Protection By Her Deceptive Highlander (Iron 0f The Highlands Series Book 5)

by Emilia Ferguson

  Barra nodded, feeling puzzled. “Yes, I am…” she began, but before she could finish, he smiled at her warmly.

  “Well, then,” he said. “I am pleased indeed. It’s about time the castle had a new seamstress. With a big garrison, things are always needing patches.”

  “Brodgar!” Barra stared at him, amazed. “You mean, me? I’ll go to the castle? I’ll work there..?” She shook her head, feeling too surprised.

  He grinned and rested a hand on her shoulder, smiling into her eyes. “Aye,” he said softly. “I cannot bear to be parted from you, Barra. Not a second. I want you there every single day.”

  Following A Long Absence

  Brodgar rode at the head of his men. They trailed out behind him by perhaps ten paces’ length, the sound of the hoofs muted by the mud as well as by the distance. He twisted around to look over his shoulder, feeling his heart thump. He was nervous, despite the heavy sword at his side or the five well-armed men behind him.

  “Safer this way,” he muttered.

  He had experienced too many ambushes these last days. He wasn’t about to let his men ride into another unawares. That meant that he was riding out at the head of his men, drawing the shots of the possible ambush to him. He glanced back again, checking that the formation was being kept up. Barra was in the center, with Alex behind her and Luke at the head.

  “Good,” he murmured to himself.

  Alex and Luke were seasoned fighters. He trusted they would keep her safe. As he rode on, he considered what he had just seen. Barra was riding well. She was riding so well, in fact, that he hadn’t even noticed, just taken for granted that she had been able to ride.

  He looked over at her, seated so confidently. Her hair was loose and hanging around her shoulders, back straight, hands on the reins. Her eyes were focused ahead and he thought he had never seen anything look so fine.

  He shook his head, feeling impressed by the way she’d adapted swiftly. Anybody would think that she had ridden for years, not that she’d first been put on the back of a horse last week!

  “She learns quickly.”

  He felt himself frown worriedly. The idea of employing her had come to him the previous night, and he had suggested it without much thought. The more he thought about it, the more he wondered about it.

  “Having her there in the castle will be…strange.”

  Keeping her under the nose of his uncle, who would certainly disapprove of their love, was going to be difficult, if not dangerous. He didn’t like to think of what would happen to her if his uncle realized the depth of his emotions.

  “And that’s not the only danger.”

  War was upon them, and he was taking her to a contested garrison. There would be fighting there, maybe even blockading. He might have brought her into danger. Where there were men, there would also be danger in any case.

  He bit his lip. Luke, he trusted. The others, to a lesser extent. He didn’t know them as well. Lewis, who was riding beside Alex at the rear of the group, he trusted with his life. He would sooner die than let him, or Barra, be hurt.

  “And that’s naught I would say for the laird, my uncle.”

  He bit his lip. His uncle was untrustworthy simply because of scheming. He seemed to be always thinking ahead, weighing gains and losses and feeling little for anything or anyone besides what honor demanded.

  Brodgar looked down at the path, guiding his horse into the forest. He had set the pace at a trot, thinking Barra would barely manage to keep up, but now, when he saw how well she was doing, the pace could increase, and he leaned into a canter.

  “Two miles to go, sir!” Luke called from behind him. Brodgar nodded, and turned in the saddle to shout back to him.

  “I know!”

  They rode on. He slowed a little, saving his horse from exhaustion, as Luke suggested. He was looking forward to when they would stop to take a rest. Then he would be able to speak to Barra.

  His mouth twisted into a smile as he recalled holding her the night before. Her body was so soft, so curved. He loved the way it felt to have her pressed close against him, the softness of her molding to the hardness of his chest.

  He winced, knowing that if he let himself think too hard about that, he would forget himself and his tasks and spend the whole day lost in a haze of longing.

  He had nothing he could do about it, though – they were riding fast across the countryside now, and it would not be long before they reached his uncle’s home. He glanced back at the men again, checking that they were all following behind. They were keeping in formation and he decided he had seen nothing to disturb him.

