grant stronghold.

  Lacing his boots took enough time to drive him mad with frustration. Each second felt too long, like a nightmare he couldn’t fight his way free of.

  His sword slid easily into its scabbard, and he ducked his head under the thick leather harness to settle the large weapon across his back, Highland-style. The keep was silent; the two men set to watch the lower hallway sat near the hearth where they rolled dice to pass the time.

  Broen walked past them, making no more sound than a specter. The stable lads were all sleeping with their plaids pulled up over their heads. His skin was hot from the accelerated pace of his heart.

  The gate guards were wide awake. They peered down at him.

  “Lift it.”

  They complied, only pausing to consider what was happening after he rode through the gate and no one followed. By the time they realized the laird had left the castle without his escort, the night had swallowed him. The clouds moved to hide the moon, making it impossible to catch sight of him. The captain was going to strangle them both for sure.

  ***

  Two hundred twenty-four… Two hundred twenty-five… Two hundred twenty-six…

  Clarrisa ground her teeth so hard, she expected them to shatter, but she continued to count.

  Two hundred twenty-seven…

  She hit a wall in front of her. A strangled sob rose from her throat.

  Too good to be true.

  Maybe she was disoriented because of the darkness. What terrified her the most was knowing the sun would never reach her in the passageway. She’d struggle to find the end until she collapsed into a heap to die in the darkness—like being entombed alive.