by Terry Spear
Brina let out her breath and nodded.
“Your mother…she is…no more?”
Brina shook her head. “She died a year before I met you.”
“What was her name?”
“Davina.”
Gunnolf stared at Brina in disbelief. He had not joined the clan until two years after the incident, but it had still been fresh on everyone’s minds. The woman had worked in the kitchen and was said to have been wild and untamable and had run off three times from the castle that year. Some said it was because James’s father had had his way with her; others said because he had not. But Gunnolf hadn’t known the woman had been carrying a bairn. He wondered if anyone else had known, or if only the lass had. Maybe the laird.
“Then…I am taking you where you belong. To my home now. And even more your home as your mother was from the clan,” Gunnolf said with some relief. “James, son of the previous laird, now rules the clan. You have nothing to fear from him. He is good of heart and would never turn away a woman in need.”
Brina didn’t seem eager to embrace the idea.
“Lass, what is the matter? Surely you see you belong with the MacNeills.”
“In truth, I had hoped to. But what if I tell them who my mother was?” She shook her head. “I know what the people will say. That I am like my mother. Especially since I have run away from my own keep.”
“The laird isn’t like his father. So you have no need to be concerned there.” Then Gunnolf wondered if she was like her mother, running off in the middle of bad weather with no goal in mind. “You are not with bairn, are you?”
She tried to pull her hands away from his.
“Nay, lass.” He held her tight. “The Clan MacNeill took me in, a wild Norseman, not that you are wild like that. They showed me kindness and that I belonged when I had never thought I would feel such a thing unless I was home with my own kin. You will be safe.”
“The Clan Auchinleck is my clan,” she said, her words tight with anger. “They are my people. When no one from the Clan MacNeill would protect my mother, my da and his people did. But Seamus, whom my da had entrusted the clan to when my da died, will destroy the heart and soul of my clan. Aye, I could live with you and the Clan MacNeill, and I am sure from what you say that I would be allowed to stay there, but accepted? I am no’ sure about that. They are no’ my…, well, my mother was a MacAffin, allied with the MacNeill, and they had pledged their loyalty to the old laird. Maybe some of the rest of the MacAffin married the MacNeill and their offspring would be related to me. But what of my da’s people? They will have to live with Seamus’s rule and suffer for it.”
“Your father was chief of your clan? You are Lady Brina then.”
“You didna know me as such before. I am the same as then.” She spoke as if she really believed she could be the lass that he had met so long ago.
But she wasn’t. She was vital to the clan as a means to make an alliance with another clan through marriage.
Gunnolf didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t sure what she wished of him. She wouldn’t be able to rid the clan of Seamus on her own. Rescuing her was one thing, but fighting Seamus and all those who followed him? “You dinna wish to return there, do you? You must have escaped from there, if you were running all alone in the wilderness during the height of a snowstorm.”
“It is my home.” She let out her breath. “But my da also declared I would be wed to Seamus. The man wished it of me the morning following my da’s death. Could he no’ have at least given me time to grieve? Except Seamus had no intention of waiting for the wedding to bed me,” she said bitterly, her cheeks even growing redder and this time Gunnolf thought from embarrassment.
“Then you canna return there. Unless you have had a change of heart concerning Seamus.”
“I havena.” She wiggled her toes and moved them against Gunnolf’s thighs, making his staff tighten further. “My feet are warm.”
His blood was sizzling. “Are you sure, lass?”
“Aye and you need to eat.”
“All right, but only if you are certain.”
She pulled free of him, and then moved around to crouch at his feet. He couldn’t believe it when she untied his boots and pulled off one and then the other. Then she slipped off his wet socks and wrapped her warm hands around one of his feet.
“Your feet are ice cold. Do they burn?”
From just her hands on his foot, he felt his whole body heat. Not just his feet. “Ja, lass.”
“I canna hold your feet between my legs as you have done for me as I am no’ as strong as you. But, mayhap I could sit on them?”
He envisioned her sweet bare arse sitting on top of his feet and thinking how much he wished she was sitting on other parts of his anatomy that stirred to life even more from the words she had spoken and the way her soft, warm hands felt pressed against his foot.
He couldn’t say yes or no. He wasn’t the most talkative of men normally, but he really couldn’t find his tongue. He thought she meant to keep her kyrtle and chemise wedged between her arse and his feet, and nodded. But when she lifted the layers of her gowns slightly and planted her sweet, naked arse on top of his feet, he was shocked.
She frowned and he started to pull his feet out from under her, thinking his icy, cold skin had chilled her too much when she placed her hands on his legs and held him down. The woman had a strength he didn’t believe she could possess as petite as she was. And the pressure she exerted on him made his thoughts drift to carnal pleasures again. He couldn’t help thinking of her in that way—not after she had shoved him down in the snow when they first came into contact, tightened her sweet body against his when riding together, and now this.
“Stay. The worst of the cold will go away,” she said.
The cold she was feeling? Or the cold he was feeling?
“Talk to me,” she said. “The way you are looking at me when you are so silent unnerves me.”
He cleared his suddenly very rough throat. “My feet are burning.” And so was the rest of him, but he wasn’t sure she would understand about that.