  “Sir?” Luke called out. He sounded tense.

  Brodgar turned around sharply. “What is it?” he called back.

  “Over yonder!” Luke gestured towards the hills he could just see through the trees. There were riders there, and they had banners streaming overhead. Brodgar tensed.

  Curse him! My uncle.

  He cursed inwardly. Of all the things he had not thought to plan for, the possibility of his uncle riding to meet him was one of them. He nodded to Luke.

  “Aye, I see them.”

  There was nothing he could do. He glanced back at Barra, and then resolutely over the hills to where his uncle was riding up.

  “Sir!” The man riding at the head of the column stopped sharply, saluting crisply as he did so.

  Brodgar winced. He looked down at himself, feeling at least relieved that his men had brought him a change of clothes. In some way, at least, he looked worthy of the role of heir to Blackridge.

  “Greetings, Callan,” he called, swinging his leg over and dismounting. He walked over to the foot of his uncle’s horse and raised a hand to his brow, acknowledging the man as the head of his family and immediate superior.

  “Greetings, uncle,” he said. He looked up at that hard face.

  His uncle looked down. The piercing black eyes – McIlvor eyes, characteristically dark – were intimidating and cold. His hair hung in dark ringlets to his shoulders, his beard likewise long, but neatly brushed. His face was gaunt and merciless.

  “Nephew,” he said. “You took your time.”

  “My apologies,” he said coolly. “I was waylaid on the road.”

  “Seems like,” his uncle said carefully, “you had a good time.”

  Brodgar whipped around to see his uncle’s cold gaze focusing on the woman riding closer. Barra and the escort drew to a halt. He saw her expression change as it alighted on his uncle, who was staring at her with a look that stayed his breath.

  “Uncle, that is Barra Hume. She is our new seamstress.”

  “Oh, is that so?” his uncle made a soft sound that could be chuckling. “Well, we shall see.”

  Brodgar felt his face flush. He fought the urge to draw his dagger. He had never felt more anger than he did right then.

  “Barra is an employee at the castle,” he said with a voice dangerously low and trembling. “I will be responsible for her protection. She is to be well treated.”

  “I’m sure she is,” his uncle said lightly. He leaned forward in his saddle, gauntlet gloves tight around the pommel of the knightly saddle. “But we are not here to talk pleasantries. You have been neglecting your duties and now we are facing danger. I need somebody to command my fort, Blackfield. You will ride hence.”

  Brodgar almost collapsed, felled the second time that day by the sheer arrogance of the man. He had only just arrived, and he was already being sent off, like a junior guardsman, without so much as a rest?

  “My men and I will take repast in your hall first, sir,” he said. He lifted his eyes to his uncle’s slim face, his gaze a challenge.

  “As you wish.” His uncle shrugged. “I deny the comfort of my hall to no man.”

  Brodgar felt his hands curl into fists. Even here, his uncle insulted him, choosing to remind everyone that he extended the same courtesy to all travelers. He was not even being acknowledged as his nephew and the heir to the earldom.

 
; He turned around as Luke rode up to his shoulder. “We ride to the hall,” he said tightly.

  “Yes, sir.” Luke nodded. He touched his forehead as he glanced at his laird, but he did not offer more obeisance than that. Brodgar felt his stomach tighten with worry for him, even as his heart appreciated it.

  He looked up to see his uncle plastering a neutral expression over his affronted pride. He nodded.

  “I will go ahead to inform the cook of your arrival. And to make rooms ready for all of you, including the seamstress.” He turned around before Brodgar could say anything, riding off. As one, his escort followed him.

  Brodgar mounted his horse and walked it to beside Luke. He lifted a shoulder. “Let’s go.”

  Behind him, the five men of his escort fell into step. He turned around to look at Barra. She was sitting upright, face blank except for her eyes, which were wide with fear.

  “Curse him,” he muttered.

