The Taming of a Highlander

by Elisa Braden

  What was she babbling on about? Still half-asleep, she didn’t really know. The words welled up from nowhere. “You must stay with me forever. That was your promise. That I could love you forever.” Her throat tightened as she heard him sigh. Felt his shivering begin to ease. “You’re not there any longer. You are here.” She held him, kissed him mindlessly. Instinctively. “And when you sleep, I shall be your blanket.”

  He drew in a shuddering breath and sighed it out. His arms circled her. His lips nuzzled her hair. “Cold,” he slurred.

  He was still asleep. She could tell by the way he breathed.

  She stroked his hair and kissed his lips. “Not for long, my darling. I am here.”

  Another sigh, this one relieved. “Here, mo chridhe. With me.”

  Holding him as tightly as she dared, she laid her cheek in the crook of his shoulder. Their shared warmth gradually lulled his muscles to relax and his breathing to deepen. As she, too, drifted toward sleep, she dreamt the strangest sounds: the slow drip of water on stone, the clattering clank of a key turning in a lock, the call of gulls, the din of men, and wind whistling through iron bars.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  A pair of birds landed at Sabella’s feet. Ravens. One let out a screech. She skirted past them to continue toward the post office.

  To punish Sabella, Kenneth meant to kill Annie. Sabella must stop him. She must warn Annie.

  Her heart thrashed in her chest as she quickened her pace. The ravens followed, flapping their wings and cawing at one another.

  She glanced behind her. The hour was early, and only a few pedestrians lined this end of George Street. Still, Kenneth was having her watched. She knew his sense of betrayal had not diminished while she’d cared for him. He didn’t trust her. In fact, the moment he’d recovered sufficiently, he’d left their house in Charlotte Square to sleep elsewhere. But he often visited without warning, and all the servants in the household reported to him, which effectively made her home a prison.

  She thought perhaps her lady’s maid might be loyal to her, but the lass was so fearful, she didn’t know whether to trust her. Which was why Sabella must post her own letters and fight her own battles.

  Another glance behind her, a scan of the street. She turned a corner and hurried toward the small building next to a tea shop. The nuisance birds followed. One of them boldly plucked at her skirt. She gasped, veering away before the creature damaged the silk. The second bird screeched and launched into the air, forcing her back into a doorway. She was about to swipe away the bird who’d plucked at her gown when the door behind her opened and a barrel-chested man with a whiskered face and stern demeanor exited. He turned with his back to the street and braced her elbow.

  “Pardon, miss.” He tipped his hat. “I didnae see ye there.”

  She gave a nod. “My fault entirely.” Automatically, she patted her silk reticule, taking comfort from the crackle of paper inside. “I’m in a wee bit of a rush.”

  The man’s gaze lingered upon her face, a frown creasing his deep brow.

  Sabella was accustomed to men staring at her, but this one’s gaze was probing. Almost as if he recognized her.

  Panic fluttered in her chest. What if Kenneth had hired him? She glanced at the tobacconist’s shop behind her then at the pouch of snuff in his hand. Her suspicions eased slightly, but he continued staring.

  “Well, I shall bid you good day, sir.”

  He seemed to gather himself then tipped his hat with a polite nod. She rushed past him, driven by merciless urgency to post her letter and return home before Kenneth learned of her outing.

  She posted the letter with trembling hands, shaking so badly that the clerk asked if she was well. Nodding with a jerk, she said nothing else before exiting the post office with a pounding heart and fast breaths.

  Relief warred with fear. What if Kenneth discovered her treachery? Would he kill her?

  Oh, God. The old Sabella would have laughed at such a thought. Kenneth adored her. Spoiled her. Yes, occasionally, he’d bruised her wrists or arms in a fit of pique, even seeming to enjoy her pain. And she’d long known she must take care not to spark his temper. But he’d always expressed regret for his lapses in control, sometimes apologizing with a lovely necklace or a rare breed of rose.

  The new Sabella hated knowing the truth. Kenneth would kill her. And she was playing with fire to warn Annie of his plans. But what else could she do? Annie had been her friend when she’d been utterly alone.

