Highland Redemption (Highland Pride)

by Bailey, Lori Ann

  “Ye are irresistible.” He rolled on top of her and tickled her. She laughed, and her bare body rubbed against his, reigniting the fire for him that burned deep and hot.

  …

  After spending the morning visiting with Brodie’s mother and father, Skye found herself sprawled on the floor of his parent’s stables inspecting a new litter of puppies. She giggled as a scruffy little collie with deep soulful eyes jumped into her lap. The others rolled and tumbled as they played and yapped. Nipping at each other, they rustled the hay, kicking up a slightly earthy mildew smell.

  The only pup that had stopped to investigate her wore black and white on its face like a mask. It pounced up and stretched its paws onto her chest, and its silky black nose pressed into her neck before it licked under her chin.

  “He likes ye.” Brodie’s deep voice sent chills through her as he knelt behind her, his face so close she could almost feel his breath on her neck.

  The pup licked again, and she pulled back, right into Brodie’s hard body. It was warm and solid, reassuring. Turning into him, she was met by his warm brown gaze. He took a lock of her hair and twirled it around his finger.

  “Brodie.”

  “Aye, love.” His lazy, hooded gaze heated her as her breath became shallow, and she suddenly didn’t want the moment to end, didn’t want her uncle to come for her. This was the life she was meant to have.

  Was there any way to bring it back? Was there any way her uncle could or would release her from her obligation? Would she face the chance of being alone for just a little more time with Brodie?

  “Kiss me.” Licking her lips, she inched closer to his warmth, determined to enjoy every second she had left with him. Her hand slid under his plaid and inched higher, caressing his leg and eliciting a soft moan from deep in his throat.

  Brodie’s fingers forked through her hair to grasp the back of her head. Pulling her in, he said, “Ye are going to drive me mad, love.” Then his lips were crushing hers.

  He tasted of sweet honey and wine, of the promise of more to come. This was where she belonged, in his arms, with the man who had always held her heart in the palm of his hand. But it might destroy her if she stayed.

  A soft scratching on her arms startled her. She pulled back to see the rest of the pups had stopped playing with each other and were now bouncing around them looking for attention.

  “Och, love.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “I was about to take ye on the stable floor. I think ’tis time we get back. I’ll go tell Mother that we’ll come back for the late meal.”

  “Aye, dearest. I want ye in my bed.” She gave him what she hoped was a take me there and ye will not regret it look. She must have succeeded because his eyes dilated, and he pinned her with such a hungry gaze that she thought he would lay her down and finish what they’d just started.

  He stood and turned to walk from the small space as she leaned back on her palms to watch him leave. His muscular legs were at eye level, and she could almost feel the silky steel of them rubbing with hers as they lay tangled together.

  She sat up then cradled the pup in her arms and stood to watch his powerful legs carry him toward his parents’ home. A chill breeze blew through the stable. She shivered. The snow had melted out in the open, but patches of the white stuff remained in shaded areas, and a bitter cold had moved back in.

  Scampering around the corner, a dark haired boy who looked to be all of about four years appeared. His inquisitive eyes landed on Brodie, then he squealed and ran toward him. Brodie picked up the smiling child and twirled him around in circles. The wee one smiled up at him with matching dimples.

  Skye’s heart started to thud. The slant of his nose and the slightly larger tip at the end were identical to Brodie’s. It struck her like a blow to the chest when she had a flashback of Brodie as a child. The lad could have been Brodie’s twin. Nora Stewart appeared from around the corner of the house holding a babe, and Skye realized these were his brother’s children.

  Brodie’s head dipped as he lovingly smiled and placed a kiss on the wee babe’s head. Her heart stilled, but at the same time, it beat out of control. Erratic, irrational, terrified.

  Her gaze locked on the boy still in his arms. Brodie’s face glowed with the love he held for his nephew—the one thing she wanted so desperately to give him and knew she couldn’t. A strange resignation flooded her senses—she had been wrong. She didn’t belong here. She couldn’t give Brodie the family he deserved, and she couldn’t stand the heartbreak of not having a family to keep her company when he left her alone.