  “Yes, sir,” Luke commented from beside him.

  Brodgar tried not to smile, as the words touched him despite his anger. Together, wheeling their horses to rejoin the path, they rode towards the fort.

  The gates of the fortress loomed up before him, grim and stone. He looked up at the wall, noticing that there were more guards there than he remembered. His uncle was clearly concerned for the invasion, which surprised him. He hadn’t expected him to do more than many of the nobles, who were remaining aloof from the conflict.

  “Lord Brodgar!” a man standing at the gate called. “Welcome back.”

  Brodgar felt a strange mix of pride and shame fill him. He had deserted these men, riding away to join the resistance alone. They were ready to acknowledge him.

  “Greetings,” Brodgar nodded.

  “His lordship welcomes you, sir,” the guard said, standing back to let Brodgar and his escort pass. “He has set out a meal in the great hall.”

  “Thank you,” Brodgar said politely, and waved his escort in through the gate behind him. As they rode in, he fell into step beside Barra.

  “I will keep you away from him,” he murmured. “Stay by me.”

  Barra nodded, though she looked frightened. “I will. Where will I stay?”

  Brodgar swallowed hard. “I will find you somewhere,” he said tightly. “Come with me.”

  He dismounted as a man came up to take his horse, holding the bridle so that Barra too could dismount. When she was standing on the ground in front of him, he looked into her eyes, ignoring the stable hands who helped his escort, and watched the two of them curiously.

  “I will keep you safe,” he said again. “But first, we have to eat.”

  “Brodgar, I…”

  “I will stay with you throughout dinner,” he said firmly. “I will not let you come to harm.”

  He hoped that he could do so.

  A New Vista

  Barra drew a long breath as she followed the woman up the winding steps. She tried to forget everything about what had just happened, which for the moment was not hard because she was distracted by the sheer scale of the castle.

  The steps she took echoed eerily in the vast space of the entrance. She had never been in such a huge building in her entire life. It was frightening. The weight of the walls alone felt intimidating.

  “…and the laird had the east wing repaired, because the wall fell in during the rain,” the woman who led her up the steps was saying.

  “I see,” Barra murmured. She followed her up into the dark hallway, her heart thudding. She couldn’t stop glancing up at the roof, which hovered perhaps five times the height of a man above her head. It was so dark up there that she could barely see the ribs of the vault.

  “And when he…lass?” the maid turned around, a frown on her brow.

  “What is it?” Barra asked, feeling her heart clench. She hadn’t meant to cause offense!

  The woman looked at her with a nervous frown. “Are you alright, lass? You look unwell.”

  Barra nodded. “I’m fine. Thank you,” she replied.

  “It’s big, isn’t it?” the woman grinned. “I was terrified, when I came to work here! You’d think that it could swallow you whole! I did nae come out of my chamber for a week – or only if someone else came out with me! It’s terrifying.”

  Barra had to grin. “Really?” she asked. “I mean, a week?”

  “For certain!” the woman laughed. “I’m Addie, by the way.” She stuck out a hand.

  “Hello,” Barra said, taking her hand shyly. It was strange, being welcomed. She looked into the woman’s dark eyes and felt that she had found a friend. “I’m Barra.”

  “Well, then!” Addie nodded. “I reckon we’ll be good friends. Come on, Barra,” she said, leading her up the steps. “I reckon you’ll want to get warm before the banquet.”

  “Aye,” Barra murmured. She felt her stomach churn with pain. She hated the thought of being down there, having that man look at her the way he had looked at her earlier. He was like a predator.

  “Aye! It’s a rare thing, having the earl throwing feasts!” the woman grinned. “He’s not the sort to be throwing his wealth around.” She winked.

  Barra felt her lips lift in a smile. Hearing the earl criticized, even in a small way, made the fear lessen somewhat. She let the woman lead her up a second set of stairs to a door.

  “Here we go! Here’s the servant’s quarters. This was where our old seamstress stayed – it’s the finest room in this wing of the house,” she added with a raised brow.

