Highlander's Lionheart (Beasts 0f The Highlands Book 1)

by Alisa Adams

  When they walked into the great hall for dinner that evening, conversation between the warriors stopped. All eyes were on the women coming down the stairs. Godet led Brigda and her sisters. Her steps faltered for a second as she noticed the silence and the stares. Her glance went instantly to Gordon. His eyes held hers with an intensity that made fissures of lightning streak through her body. She recovered quickly at the gentle nudge of Brigda behind her and continued down the stairs.

  Gordon could not take his eyes off of Godet. She was dressed in a gown of deep midnight blue that fit her body like a lover’s hands. As she came closer, he realized it was a deep, dark plaid, his plaid, made up into a tight-fitting frock coat and edged all down the front in metal buttons and lace. There was lace at her wrists and neck as well. The coat was longer in the back and had a feminine, flirty tail that cupped and then swelled over her buttocks and flared over the rest of the skirt that fell to her feet in swirls of midnight. He stopped before her and swallowed hard.

  Brigda and the others came to stand on either side of Godet. Brigda was in a bright gold gown that lit up the bright hues in the red of her hair. She was smiling at Gordon with a knowing, secretive smile. Gordon cleared his throat and took a step back, away from Godet. “Ladies,” he said, bowing his head. The five women walked past him to the table without a word to him.

  Behind them came Aunt Hextilda. He hadn’t seen her coming down the stairs behind the other women. “Dinnae ye look dashing, Laird!” she called to him with a twinkle in her eye. “I am fair puckled. Will ye escort an old woman to the table?” she asked him and took his arm, not waiting for him to answer. “Ye look a bit riddy, something got ye flustered?”

  “Riddy?” Gordon asked her testily.

  “Red-faced, maybe ye are embarrassed? Or perhaps ye are nervous—” Aunt Hextilda started to say. but Gordon cut her off.

  “I understand what ‘riddy’ means and the answer is no. It’s just slightly warm in here that is all,” Gordon answered quickly.

  “Hmm, yes, perhaps it is warm. Wouldn’t ye say that my niece looks exceptionally beautiful tonight in her gown?” Aunt Hextilda asked him with a twinkle in her eye.

  “Aye, the dark blue plaid looks striking with her black hair,” Gordon answered, staring off after Godet.

  “Och now, I was talking about young Ina. That niece.” Aunt Hextilda let out a rusty laugh that sounded like a cackle.

  Gordon growled low in his throat. He hadn’t noticed anyone but Godet. He looked at Ina and growled again. The little minx attracted men like bees to honey. She was in a pale blue dress. As tiny as she was the petite, little Ina was all grown up and the dress showed off every curve to perfection. A group of his younger men had gathered around her with silly puppy grins on their faces. Beside her was Ceena with Tristan frowning down at her and she frowning up at him. She was in a gown that was somewhere between the green color of the sea and the soft blue of the sky. It seemed to glisten as she moved this way and that. There were metallic threads woven throughout the dress. Her hair was not loose but pulled atop her head in a riot of gold and brown curls. Flori too had on an extravagant gown of deep burgundy. All the women seemed to be showing off their finery. He was startled to see that Brigda did not have any powders on her face or stains on her lips nor any false hair pieces. She was even more beautiful without all the false artifices.

  Gordon studied the women closely. They were talking quietly amongst themselves, ignoring the men hovering around them. He walked Aunt Hextilda to the table, took her hand off of his arm, and bowed his head slightly once again to the ladies.

  “Please sit, ladies.” Gordon glanced at his men and gave them a fierce frown and a raised eyebrow. They quickly moved away to take their place at the long benches on either side of the table.

  The table in the great hall was filled to capacity with the castle’s top warriors. All their attention was on the ladies, for they had not sat down yet and the men did not know what to do. They couldn’t sit until the women did. Godet and her sisters were clustered around Brigda who was standing in front of the bench where there was enough room for the ladies to sit. The sisters were whispering urgently to Brigda. Brigda kept shaking her head no to them.

  “They have left room for us. Ye must Brigda, all are watching,” whispered Godet.

  “Is it truly very painful?” Flori asked gently.

