by Lynda Lukow
At Broderick’s declaration Kasey started, then suckled her pricked finger. “Och, Broderick. I never ken ye be present until ye speak. How do ye make no sound?”
He shrugged. “Ye canna see or hear the best warriors until they be upon ye.”
Then Hunter must be a great warrior. Had Randall not claimed he had often followed her to the falls? She sighed. She would not, could not think of him. “Gavin did naught but protect me.”
“If ye will excuse me, I wish to have a few words with Gavin if I may.” Evonne curtsied and scurried from the room without awaiting a reply.
“Randall could use the same defense for his attack on Con… Hunter.”
Kasey threw her hands into the air, knocking her dorlach to the floor. “Hunter meant me no harm.” She bent to pick up the spilled contents.
“If yers be torn, ye may have my satchel. I prefer to roll my things within an extra plaid and tie it to my horse.”
“Nay, thank ye.”
“Did ye ken I once commanded a contingent of the royal guard?”
Kasey shook her head.
“As the king’s cousin, I had to prove I deserved the position because of skill, not blood.” Broderick rubbed his hip as he looked toward the guard’s quarters. “My injury prevents me from leading the army still, but it has afforded me numerous advantages. When the king has no need for my services, I be free to do as I wish. For example, I be available to give a lady another lesson aboot daggers.”
Broderick crossed the chamber, leaned into the corridor, and then returned with a sack in hand. “A gift for milady.”
“For me?” Her heart raced as she untied the tanned cord. Save a small token each Yuletide, she received no gifts.
Her vision darkened. Her back blazed. Black thongs flew through the air. She shook her head to chase away the vision.
“The dark look upon yer face couldna mean ye dislike my present.” Broderick’s concern reflected in his voice. “Come now, look inside.”
She gasped at the pair of boots with jewel-encrusted tabs. “Broderick, I canna accept these. They be much too dear.”
“Try them on afore ye make a final decision.” He knelt and removed her worn slipper. Holding the boot open, he warned, “Pull not on these tabs unless ye mean to use them.”
Kasey slid her foot into leather as soft as dew. She stood and lowered the hem of her kirtle. Her skirts hid the top, as if she wore a simple slipper.
She sat to don the second boot. Strange. Each boot had only one tab on the right side. If meant as decoration, the left boot should have the tab on the left side. Since Broderick had been more than generous in his offering, she had no right to complain.
Leaning down, she tugged on the sides of the other boot. As her foot slid in, her body jerked and hit the back of the chair. In her hand she held not an adornment, but a dagger.
“I warned ye not to pull on that.” He returned the dirk to the boot’s sheath. “Would ye care to accompany me to the gardens, milady?”
She nodded and tied her arisaide about her shoulders.
True to her expectations, those they passed leered and mocked her. She tried to ignore the ridicule, but her frown deepened with each step.
Broderick whispered, “Dinna let these fools trouble ye, Hold yer head high.”
She sighed in relief when they reached the less populated gardens, but with each step beyond, her shoulders tensed. “Where be ye taking me?”
“Just a bit farther, to the copse.”
She dug in her heels. “Someone will see us enter the trees. Would ye further tarnish my reputation?”
He turned to face her. “The high hedges of the garden blind many an eye, milady, and they do not provide a sturdy target. At the edge of the forest we shall remain in view of all who pass as well as those who peer from the windows.”
“My apologies, sir.”
“Of course, that leaves ye with another problem.”
She raised a brow.
“All shall ken how well ye can protect yerself, which may intimidate yer suitors.”
“Aye, the endless line of men seeking my hand may dwindle to naught.” She clapped her hands. “Alas, it already has.”
“Most of these lads be fools, milady.” He led her to the forest’s edge. “I have ordered these daggers made for ye. They be lighter, so ye must adjust your aim. Ye must also learn how to draw them from under yer skirts.”
Her first attempt sliced her kirtle.
“Think aboot what ye must do, Kasey, lest ye return to the castle in tatters!”
“At least my gown will match my repute.”