  Nerves quaked beneath her skin as she examined the street. A carriage approached from the west. She mustn’t be seen. Spinning in place, she scrambled toward the tea shop, praying it was open at this early hour.

  Just as she reached for the door, a man’s gloved hand got there first.

  She looked up. Her stomach sank.

  The whiskered man pulled open the door and tilted his head. “Miss Lockhart. I am Sergeant Neil Munro of the Inverness constabulary. I believe ye and I should have a chat.”

  Broderick had intended to begin his campaign of Kate persuasion immediately. But his wee, bonnie wife turned his scheme back upon him with ruthless enchantment. The morning after he’d staked his claim upon her, she awakened him by kissing all the scars on his face. And his arms. And his shoulders. And his belly.

  Two hours later, after a long session of lovemaking and a rare doze, he awakened a second time to the sounds of his wee, bonnie wife singing as she carried a breakfast tray to the bedside table.

  “When the sun rose this morning, I first said, ‘Tea’s the sole reason I’ll leave this bed.’ Yet not even for a cup could I rouse myself up, fooooorrr ’tis too lovely to lie here and wallow, though my stomach be noisy and hollow.” She turned in a theatrical spin, to drape a napkin across the pile of blankets on his thighs. “Until I recalled what was once said, that stoats on the hunt must be well fed.” She waggled her eyebrows. “Lest he wither and flag, I bring smoked haddock and eggs. Aaaaaannnnd, I’ve been told the dear creature likes petting, if only he weren’t hiding ’midst the bedding—”

  He chuckled and rolled to the edge of their bed, snagging her around the waist and pulling her into his lap. She squealed and wriggled and laughed.

  “Two problems, lass. ‘Flag’ and ‘eggs’ dinnae rhyme.” He made sure she felt his readiness. “Secondly, this dear creature is always primed for the hunt.”

  She cupped his jaw, kissed him with a glowing smile, and traced her fingertips lovingly over the puckered flesh where his eye had once been.

  Only then did he realize she’d removed his eye patch sometime during the night. Vaguely, he recalled her worrying that wearing it for too long must irritate his skin. It did, but he hadn’t wanted to subject her to the sight of his worst scars. He still didn’t understand how she could look upon him without a trace of revulsion. But she appeared only enchanted. Attracted. Appreciative.

  He’d never been so hungry for a woman’s desire as he was for hers.

  They spent the entire day pleasuring one another. He left their bedchamber once to send a message to his brothers, but otherwise, she held him spellbound.

  He’d intended it to be the other way around.

  The second day, he spent a full quarter-hour away from her while delivering orders to his men for clearing the trees along the lane and securing the house while he was away. Then, Kate lured him into the drawing room to describe her intended changes.

  “The stag must have a minimum of twelve points,” she explained, gesturing to the stone above the fireplace. Her arms swept in wide arcs as she gracefully twirled like a stage performer. She cast him a teasing grin over her shoulder. “Can you manage that, husband?”

  He locked the doors. “Let me show ye what I can manage, lass.”

  The third day, he controlled his lust enough to prepare for the journey to Edinburgh. While Kate and her maid packed, he discussed logistics with Campbell and Alexander, recruited five of his most capable men to accompany the
m, and met with Thomson to revise his will and set aside funds for his wife.

  The fourth day, he loaded Kate and her three trunks into a wagon and headed to Glendasheen Castle to borrow John and Annie’s travel coach. Part of his plan to woo his wee, bonnie wife involved making good use of their trip. He would learn everything that pleased her. He would keep her comfortable, happy, and safe. Then, she would want to stay with him. She would trust him with her heart.

  Because right now, she didn’t.

  He saw it in her uncertain glances. The way she nibbled her lip and wound a curl around her finger as she rode beside him. Her nervous chatter about how splendid the loch was even on overcast days. “We haven’t anything to compare in Nottinghamshire,” she said. “And London?” She shook her head. “The entertainments are dazzling, true, but the smells are far from majestic.”

  “What was it like for ye there?” he asked.

  “Oh, lovely enough, I suppose.”

  When she didn’t elaborate, he frowned. “Ye fancy the theatre, aye? London has many.”

  “Yes.”

  “Kate.”

