To Conquer a Highlander

by Mary Wine

  It was the truth that she was becoming confused about just what she thought of remaining at Donan Tower, or of Torin, for that matter. He had honor, and that didn’t lend itself to her thinking ill of him.

  “That will do for the moment, but if yer own things are nae here, we’ll have to find ye something else for May Day. This blue does nothing for yer eyes.” Baeth eyed Shannon critically, and her fellow McLerens joined her.

  “I’ve no need to look pretty.”

  The head of house actually smiled at her. It was an expression that spoke of her wisdom and the fact that she considered herself more experienced than anyone else in the room.

  “Every lass needs to feel pretty on May morn. Celebrating the spring is a tradition that brings good luck. Don’t be turning yer nose up at that, or those naysayers in the clergy will be getting their way and we shall never see another maypole dance.”

  Shannon had to nod with agreement. For all that she had never been allowed a May-morning tumble, there was the dancing and merriment that helped drive the last of winters bitterness away.

  There is nothing preventing me from having a tumble this year.

  That idea stole her breath and flooded her with excitement. It began to pound through her, touching off little ideas of just what lovers did. Little recollections of overheard conversations overlapped inside her mind, tormenting her with the possibility of having Torin for her lover.

  “Well now, let’s do something with yer hair, lass. It seems to have a mind of its own.”

  Shannon sat down, her thoughts absorbing her. She was grateful for the help and too preoccupied to stubbornly insist on fending for herself. Her mind must be going soft. Such was often the fate of a captive. Only she’d expected to last a bit longer, retain some of her pride for more than a few days.

  That’s what came of spying. The clergy knew what they preached, for her one moment of weakness was pulling her farther away from the path of goodness.

  His kiss had been good and full of pleasure…

  She shivered, a delicate motion that rippled over her skin. Her lips were keenly sensitive once more, yearning for another kiss. She might want to argue against it, but she could not lie to herself. The pleasure had taken command of her, every muscle and all her thoughts too. There had been nothing, save the desire flooding her.

  A rush of water broke through her brooding. One of the women had pulled a rope off the wall that had a hook tied to the end of it. She’d hooked it through a bail on the high end of the tub and pulled on the rope until the tub tipped up onto the lower end. The water spilled out and ran down the sloped floor of the bathroom. Shannon stared at the way the floor was built up on one side of the room to allow the water to run downhill. It rushed toward an iron grate that was set into the wall at the farthest corner. The water easily escaped, and she heard it splattering on the stone foundation of the tower.

  Ingenious. If it weren’t for the laird, she just might discover herself pleased with where she had ended up. Life at Donan Tower would be comfortable.

  If she didn’t mind her thoughts, she’d find herself being drawn back toward that man for more of what she did find pleasing about him.

  ***

  “Ye are playing a game.”

  Shannon looked up to see who was talking to her. He had to be speaking to her, because there was no one else in the back kitchen. Up the stone steps she could hear the sounds of conversation filling the hall while everyone ate the last meal of the day.

  Connor Lindsey filled the door frame, his shoulders just as wide as Torin’s. But he had light hair instead of dark.

  She preferred Torin…

  Her hands curled into fists as the thought just blossomed in her mind. Connor Lindsey noticed and offered her a mocking grin.

  “If ye didna want to be noticed, ye should be in the hall instead of trying to prove those McLeren women wrong in thinking they are giving ye too much to do.”

  “I’ll suffer with yer noticing. Now go gloat to someone who is interested. There is no one here to notice ye tormenting me for sport.”

  Connor Lindsey moved down the steps instead. Shannon propped her hands on her hips and raised her chin. He watched her with narrowed eyes. They were as keen as Torin’s, but she did not have any trouble recalling that he was someone she was best to keep at arm’s length.

  “I could take ye away from Donan Tower.”

  “Oh could ye now?” Shannon didn’t care if her tone was mocking; the man was toying with her.

  “Ye don’t find that appealing?”

  “I suppose it depends on where ye were planning to take me.”

  His lips split in a roguish smile that flashed his teeth at her. “To Lindsey land, of course. I’ve a fine tower north of here. Birch Stone has a view of the sea from her towers.”

  “Spoken like a true Highlander.”

  He frowned at her, but his eyes sparkled with merriment, betraying the fact that he was still trying to tease her.

  “The Highlands are beautiful, lass. I’ll be happy to show them to ye.”

  He moved closer, doing it slowly to keep her gentle.

  “That’s close enough.”

  “I dinna think so.”

  She’d misjudged how close he really was and noticed exactly why when his hands appeared from where he’d kept them tucked between the folds of his kilt. He caught her upper arm, because her hands were still propped on her hips, making her elbows point out.

  She snarled at him, but he pulled her easily into his embrace.

  “Release me!”

  He flattened his hand against her back instead, smoothing along her spine. The touch relieved some of the tension that leaning over the washing sinks had left in her back, but Shannon preferred the ache to his touch. She balled up her fist and sent it toward the underside of his jaw. One advantage to having only brothers was that she had heard a fair bit of coaching on fighting from her father during supper.

