by Tarah Scott
She shrugged nonchalantly. “Aye. According to legend, you can also break a tree in half with your bare hands.”
He turned his attention forward, and she glimpsed the amused upturn of his mouth. “I am a legend, then. Are ye duly impressed?”
“I heard tell ye are perfect.”
He looked at her, eyes gleaming with laughter and said in a conspiratorial voice, “I do have one huge fault.”
She cocked a brow. “Only one?”
“We will begin with the one. I do no’ share this with many people,” he whispered so quietly she found herself leaning slightly toward him. “I snore. Terribly.”
Linnae blinked, then narrowed her eyes and shoved his shoulder.
“ ‘Tis the truth,” he said with a laugh. “I can wake the entire castle.”
The heavens opened up and rain showered down on them.
Linnae cried out. Jacob hugged her close to his side as they raced the twenty feet to the keep. They reached the postern door. Jacob yanked it open and she hurried inside. A gust of wind whipped around her as he slammed the door shut.
“Good Lord,” she said with a laugh. “Ye are drenched.” Raindrops clung to his dark locks. Her stomach made a strange flip. “Ye are drenched,” she said.
“So are you, love,” he said. “You must change.”
A shiver raced down her arms. “The rain was cold,” she admitted.
“Cold?” He lifted a brow. “We cannae have that.” He grasped her arms and yanked her against him.
“Jacob,” she squealed in the instant before his mouth covered hers.
She flushed warm. His tongue touched her mouth and she opened for him. He slid his tongue inside her mouth and Linnae melted against him. He may have been soaked, but he was certainly not cold. His warmth penetrated the fabric of her dress and even her nipples warmed.
Linnae slid her arms around his neck and rose on tiptoe. He crushed her closer and groaned. The juncture between her legs tightened. When he broke the kiss, the room spun slightly and she buried her face in his shirt. That kiss was certainly perfect.
She drew back and stepped from his embrace. “I will go and change.”
“I could come with ye.”
Linnae blinked. “You mean—Oh, we have the ceremony this afternoon, and I must--that is, I should visit Lyel.”
He nodded. “As ye wish, lass.”
“You aren’t angry?” she asked. “If you wish to come up, of course, you can. ‘Tis your chambers, after all.”
He gave her a wry grin. “If I come up, we will most certainly miss the ceremony, and you should spend time with Lyel. It will please him.”
She nodded, then hesitated before turning and heading toward the stairs. All reminded quiet behind her and she was certain he watched until she disappeared up the stairs.
* * *
By the time the wedding celebration in the great hall was in full swing, Linnae began to grow fatigued. They’d gotten little sleep last night while standing vigil for Lyel, and she’d had not more than a moment to herself all day. In truth, she’d rather be with Lyel. But he’d insisted she and Jacob spend the evening at the feast, where they hoped Malcolm Donald would make an appearance.
“Isn’t the minstrel handsome?” Lady Innis said with a giggle.
Linnae glanced at Innis, who sat to her right at the dais table.
“Not as handsome as Jacob,” Sophie said loud enough to be heard over the din.
“Of course,” Lady Innis quickly added. “Ye are a very fortunate woman, Lady Linnae.”
Linnae grimaced. She would never grow accustomed to being called ‘Lady.’
“It really was wicked of you not to tell us who you were,” Lady Innes said. “Don’t you agree, Sophie?”
Sophie leaned forward and looked past Lady Innis at her. “I do,” she said. “Jacob knows we were very close with Lady Alison, so we are to be trusted. Oh, I will miss her.”
Lady Innes nodded.
Linnae’s heart twisted. It wasn’t fair that Lady Alison had died. But if she hadn’t died, Linnae would never have married Jacob. Guilt stabbed. God forgive her, she was glad she was married to him.
Married.
Jacob was her husband.
She still couldn’t believe it. Linnae cast a covert glance at him.
As if sensing her scrutiny, Jacob glanced her way. He winked and she yanked her gaze onto her plate. Would he consummate their marriage tonight? He had to. They weren’t officially man and wife until they consummated it.
“Linnae.”
Linnae jarred from her thoughts at the realization that Jacob was speaking to her.