She nodded. “Which is a good sign. Aye?”
“Ja.” He hid a small smile.
“Why are you out here in this weather?” she suddenly asked, sounding suspicious. “Surely, you are no’ running away from anyone or anything, are you? Why were you at that shieling? I assume it was not your own if you are with the Clan MacNeill. And I dinna believe I ran far enough away from my castle to have reached your lands.”
Would she believe in an old woman’s visions? He had no reason to make up any other tale.
“A woman told me I needed to travel south of our lands to aid a woman. Now, if you are the woman, I am in luck. If you are not, I still have to find the other one.”
“You are serious?” she asked. “You went where you have never been before, searching in this terrible storm for a woman you didna know at all because a taibhsear told you so?”
“She is like my amma, my grandmother. And though she can sound ambiguous and abrasive to some, she has lived a hard life and I respect her and her ways. She would not ask me to do anything that she truly didn’t believe in. Not everyone understands a taibhsear’s ways.”
“Do you?”
He shrugged and fished a bannock from his pouch. “Even if I did not, it seems to me I have rescued you.” He chewed on his bannock.
“Whether or no’ I am the one you were supposed to aid.”
“Ja.”
She studied him for a moment while his thoughts returned to the way her sitting on his feet was heating him thoroughly.
“My mother was supposed to have the gift of two sights,” she finally said, watching him carefully.
Gunnolf frowned at her, surprised first that her mother had the visions, but secondly, that Brina would share this with him. The way she observed him, he knew she was trying to determine how he viewed the news. So maybe Brina believed in them. “My amma was supposed to have as well.”
&
nbsp; “Your grandmother?” She raised her brows.
“Ja.” He frowned at Brina, wondering if she had the gift also. His grandmother’s talent had not passed down to him though. “Do you have the ability?”
Brina lowered her gaze from his face to her lap. “Are your feet warm yet?”
Her reluctance to explain that she had the gift made him think she did. But he also knew some believed those who could see such things would think they were witches.
If she did have any visions, had she seen him in one? Maybe not, as she had seemed genuinely surprised to cross paths with him at the shieling. “If you are able to foretell some future happening and it has anything to do with running into Seamus or his men, I hope that you will feel free to warn me about it.”
She studied him for a bit, then nodded.
He let out his breath. “Your secret is safe with me. I believe there are things in this world, and not of this world, that we cannot readily explain. Are you cold, lass?” He noticed then that her body trembled a little. He reached for her hand and pulled her down against him, not waiting for her reply.
She stiffened, but he kept her close to show she had nothing to be afraid of. Then he yanked the blankets and furs around them and over their heads. “We will share our body heat and naught more,” he assured her, though truly, how could he not wish for more?
Thankfully, she did not stiffen or pull away from his over familiarity with her further, and she seemed to realize she was safe with him. It was good she could not know his true thoughts.
“So where do we go from here?” she whispered against his cheek.
He savored the touch of her warm breath on his cold skin as if they were lovers in a welcoming embrace on a frigid night. “We head north to see Wynne and learn if you are the right woman who needed my aid. And then, whether you are or not, I will escort you to Craigly Castle where you can meet your kin. I am certain they will be pleased to learn that something good came of your mother’s disappearance so long ago.”
“You are so very kind, Gunnolf, despite where you come from.” She nestled closer, sharing her heat with him, and he couldn’t help the way his body reacted.
She didn’t say anything more, and he thought she must have fallen asleep.
He had never imagined holding a woman in his arms like this, trying to keep her warm while she warmed him in a crumbling Roman tower in the middle of nowhere during a snowstorm when all James had sent him to do was check on Wynne and ensure she was safe.
His thoughts wouldn’t shut down though, and in case Brina hadn’t fallen asleep, he asked, “Do you have any idea where we are?” He thought Brina must if she knew anything about her lands. She had said she did know how to get around out here. Surely she had not just blindly left the castle with no real inkling.
“I have no earthly idea,” she said, so softly, he thought she must have drifted off to sleep, and he’d woken her.
He couldn’t believe she didn’t know where they were. Not when she had said she knew her way around. “You did not recognize the Roman tower ruin? Have you any notion where it is located?”
Her only response was a whispered warm breath against his neck as she breathed out softly. He thought about how he had to ensure she stayed with the MacNeill clan once he safely escorted her there. She would find a home with them like he had, he thought. Except in her case, she was truly one of their kin, even if her mother might have had a bit of a tarnished reputation.
He tried to sleep as he half listened to the sounds of the wind whipping the snow into a fury all around the outside of their private little tower. And he thought he’d managed to sleep for a while when he heard a whimpering and then a tiny howl sound outside the tower. His horse instantly neighed and began to move in the small confines of the tower walls.
Gunnolf jumped up to control the horse before he trampled them to death.
4
Darkness cloaked the ruined tower and everything around them, including Brina, as Gunnolf had a devil of a time getting hold of his horse’s reins. He hoped he and his horse didn’t accidentally step on Brina while he tried to quiet him.