She had paid little mind to her garments before. Each day, she simply donned the slip and gown Evonne laid out for her, then knotted her plaid about her shoulders.
To remove and throw the dirk, she needed to hold the shawl aside and thrust her leg past her skirts. She leaned down, drew, straightened and threw. Success.
Almost. She did not cut her skirt, but she missed her target by a good distance.
“Dinna get discouraged. I have seen warriors throw worse. Mayhap ye should practice removing the dagger and not worry about throwing yet. Keep yer eye on the tree. Feel what ye do rather than watch.”
The lessons continued throughout the morning hours. By the time of the nooning meal, she could consistently unsheathe the dagger without cutting her garments. The lighter daggers embedded deeply in the tree.
Broderick glowed with pride. “Tell none of this gift. Yer laird will claim the weapons too dangerous and too valuable for yer possession.”
She wondered how Broderick knew her laird so well.
“Never show these weapons to frighten an enemy. If ye unsheathe them, ye must be willing to kill. Settle not for inflicting injury. Blood, especially his own, enrages an opponent. Anger begets strength, and ye will surely lose.”
Pointing to his own chest and her back, Broderick showed her the body’s most vulnerable spots. “If an enemy has ye in his clutches, grab his hair, and jerk his head back to expose his neck. Slit his throat from under his ear as far and deep as ye can. It be messy, for his blood will spurt.”
“I canna inflict a mortal wound.”
“Milady, ye can heal no one from yer grave.” He waited for her gaze to meet his. “These lessons be for survival, not a fit of anger. Yer protection be the duty of yer father or future husband. Since ye canna yet count on either, I wish ye to have the means to defend yerself.”
She nodded.
“If ye must kill or be killed, choose life. Anyone who threatens a lady as wondrous as ye deserves not to live.”
“I know not what to say.”
“A simple ‘thank ye’ will suffice.” He looked away. “I have informed Evonne I shall be escorting ye home on the morrow.”
“My presence disgraces the king.” She could not blame him.
“Ye misunderstand, Kasey. He sends ye home, but not as punishment. Many ladies seek a union with Hunter Mackintosh, and some may not settle for mere words to express their distress.”
“I did naught but meet my obligations.”
“What ye see as duty, others see as scandal. Most fathers would demand Hunter wed ye.”
Her heart skipped a beat. If only her laird would issue such a command. But he would not. Mayhap it was for the best. She cared too much for Hunter to plague him with an unwanted marriage.
“The king fears for yer well-being, milady, as do I.”
She glared at him. “Why do ye treat me like a child? Nay! Even worse, ye treat me like a mouse. Be I naught but a pest that requires removal before I infest?”
“Yer anger, though merited, changes naught. I shall see ye at the stable at first light.”
As he walked away, sorrow replaced her anger. She used to be quiet and calm. How could a few days have changed her so?
The answer lay in Hunter’s kiss. Chastised once too often for showing her emotions, she had denied their existence. The want, the need, evoked by his lips had opened the dam.
Her
imminent return home left her with no choice. She must once again hide within.
A short time later, Kasey left the garden. Randall blocked the path leading to the rear of the castle. She changed course.
Several steps later she let out her breath and cursed her trembling hands. Foolish as he may be, Randall would not accost her in plain view.
A bruising grip spun her around.
“Our laird will learn of all that has happened.”
She stood as strong as an oak in a tempest.
“Rest assured, upon my return we shall wed, then ye will pay for every injustice forced upon me.”
“Unhand her!” bellowed the king. “Ye alone be responsible for yer fate, Randall, and I shall keep ye in my custody until ye accept thus. If it takes the rest of yer life, so be it!”
Kasey stumbled as Randall shoved her away. She caught herself before she fell and curtsied to the king. Randall trained his glare on her, even as he bowed and retreated toward his quarters.
“I expect Broderick has told ye of yer departure.”
She nodded.
“I have placed ye under my protection. Despite Randall’s threats, ken I will do all I can to keep ye safe.”