“Ye seem deep in thought,” he said.
She shook her head. “I was thinking how I never thought I’d be married once, much less twice in two days.”
He grinned. “At least you married the same man.”
She couldn’t help laughing. The man was a charmer. And far too handsome for her own good.
Would you like to sit near the hearth and listen to the music?” Jacob asked.
Linnae smiled. “Aye.”
He stood, and waited for her to stand, then nodded at Ladies Innis and Sophie and led her down the steps to the hearth. The men clapped Jacob on the back as he passed. Jacob smiled in what Linnae would swear was genuine pleasure. Was he glad he married her?
They reached the hearth where the young minstrel played his lute. Linnae halted near the hearth and reveled in the warmth of the fire.
“Are ye cold, lass?” Jacob asked.
She hadn’t thought so, but the fire felt heavenly. He stepped closer and slipped an arm around her waist. She snapped her head up and met his gaze.
He offered a lopsided smile. “You will grow accustomed to my touch.”
She swallowed. Grow accustomed to his touch? Heaven help her.
His fingers flexed against her waist. Her heart began to beat fast.
“Are ye at all pleased to be married to me?” Jacob whispered.
To her surprise, his expression was earnest.
“Aye,” she said.
He regarded her. “Just ‘aye’?”
She tried not to smile. “Aye.”
He turned his attention to the fire. “Are you looking forward to us finishing tonight was we started last night?”
Her mouth dropped open. The rogue was baiting her. Two could play at this game.
Linnae looked at the fire. “Aye.”
He shifted and she tensed when he pressed his mouth to her ear and whispered, “Mayhap we will have to start from the beginning?”
His warm breath washed over her ear. She shivered but managed a, “Mayhap.”
Jacob drew her into his arms, threw back his head and laughed. The deep rich sound reverberated through her. He bent his head and surprised her with a quick, hard kiss. Cheers went up in the room and he grinned down at her, clearly pleased with himself.
“Laird.”
He looked past her as two men reached them.
The taller one bowed. “My lady.”
The other grinned, then said, “Forgive us, but we must borrow your husband for a moment.”
“Lads,” Jacob began, but the men laughed and clasped his shoulders.
Linnae watched as the warriors pulled him to one of the tables halfway across the room, shoved him down onto the bench, and filled a mug with ale. The shorter of the two—who wasn’t all that short—clapped him on the back and they all drained their mugs in three big gulps. She grimaced. Her husband would soon be drunk.
She recalled the warrior’s words last night, “If he’s too drunk to satisfy ye, lass, I can take his place.” Would he be too drunk to satisfy her?
She realized the minstrel had stopped playing and glanced down at him. He stared up at her, one brow lifted. Embarrassment washed over her. Surely, he couldn’t read her mind?
The postern door opened and from the corner of her eye, Linnae glimpsed a too-familiar figure. She yanked her gaze onto the three men who stood near t
he door. Her heart pounded as Malcolm Donald scanned the room. He had come. He had actually come. That had to mean he was responsible for Lady Alison’s death.
Chapter Nine
When Malcolm’s eyes settled on Linnae, she remained stock still as his mouth dropped open in shock. He hadn’t known she was here. How long would it take him to deduce that she was Lyel’s adopted daughter?
He said something to his men, then started toward her. Her heart jumped to a gallop.
Stay calm, she told herself. She was surrounded by MacKenzie and MacKinnon warriors. Malcolm couldn’t hurt her. Jacob had sworn she need not fear Malcolm.
He reached her. “What a surprise to see ye here.” He bowed. “I have been so worried since, well…” He smiled the warm smile that made so many of the lasses at Glenwood Abbey think he cared, but she recognized the threat that lay beneath the surface: I wager you haven’t told the MacKenzies you grew up at Glenwood Abbey, then ran away from your master.
Linnae stared, unable to speak.
Malcolm looked at the minstrel. “Begone, minstrel. I wish to speak privately with the lady.”
