Highlanders for the Holidays: 4 Hot Scots

by Glynnis Campbell

  Her voice wobbled as she said the last part, which infuriated her.

  “Ye could never disappoint me,” he said, his eyes fierce. “I don’t care if ye have The Sight.”

  “Since I don’t,” she said, “will you use your skills in bed to lure another woman here to serve your clan?”

  “You’re the one I want, the only one,” he said through clenched teeth. “For God’s sake, Lily, I love ye.”

  His words sucked the breath out of her. He looked as shocked by what he had said as she was. Even he knew he had gone too far this time.

  Her heart could not take any more. She backed away from him until her heel hit the bottom step of the stairs.

  “How could you say that?” she said, shaking her head. “You’ve no cause to hurt me further.”

  “I should not have said it, not now,” he said. “But it is the truth.”

  “Everything you ever said to me was a lie.” She could not fight the tears now, and she wanted to wound him for that final lie. “You’ve hurt me more than the foul man who raped me in my shop.”

  He recoiled as if she had slapped him. The pain and shock in his eyes told her she had hit her mark.

  “I trusted you!” she shouted, and then she turned and ran up the stairs.

  Chapter 14

  Roderick was in command of the twenty men on the boat, but unlike the last time they sailed, he spoke little to them. He seemed weighed down by sadness—or perhaps it was guilt. He did not speak to Lily at all, except to ask if she needed anything, but his gaze was often on her.

  Lily felt herself softening toward him by the hour. He was unfailingly considerate, even tucking wool blankets around her that had been treated with grease to shed the rain. Though he deserved to suffer for deceiving her, Roderick had saved her life and protected her from Harold and the other Douglas men.

  When he sat down beside her after two days at sea, she was near to forgiving him. She would not, however, let herself forget that he had tried to control and use her—and he would do it again if she let him.

  “This is Skye,” he said, nodding toward the island they were fast approaching.

  The entire journey through the isles had been breathtaking, but this island, with its rocky shores, green hills dotted with sheep, and blue-gray mountains, was even more beautiful than the rest.

  “There’s something I need to say to ye before we arrive,” he said.

  Lily folded her arms and waited for his apology—not that it would make any difference.

  “I’m so verra sorry about what happened to ye back in London.” His eyes looked haunted as he spoke. “I wish I could kill the man who stole your innocence.”

  This was not what she had expected him to say.

  “I shouldn’t have mentioned you in the same breath as that man.” She felt a bit guilty herself about throwing that in his face, as if what he had done to her was worse. Though Roderick had hurt her more deeply, that was only because she had allowed herself to trust him.

  “I wish ye had told me about it earlier,” he said, staring at the sea. “I wouldn’t have pressed ye that night if I’d known.”

  “You didn’t have to press me much,” she admitted, remembering how she had melted at his first touch. “I wanted to do it.”

  She waited for the rest of his apology, but he seemed to have nothing else to say to her.

  “Is that all you feel guilty for?” she finally asked him. “Not for deceiving me and trying to trap me here for the rest of my life?”

  “I never meant to force ye to stay past the winter storms.” He shrugged. “I thought if ye were meant to be our seer, ye would come to see that yourself. If not, you’d go.”

  “Don’t lie to me again,” she said between clenched teeth. “Your grandmother told you I was the next seer, and you believed her.”

  “Truly, I could not be sure what my grandmother meant to tell me,” he said. “Once ye meet her, ye might understand.”

  If he were not twice her size, she would throw him overboard. Instead, she turned away from him and fixed her gaze on the shoreline of the island.

  They were both silent as the boat rounded a point and sailed into a large inlet bordered by green rolling hills on one side and rocky cliffs and mountains on the other. Her curiosity got the better of her when the men sailed the boat to the mountainous side and into a small, deserted bay next to a sheer rock cliff.

  “Why are we stopping here?” she asked. “Is there something wrong with the boat?”