  “Hmm?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  She turned so he could see her face past the brim of her bonnet. Her eyes were shadowed. Wistful. She hugged his arm and snuggled closer against his side. “Nothing whatever. A bit chilled is all.”

  When they reached the castle and he lifted her down, her smile was bright. But something lay beneath. Uncertainty.

  He hated her uncertainty. He wanted to erase every bit.

  Campbell and Alexander emerged from the stable, followed by Rannoch. Broderick stiffened as Kate greeted all three with a cheerful wave.

  “What are ye doin’ here?” he asked his youngest brother.

  Rannoch cocked his chin to a challenging angle. “I’m comin’ with ye.”

  “Nah. Ye’re not.”

  As Rannoch approached, Broderick tucked Kate closer. Campbell and Alexander looked on with wry amusement.

  Kate patted the hand squeezing her waist. “If you attack him, I shall be very cross, Broderick.”

  He gritted his teeth. “Rannoch, ye should stay here. Guard Annie and Da.”

  “Da can take care of himself. And Annie’s bein’ well-guarded by the ten new men Huxley hired.” Rannoch crossed his arms. “’Tis you who needs my help.”

  “I need ye like I need a thistle in my boot.”

  “Well, now, thistles can be useful from time to time, brother. Keeps the lordly sorts from venturin’ where they arenae wanted.”

  Kate tugged on his sleeve until he bent down. “Let him come along.”

  He shook his head, his gut burning.

  “Broderick.” His name was a gentle chide. “You have no reason whatever to refuse his help, I promise you.”

  He understood her reassurance, but it didn’t lessen the grinding resentment.

  “Och, if it isnae all my blackhearted brothers in one place!” From across the stable yard, Annie’s voice carried on a wave of sisterly amusement. “And my favorite sister-in-law.”

  Kate laughed. “I am your only sister-in-law.”

  “Aye, but ye count twice, Katie-lass.” Annie grinned and embraced them all. “Come inside and warm yerselves before the frost freezes yer nether bits.”

  A short while later, Broderick stood in Annie’s kitchen watching her pack two loaves of bread and a wedge of cheese into a basket for their trip. Campbell, Alexander, and Rannoch were busy loading weapons and supplies into the wagon. Kate was speaking with her brother in his study. Broderick rested an elbow on the back of his chair and studied his sister. Her cheeks were fuller, and when she turned to begin slicing venison, he saw the swell of her bairn beneath her gown.

  What would Kate look like when she carried his child in her womb? Would he live to see it? His teeth gritted as hollow pain warred with fledgling hope.

  “She’s good for ye, brother,” Annie said, wiping her hands on a towel and wrapping the sliced meat in paper. “Mrs. MacBean thinks she’s the reason ye stayed.”

  He frowned. “Stayed?”

  Blue eyes met his. “Aye. She says yer soul kenned ye had a bride waitin’. I said, ‘Nah. He’s just that stubborn.’”

  He huffed out a chuckle.

  “But our wee Katie-lass does light ye up; that much is certain.” Annie rubbed her lower back and sat in the chair across from him. She stretched out a hand, and he took it in his own. “I’ve had another letter, Broderick.”

  Alarm rang through him. His fingers tightened on hers. “When?”

  “Two days past.”

  “What did it say?”

  Annie’s eyes went glossy. She squeezed his fingers and swallowed, visibly gathering her composure. “He kens ye’ve married. He kens ye love her.”

  Broderick shoved away from the table. Flew to his feet. Ran both hands through his hair. Paced to the hearth. “She must stay here at the castle. I’ll leave the men and go alone to Edinburgh. I’ll kill him. That will end it.”

  “No. Ye must do as ye planned. Ye must protect her and yerself.”

  “I dinnae bluidy matter!” he shouted.

  “Aye, ye bluidy do!” she shouted back. “Use yer head. If she’s here, she’s where he expects her to be. ’Twill be as easy as sendin’ a huntin’ party to track a coo in a fenced pasture.”

  Urgency thrummed through his body. He closed his eye. Tried not to picture Kate being hunted. Being violated. Being slaughtered the way Magdalene had been slaughtered. God, he wanted to vomit.