“Whoa, Beast.” Gunnolf spoke soothingly to him, his hand stroking the frightened horse’s neck.
He thought Brina was still sound asleep when she whispered from the floor of the keep, “What is wrong?”
“A wolf howled, spooking Beast.”
“They willna hurt us,” she said with conviction.
“Ja. I agree. It was a wolf pup, I should say.”
“Where?” She suddenly stood, her soft body bumping into him.
His loins instantly stirred. He told himself it was only because she was a beautiful lassie, and he hadn’t been with one for a very long time. That any lassie would do. But it wasn’t true. Something about her humor and her determination, not to mention she had come to his aid as a lad when she had to know he was her father’s enemy, made him see her as something more. “The wolf is somewhere outside the tower.”
She didn’t hesitate to say, “Go get it then and bring it here.”
Amused at her insistent tone as she commanded him, Gunnolf still frowned at her. He loved animals and had often cared for the weak and injured, but the pup could be real trouble. “You must be jesting. The pup most likely has a mother. And a father. And aunts and uncles. And other siblings, lass.”
“Are you afraid of taking care of him?”
He wanted to laugh, but he smiled at the sweet lass. She’d obviously lived a sheltered life at her keep.
“I thought you said you could fight six men at once. That you had fought more than that before.”
“’Tis different, Brina. I would not want to separate a wolf pup from his pack.” And that was the truth of the matter. Though other considerations were important also. The lass’s safety, most significantly. Taking a wolf pup with them could put them all in danger.
“What if he has lost his family and he needs our help? Maybe it is a she and she is the one you were sent to aid.”
He chuckled, drew Brina into his arms, and held her tight. “Wynne was not talking about a wolf pup. She was talking about a woman. You, I am fairly certain. When it is light out, I will see if I can find it, but you will stay here with Beast.”
“That is the name of your horse?” she asked, sounding surprised.
“Ja.”
“He was a wild one?”
“The wildest when he was young. You should have seen how hard it was for me to break him.”
“Truly? You had to treat him cruelly to get him to yield?” She sounded genuinely upset to hear of it.
She seemed to have a kind heart as far as animals were concerned. “Nay, lass.” He encouraged her to lie down with him again and then pulled her tight against him and buried them in the furs. “I have a gift when it comes to animals. They all love me, whether I wish to be loved by them or not.”
“Do you have the same way with women?”
He smiled, but did not answer her. It was true the lasses all seemed to like him and vied to get his attention, several of them wishing he’d marry them. But he hadn’t been interested enough in any lass to settle down.
He sighed. What was he to do about the wolf pup? They couldn’t take it with them, even if he did discover the wild wolf had lost its pack. Yet, he couldn’t leave the pup behind to die either.
Getting the lass safely to the MacNeill lands was the only difficulty he wished to think about right now. If Seamus and his men caught up with them, Gunnolf would have to prove he could fight six men and win the battle—this time.
Gunnolf was still sleeping when Brina heard the wolf pup whimpering outside the tower wall. She quickly found dry socks in her pouch and hurried to pull them on. Then she hastily yanked on her boots and tied them on. She fastened her brat about her shoulders and braced herself for the cold outside the tower. Amazed at how the thick tower walls had blocked the chilly breeze and kept their small sleeping quarters so much warmer, she walked through the doorway and o
ut into the inner bailey where some of the curtain walls stood, some crumbling, some still resembling a protective wall. She shivered and walked as far away from the tower as she could, keeping it in sight in the low-light as the sun was attempting to ascend into the heavens.
A fog was also moving into the area, and she could not see much off in the distance but more fog.
She needed to relieve herself, but kept a watchful eye out for the wolf, when she saw the gray pup. She’d raised one until he had gone off to find a mate, never learning what had happened to the rest of his family, though she had looked, thinking she might find more pups.
She spoke softly to the pup, then pulled a bannock out of her pouch, tore off a piece, and offered it to him.
He stuck his nose at the food, sniffed it, then took it from her, and chewed on it. “Stay,” she said, as if he’d know what she meant for him to do. She observed the partial stone walls standing against the snowy backdrop and considered the keep again, standing on top of a hill. She hadn’t realized the horse had climbed it last night. She looked around at the fog-cloaked mountains and forests surrounding them, the river and a loch nearby. She was disappointed to realize she had no idea where they were.
She crunched through the crusty snow, sinking into it until she reached a partial outer wall, found a place by a cairn that afforded her privacy from the tower, and relieved herself. Then she turned to head back to the tower when she saw the pup had followed her.
“You were supposed to have stayed,” she scolded, already loving him because she knew he had followed her as if she were his mother wolf, taking care of him until he was old enough to provide for himself. She held out her hand to him, encouraging him to come to her, talking to him like a mother would her baby, soft and high and reassuring.
He inched closer, then stuck out his nose and sniffed her hand, then licked it. She smiled. “Come.” She clapped her thigh to urge him to come with her. But the pup just sat on the snow and watched her. She returned to him, gathered him up in her arms, and headed back to the tower.
She had barely reached what would have been the inner bailey when Gunnolf stalked out of the tower, his face grim, his blue eyes widening at the sight of her.