  Brigda nodded her head violently in answer to Flori’s question.

  “Och! It cannae be. ‘Tis not like ye have niver been on a horse! Just lift yer leg a little,” Ceena cajoled.

  “I have never been on a horse that big or that wide, I am telling ye!” Brigda whispered urgently. “I cannot lift my leg over the bench!”

  “It’s a low bench! It requires very little lift!” Ceena argued. “Try!”

  “Think of it like the stairs ye just came down,” Ina said helpfully. “Just take a step up, over, then down and sit. It’s that easy, ye can dae it!”

  “Oh! My legs, my but—”

  “Brigda! Hush! Dae not say buttocks!” Flori interrupted then quickly covered her mouth for she had just said it out loud. Here, in front of all the men. She groaned. They were making a scene. She hated scenes.

  “But it is my buttocks that hurt!” she hissed very quietly. “I can’t hold my dress up and balance and lift my leg. I need to hold onto something!” Brigda groaned.

  “Sards!” Ceena laughed under her breath and got behind Brigda. “Lean into me Brigda, I’ll support ye.”

  Godet motioned to Flori and Ina as she bent down to Brigda’s legs. “Lift her skirts,” she said quietly to them, “Just a bit. Not that high!” she corrected them as they all began to giggle. Brigda was giggling and moaning at the same time.

  Godet looked up at Brigda sternly. “Brigda I am going to lift yer leg. Stop laughing and pay attention! I am going to lift it ever so slowly and gently.” Godet looked at her sisters and Brigda. “Try to stop laughing, ladies, and get serious,” she hissed, trying not to laugh herself. “I mean it!” She tried to glare at them but they just laughed harder. “Act like ladies!”

  “Is there a problem, ladies?” came a deep voice. It was Loughlin. He was standing beside Godet looking at the women with great confusion.

  Godet hastily dropped Brigda’s leg and stood up, blushing fiercely. She ignored Brigda’s loud yelp of pain, followed by her groaning laughter. Godet couldn’t help it, she started giggling again. She tried to stop long enough to answer Loughlin. “Lady Brigda cannae lift her leg to sit on the bench. We are trying to help her.”

  At that, all the women began to giggle again riotously.

  “I will help her,” Loughlin announced. He moved in, his big size forcing the women to move away from Brigda.

  “Loughlin, ye may not touch me!” Brigda told him hastily.

  Gordon came over to see what was going on. Tristan, Liam and some of the other men joined him.

  “She is in grave pain,” Ina said putting her arm out to stop Loughlin. “Very, very grave pain! Ye cannae touch her.”

  “What is the source of this pain?” Gordon demanded.

  The women got very quiet, their giggles fading. They looked furtively around to each other and finally, all eyes settled on Godet. “Well…” Godet stammered, “ye see... It’s... She… Well, her...” she stammered on and came to an embarrassing halt.

  Loughlin took a step forward again. “I will pick her up and put her on the bench,” he declared, scooping Brigda up even as she let out a loud, groaning screech. Loughlin didn’t get a chance to take even one step toward the bench before Brigda was screeching. He couldn’t put her down fast enough. He stepped back quickly, looking terrified and sheepish.

  Flori let out a loud huff of breath. “Once again Loughlin, ye ask, ye dae not tell!”

  Gordon stepped forward then. “Does Lady Brigda require a chair?” he asked with a lopsided grin. “Instead of the bench? And perhaps a cushion?”

  “Nonsense,” teased Tristan. “I think the l
adies were doing fine. Carry on, ladies,” he said pulling Loughlin away.

  Ceena frowned as she watched him walk away. She vowed she would find a way to get even with that mischievous man. Gordon stood there with his arms crossed in front of his chest. Godet stared at him. He looked imposing. His arms looked even more muscular crossed in front of his chest that way. His biceps were bulging. He was staring back at her. His wavy, dark hair fell to the shoulders of his white linen shirt, showing off his wide, broad shoulders, Godet sighed to herself. He had such beautifully masculine hair. She clenched her fists at her sides, she was itching to run her hands through all that hair. Those little fizzes of lightning were striking all through her body again.

  “Well?” Gordon asked, looking only at Godet.

