Harlequin Historical May 2014 - Bundle 1 of 2: Notorious in the WestYield to the HighlanderReturn of the Viking Warrior

by Lisa Plumley

  ‘Does he know this? Does he know you will not stay?’ Jocelyn asked.

  ‘I have told him so, but you know men, my lady. He hears only what he chooses. But we women know how it must be,’ she finished.

  What struck Jocelyn in that moment was that in different circumstances a woman like Catriona would have been the perfect wife for her son. And the sadness of that revelation brought tears to her own eyes. Blinking them away, she walked to the door. She took Catriona’s hand in hers.

  ‘If you have need of anything, you have but to call on me and I will do whatever I can to help you. Do you understand?’

  ‘I thank you for your generosity, my lady. But I will not have need to call on you. I know what I’m doing.’

  Jocelyn looked into the face of the woman her son loved and who loved her son and nodded, knowing she would not argue the point. The offer had been made and Jocelyn would honour it.

  ‘Good day, Catriona. My thanks for your hospitality.’

  She walked away quickly, the tears that had threatened pouring down her face now. Jocelyn waited until she turned the corner and Catriona would not see her before tugging a linen square from her sleeve and mopping her eyes and face. By the time she entered the gates, she had herself under control. She spied her husband standing in the place high on the walls of the keep in the spot he liked because he could see all the comings and goings.

  Jocelyn must speak to him now. He must know what they were up against.

  * * *

  Connor watched as she walked with purpose towards the stairway that would bring her to him. This was a place where they could speak without being heard. This was a place where they could do other things without being seen as well.

  The original castle builder had created this gap for his assignations with the lord’s wife at the time. That did not end well for either of them, but the sad story of their ending did not stop him from enjoying this place with his wife whenever he could coax her here. No matter that all knew what happened here when the guards were directed elsewhere. It was the Beast’s lair where no one would trespass.

  Now, she reached the top of the stairs and motioned the guards away. He could not see her face yet, but her manner did not bode well for his hoped-for seduction this day.

  ‘Connor,’ she said.

  ‘Jocelyn,’ he replied. When the expected kiss did not happen, he took her by the shoulders and pulled her to him. ‘Wife,’ he growled, possessing her mouth until she melted against him.

  And still he did not cease tasting her, dipping deep and fast and hard into her mouth with his tongue, hoping to spur her on to take of him. Several minutes of very pleasing kissing happened before he gave up his efforts. Placing her back on her feet, he held on to her until she steadied. At least he knew she was affected by him.

  ‘Husband,’ she said, putting her hands on her hips in a stance he knew well. ‘We must discuss Aidan.’

  ‘You went to speak to his leman.’

  He did not ask, for he knew she had. His mate did not leave his presence without him knowing where she was. He would never cease protecting her whether she knew it or not. Connor owed her his very soul and so she would always be under his protection and observation.

  ‘Certainly I did,’ she snapped back at him. ‘We have a problem.’

  Though love had come to him in the most unexpected way—in a marriage brought about by threats and blackmail—it did not mean he could not see it. Aidan was maturing from a callous, randy young man into a young man worthy to be his heir. And much of it had been brought about by his attraction to Catriona MacKenzie. His actions had caused harm and he’d done the right thing in trying to sort through the consequences of it.

  And he’d fallen in love in the process.

  Even Connor could see it.

  ‘What problem is that, Jocelyn?’ he asked the woman who held his heart in hers.

  Their love had developed after their marriage—in spite of it, he sometimes thought—and had grown deeper as they faced the adversities and challenges of life. He did not doubt that his son could do the same thing, once he married the right woman.

  ‘What do you know about this woman? Surely your spies have reported to you about her marriage with Gowan? And before that? I know you are careful about your son.’

  ‘Spies, Jocelyn?’

  He preferred to call them by other names, but as long as they provided him with what he needed, he cared not the name. And provide they did. Whether important information or small bits he tucked away for future need, his sources kept him well informed about everything and everyone who lived under his control—and those who might affect him or his interests.

  So far, they’d said nothing alarming about the woman his son had chosen as his leman...and more.

  ‘She said something about Gowan saving her. I was curious and thought you would know by now. And, aye, spies, Husband. You have your creatures everywhere.’

  ‘And the matter you think is a problem?’ he prodded her. He tucked away that bit about Gowan and would have someone look into it further, for it might prove valuable.

  ‘They are in love.’

  He let out a frustrated breath. ‘I know. It has no significance to our plans. You know that. He will marry an appropriate bride and they will find happiness. Hopefully, as we did.’

  ‘Connor! How can you say that?’

  ‘You spoke to Catriona. How did you find her to be?’ he asked, knowing the answer already, for he’d observed the woman his son had taken under his protection.

  ‘She is circumspect and loyal and does not overstep like that last one,’ she said, shivering at the memories of the histrionics of Aidan’s last lover, one he’d kept, thankfully, for a very brief time.

