Highland Temptations: Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Adams, Aileen

  He had a strange sense of indulging her, smiling to himself as she turned in a slow circle, a half-smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Turning away, he patted his loyal horse’s neck.

  “Thank ye,” he murmured as he touched his forehead to the beast’s nose. He was rewarded with a snort and a tug at his cloak before a sleepy lad took the reins and led it away.

  “Come,” he bade her, full of pride of ownership though he owned nothing but the horse he’d just bade goodbye to. Even so, he was proud, for this had been his home all his life. He explained this as he led her inside the keep, where several of the guard greeted him in cheerful tones.

  “They all respect you so,” she whispered.

  “Ye sound surprised.” He could chuckle then and be of good humor. He was home. All would be well. “I would imagine you’re as hungry as I.”

  “I am.”

  “The kitchen is just yonder.” He led her inside, where the fires were long cold, and the candles and torches dark. “Many’s the night I’ve come down here on my own. The cooks must ask themselves where the food goes.” He pulled a loaf of bread and a pair of apples from a cupboard, then cut a slab from a wheel of cheese.

  “I must admit, this is… a great deal to take in at once.” She accepted an apple, biting into it with care, smiling at its sweetness.

  “Ye shall have all the time ye need, I’m sure.”

  “You have a great deal of faith in Laird Richard.”

  “We’ve lived as brothers our entire lives. If there is a single person in the world I know, ‘tis himself.”

  She nodded, remaining silent in favor of eating. He pushed the cheese closer to her, across the small table at which they’d settled to share their humble meal.

  “I’m glad you’re here with me. I know I have not always been a pleasant companion for ye, and I’m sorry for it.”

  “You’re sorry?” She blinked hard. “You are the only reason I’m still alive. I’m certain of it. I owe you my life. Everything.”

  “Think nothing of it.”

  She grinned. “I wonder if such a thing would be possible.”

  Sharp footsteps echoed in the corridor just before Richard entered the kitchen. “Thank God, you’ve returned.” He clasped William’s arms, a wide smile spreading across his familiar face. “I never thought I’d be so glad to see ye.”

  “Nor I ye,” William laughed.

  “I’m certain it will not surprise ye to find my aunt visited her seer several times since ye left us.” Richard smirked with a roll of his eyes. “The crone vowed ye would return, and ye would not be alone when ye did.”

  With that, he turned to where the lass sat in silent observation.

  And only William would have noticed the way his features changed when he took her in. To Richard’s credit, he did not make a show of his surprise. “And ye must be the one over whom my old friend went to so much trouble. We’ve missed him a great deal, though the journey was not made in vain so long as ye are safe here.”

  No one would know how unsettled he was. No one but William.

  And, to his surprise, the lass. She changed. Stiffened. “Thank you for your graciousness,” she smiled, lifting her chin with all the dignity of a royal. “I hope you do not mind my coming.”

  “Not at all,” William answered before Richard had the chance.

  Richard turned to him, and his eyes were much harder than his tone suggested. “Ye are too right, my friend. It is no imposition whatsoever. And what is the name of our charming guest, then?”

  They both looked to her.

  She looked at them.

  “You might call me Tara.”

  William’s heart sank like a stone.

  “I might call ye that?” Richard asked, his head tipping to the side, arms crossing. “Is that your name?”

  “Lass,” William murmured, his eyes moving back and forth between them. This was not what he’d expected. Nowhere near. Yes, he’d known she would keep to herself, that she would only reveal that which she felt could be revealed.

  But he’d hoped she would at least have the sense to share her given name.

  Richard ignored him. “Ye are here now, under my protection, and I will not turn ye away. However, it is considered good form to answer such a question honestly when one who has just offered ye protection, whose food ye are just finished eating, has asked it.”

  “Richard…”

  He held up a hand to signal William’s silence. “Nay, allow me to finish. If I’m to continue protecting ye, offering ye food and a place to rest your head, I ask that ye pay me the respect I deserve as laird and owner of this castle.”

  When she remained silent, Richard merely shook his head. William, on the other hand, wanted to wring her neck. How could she make such a fool of him after everything they had been through?

  “I’ll see to it that ye have a room,” Richard announced, waving one of the guards into the kitchen. “Take her to one of the prepared bedchambers, see to it she has everything she needs.”

  He turned to William. “I’ll see ye in my study. Now.”

  William knew better than to offer protest when Richard was in such a state. He could only cast a doleful look at the one he’d all but gotten himself killed to rescue before following his friend out of the kitchen, down the corridor and into his study.

  “Close. The. Door.” Richard went to the small table beside the fire and poured a mug of wine.

  “I can explain.”

  “I will hear no explanations. Not yet.” Richard poured the wine down his throat, drinking it in two or three swallows, then poured another mug. “How did ye make it all the way with someone like her? How did ye manage not to kill her with your bare hands? I’ve never known such an obstinate, headstrong…”

  “I know.”

  “Ye brought her here without so much as sending word ye were coming.” Richard slammed the empty mug to the table, whirling on William. “Ye brought her here, to my lands, my castle, and now I’m responsible for her safety. I know who she is.”