  “My grandmother’s cottage is here,” Roderick said, pointing straight up.

  Lily tilted her head back. Now she understood why Roderick and the Lord of the Isles were not concerned she would run away from the old woman’s cottage.

  “There’s not even a village,” she said, looking at the empty beach.

  “I fear it will be quite dull, especially for a London lass,” he said after he lifted her down from the boat. “But ’tis better than spending the winter in a cold dungeon.”

  That did not sound encouraging. As escape appeared unlikely, she tried to adjust to the notion of being in this desolate place for the entire winter.

  “I’ll be across the inlet at Dunscaith Castle,” he said, pointing to the impressive fortress on the opposite shore. “I’ll sail over every week or so to see how the two of ye fare.”

  “You’re leaving me alone here?”

  “I must return to my duties,” he said. “I’m captain of the guard at the castle.”

  He led her to where rough-hewn steps had been cut into the side of the cliff.

  “The steps to the cottage are slippery when it’s wet, which is most the time in the winter, so be careful,” Roderick said. “Go first so I can catch ye if ye fall.”

  Good heavens, he was not joking. She imagined herself plunging into the sea, but she was not about to let him know that she was frightened half to death. After saying a prayer, she started up. The climb up the side of the cliff was harrowing and so steep that she was soon out of breath.

  “Anything else ye ought to warn me about?” she said between gasps for air when they were finally nearing the top.

  Roderick emitted what sounded like a string of curses in Gaelic. “I’ve told her time and again not to do that. One day, she’ll fall into the sea.”

  Lily followed his gaze upward and gasped when she saw a figure with gray hair and a wizened face leaning precariously over the edge to peer down at them. The woman must be mad.

  “There is one more thing I should warn ye about,” he said as they continued up. “My grandmother speaks only Gaelic.”

  So, Lily could not even speak with the mad old woman she would be alone with for weeks on end. Perhaps she should have stayed in the dungeon.

  “But it won’t matter much,” he added, “as she usually knows what you’re thinking.”

  * * *

  The moment Lily entered the cottage and saw the rows of drying herbs hanging from the rafters and the shelves filled with bottles and vials, her face lit up like she’d come home.

  “Oh!” she said, clasping her hands together. “This is so much like my shop.”

  Roderick had not seen Lily smile since the bonfire, and it did his heart good.

  “I don’t recognize that plant,” she said, crossing the tiny cottage to examine a bunch of tied herbs hanging next to the hearth.

  Before he could introduce them, she and his grandmother were chattering, each in her own language, as Lily pointed to various herbs or picked up vials and sniffed them. After a time, his grandmother waved Lily onto a stool and set a hot drink next to her on the table. Her feisty terrier made his appearance then. Lily’s laughter filled the cottage when the wee dog jumped into her lap and started licking her face.

  Roderick told himself he could leave with peace of mind now, knowing she would not be so miserable here after all.

  But there would be no peace for him.

  His grandmother met his gaze, and he knew she saw into his heart. With Lily
diverted, she sidled over to him.

  “She’s not our next seer, is she?” he asked.

  “Nay, she’s not.”

  “That means she’ll leave,” he said, his heart sinking to his feet. “What am I to do, Seanmhair?”

  “Ye must persuade her to stay.” She patted his arm and recited the old expression, “Chan ann leis a’chiad bhuille thuiteas a’chraobh.” Tis not with the first stroke that the tree falls.

  * * *

  Lily hummed to herself as she and Seanmhair hung greenery over the door. The smells of the delicious venison stew they had made earlier filled the cottage. Odd, how this was so much like her mad ramblings about that healer who lived on the border before Roderick found her.

  Seanmhair gave her a smug smile and pointed to herself. Apparently, the old woman believed she had put that dream in Lily’s head and it was her in it. Seanmhair practiced ancient magic, so perhaps she had done it.