  ‘Then she understands that she cannot stand in the way of our plans for his marriage?’

  ‘Aye, she understands, but—’ she began to argue.

  ‘She understands, Jocelyn. Let it go.’

  The fire in her eyes that he wanted to see was, instead, replaced by anger that said he was not going to get the chance to seduce his wife after all. She screamed out her anger then, stamped her foot and walked away from him, cursing and muttering under her breath as she went down the stairs and through the yard to the keep.

  Those who witnessed the exchange turned back to their tasks when the door slammed behind her. She was soft-hearted and, no matter how much she claimed to understand the necessities of life as it involved her son, Jocelyn would never give up hope now.

  Connor walked back along the battlements, watching as his men trained below.

  He would do what was necessary to see his son, his heir, settled with the right bride, one who brought an equal measure of wealth or power or lands to the marriage. It was Connor’s duty and would be Aidan’s when he had a son.

  If Catriona wanted to remain as his leman, so be it. Most men of his position married as required and kept a leman for love as well. Connor would not demand that Aidan give her up, just keep her in the right place in his marriage.

  One day, Jocelyn would see the wisdom in his plans and understand that it had to be this way.

  And Aidan?

  Well, he was as stubborn as his mother at times, but as a man he would understand the necessity of it. As his son, Aidan understood the absolute necessity of doing his duty.

  Connor entered the keep and went about his tasks. Their journey would take several weeks and Aidan would stand in his stead while they were away.

  Once they returned, the potential brides would arrive and Aidan would be too busy to worry over Catriona.

  It was just the way of things.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The first week of his parents’ absence had passed and Lairig Dubh still stood as it had for ten generations. Its people lived on and everything h
ad been uneventful. Aidan’s only disappointment was he’d been too busy to spend time with Cat. She visited the keep once, with Muireall, but she would not remain with him.

  She’d finally accepted his invitation to come and eat supper with him this evening here. It was a near thing, for she said it was not her place. He thought that only using the boy she seemed to favour, wee Alasdair, to send the messages convinced her to join him. She did not, he suspected, want to give the boy the task of sending her refusal to Aidan. He cared not the method, he was only happy she accepted.

  And yet, he wanted it to be her place.

  He wanted her at ease in his home, with his family and his friends.

  He wanted her with him, day and night.

  But each day and week his parents were away meant he was one step closer to losing her. For each day they were away, it meant that the women, one of whom he would marry, were that much closer to arriving here.

  Now supper neared and Aidan grew nervous. Would she come? When he approached the high table and the servants prepared to serve, he despaired that she would not. Then he saw her near the back of the hall with Muireall, ever at her side, and seated with some others from the village who’d had business in the keep this day. He began to stand, to call her forward when the hall grew silent in response to his action.

  Catriona dipped her head then, the only one there not looking at him, and he realised she was embarrassed. Not wanting to make her more uncomfortable, he took his seat and nodded at the servants to begin. Gair sat at his side, discussing several issues, but he noted that her embarrassment faded as he watched her partake in the simple meal offered.

  When she smiled, he did. When she laughed, he drank in the sound of it, wondering about the cause of it. When she took a few sidelong glances in his direction, he saw them and nodded to her.

  ‘Aidan?’

  He sighed. He lost his ability to think when she was there and when she was not. He must learn to push her from his thoughts and concentrate on his duties. Turning to Gair, he waited for the man’s words.

  ‘I received word from your parents. The wedding is scheduled for three days hence and they will return a sennight after that. There is a message for you in your chambers, though I do not think it anything of a pressing nature.’

  His uncle. His sister. His cousin Tavis. They had all recently married and their marriages had joined clans or made alliances stronger. It was the way of it.

  It would be the way of his life and marriage.

  He pushed aside what must be and thought instead of what was—Catriona was his. And he planned on keeping her, no matter what.

  * * *

  After waiting for a polite amount of time for everyone to finish the meal he’d barely tasted, he stood and walked to the place where he wanted to be. Everyone stood as he passed and he greeted a few of those familiar to him as he made his way down one long aisle of tables to her. She stood as well, head bowed before him, and she would have dropped further if he had not taken her hand and stopped her.

  ‘Come,’ he said. ‘I would show you the rest of my home.’

  ‘My lord,’ she whispered, allowing him to lead her though he could feel the resistance in her body.

  Just as they approached the doorway to the tower where his chambers were, a group of warriors entered the keep. Recognising several of them, Aidan knew who else served as part of that group, recently returned from a mission escorting an important trade partner of his father’s back to the coast. When the group went off to find food and drink, one man remained in place.

  Munro.

  He thought he might get Catriona away before she saw him, but she lifted her head at the wrong moment and he knew from her stumbling step she’d seen him. Hatred filled the man’s eyes and he fisted his hands as he saw them leaving the hall together.

  Catriona stopped then, out of surprise or some other reason, and the hall fell into silence, waiting to see how this encounter would go. Munro took a step towards them but Young Dougal and Angus intercepted him then, drawing him away with boisterous talk of food and ale and women.