To Linnae’s surprise, the young man looked at her in question. She nodded, and with a glare at Malcolm, he left them. Two MacKinnon warriors passed and cast Malcolm a glance that told Linnae they knew who he was and weren’t pleased by his presence. No one but her, Jacob and her grandfather knew of the plan to entrap Malcolm. It wasn’t surprising they would wonder why the laird’s new wife was talking with the Donald laird’s captain. Malcolm had taken a huge risk coming here.
Malcolm stepped closer to the fire and said in a low voice, “That is a fine dress for a maid to be wearing.”
Murderer! she screamed inside her head, but said in a level voice, “Aye.”
“Why did you run away?”
The quiet question sent chills of fear along her arms. “Because I had no desire to become Leslie David’s whore,” she replied in the same quite tone.
“Whore?” he said in such surprise that for an instant she doubted that he knew the truth. But Malcolm was a master manipulator.
“Ye sold me for three head of cattle, Malcolm.”
“What I did, lass, was place you in a household so you could spy for me.”
This was probably at least half true. She had no doubt that Malcolm would one day have visited her at Leslie’s home and offered to free her in exchange for information.
“How did you go from being a maid on Skye to wearing such fine clothes at a clan chief’s wedding feast?” Before she could answer, his gaze shifted to the room and he said, “Who is this adopted granddaughter of MacKenzie’s?”
Linnae didn’t reply.
It took only two heartbeats for him to return his attention to her. He studied her for a moment. “You are the new Lady MacKinnon.”
Linnae gave a single nod.
He released a breath. “ ‘Tis clear I greatly underestimated you. How did you manage it?”
She shrugged, and as Jacob had instructed her to say, “He fell in love with me.”
Malcolm’s brows shot up. “Jacob MacKinnon, Laird of the MacKinnons, fell in love a servant girl?”
“Not a serving girl,” she said. “Laird MacKenzie’s adopted granddaughter.”
Malcolm nodded slowly. “I underestimated you. You are worth all the other Sisters of the Sinister Order put together.”
She wanted to shout for him not to call them that, but forced calm. “What do ye want, Malcolm?”
“You talk as if you and I aren’t old friends,” he said. “I had no idea you were here, Linnae, but I am greatly pleased to see you. I had given you up for dead. Now, finding you here. Well, I couldnae have planned it better myself.”
Linnae regarded him. “I think you have been doing a bit of planning already. Why attack Lady Alison’s carriage?”
Surprise shone in his eyes, but she knew it wasn’t the accusation that astonished him, but that she had deduced the truth.
“Attack Lady Alison’s carriage?” he said. “What makes you think I attacked her carriage?”
“You truly do underestimate me if you expect me to believe you were no’ behind the attack.”
Grudging respect replaced his surprise. He shrugged. “I wanted to sever the bond between the MacKenzies and the MacKinnons.”
So, Jacob had been right.
“Murder?” she said. “The three women who died in the carriage were young and innocent.”
He shook his head and said in a hurried whisper, “Nae, lass. It wasnae supposed to be murder. The fool driver was supposed to drive the carriage to a meeting place, but he couldn’t handle the damned horses.”
“What did you mean to do with Lady Alison?”
“I would have eventually ransomed her.”
After she was fifty years old and used up by his men, no doubt. But she doubted even this. Malcolm was not a man to leave ends untied. Jacob was right again. He had intended to kill Lady Alison.
Malcolm opened his mouth to say something more, then paused as a group of men passed. Once the men left earshot, he said, “With you as Jacob MacKinnon’s wife, I can now be privy to all his doings.” He grinned. “Who would’ve guessed that little Linnae would turn out to be my best spy?”
Her stomach knotted. Little Linnae. He hadn’t called her that since she’d turned fifteen.
“By God, together, you and I can rule Skye.”
“Rule Skye?” she said in shock. “Ye are insane.”
She caught sight of Jacob, who now stood with a group of men ten feet behind Malcolm. She gave a slight nod and Jacob strode toward them. He reached her side and turned to face Malcolm.
Surprise flickered in Malcolm’s eyes an instant before he schooled his expression into one of pleasure. “MacKinnon, congratulations on your marriage.” He extended a hand toward Jacob.
Jacob looked at Linnae.
“He says he did no’ intend to kill Lady Alison, but I dinnae believe him. He wants me to spy on you for him,” Linnae went on. “He said we would rule Skye together.”