  “Well, what?” Godet asked him, raising her chin. She heard the muffled giggles of the girls behind her.

  “Can she sit down on the bench or does she need a chair brought to her?” he questioned with a raised eyebrow.

  Godet turned to the girls and gave them a stern look, shushing them. “Dae ye want a chair?” she said quietly to Brigda.

  Brigda quickly nodded her head, yes, but the other girls shook their heads no.

  “We almost had her over the bench,” Ina said innocently. Ceena and Flori agreed with broad grins.

  Brigda groaned again. “I am very hungry,” she whispered.

  “So, lift yer leg then!” Ceena said with a teasing grin.

  Gordon stared at them, his eyebrow raised. Then he turned back to Godet. “Dae ye need assistance lifting her over, or…?” He spread his hands wide. “Something?”

  Godet stared at him and then back at the girls, biting her lower lip. Then she smiled and walked over to the table, but not to the girls, to his men. The men were all standing between the bench and the table, ready to sit as soon as the ladies did.

  “Gentlemen,” Godet said pleasantly, “would ye all be so kind as to move down so that Lady Brigda could slide into the end instead of stepping over the bench to sit there in the middle?” She asked the question with a sweet smile on her face.

  Instantly, the big warriors all began shuffling down the line of the long bench, elbowing one another when some just stood there, staring open-mouthed at Godet, not understanding what was going on. Godet turned to Brigda with a broad grin. “There ye are, ye may sit on the end now, just slide in, no need to step over!”

  Gordon was having a hard time not laughing. He was standing behind Godet and had motioned to his men to do as she said when they had hesitated at her odd request. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “I dinnae think that solves all her problems. She’ll still need a cushion I think.”

  Godet shivered at his mouth so close to her ear. She nodded her head and swallowed. Tristan had already thought of it and came forward with a cushion which he placed ceremoniously on the bench. He gave Brigda a wink and a grin and moved away. He caught Ceena’s glare as he walked past her, so he winked at her as well, then he gave a short laugh.

  Gordon touched Godet’s elbow and moved toward the table. “Now that that is all settled, can we all sit now?” he growled to all at the table and ended with a stern look at Brigda.

  Godet pulled Brigda down beside her. Brigda landed rather unladylike on her cushion with a loud, “Oomph”. She started to say ‘oh my buttocks’ again, but Godet nudged her hard in the shoulder.

  Ceena and Ina had taken empty spots across from Godet and Brigda. They did not miss Brigda’s groan or what she had said under her breath as she landed hard on the cushion. They had started giggling, but Brigda stretched one leg under the table and kicked them each in the shin. Ceena straightened up with surprise then gave Brigda a huge smile.

  Loughlin shoved aside the warrior that Flori had sat down next to, much to Flori’s embarrassment. The soldier quickly moved out of the way of the huge scarred warrior. Loughlin started intercepting the wooden bowls and trenchers that were being placed on the table. He was busy loading food onto Flori’s plate. Flori’s eyes were growing bigger and bigger as she watched all the food he was giving her.

  “Stop!” she whispered harshly to him.

  “Ye will eat. Ye are thin,” he said to her as he scooped more mince and tatties onto her plate.

  The minced beef and mashed potato portion was more than she could eat in a week! Her eyes grew huge as he then put some haggis and neeps on her plate. Her stomach churned. “I am not thin. I am quite plump and ye know it!” Flori said, dismissing his comment. She had always had more hips and bosom than her sisters. It had always been the way of things and made no difference to her. She stopped him with her hand again, turning her nose away from her plate. “I dinnae like haggis, Loughlin, take that off me plate if ye please and thank ye!” she said quietly to him as politely as possible. She had never liked the mixture of sheep offal, suet, oatmeal, and spices that was made into a sort of sausage. It was served with mashed turnips or neeps which she did like, just not with haggis.

  “Porridge with goat’s milk and kale then?” he asked her, poised to put some on her plate. “It is good. I like it. Ye will like it.”

  “No,” she said curtly.

  “Salmon with boiled nettles and sheep cheese?”

  “No,” she said, though she did like sheep cheese and salmon. She did not like the boiled nettles.