  Connor Lindsey apparently knew a great deal more about fighting, because he turned his head and caught her fist in one of his large hands. She was free from his embrace, but only for a moment before he twisted her arm behind her back with his grip on her fist.

  “Now is that any way to be, lass?”

  “When ye force yer touch on me… aye!”

  His eyes darkened; his gaze dropped to her mouth. “I’m just thinking that ye could use a comparison to what Torin offered ye this morning.”

  She gasped, completely startled by the idea. No one had ever kissed her, and now she had two different men doing it on the same day? Her mind froze with shock.

  Connor took advantage of her uncertainty, bending down to place his mouth on top of her own. She rebelled, pulling her head back as far as her neck allowed. Connor followed her, his hand releasing her fist to slide up her spine and clamp around her head. He held her steady for his kiss, his lips becoming demanding when she refused to open her mouth for him. She could smell his skin, but it didn’t seem as pleasant as Torin’s had; in fact, all she did notice was how much more she preferred Torin’s kiss.

  Lifting her knee, she sent it up into the folds of his kilt with all the force she could.

  “Sweet Christ.”

  Connor Lindsey jumped back, releasing her. She’d been straining away from him so much, she stumbled and ended up against the sinks. Reaching into the sink, she pulled out the heavy clay pitcher she’d been cleaning up. It dripped water all down her front, but she gripped the handle tightly.

  “Get away from me, ye demon.”

  Connor drew in a deep breath and straightened up. Something glimmered in his eyes that made her shake the pitcher threateningly.

  “I’ll bust this across yer skull if ye dare touch me again. I swear it.”

  He grinned at her, only it was far from a friendly expression. There was a spark of challenge in his
eyes that told her he wanted to try her.

  “If ye have some notion about taking me away, I suggest you go argue with yer friend who brought me here and told me I cannot leave the tower. The pair of ye are well suited to one another with yer barbarian manners.”

  Connor Lindsey laughed. He threw his head back, and his chest shook with his amusement. Shannon felt her temper explode. She turned and scooped up a pitcher full of cold loch water.

  Once more Connor Lindsey moved faster than she’d anticipated. He closed the distance between them and grasped the top of the pitcher. His larger hand spanned the opening, and he forced her to pour the water back into the sink. She could have struggled to keep the pitcher but released it in favor of moving away from him.

  “I’ve already had a bath today, lass, and we don’t need me walking through the hall dripping water for the gossips to notice.”

  “Ye’re not worried about my reputation; ye just want to avoid having yer friend hear that ye offered to take me home with ye.”

  Connor Lindsey shrugged, his expression becoming guarded.

  “Well now, Shannon McBoyd, I admit that I am more concerned about Torin. The man is my friend, and that is not something I say lightly.” His expression hardened. “I needed to know if ye kissed him back this morning because ye are nae above using his lust against him. I’d have to take ye out of here if that were so.”

  “You kissed me to see if I was—”

  “A slut.”

  He said it firmly and without a hint of a flinch. Her temper boiled, and her hand closed into a fist once more. Connor Lindsey held up his hands in surrender, taking one long step away from her. That shocked her again.

  “Oh, get on with ye. I’ve got better things to do than suffer yer company.”

  He snorted with amusement. “That’s the first time I’m no’ offended that a lass told me washing dishes is more to her liking than I. Ye are a hard one, Shannon McBoyd.”

  “That seems to please ye and yer sense of protecting yer friend Torin McLeren. So grant me some peace by leaving.”

  “Aye, ye understand, then. That’s a point in yer favor. One I’m grateful for because I will nae have to battle with my friend over ye. Torin would have tried to keep ye out of his sense of honor because he’s the one that took ye.”

  “You would have fought with a friend over me?”

  Connor tilted his head slightly. “As sure as I enjoyed stealing a taste of ye.”

  He paused with one foot on the bottom step. His blue eyes studied her for a long moment.

  “But I’d be a poor friend to leave him with ye if you were going to try and twist him about yer finger. I owe the man better than that.”

  “But ye have not the same sense of honor when it comes to how I am treated?”

  He shrugged. “If ye act the slut, ye dinna deserve to be treated with respect.” He pegged her with a hard look. “Torin is an honorable man; sometimes I have to save him from himself.”

  A shiver went down her spine. His eyes were icy cold now, telling her that leaving with him would have been a mistake. A very large one. Shannon turned her back on him. She heard him chuckle, but the sound grew softer and softer as he left.

  Relief flooded her. The urge to wipe her mouth across her forearm was strong, but that only made her frown. Connor Lindsey was a fairly handsome man. There was no reason for her to loathe his kiss or to reject it so violently.

  Yet she had. The impulse to struggle had been fierce. But worse still was the budding feeling of achievement that was working its way through her. She’d passed Connor Lindsey’s test, and that pleased her. It shouldn’t have. On principle alone she should refuse to care at all about what either man thought of her character.