  “Ye… ye know?” William took hold of the closest piece of furniture—one of the chairs by the fire—to steady himself in light of this revelation.

  Richard’s laugh cut through the fog of confusion. “Everyone knows Jacob Stuart is searching the entire country for the gypsy who escaped his dungeon.”

  “How could I send word? We were all but chased throughout the Highlands. I could not risk anyone getting hold of my message. There are men riding throughout the day and night, hoping to collect the bounty on her head.” So long as Richard did not know why Stuart had held her, they were on solid ground. He could breathe more easily now.

  “And ye brought her here.”

  “Where else was I to bring her? Or do ye believe I would have done better to leave her in the woods?”

  Richard paced to and fro, rubbing his hands together. “I dinna believe that, and ye know it. I would not ask ye to leave a defenseless woman, no matter who she is.”

  “What do ye mean by that?”

  “Och, come now.” He scowled. “I will not pretend I’ve ever been on close terms with one of her kind, but I’ve heard enough of what they can do.”

  “I’ve never heard ye speak so before.”

  “I’ve never had reason to.” Richard held up his hands in defense. “Dinna scold me. I’m not a wee bairn for ye to tell how to speak. I’m certain she’s a good sort if ye felt it was wise to bring her home. But what of her family? What if they find out ye brought her here? Do ye know they will not come for her? What if they think they can lay siege to my castle the way they raided villages to the south?”

  William reeled again. So word had reached this far north. “What do ye mean by that?” he dared ask, wondering as he did whether he ought to uphold the pretense of ignorance.

  “Come now. Everyone knows of the gypsy raiders,” Richard scoffed. “I knew she was one of them and put everything together the moment I laid eyes on her. I’m surprised ye did not d
o the same—unless ye did,” he added, eyes narrowing.

  “I suspected,” William lied, scrambling now to keep up. “But she was just as obstinate with me as she’s been with ye.”

  “Yet ye rode with her?”

  “What else was I to do, if she is the one I was meant to help?”

  “Why her? Are ye certain ye found the right lass? She doesn’t deserve what ye did for her—if she had not been part of the raids, she never would have been taken prisoner.”

  “That’s not for ye to say. And no matter what they did or did not do, she had no part of it, and she did not deserve the treatment she received.” He briefly described the condition she’d been in when he found her. “The man is nothing but a beast.”

  Richard grunted, his brows drawing together over his nose. “That may well be, but now you’ve brought me into this, and I would rather not be part of it. If I had known…”

  “If ye had known? Ye were the one who thought it so important I go. Now, ye tell me I ought not to have done what I set out to do.”

  “Rescuing the lass and bringing her here, bringing this all on our heads. That is not what ye set out to do, and it is not what I told the captain of my guard he could take time away from his duties to do.”

  “I see.” William stared at his friend as though he’d never seen him before then. Perhaps he never had. “Ye dinna mind treating me as a brother so long as it suits ye. I was unaware until now.”

  “Dinna turn this around on me,” Richard hissed. “Ye know how I feel about ye, and that I see ye as more than a guard. But this is about our safety, which is your obligation to maintain. You’ve put us all in jeopardy because ye didna think about what bringing her here could mean. And now, she will not even deign to tell me her name. I’ve never been so insulted, and by someone of her kind at that.”

  “If ye make mention of her kind once more, we will part in anger, and I dinna want that,” William warned, his voice a low growl. “I dinna wish to see this come between us, but I must ask ye to pay heed.”

  “As she has paid heed to me? Forgive me, William, if I dinna care much at the moment. She disrespected me beneath my own roof, on my land, when she owes me her life. Perhaps ye ought to speak to her, rather than scolding me.”

  “That is precisely what I ought to do,” William mused. “I’ll speak to her. I dinna know why she refuses to tell anyone her name—why she still feels she must protect her kinsmen when she’ll likely not see them again.”

  “Aye. Ye might remind her who her loyalties ought to belong to now.” Richard turned away to pour another mug, leaving William all but dismissed. He knew this was the end of the discussion until he returned with good news.

  Which meant convincing Tara, or whatever her name happened to be, to speak openly of herself from now on.

  He did not like his chances.

  21

  One of the many skills Shana had made a point of mastering was the art of moving about silently, unnoticed. It helped when Manfri needed her to act as lookout for him and the others.

  She made use of this once her guard left her alone, slipping from the impressive, comfortable bedchamber and tiptoeing in the direction from which she’d come. It was not much work to find the room where the men had gone to argue over her.

  Their voices could be heard even from where she crept, one floor above them.

  Pressed close to the wall, she dashed down the wide, stone stairs and darted through the entry hall—avoiding running beneath the heavy, iron fixture hanging from a chain above her head, holding thick candles which dripped wax on the floor—before turning the corner and tiptoeing down toward the closed door from behind which she heard the argument coming.

  “You’ve put us all in jeopardy because ye didna think about what bringing her here could mean.” That would be Laird Richard, who had not much impressed her during their brief meeting. A bully, through and through, thinking just because a man had brought her to his home meant she owed him the world.