  With numb arms, she lowered the puppy to the ground. It peeked through heavy lids and yawned, but went right back to sleep as she laid it tenderly with its siblings. They had curled up in the straw and stilled. At the loss of its warmth she shuddered again. It belonged here, warm and safe with its family. She had no family here.

  The small space had become stifling. She needed air, but didn’t want them to see her, so she pivoted and walked in a disoriented haze to the door at the back of the stables. The air wasn’t enough to give her the clarity she sought.

  Heavy feet carried her toward her old home. Breathing became difficult as each inhalation became lodged in her throat, and no matter how she tried, her lungs would not fill. It felt as if a heavy object pressed against her chest, crushing her along with any dreams she harbored that she and Brodie might still stand a chance.

  It was for the best. She should be happy knowing that once she left he would be able to find a woman and have the family he dreamed of. After all, it was what she should wish for him as she moved on to take her place with the MacPherson clan.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Following Skye back toward the house, Brodie wondered what had caused her to walk off, shoulders down as if she had just lost a battle. Her gait was slow and measured, so he’d almost caught her by the time she reached the cottage. Why had she not waited on him?

  A snap sounded from the nearby trees. His gaze was pulled in that direction as the implications of her actions washed over him. She would be an easy target for Ross or any of Argyll’s men if she weren’t paying attention to her surroundings. And what would happen if someone discovered who he was and came after her to get to him?

  Had he been discovered? Hell. What if that was the reason Argyll was after her?

  He caught a glimpse of her walking inside and shutting the door behind her, so he scanned the woods again and then ran the rest of the way to the cottage, intending to give her a piece of his mind for being so careless.

  He found her in her room, a satchel in her hand, tossing in a couple of gowns that Maggie had given her. “What are ye doing?”

  “I’m going to Kentillie.”

  “Why?”

  “Ye dinnae need me here. I’m just a reminder of what can’t be.”

  “Nae, ye cannae leave. Argyll and Ross are still out there. Have ye forgotten about them?”

  “I havenae. Alan can see me home. He’ll keep me safe.”

  “I can keep ye safe.” He stepped closer, trying to bridge the distance that was suddenly between them.

  “But ’tis no’ fair. Ye need to find someone else and have a family.”

  “I dinnae want anyone else.”

  “But ye dinnae want me, either, and I must marry another.”

  She couldn’t leave until he had answers.

  “Ye cannae go back to the MacDonald. What if he is in league with Argyll?” Taking the bag from her hands, he tossed it onto the other side of the bed. It slid off and made a soft thunk as it hit the floor.

  “That’s insane.”

  “Stay with me a little longer. Just until I ken the truth.” His arm snaked around her waist, and his lips crashed down on her neck. He had to keep her here.

  She pushed him away. “Are ye using me to play some sick game with my uncle? Did ye sleep with me to get back at him by ruining my marriage possibilities?”

  “Nae.” But apparently she’d seen something
she didn’t like, because she shoved past him and walked out toward the main room.

  He was the only one who could protect her. No one else would be as vigilant. The danger she was in had frayed every nerve in his body. Yet, if she stayed, his situation would put her in more jeopardy.

  Suddenly, the knowledge that she would be walking out of his life again became real, and it killed him. Could he risk asking her to stay? Find a way to keep her here with him? Was there any way out of this life he’d created?

  But he knew the answer to that—maybe she was better off in Kentillie.

  …

  “I willnae let ye use me to get to my uncle.” Skye shook her head just as Brodie’s hand clasped hers.

  “Nae, I amnae trying to hurt him.”

  “Ye have never been good at lying to me, Brodie Cameron.” She tried to pull her hand free, but he held fast, looking at her as he had when she’d questioned him about his disappearances in the past. “Ye want to ken why I never came back? Ye were always gone and would lie about where ye were when I asked ye.”