  “’Tis lucky ye live here,” Lily told her. “If people in London saw you tossing herbs on the fire and mumbling chants, they’d burn you, for certain.”

  She sighed when Seanmhair spoke what Lily assumed were the same words in Gaelic and motioned impatiently for Lily to repeat them. The woman did this to her all day long.

  “I’ll be leaving in a few weeks,” Lily reminded her, as she did every day, then she repeated it in Gaelic without prompting since she knew the words well by now.

  Seanmhair rocked from side to side as she mumbled another chant. The old woman was strange, but she was good company, and Lily had grown fond of her in the week since her arrival.

  “Will you teach me some of those spells?” Lily asked with a laugh.

  She understood enough of Seanmhair’s reply to gather that the answer was an emphatic no, but Lily intended to wheedle a few spells out of her eventually.

  “Roderick,” the old woman said, with a nod toward the door.

  Lily’s pulse jumped. She swiped uselessly at her ungovernable hair and brushed her palms on the skirt of her gown. Though he came nearly every day, she always felt unprepared to see him.

  The door opened with a rush of cold air, and Roderick filled the doorway looking so handsome she had to stifle a sigh.

  Seanmhair poked Lily’s shoulder and handed her the cloak she had stolen from the baker’s son a lifetime ago.

  “All right, we’re going.” Lily spoke the simple words in Gaelic without thinking.

  As if to reward her, Seanmhair broke off a piece of greenery from the pile on the table that they had gathered earlier and stuck it in Lily’s hair.

  “Thank you,” Lily said in Gaelic.

  Roderick winked at his grandmother and took Lily’s arm. Lily was well aware that the two were working together to persuade her not to return to London in the spring. She did not quite know what to make of it, for surely his grandmother at least knew Lily did not have the makings of a great seer.

  Lily and Roderick walked the path along the cliff, as they usually did. Each time he came to the cottage, she felt her defenses weaken.

  “Aren’t you needed at the castle?”

  “We’ve no enemies likely to attack while Alexander is at peace with the Crown, and we’ve plenty of well-trained warriors at the castle.” He paused. “What we will need soon is a healer, as my grandmother fears she’ll no longer be able to make the trip across the inlet come spring.”

  The sail across the inlet was short, and the old woman seemed well enough to Lily.

  As they walked side by side, she felt his desire as if it were something physical pulling their bodies together. To break the spell, she stepped off the path. The view from the cliff usually soothed her.

  “’Tis so beautiful here,” she said, as she took in the wide vista of the sea dotted with islands and the dreamlike layers of gray-blue mountains on the mainland beyond.

  “I didn’t expect ye to like Skye,” he said as he came to stand beside her. “I feared you’d suffer from loneliness in such a quiet place.”

  Lily liked the quiet, and she was accustomed to keeping her own company. At least here, she had his grandmother and Roderick’s visits. In truth, she had not realized how lonely her life in London had become since her sister married and the old healer died. She was not about to confess that, however.

  “Anyone would appreciate how lovely it is here,” she said.

  “Maigrid hated it,” Roderick said, staring at the horizon.

  “I can tell that her leaving still pains you.”

  “She hurt my pride, that’s all.” He shrugged. “We weren’t suited. Ach, she even hated my grandmother.”

  “Hated Seanmhair?” Lily was appalled. “I regret not slapping that woman when I had the chance.”

  “Seanmhair feels much the same,” he said. “I had to talk her out of casting a spell to cover Maigrid in boils.”

  Lily was laughing when Roderick turned her to face him and plucked the sprig from her hair. When she saw that it was mistletoe, she swallowed hard. She liked his grandmother, but the old woman was a sly dog.

  “Seanmhair says ’tis verra, verra bad luck to refuse a kiss under mistletoe,” he said with a devilish grin. “And she knows such things.”

  Lily told herself that a brief, lighthearted kiss would be harmless, but she knew it was a lie. She was playing with fire—and she didn’t care.

