When he released him, Alan attempted to shove past Tristan and lunged at Mairghread.
“Bitch!”
Tristan pushed Mairghread behind him and stepped fully between them. Tristan’s hand shot out and slammed into Alan’s jaw. Tristan had never head a sound more satisfying than the crunch of his stepbrother’s jaw breaking. Alan collapsed and Beatris screamed. Tristan simply looked at his guardsmen who had come forward. They collected both Alan and Beatris and removed them bodily from the great hall.
Laird Sinclair rushed forward and wrapped his daughter in his arms. She melted into his embrace and clung to him. She began to shake as all the energy drained out of her. She felt like she would dissolve into nothing but a puddle if her father did not continue to hold her up. When he stepped back, she dipped her head so no one could see the tears that were now streaming down her face. She would not have any of these people think her weak. When she felt a bit more composed, she looked up at her father. He gave her a tiny nod of the head. Tristan caught sight of it. Ah, now I ken where she gets that mannerism from. The apples dinna fall far from that tree.
“Lady Mairghread, ma apologies canna even begin to go far enough after what just happened, but I offer them to ye anyway. I am so vera sorry. I ken that ye bathed already, but if ye would like, I could have another bath sent up to ye and perhaps a hot toddy to help ye sleep.”
“Thank ye, Tristan. I willnae have anyone hauling up a tub and hot water for me at this late hour. I would take that tot of whisky though.” She was too tired and drained to realize that she had addressed him by his Christian name in front of his clan.
Magnus pushed past and elbowed Tristan in the ribs. Tristan was about to shove the person back until he realized it was Magnus. Magnus looked stricken to see his sister in such a state. While the other Sinclair men still looked ready to do murder, Magnus looked as if he would be ill. He scooped Mairghread into his arms and moved towards the stairs without a word.
“Magnus, I’m tired but nae broken. I can walk on ma own. Put me down. Now!”
Magnus simply looked at her and shook his head.
~~
The great hall had finally cleared of all of those who would return to their crofts. Those who remained were bedded down for the night, and snores could be heard from all corners of the room. Tristan was very ready for that drink he had promised himself hours ago.
As he turned towards his solar, he spotted the last person he wanted to see right now. Sorcha was headed directly for him, and she was clearly on a mission. He had been bedding Sorcha for the better part of two years. While she was satisfying between the sheets, she was also a social climber. She kept hinting that she should have the official label of the chief’s leman. Tristan knew what she really wanted was to become the lady of the keep. Neither was going to happen. While Sorcha was beautiful and satisfied his lust, he had no intention of making their arrangement anything more serious or in any way permanent. He knew her to be cold to the other servants in the keep, and she would never properly fulfill the duties of the lady of the keep. Never mind the fact that marriage to her would bring no dowry or alliance to his clan. Tristan had never formally kept a leman even though there were two other women that he had had a long standing agreement with. He was unwilling to commit to any woman enough to give her that much influence over him or to think she had a position of authority over the members of the clan.
Tristan watched her approach. The normal surge of lust that he felt when she was near was completely missing now. She did nothing to stir him or his cock. Just the opposite. Tristan was dreading having her near him. Her scent of roses was cloying and sickening to him after the light fragrance of Mairghread’s lavender and heather. Sorcha knew she was a very attractive women. She had long, wavy blond hair with blue eyes and an ample bosom. The latter she had on display for him now. The ties to the front of her kirtle were half undone, and she was practically falling out of her gown. She stopped in front of him and reached out to run her hands over his chest. It was her normal greeting, but this time, Tristan grasped her wrists before she could touch him.
“Sorcha, tis nae a good time.”
“But ma laird, ye ken that I can always make it a good time.” She veritably purred as she stepped closer.
Tristan took an instinctive step back. With sudden clarity he knew exactly what he needed to do. As he looked at Sorcha, he felt nothing but an overwhelming desire to find Mairghread. He wanted to hold the lass with the chestnut hair that had streaks of fire running through it just as those flames ran through her spirit. He had once found Sorcha’s blond hair enticing. He had enjoyed seeing it draped across his shoulders as she rode him or when he wrapped in his hand as he took her from behind. Now it seemed mousy in comparison to Mairghread’s. He had once enjoyed flicking his tongue against Sorcha’s lips to feel them open as his tongue dueled with hers. Now he could only think of the fresh mint scent that always seemed to come from Mairghread’s perfectly shaped, pinky-red lips.
“Sorcha, this canna happen now. This willna happen again. Our arrangement has seen its course and is now at an end.”