With her keep so far away, she wondered how much he could do. She thanked him for his kindness, curtsied, and continued on her way.
She had almost reached the door when she found her path blocked again. Hunter. She resisted the desperate urge to throw her arms around his neck and weep. Instead, she swallowed and hoped her voice would not reveal her turmoil. “Ye look well, Mackintosh.”
“A gifted healer attended me, milady.”
Chills coursed down her spine as she stared into the depths of his amber eyes. Crimson streaks and gray clouds nipped at his heels. Danger awaited his every move.
His voice pulled her attention from the vision.
“Did ye hear me, milady?”
His fierce look startled her. And the way he stood, feet braced and arms akimbo, made him look like a human fortress.
Unable to endure his gaze, she looked down and withdrew the hand she rested on his forearm. When had she put it there? Had her touch caused his anger?
“Be there a reason yer mind so often wanders?”
Insulted by his tone, she strode around him. Without turning, she said, “Watch yer back, Mackintosh.”
His footsteps drew nearer, but she refused to run.
He halted directly before her. “I wish ye well, and ye repay me with a threat?”
“Ye be a fool! A mouse such as I could not harm a mountain like ye. Yer future holds a hard and dangerous path. Many dislike, even fear, ye. Dinna turn yer back, for they will slice ye down.”
She gained two steps before Hunter whirled her about, pulled her against his chest, and enfolded her in his arms. She should not allow such familiarity, but could not deny the comfort of his touch.
Calloused fingers nudged up her chin.
Her gaze flew to his. She needed to imprint his golden eyes into her memory.
He leaned down, but stopped a hair’s breadth away. Wishing he would kiss her, she moistened her lips.
The back of his hand caressed her cheek. His gaze never left hers.
Unwilling to wait any longer, she rose onto her toes and brushed her lips across his.
His tongue slid out. She invited him in. His chest pounded beneath her fingers. Her knees weakened. She moved her hands to his shoulders and held fast.
She gulped in air when he pulled back to nibble a path along her jaw to her ear and back again. Her heart quickened as he pulled her tighter and deepened the kiss anew.
Too soon he grunted and pulled away. “Ye have not seen the last of me, milady. Hear my vow. One day soon I shall bring ye to my side.”
As she unwound her hands from his neck, her heart soared. Had he known, in his fevered state, whose lips he kissed?
It could not be. They never met before Randall attacked. Honor compelled his claim.
But what of Randall’s claims that Hunter had followed her to the falls? Dare she believe?
“May ye live so long, Mackintosh.”
Chapter Six
“If ye punch that pillow one more time, I will hold it over yer head, Connor.”
“Go to sleep, Gavin. Dawn comes too soon.”
Gavin rolled over, turning his back to his brother. “She leaves on the morrow.”
“Heaven knows what her future holds. I wish the king would keep her here.”
Gavin bolted up. “’Tis a brilliant idea! Surely the king could use another maid.”
“She will serve no one!”
“It be a small price.”
Connor stared at Gavin’s form, unable to make out his features in the darkened chamber. “She has touched yer heart, too?”
His breath quickened with each moment Gavin did not answer. He gritted his teeth. “Answer me, brother.”
Gavin sighed. “How could I let a Cameron come to mean so much?”
He reached over and grabbed Gavin’s nightshirt. “Ye canna have her!”
“Remove yer hand, Connor. Ye need not add another trouble.”
He tightened his hold. “Ye will touch her not.”
“Why not?”
“Kasey will be mine.”
“Be ye mad?” Gavin wrenched from Connor’s grip. “I ken yer feelings toward Lady Cameron.”
Connor rose to tower over his brother. “Yet ye wish to challenge me for her?”
“Yer brains have turned to mush.” Gavin stood nose to chin with his brother and looked up. “I wish to ease Lady Kasey’s adjustment to the Mackintosh way of life by bringing her maid to our keep.”
“Her maid will follow no matter who Kasey marries.”
“My wife’s status willna remain so low.”
“Yer wife?”
“She truly has turned yer brains to mush.” Gavin chuckled. “I refer to Evonne, ye dolt.”