  As he leaned toward her, her heart raced and she rose up on her toes. His lips barely brushed hers at first, and yet the kiss set off a burst of longing like the torch that exploded the bonfire into flame at the Yuletide celebration.

  She held on to Roderick as if her life depended upon it as they devoured each other with hot, hungry kisses. When he backed her against the lone tree on the cliff and lifted her off her feet, she wrapped her legs around him.

  Waves crashed below them, the surf echoing the storm of passion between them. Yes. Yes. Yes. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once, massaging her breasts, running along her thighs, squeezing her backside. She had missed him so much.

  Roderick got control of himself first and leaned back, panting. Why did he stop? She could feel his hard shaft against her through their clothes. Oh, how she wanted him.

  “My grandmother knew the moment she saw ye that you’re not the next seer,” he said. “You’ll be free to go, if ye still want to.”

  Lily still felt dazed with passion and struggled to understand why he was speaking of this now.

  “But ye don’t have to leave,” he said, his dark blue eyes searching her face. “Ye can change your mind and stay.”

  “I have my shop and…” She could not think of a single other reason for returning. After a long moment, she asked, “Why should I stay?”

  “Because I love ye,” he said. “I want ye to be my wife.”

  As she looked into Roderick’s beautiful face, he appeared so sincere. Dare she believe him? No one had ever loved her, except her sister and Linnet.

  “Ye belong here,” he said. “Ye belong with me.”

  She was so confused that she did not know what she wanted or what was true anymore.

  “But if you’re going to leave,” he said, cupping her face, “I don’t want to do this.”

  She realized she still had her back against the tree and her legs were wrapped around his hips. He was right—this was not something she ought to decide in the midst of passion. Until now, she had not seriously contemplated remaining here, marrying Roderick—or marrying at all. She needed time to think. She dropped her legs, and he set her on her feet.

  “We should go back,” she said, and started off without him.

  Chapter 15

  Roderick had not visited the cottage in three days.

  Lily found herself looking toward the door again and again. Had he given up on her? She was glad that Seanmhair kept her busy, cleaning her cottage from top to bottom for the new year, or Hogmanay, but the old woman was in a foul mood.

  Lily had become quite good at deciphering the instructions Seanmhair gave her in a mix o
f Gaelic and gestures. Yet Seanmhair was impatient as she handed her the broom and indicated that Lily must sweep the ashes from the hearth to sweep out the bad luck of the past year and start the new year fresh. After Lily carried the ashes outside, Seanmhair motioned for her to take a long walk and not come back soon.

  Lily took Seanmhair’s little dog Beag with her to keep her company. As she watched him race after a squirrel, she thought a dog like Beag would be good at keeping the rats out of her shop. But would he be happy in the city, crowded with people and buildings?

  Would she be happy?

  She had told herself that she never wanted a husband, a man who would try to control her and steal her earnings. Yet the notion of being married to Roderick did not strike her in the same way. Though he could be heavy-handed when he believed her safety was at risk, he would not interfere with her work as a healer. He certainly respected his grandmother, and he’d made it clear he would be pleased to have Lily serve as the castle’s healer.

  She had been content in London, but that was before she had come to this island. As she continued her walk, she drank in the beauty of the mountains and sea, the fresh scents in the clean air, and the freedom of scrambling over the rocky hillside. She would miss all of these pleasures, but she could survive without them.

  She was less certain she could survive without Roderick.

  And she did not want to.

  “Come,” she called to the dog as she turned around. “If he’ll still have me, I’m going to stay.”

  * * *

  “Where’s Lily?” Roderick asked as he entered the cottage.

  “I sent her out with Beag,” Seanmhair said, with an impatient wave of her hand. “The lass is learning our language so quickly that we cannot say what we must with her here.”

  “I don’t know what else I can do.” Roderick paced the tiny cottage feeling like a caged animal. “She doesn’t want to be my wife.”

  “Ye must keep her here.”