  He felt Annie behind him, her hand upon his back. “This is no surprise,” she murmured. “We kenned the evil livin’ inside him. Follow yer plan. Take her to Edinburgh. Nobody will protect her more fiercely than you.” She patted his arm. “Take Rannoch, too.”

  “I dinnae want to.”

  “I dinnae care. Ye need him.” This time, her pat was more of a swat. “Stop bein’ a jealous dafty and do what’s sensible.”

  His fists flexed. “I’m nae the jealous sort.”

  She snorted and pulled away. “With other lasses, I’d agree. The instant Florence Cockburn or Lucie Robertson fluttered their lashes in another lad’s direction, ye were naught but a cloud of dust. For years, I thought ye were a wee bit coldhearted, truth be told. But with Kate? Ye’re so bluidy jealous, ye’ve gone blind.”

  He ground his teeth, willing it to go away.

  “There’s nothin’ for ye to fash about,” Annie assured him. “Katie doesnae fancy Rannoch.”

  He wouldn’t ask. He wouldn’t. “How do ye ken?” Damn and blast.

  “She told me. Before she met ye, she apologized for thinkin’ Rannoch was too tall and coarse for her likin’.”

  Frowning, he glanced at his sister, who had her hands planted on her hips. “I’m taller than Rannoch.”

  “Aye.”

  “And my manners are nae better. Mayhap worse since the Bridewell.”

  A red brow arched. “Aye. And yet, whenever ye’re near, she’s sighin’ and watchin’ ye and sniffin’ the air round ye like a daft, moony lamb.”

  “So, she doesnae fancy him.”

  “Bluidy hell.” She swatted his arm with typical Annie force. “No! She doesnae fancy him! Take him with ye and, for God’s sake, quit natterin’ about it!”

  He couldn’t help grinning at her show of temper. Annie’s hair wasn’t the only fiery thing about her.

  She loaded several more items into the basket she was preparing and said in a softer tone, “One last thing, Broderick.”

  “Aye?”

  Fastening the basket’s lid, she took a deep breath and met his gaze. “Sabella. If it isnae too much trouble, see she isnae harmed.”

  Twice, the brittle beauty had helped them at great risk to her own safety. Annie didn’t have to ask, but he nodded anyway.

  An hour later, he gave instructions to Jack Murray, the coachman John had lent him to drive the oversized black travel
coach, and the footman, Stuart MacDonnell. Broderick’s men and his three brothers mounted their horses and positioned themselves around the carriage. Broderick looked around for his wife and found her near the castle doors, arguing with a wildly gesticulating Mrs. MacBean.

  Broderick frowned as he crossed the yard. The old woman thrust a leather pouch into Kate’s hands.

  “… ye’ll be thinkin’ push when ye should be thinkin’ pull. Ye ken?”

  His sweet wife nodded as though the madwoman made perfect sense. “Pull instead of push. Of course.”

  “Aye, there’s a good lass. That spoon is straight from Holland with no stops in between. The salve is for when ye find yer miracle. The knot willnae be loosened unless ye cut it free.”

  “Er, Mrs. MacBean, I really must be off—”

  The old woman seized Kate’s wrist. “Wait for the gulls. They’ll tell ye when morning’s come. Wait for his song. That’s when ’tis time to wake.”

  Kate clasped Mrs. MacBean’s hand and nodded, which appeared to calm the madwoman. Mrs. MacBean threw her arms around her, whispered something in her ear, and then released her to disappear into the castle.

  When Kate reached his side, he asked, “What was that about?”

  She shook her head. “Either a great deal of nonsense or …” She frowned at the leather drawstring pouch in her hand. “Well. Probably a great deal of nonsense.” After bidding John and Annie farewell, she smiled up at Broderick and patted his chest. “Shall we?”

  He opened the carriage door. “M’lady.”

  She climbed onto the step and paused. Turned. Grasped his coat in her fist and pulled him close. Then she kissed him with shocking intensity. “I prefer Mrs. MacPherson,” she whispered against his lips.

  As she ducked inside, he struggled to slow his heart. “As do I, lass,” he murmured. “More than I should.”

  Kate expected Broderick to ride outside the coach with his brothers. Instead, he spent most of their first traveling day seated beside her, offering his warmth when she was cold, his arms when she was weary, and his company when she desired it.