  She took a steadying breath and let her gaze slide to his as the heartache played over again in her head. “Then ye left me alone, wondering where ye were, wondering if ye would come back.”

  A chill washed over her, and she shoved at him, attempting to put distance between them, but he tightened his hold, pulling her in, coiling his arms around her waist. “Father was terribly ill and ye left. I was so exhausted. I’d been trying to nurse him to health for days. I had no one when he died. I cried for hours, holding his hand, scared and alone, before I was able to get the strength to go find Alan.”

  Her thoughts jumped to the death of her mother, the baby foxes, her father, and then finally that of her babe while she’d been dropped off at Cairntay amongst people she didn’t know and had locked herself away. She remembered again why she couldn’t stay and why she had to go to the MacPhersons.

  She could never face another death alone.

  This time when she pushed, his arms loosened and fell to his sides. She moved to the window, staring out, not able to meet his gaze. “Every time you disappear, someone dies, and then ye are nowhere to be found.”

  Turning to look him in the eyes, she continued, “I couldnae trust ye to be here.”

  “Stay there. I’ll be right back.” He turned and walked away.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Brodie rushed toward Skye’s old room. Knowing the truth now, understanding why she had left him without a word, his heart ached at all they’d lost because of his quest to uncover the truth about her uncle, his quest to redeem himself, because of fate.

  From the cabinet in the corner of the room, he picked up a small, unassuming jar from the bottom shelf, removed the lid, and tipped the contents into his hand. He fingered the golden bands that still looked as shiny as they had the day he’d bought the ring. He had known then she would love it, but now he wondered if it was cursed.

  He’d bought it on one of his first missions, a trip he’d made to England with Lachlan and his cousin’s father before the previous laird had passed, the very same journey on which Lachlan’s father and he had put together the plan for him to start spying for the Clan Cameron and the Royalist cause. He had held onto the jewelry all these years.

  The shopkeeper had told him it was called a gimmel ring, and he’d been immediately drawn to it, using all the coin he’d brought with him, plus what his uncle had lent him, in order to purchase it for Skye.

  Images flashed in his head as he remembered the day he’d taken it out of its special hiding place to show Nora. She had just agreed to marry his eldest brother and he already considered her a sister. Wanting to get her advice on the best way to ask Skye to be his wife, he had rushed outside to show her.

  When he finally thought he had the right approach, and was about to go to ask Skye to marry him, Alexander Gordon had appeared at his house and requested his help on a mission in Inverness. He’d had no opportunity to tell anyone where they were going or even that he was leaving.

  The last thing he’d expected when he returned was to find Darach dead and Skye gone. He could show her now that he had loved her, explain to her that she had been the only one for him. But he couldn’t go back in time to be with her at her father’s death or during the loss of their child, nor could he promise to be there for her in the future.

  She’d lost faith in him. He could never explain his absences, couldn’t turn back time, but maybe if he showed her this ring, she would understand how much she had meant to him.

  A need to know whom she was to wed assailed him. Would the man be a Royalist and be able to keep her safe? And what if she now carried his babe? Could he live with another man raising his child?

  …

  When he reappeared, Brodie’s dimpled smile lit his cheeks. “On one of those trips, I bought this for ye.”

  His gaze drifted down as his nimble fingers showed Skye what he had apparently retrieved from her old room. Gold glinted as a ray of sun peeking in the window hit the small object. “I’ve held onto this for such a long time.” He pinched the base of a small ring and brought it up for her inspection. “When I found this, it made me think of us.”

  Small, intricately carved hands clasped each other in a sweet embrace. It was lovely and looked delicate in his grasp. He deftly pulled part of the ring apart to reveal a separate ring. A beautiful red stone carved in the shape of a heart had been hidden beneath.

  One hand covered her mouth while her other went to his palm. She gently fingered the stone and cool metal. She’d never seen anything like it.

  “I still cannae give you all the answers ye want, but ye should ken, ye always had my heart, Skye.”

  Fluttering started in her chest.