  “Caudell?” he suggested, holding a pitcher. At her questioning look, he explained, “It is red wine with egg yolks. Yer Aunt Hextilda has a keen liking for it, tho I dinnae, but ye may like it.”

  “Certainly not,” she said firmly.

  “Brain cakes? Fried up nice,” he said hopefully.

  “Oh dear, no,” she said holding out her hand and once more turning her face away from the cakes made from sheep’s tongue and brains boiled in milk then mixed with bread crumbs and some parsley and formed into patties then dipped in egg and fried.

  “Oatcakes then? Everyone likes them,” he said getting ready to place one on her plate.

  “I suppose, but that is enough. The mince and tatties are plenty. And some kale would be fine,” she told him, seeing his fallen face and trying to make her rejection of his offerings somehow softer. Loughlin seemed pleased that she now had a full plate. He tucked into his food with relish.

  “What dae ye eat at Fionnaghall then?” Loughlin asked between bites of food. His question was directed to all the sisters. When Flori seemed reluctant to converse with him, Godet answered his question.

  “Well, we eat the same oat dishes as ye dae here at Conall, but being by the sea we also eat a lot of fish. There is also seal and lamprey. Puffins are a favorite,” Godet added.

  “Puffins? Sea birds?” Loughlin asked.

  “Oh yes, they are quite delicious, ye would enjoy them,” Godet said with enthusiasm.

  “No. I dae not eat sea birds,” Loughlin said firmly.

  Flori spoke up. “Ye like them,” she said with a sly grin.

  “I dae not. Why dae ye say that?” he said sternly to Flori.

  “Ye ate them at Fionnaghall when we were locked in the room together. That meal they gave us was puffins,” she told him with a grin, watching his expression.

  He stared at her. “I ate a sea bird?” he asked incredulously and then shook his head.

  “Ye did, with relish. Ye loved it,” Flori said firmly.

  “I was only hungry. I did not taste it,” Loughlin said adamantly.

  She simply shrugged.

  “Someday I will try it again. If ye like it then I will like it,” he said simply and went back to eating his food.

  Flori could only stare at him. Then she looked over at Godet who was smiling softly at her and Ceena who had a big, broad, and knowing grin on her face. She frowned at them both and went back to her very delicious mince and tatties.

  Gordon had been watching the exchange between Flori and Loughlin. He turned to Godet, watching her as she watched her sister. Looking at her made his body tighten, made the blood rush through his veins. She was achingly be
autiful. Her mysterious silvery, blue eyes haunted him whenever he thought about her. Those eyes looked right into his heart.

  “She is in good hands. Loughlin will continue to watch over her,” Gordon said in a low voice.

  Godet startled and looked up at him. He had made sure that she took the space on the bench at the very end. Next to him. “There is no need for him to watch over her. I dae that,” she murmured.

  “And who watches over ye?” he asked, his voice deepening as he leaned closer to her.

  “I need no one to watch over me,” Godet stated emphatically without looking at him. She would not be drawn into those eyes of his. Some days they were green, other days more gray-green depending on his mood. Gray was when he was angry. They were green whenever he had kissed her. Right now, they were very green. She swallowed. Godet wouldn’t be pulled to him nor to the wonderful spicy male scent of him. Something about him always seemed to pull her toward him, making her feel safe, cherished, beautiful, desired... hopeful.

  “What if I want to watch over ye?” he said in a husky voice.

  Still, she would not look at him. “I know what ye want from me.” She took a shaky breath. “Dinnae ask that of me Gordon,” she pleaded in a whisper.

  “Ye don’t—” Gordon started to reply, but he was interrupted by Tristan’s voice getting louder.

  “What dae ye mean ye are practicing with the Lochaber ax?” Tristan’s voice thundered. Ceena and Brigda stopped mid-sentence of their conversation and looked at him. Ceena narrowed her eyes at Tristan.

  “What dae ye think we mean by practicing with the Lochaber ax?” Ceena demanded right back at him.

  “’Tis no a lady’s weapon!” Tristan insisted heatedly.

  “No weapon is a lady’s weapon if ye really get to the truth of it,” Godet interjected quietly but firmly. “Yet, we fight and we fight well.”

  “Aye,” Ceena agreed loudly.