Someone threw a cushion at Connor’s head. “Will ye two kiss and make up so the rest of us can get some sleep?”
Connor found the pillow and heaved it in the direction from which it came.
“Ye missed!” Quiet chuckles accompanied the unidentified voice.
“It be a good thing Randall sleeps in other quarters,” Gavin whispered, “else we would have a brawl on our hands.”
“At least a fight would put my thoughts to rest.” He faced the hardest battle of his life. To prove his worth, he must rein in the thoughts of his heart’s desire. Yet he would never forget her.
What about her tied him into knots? Others called her plain, coarse. In truth, he had bedded much more comely women.
Mayhap her eyes had cast a spell on him. Though always blue, their color revealed her mood. When playful or pensive, they mirrored sapphires. In anger they darkened to a moonlit, snow-covered hill. He had seen his favorite hue, the shining blue-black of a raven’s wing, only twice—after they kissed. Aye, he would forever thirst for the magic of her lips. He had to dip his chin just a bit to sip her nectar. At the cottage, those rosy cushions had looked so warm, so inviting, he could not resist tasting her then any more than he could this day.
Her passionate response excited him beyond measure. Her thundering heart matched his beat for beat. The uncertain strokes of her tongue met his every demand. The hardened tips of her full breasts teased his chest. Her full hips cradled his arousal as securely as a lover’s hand.
She threatened his control more than any woman ever had. He should have heeded his body’s demand.
Still, more than lust defined her appeal. When doubts flooded his mind, her whispered hopes dammed them. Concern gleamed from her eyes, yet she wasted no time cooing or crying. She issued orders with a commander’s authority as well as a lady’s modesty.
She had spirit, too. The king’s earlier intervention most likely saved both Connor and Randall from a longer sentence. But he doubted Kasey needed help. She did not cower or cry. She returned Randall’s glare and then some.
&nb
sp; She had called herself a mouse. Hah! Many had fawned in his presence, but he doubted Kasey ever would. His size, his intentional rudeness had made her stand straighter and jut out her wee, perfect chin.
Her courage, her gentle strength warmed the darkest niches of his heart. A laird’s wife required these qualities, and he would not settle for less.
Many lairds had paraded their daughters before him. Those lasses may have looked like roses, but they were dandelions gone to seed. One misspoken word would destroy their fragile existence.
But not Kasey. She was velvet-covered iron. Not since his mother’s death had he met such a woman.
His chest tightened. More than ten summers had passed since his mother died, and still he grieved.
He was not alone in his sorrow. The entire clan remained cloaked in gray. Though no one could replace his mother, Kasey could ease the loss.
Her Cameron blood would make proving her worth much more difficult, but she would rise to the challenge. His clansmen would not be able to resist her any more than he could.
If only she did not have the frustrating habit of daydreaming during conversations. It had taken him years to find the courage to voice his devotion. From the faraway look in her eyes, she had not heard him.
He yawned. If that was her only quirk, he could learn to live with it.
Watch yer back, Mackintosh. Her forewarning echoed through his mind. She did not seem prone to dramatics. Quite the opposite.
He closed his eyes. Her tone held certainty, not malice. That could mean but one thing—she had second sight.
Aye, he would be careful. Nothing would keep them apart a moment longer than necessary.
****
A gentle hand shook Kasey’s shoulder. She rolled away. Fatigue dragged at her limbs, and her dream refused to release its hold.
The meager candlelight at the end of the cave did not seem worth the effort. Echoes of unspoken promises beckoned her forward. The sun waited to enfold her in its glory.
A hand grabbed her arm. She swatted at it. “Milady?”
Wearier than before she slept, Kasey yawned as the last vestiges of her dream faded.
“Broderick said we leave at first light.”
New images halted her attempt to rise. Her mother’s beautiful face first bathed in red, then shrouded in black. Laird Cameron’s eyes slitted in anger, then glazed in madness. Evonne’s countenance cloaked in pain, then faded to naught. Yet behind them, the light still glowed.