  “Thank you,” Barra murmured. She felt her stomach clench sickeningly. She didn’t like the thought of being set above the other servants – she wanted to make friends, not be divided from them.

  “It’s chilly in the winter, though,” Addie grinned at her. “Best light a big fire.”

  “Thank you,” Barra murmured. She went into the room and, when Addie had departed, shut the door.

  It was a large room, at least in comparison to what she had seen before, the ceiling high above her head. There was a fireplace in one corner, but it was cold, and the ashes hard in the grate. She dragged some logs from the small pile beside the fireplace, and bent down to light them, checking that the chimney was not blocked over with soot.

  When it was burning, she held her hands to the blaze, shivering. Somebody knocked at the door.

  “Miss?” a voice called through the wood. It was a woman’s voice, and Barra opened the door. A different woman was on the doorstep and she looked up shyly.

  “Master sent this for you,” she said. “He said to wear it for the banquet.”

  Barra shivered. “The laird did?”

  “No,” the woman smiled warmly. “His nephew. Take it, do. You need something besides those travel stained things.”

  “Thank you,” Barra nodded.

  She waited until the woman had gone before she tried on the new dress. It was wool, dyed white and decorated with blue thread. The skirt was full, the waist low. A tie of blue wool went around the waist. The neck was low-cut, and Barra felt her cheeks flush as she saw how it accented her bust. She stared into the bowl of water on the night stand, where her reflection showed clearly.

  The face that looked back at her was pale and oval, her eyes wide and clear blue. A delicate flush was in her full cheeks, her lips dark red. Her eyes were framed with thick lashes, the low neck of the frock accenting her pale skin.

  Barra felt her heart tighten. She felt a mix of alarm and excitement. She had never thought she could look like that before, and the thought was exciting.

  “Come on,” a voice said from outside the door, though it didn’t sound particularly hurried. “Let’s go downstairs.”

  Barra hurriedly dried her face on a linen square, checked the lie of her gown and went through the door. Addie looked at her with amazement.

  “Why, lass! You’re lovely!”

  Barra blushed to the roots of her hair. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  She followed Addie down the stairs and into the great hall.


  The hall was vast, the walls soaring up over her head. There were fires burning in the big hearths, and a set of high, small windows let in what was left of the daylight. She looked around the vast space, breathing the scent of fresh rushes on the floor and hearing the murmur of talk at the long table.

  “Miss Hume,” Luke said, as she stood in the entrance.

  He was seated at one of the tables with Brodgar beside him, and some of the other men-at-arms. The other men were sitting at one of the long benches that stretched down the length of the hall, further away from the light and altogether less comfortable-looking.

  Barra tried to open her mouth, but it felt like her words were stuck in her throat. She looked down at her feet, too afraid to take a step into the hall. She felt like a fool, and spots of color rose in her cheeks as she stood there. At no other time in her life had she felt so utterly out of her depth and she didn’t know what to do or say to change it.

  As if he understood, Luke stood and came to the door, reaching for her hand. He took her to the table, placing her between Alex and another guardsman, opposite Brodgar. She looked at her hands, feeling impossibly uncomfortable.

  “It’s a fine thing to be indoors again,” he said quietly. “You must be glad to be out of the cold, as I am.”

  Barra nodded, clearing her throat. “Yes, it is,” she said softly. “It’s always better to be in four walls.”

  Luke laughed, and for a moment some of the tension was dispelled. Barra glanced to her left and saw that one of the men had helped himself to bread from the central plate. She took a slice for herself.

  “Would you care for a drink?” Brodgar asked from opposite her.

  Barra swallowed hard. “Yes,” she whispered.

  He lifted a silver jug and poured for her, as comfortable in that environment as if he had lived there always. Which, she supposed, was a fair reflection. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, feeling impossibly awkward.

  “My uncle asks you to enjoy his hospitality, but regrets he will be busy with his steward until later.” He raised a brow, as if conveying a message to her. She nodded.