  His hand took hers, and he held it. His gaze was locked on hers, and he peered so deep inside her that the last of her defenses crumbled as all the ill feelings she had harbored over the years evaporated. She licked her lips, then her teeth nipped down on the corner of her mouth.

  “I saved it, hoping to be able to do this one day.” His thumb grazed back and forth over her knuckles, and tingles of awareness raced straight to her heart. He let go and put the pieces of the ring back together before taking her hand again.

  In his gaze, she saw a need so stark and sad that it called to the most primitive part of her being.

  “’Tis beautiful.” She breathed the words out almost like a whisper.

  He held the bands to her finger. “I cannae offer ye a future or undo what has been done, but this belongs to ye. It always has.”

  The cool metal slipped on smoothly, and his hand lingered on hers as he studied it on her finger.

  “Please stay until yer uncle comes. I promise nae to leave ye alone.”

  She nodded.

  Clearing his throat as if something had become lodged in it, he suddenly shifted, turning his back to her and acting as if the moment hadn’t just happened. “I’ll put more peat on the fire. ’Tis time for the midday meal. I told Mother we could come back for the late one.”

  Then he walked from the room, leaving her to wonder why, despite the feelings she knew he still held for her, he would not be willing to take her back. But she had an obligation as well, and it was best not to linger over what could have been.

  …

  The MacDonald had not shown, and Brodie found himself stabling his horse to make his way to the nearby tavern for a prearranged meeting with the leader of the Royalist Resistance. His thoughts kept drifting to Skye, alone at the cottage with only the many extra guards posted in strategic locations around the property reassuring him she was safe.

  Unfortunately, there was no way he could miss this meeting—he had too much vital information to offer, and was hoping to get answers, too.

  His informant lounged at a table looking more deadly than any other man he knew. Alexander Gordon was not a man to trifle with. Part of the Gordon clan had sided with Royalists, and the other side, Covenanters, but Alex had go
ne his own way and forged a band of warriors, militia men, and, of course, Isobel McLean.

  Giving the nearest tavern wench a wink as he shuffled to the table next to Alex’s, he used his best unsteady voice to call out, “A drink lass,” as he plopped down in the chair with his back to the Rebel leaders.

  “Yer late,” Alex clipped.

  “And I cannae stay long,” he muttered over his shoulder as he used his hand to block the movement of his lips. Motion caught his attention, and his gaze was pulled to the approaching barmaid.

  “Pleasure to see ye, Brodie,” the tavern wench purred as she came to stand in front of him. “If ye willnae pass out on me this time, we can head to a room in the back.” She plied him with a seductive smile as she set an ale down in front of him.

  Returning a provocative glance, he answered, “Now, I dinnae believe I would ever let a drink keep me from yer arms, Becca.” Her father came out of the back and called for her, probably to keep the pretty maiden from succumbing to his charms.

  “I dinnae ken how ye turn that on and off.” Was that a hint of amusement he heard from the man behind him?

  “It takes practice. Now do ye have any news for me? We have to make this quick.”

  “There is definitely an attack planned in Edinburgh, but the only names I’ve been able to get are Niall Campbell and Hamish Menzies. Ye will have to be certain someone is watching them.”

  “I’ll look into them. I have news for ye, too. When I was in Stirling, I heard rumors that Isobel’s identity has been compromised.” Becca was watching him again, so he saluted her with his cup and made a show of spilling a portion of the contents on the table.

  “She says someone has been attacking MacLeans,” Argyll’s most wanted drawled casually, but Brodie sensed a bite in the man’s tone.

  “I heard that. The Camerons have had some incidents as well.”

  “Who do ye think is behind it?”

  “I dinnae have enough information to make a guess.” He held back his suspicion that the MacDonald was behind the attacks. He asked the question that was eating at him, despite the desire to keep her name out of it. But Alexander might be the only way to learn what he needed. “I’ve heard Argyll has men out looking for the MacDonald’s niece. Have ye heard anything?”