  He owed Dougal a debt of thanks for that. As he headed once more for the stairs, Catriona stood frozen, a desolate expression in her eyes.

  ‘Come now, love,’ he whispered, taking her arm under his. ‘We can speak more about this in private.’

  That seemed to move her along so he led her up the stairs and into the tower where his chamber was. Twice they climbed until they reached the floor where his room sat. Opening the door, he allowed her to enter first.

  Cat circled the large, very large, chamber, taking in the comfortable luxury in which the earl’s heir lived. She thought her cushioned chairs were so, but his furnishings put her modest ones to shame. She paced mostly because of seeing Munro here—or rather him seeing her on Aidan’s arm.

  The hatred shining in his eyes was too much to bear and thankfully one of Aidan’s friends had stepped in to ease the tension of it. But now, her stomach threatened to empty and her head ached. She thought she might shatter from within. Cat stopped walking and looked for a chair on which to sit before she toppled over.

  ‘Here, sit,’ Aidan said, holding her and guiding her to one of the chairs. ‘I did not know he would return this day or I would have warned you.’ He left for a moment and returned with a fine glass filled halfway with an amber liquid. ‘Sip this, it will clear your head.’

  The powerful whisky he favoured burned a path down her throat and into her stomach, sending fire, then warmth throughout her body. He sat next to her, watching her every move.

  ‘So you knew where he was?’ she asked.

  ‘Aye. He was assigned to guard one of my father’s allies—a man from Flanders—back to the coast.’

  ‘Did you send him?’ she asked. It would make sense. Once Catriona had moved into the house Aidan set up for her, Gowan’s son had disappeared from the village, easing things as he made her his leman in fact. ‘Is that what you do? Send people away when they are inconvenient?’ An impossible thought tickled the back of her memory, but she brushed it aside.

  ‘He made things difficult for you, Cat. I did not wish to see you distressed by his presence and his actions. You saw what happened just now. He believes you were unfaithful to his father and nothing will convince him of the truth,’ he argued.

  ‘He made things difficult for you...for us,’ she said. ‘Is that what you will do when I become a difficulty for you? Send me away?’

  She did not know why she asked that question, for she had already decided she would leave him when that time came. Some strange mood held her in its control and she could not banish the worrying thoughts and feelings from herself.

  ‘I want you to stay with me, Catriona. I want you with me.’

  ‘And your new wife? She will accept this?’ Catriona knew how wives felt. She knew Gowan sought comfort in the harlots’ beds and she knew how humiliating it felt to her—even when his doing so was her fault. High-born or low, no woman liked it.

  ‘It matters not. You are the woman I love and I will not set you aside.’

  The devil teased her now, prodding her to say things she should not. Or mayhap the whisky or the strange mood had loosened her tongue and the words she’d thought about during the hours he was not with her. Once he married, he would be spending those hours with his wife. The woman who would bear his name and his legitimate heirs.

  ‘So you will keep me in the village and come to me from your wife’s bed? Will you wash her scent from your skin before you do? Or will the taste of her yet be on your tongue when you come to claim me?’

  The words poured out then—all of the feelings and fears she kept within, exploring them only in the dark of night and all the while knowing in the light of day how it would be.

  ‘Catriona,’ he said, walking towards her. ‘This can work betw
een us. Any wife will know of your place in my heart before we marry. She will have to accept it, for I will not let you go.’

  She pushed out of his embrace and walked to the other side of the chamber, crossing her arms over her chest and rubbing her arms.

  ‘I knew that Gowan slept with the harlots to find the pleasure he could not find in my bed. I knew it was my fault,’ she stated plainly. ‘Yet that did not ease the humiliation from knowing it.’ Then the deepest truth pushed its way out. ‘And I did not love Gowan as I love you, Aidan. I know I have no right to say this, but it will kill me to share you, even with your lawful wife.’

  She sank to her knees, unable to stop sobbing into her hands, as she admitted her greatest failing—not that she had failed Gowan as a wife but that she’d allowed herself to fall in love with a man she could never claim. She should never have come here this night.

  He wrapped her in his arms and held her there, kneeling next to her, as she cried. All the feelings of hopelessness and pain and guilt and sorrow bubbled up and tears flowed. He whispered words and held her until the worst had passed. Then he lifted her in his arms and carried her to his bed. But, when she thought he would lie down, instead he held her on his lap.

  ‘You love me?’ he asked quietly.

  Of everything she’d said in her emotional tirade, those words were what he’d heard?

  ‘Aye, you daft man,’ she whispered back, touching his face. ‘I love you. In spite of my efforts not to.’

  He kissed her then, soft and sweet. Then he kissed her cheeks and her chin and her eyes and then her mouth again.

  ‘Say it again, I beg you,’ he pleaded.

  ‘God forgive me, I love you, Aidan MacLerie.’ He shook his head.

  ‘Just the words, Cat. Just the words.’

  ‘I love you.’