“What?” She nearly screeched.
Tristan looked around the hall to make sure no one had noticed. He had no intention of pulling her into a dark alcove for privacy because he knew she would launch herself onto him. While his mind wanted nothing to do with her, he was not so convinced that his body would stay in agreement.
“Lass, I’ve enjoyed our time together. Ye ken that to be the truth. But this situation wi Sir Alan and the Sinclairs has made me realize that I’ll be needing a wife soon. I willna bring a woman to this keep to consider taking to wife if I have another woman here that I’m bedding. I willna do that to any potential wife. That means our time together is done.”
With that Tristan turned towards his solar. He left a fuming Sorcha staring at him. If he had stayed any longer or looked back, he would have seen the pure hate and malice that shone in her eyes. He would have been forewarned that a woman scorned was a dangerous enemy to make.
Chapter Seven
Mairghread tossed all night long. The chamber was spacious and warm without being stifling. The bed was among the most comfortable she had ever felt, but her mind simply would not settle despite how weary she was both physically and emotionally. She had thought that the journey to Mackay land had been never ending, but now she wished she had never arrived. Her mind kept replaying the events of the previous day. What she found most disturbing was her memory kept rushing back to her interactions with Tristan more so than her interactions with Alan. While she held nothing but contempt for Alan, she could not help the warmth that spread across her whenever she pictured Tristan. She thought of him as she had first seen him as she entered the great hall. He had seemed such a hulking figure at first that she thought with her eyes unadjusted to the dimness that she was seeing a shadow cast along the wall. She quickly realized that it was not a shadow but a towering, braw man who took her breath away. Then she saw him as she and Magnus returned to the keep. She had felt badly for him as he tried so very hard to make up for his stepbrother’s disinterest in her. Finally, she saw him as he pushed her behind him for protection and grasped Alan around the throat after he had insulted her for the last time. She could not stop the gasp that came out each time she pictured him slamming his fist into Alan’s jaw. He had been so kind to offer another bath to help her calm down. He had looked so earnest when he looked into her eyes. She had almost swooned then. Not from her confrontation with Alan. Not from the stares of all the people surrounding them. But from the warmth and concern she had seen in his eyes.
It was almost sunrise when she opened her eyes once again. She had eventually drifted off, but she did not feel well rested. Quickly, she rose and dressed. She gathered the few belongings she had brought with her and placed them back in her trunk. She would go down and break her fast before the others awoke for she knew her father would want to be off and would insist upon eating on the road. She did not t
hink she would last that long.
She nearly stumbled head first over a log that was blocking her door when she opened it. However, logs do not groan, nor do they move on their own. Through the dim torch light of the passageway, she saw two piercingly green eyes staring up at her.
“Tristan? What are ye doing outside of ma door? Ye canna be here. It isnae proper.”
“I couldnae sleep kenning that ye might feel unsafe in ma keep. I came to guard yer door so ye would ken that ye were safe.”
“Thank ye.”
“I could hear ye moving aboot last night. I ken ye didna sleep well. I canna help but feel responsible fer that.”
Mairghread blushed knowing that he had been close enough to know what she did in bed. She looked past him to the stairs. Part of her wanted to make a mad dash for them to escape this conversation, and another part of her never wanted to leave this spot if it meant that they could continue standing together.
“Lass, I ken that ye and yer kin are aboot to leave, but I hoped ye might be willing to walk with me for a spell. I would like to speak with ye aboot something.”
“Vera well. Lead on.” She did not even think twice about following.
Tristan extended his arm to point in the direction of the stairs, but rather than go down to the great hall and out to the bailey, he led them up the stairs. Mairghread assumed he would be taking them to the battlements. Certainly, he would not be taking her to his chamber, would he?
As they reached the third floor, Mairghread looked down the hallway. She was stunned by what she saw, or rather what she did not see. She turned accusing eyes on Tristan. He could feel her anger radiating off of her.
“They’re gone, lass. I didna send their guard away. I sent them away.”
“What do ye mean?”
“I couldnae sleep either. Not even after more than a dram of whiskey. It bothered me that they remained in ma keep. I felt it sent a message to all that I ultimately condoned Alan’s behavior even if he and Beatris were under lock and key. I had a score of guardsmen escort them to a vacant croft at the edge of the village. They will have left aboot an hour ago for Beatris’s clan. They can have them back. Neither Alan nor Beatris have any claim for remaining here. I simply allowed them to stay out of a sense a duty. I realize now that it was a misplaced sense of duty.”