  She sighed, her hand freezing on the edge of the sink. To do that would be to become shallow. She did care, did notice that Torin was an honorable man, which was why he fascinated her so. Connor Lindsey was more ruthless, but not without honor. The man would be loyal to those he deemed worthy of it.

  Torin McLeren had earned Connor’s friendship, something that would not come easily. That made her close proximity to Torin all that much harder to bear, because she was beginning to respect him herself; that sort of thing might lead to liking him, and maybe more. She’d just have to be grateful that he slept in a different part of the castle than she did. Distance would be her greatest ally.

  ***

  “It’s a fine chamber, hopefully as well as the one ye had beneath yer father’s roof.”

  Baeth snapped her fingers at the girl working in the small fireplace that was set into the wall. The head of house was contemplating Shannon’s reaction to the chamber she was being given. It was far better than the storage room she’d occupied growing up.

  Except that it was one floor beneath Torin’s chamber.

  “’Tis too fine. The workroom is well.”

  “Nay. The laird bid me place ye here. It’s fitting, you being the daughter of a laird.”

  The girl stoking the fire nodded, but it was the look of approval that made Shannon want to squirm. There was more than a hint of suggestion on both women’s faces and a little too much excitement brewing in her belly. There was no point in arguing; Torin’s staff wouldn’t go against their master. Especially for the daughter of their enemy.

  The world had certainly gone mad in the last week and taken her along with it.

  “The bed is strung well and tight. We even found a few of yer things. I’m pleased to see that my kin took the time to bring yer possessions along.”

  That was a kindness that she hadn’t dared to expect. Walking across the room, Shannon looked down at the new dress she’d been working on. It had only been a fortnight, yet she reached out to touch the half-sewn skirt as though it had been years.

  “Good night.”

  Shannon looked up and inclined her head without thinking about it. Baeth shot her another pleased look before motioning the other girl out the door before she followed. The door shut with a soft snap, and Shannon stared at the smooth wood that composed it. There was no way to bar it. Well, there was no point in quibbling over what she did not have. Somewhere within the thick curtain wall, Fergus was no doubt longing for better than what he’d been given. She doubted Torin had been kind to the man, even if he was a secretary to the Earl of Atholl.

  Yet he was being kind to her.

  Sweeping her gaze across the chamber, she took in the furnishings. They were sturdy and well made. A table was set against the wall, and her dress was laid out carefully on its smooth top. Fabric was expensive, no matter whether you were servant or noble. Her new dress was placed with care for that fact of life. Candles sat in two holders there, ready to be lit should she decide to work. The fireplace was small, but it warmed the chamber well. It also had a chimney to draw the smoke out. Set near the fireplace was a bed, hung with sturdy wool curtains and covered with a canopy to make it cozy during winter. A thick ticking was lain over the ropes that were strung through the frame. It was wide enough for two people, unless the other person was Torin. The man would dwarf the bed frame.

  Why did she keep thinking about the man like he was going to be her lover?

  Visualizing him in the bed meant she was longing to have him sharing it with her. For certain she was going mad to allow such ideas to flourish.

  Heat licked across her cheeks, and it did not come from the fire. She turned her back on the bed, only to find herself facing the window. The shutters were closed and locked against the night, but her hand itched to reach for the latch.

  Her blush grew hotter as she realized that the chamber overlooked the spot from which she’d spied on Torin the night before.

  Was he down there tonight? Curiosity taunted her with how simple it would be to look down on what she desired.

  With a snort, she sat down on the small bench near the table and picked up her skir
t. She would not open the shutters. The night would be long enough without another glimpse of how much perfection Torin McLeren was blessed with. She was already thinking about how much more she liked his kiss compared to Connor’s. She began to pull the needle through the skirt while her mind continued to tumble with her troubled thoughts.

  It was a curse for her. One that brought longing and hunger from which there was no escape. Not so long as she was imprisoned within Donan Tower.

  Or was there?

  If she weren’t a child living beneath her father’s rule any longer, the rules were different. She looked up, soaking in the details of the chamber. Things were very different and very uncertain. Her teeth went into her lower lip as she contemplated the facts. Who knew how bleak her fate might be? Accepting that fact somehow made her more hungry for the things that she had been denied. A thirst for more of life’s pleasures began to torment her. It was as if she craved a reward for braving the harsher side of reality.

  There were so many things she had never done, so many experiences she had never sampled. Torin’s kiss surfaced from her memory, and she did not banish it. Instead she let the sensations flow through her again, smiling at the way her lips tingled. It had been delightful. Every one of her senses clamored for more.

  And why not?

  Was she not a woman? No one would believe she was still a maiden after being held in the Highlands anyway. The needle was frozen halfway through a stitch, and her gaze returned to the closed shutters. But she remained on the bench and pulled the needle free, taking up the slack in the thread.

  She’d think a bit more. Just because she’d decided she might do as other women did, didn’t mean she would run to toss up her skirts. A tumble wasn’t what she craved. She wanted a lover. Maybe Torin, and then again, maybe she’d send the arrogant laird away. She wanted a lover who would hold her tenderly and tease her with sweet kisses, not brand her with passion hot enough to leave an obsession behind.