  Never mind her need to protect her family. Never mind him not knowing anything of the hardship her life had been.

  William was having none of it, which came as a surprise. He spoke up for her even in front of his good friend. His laird. It was clear to her after watching them together that a great deal of affection existed between there.

  Even so, he spoke up for her. What did that mean?

  “I’ve never been so insulted, and by someone of her kind at that.”

  Her blood ran cold at this. Yes, she’d seen it on his face. His surprise, his distrust. Right from the start. Davina’s face had born the same expression when she’d first laid eyes on Shana.

  Every tale she’d ever heard of what Shana and her kinsmen were capable of had come to mind, all at once.

  Only Davina’s expression had changed. She’d decided to pay no heed to those tales.

  Richard had done no such thing. He’d merely put on a false smile, told her to feel welcome, when he did not wish for her to feel any such way.

  And he wondered why she had not given him what he wanted. As if she would do any such thing when he looked at her that way.

  “Aye. Ye might remind her who her loyalties ought to belong to now.” Footsteps sounded on the other side of the door, and Shana was careful to stay in the shadows when William emerged from the room. He closed the door before letting out a heavy sigh, his shoulders falling, his head dropping between his shoulders.

  Guilt struck her heart then. He deserved better than the welcome he’d received after what he’d done for her.

  This was her fault. Even Richard could not be blamed for his reaction—after all, this was his castle, these were his people, and he was the man on whom everyone behind the castle’s walls depended. His decisions, his protection, they relied on him.

  He could only think about them. It was natural.

  William, however. He had spent his life thinking as Richard had. Putting his time and skill toward keeping the lands safe from outside threats. Now?

  Now, he looked and sounded like a defeated man.

  She stepped out of the shadows. “William.”

  He turned with a start. “Och. Ye ought not startle a man so. Not after everything we’ve been through.”

  “I did not mean to startle you,” she said by way of apology. “I only wished to hear…”

  He winced. “How much of it did ye hear, then?”

  She swallowed over the lump in her throat. “Not very much.”

  “Liar.” His smile was a tired one. Weak. A vague attempt at best. “But thank ye for trying to spare me. I wish ye had spared yourself.”

  “I have heard much worse.”

  He held a finger to his lips, then motioned for her to follow him. When they were away from the study, he asked, “Where are your chambers?”

  She pointed up the stairs. He led the way.

  “I ought not have come,” she whispered, half to herself, shaking her head as they climbed.

  “Dinna tell me I’m going to have to deal with ye as well,” William growled. “Arguing with one of ye is enough of a chore, thank ye kindly.”

  “This is not right. I wish you had told me—”

  They stopped at the top of the stairs, with William turning and taking her by the shoulders. He even shook her slightly, though she understood it might only have been his hands shaking. He might not have intended to shake her at all. He could barely contain himself.

  “I did what I did, and I had my reasons for behaving as I did. I explained many of them to ye along the way. How could I tell ye where we were headed? How could I warn Richard we were coming? What I do, my duty here, depends on my making the right decisions after taking account of all sides of a problem. Ye understand that, do ye not?”

  She could only nod, the pressure of his hands and the fierce burning in his eyes almost too much to bear. His desperation. He wanted so badly for her to understand him.

  For someone to understand.

  “Until now, that has been
enough. Richard certainly thought so, or else I would not hold my post.” He released her, eyes widening as if he realized for the first time that he’d taken hold of her at all. “Forgive me.”

  “There is nothing to forgive.” No matter the way her shoulders now ached from his grasp, the pressure from his fingers still throbbing in her muscles.

  His hands dropped to his sides. “Now? He is the one who insisted I go. I dinna know if he took the seer at her word or if he believed in any of what she said, but I do believe he wanted what was best for me. No matter what happens, he has my best interests at heart. I must believe that. He’s like my own brother.”

  “I could see it.”

  “Neither of us had a brother or sister, ye ken. We grew up here, together, in this house. On these lands. We both inherited our fathers’ positions on their death. Yet he never treated me as a lesser until this verra day. I dinna know what to think about that.”

  Her chest clenched at the sight of doubt, hurt, questions in his eyes. “I’m sorry it happened this way. I could have told you, though, had you warned me where we were going?”

  “Och, how could ye know?”

  The look she’d seen on Richard’s face… “I know people. I’m accustomed to the way they react to me. Even if my mother was not who she was, I would still be an outlaw seeking protection here. I bring trouble along with me either way.”

  “But he is a good man. Ye must believe that.”

  “I do.” The words soured in her mouth. Yes, she believed Laird Richard to be good and honorable. He was merely doing his best in a terrible situation which his best friend had placed him in. She would have thought him much better if he hadn’t held the fact of her blood against her.

  “Which is why…” He looked down at his feet, his chest rising and falling in time with his heavy sigh. “I believe ye ought to be honest with him. Answer his questions truthfully. There is no harm can come to ye now.”

  Only the fact that a dozen guards would come on the run, at least, kept her from screaming and boxing his ears. For one brief, satisfying moment, she imagined pushing him down the stairs and listening with great enjoyment as his bones cracked on striking each solid stone slab.