“What the bloody hell?” Malcolm cried.
Jacob’s brows shot up. “I imagine Dòmhnall will be interested to learn his captain intends to rule in his place. Do ye intend to kill him as you did Lady Alison?”
“I never went near Lady Alison,” Malcolm snarled.
“Reams,” Jacob said.
Malcolm whirled as Reams stepped up beside him.
“Throw him into the dungeon with his men,” Jacob said.
“Do you know who I am?” Malcolm demanded. “I am captain to Laird Donald, and I came here in the spirit of peace to congratulate you on your marriage.”
“You asked my wife to spy for you,” Jacob said. “That alone is enough for me to hang you.”
“You believe a serving girl over me?” Malcolm growled.
“Lady Linnae is my wife,” Jacob said.
“She might be your wife, but I know her well—far better than you do. She lived at Glenwood Abbey eleven years. We were very…close.”
Linnae gasped.
Jacob smiled coldly. “I know ye are no’ implying my wife was your lover, for that would mean I would have to kill you where you stand.”
A shout went up. Linnae whirled. A man near the door stood, sword drawn. Two guards pointed spears at him. The room had gone silent.
“Michael,” Jacob hissed.
From the corner of her eye, Linnae saw Malcolm lunge.
“Jacob!”
Jacob whirled, barely dodging Malcolm’s fist to his jaw. Reams dove for Malcolm, but Malcolm leapt aside. Jacob drove his fist into Malcolm’s belly as large hands seized Linnae’s shoulders and yanked her away from the fray. She tumbled back into the arms of a large warrior.
Malcolm swung his fist in an uppercut and caught the edge of Jacob’s jaw. Jacob’s head snapped to the side. Linnae cried out when Malcolm yanked from its sheath the knife strapped to his belt. Reams lunged. Malcolm swung the knife and slit the left sleeve of
Reams’ shirt. Red splattered one end of the rip, but Reams lowered his head and rammed into Malcolm’s belly, driving Malcolm back against the side of the hearth.
Half a dozen warriors surged toward them and Linnae lost sight of them for an instant, then glimpsed Reams and Malcolm on the floor in a tangle of long legs and flying fists. A warrior stepped in front of her. Linnae pushed past him in time to see Jacob yank the knife from his belt and fling it at Malcolm as he shoved to his feet. The point hit home in the center of his chest. Malcolm’s eyes widened in shock, then he collapsed onto the floor.
Jacob spun and pushed through the crowd toward the other man—Michael, Linnae remembered. God have mercy. The guards held him pinned against the wall with their spears. A dozen other men stood behind the guards.
Chapter Eight
When Jacob finally climbed the stairs to his bedchambers, he was more tired than he ever remembered being. Malcolm Donald was dead. Michael was in the dungeon awaiting his fate. Jacob’s chest tightened at memory of Lyel’s grim expression when Michael begged Lyel to understand that he hadn’t known Malcolm would kill Lady Alison.
Lyel had adopted Linnae and married her to Jacob because, as he’d told Linnae, life goes on. But his murmured command to throw Michael into the dungeon and build a gallows had been heavy with sorrow.
The alliance between MacKinnon and MacKenzie was now more important than ever. The next in line to take Lyel’s place was Robert MacKenzie, a lad of eighteen. Barely old enough to lead, he would need good and strong friends. Jacob suspected that the moment Lyel had learned who Linnae was, he’d known that Michael would never leave Eilean Donan Castle alive, and Robert would become Lyel’s heir.
Jacob reached his chambers and entered. He stopped three paces into the room. Linnae slept curled on the bed, wearing nothing but a thin nightrail.
She’d begged to stay with him and Lyel, but Lyel had commanded his granddaughter to bed. Tears had glistened in her eyes when she’d kissed Lyel’s cheek, and Jacob had been sure he glimpsed moisture in Lyel’s eyes when he patted her cheek with a gnarled hand.
Desire swept through Jacob. Desire to hold his wife close. To tell her his secrets, his dreams. To take her home and show her the misty hills and clear blue lochs around Dunakin Castle. His chest tightened. Would she love his home as much as he did?