“Ye sent them off in the middle of the night? That seems rather dangerous to them and yer guardsmen.”
“Ma guardsmen are used to travelling in the dark as they have each patrolled ma lands fer years. I kenned that ye would be leaving with the sun, and ye will have to travel some of the same route as they will. I didna want to run the risk that ye and yer kin might catch up to them on the trail.”
“Tristan, that was vera kind of ye. I dinna ken what to say.”
They had reached the top of the next flight of narrow stairs that led out to the battlements. While the days were warm since it was summer, the moon provided no such warmth. Tristan regretted not suggesting that Mairghread gather her arisaid. He unfastened the clan broach at his shoulder and released the extra length of plaid.
“I ken it isnae proper, but I dinna want ye to catch a chill while we are up here.” He stood beside her and held out the plaid. Mairghread paused and looked into his eyes. He realized she must have felt confident in what she saw as she sidestepped closer to him. He wrapped the plaid around her shoulders and kept his arm around them too. Unconsciously, she leaned in to his heat. He was warmer than a blazing fire. Her side that touched his quickly warmed up. The contact sent a shiver down her spine. Tristan mistook it as a sign that she was still cold, so he gently pulled her closer to him. She was not about to protest.
“Mairghread, there is something that I would like to talk to ye aboot. I still feel exceedingly badly aboot how ma bro—stepbrother treated ye. Ye didna deserve any of it. I dinna want ye to think that that is how all Mackay men treat women.”
She paused and turned to stand in front of him. They were now fully cocooned within his breacan feile, or great plaid, and his heat warmed her chest. It seemed to seep inside her and spread down to her belly and her lady parts below. His saffron leine was open at the neck, and she could see his smooth chest beneath it. Her fingers itched to touch the skin that was revealed. She wondered if it would be as smooth as it looked. As she looked up, she noticed a lock of his ebony hair had fallen over his eyebrow. It took every last bit of her self-control not to reach up and brush it back off of his forehead.
“Tristan, I never thought that Alan’s actions were that of all Mackay men. I dinna believe that ma da or ma brothers think that either.”
“Even after all that happened yesterday, I canna say that I regret that ye came. I do regret that ye were meant to be promised to ma stepbrother. Promised to him rather than to me.”
The arm that had been around her shoulder had at some point slid down to wrap around her waist. He felt her soft intake of air and then her mint scented breath fanned across his face. He could barely stand the temptation of her being so close, but he refused to act in any way that might remind her of Alan.
“I have to admit that I dinna want ye to leave here, not today and not any day after. I would ask ye to consider something. I have felt drawn to ye since the moment I laid eyes on ye. I canna seem to stop thinking aboot ye, and I have found maself impressed with ye many times over. Ye have a keen mind and a sharp sense of humor. I have seen ye with ma clan, and many of them have already told me that they like ye. That isnae an easy thing to accomplish in so short a time. Ye ken Highlanders arenae often welcoming to outsiders, but a good number have already told me they are glad ye’ve come. They ken ye are kind and warm hearted. I ken it too.
“I would ask ye to consider staying on for a bit. I would like to see if we suit. If ye feel that we do and we agree, then I would ask ye to marry me. I dinna want to miss this opportunity with ye. I feel that ye may be just the right woman fer me. I--”
She reached up and placed one soft finger on his lips. She smiled up at him, and he felt his cock twitch. It had come alive the moment he wrapped his arm around him and saw his plaid draped over her. Now it was fully awake and it ached to press against her. Once again, he held himself in check. He would not do anything to jeopardize this moment.
“I feel drawn to ye as well. The idea of marrying Alan but seeing ye every day was unpleasant, but kenning that one day ye would marry another was nearly torture. I wasna sure how I would do it. I kept trying to tell maself that I was simply impressed with what a braw mon ye are and that it’s naught but infatuation. But I dinna think it is just infatuation.”
“Ye think I’m a braw mon?”
“Is that all that ye heard of what I said?” She raised one eyebrow and pursed her lips, but he could see the mirth in her eyes.
“Nay, Mair. I heard all that ye had to say. I dinna think that it’s infatuation on ma part either.” She liked the term of endearment. She had never had one before. Her brothers had certainly had several nicknames for her growing up, some of which still stuck, but no one had used her actual name to come up with one.
“Tristan, ye will have to convince ma da to let me stay. I can try, but it’ll have to be ye that shows him that I will be well treated here. I doubt his anger will have calmed much even now. Ma brothers are another case too. Even if Da agrees for the sake of the alliance, I dinna ken that ma brothers will ever let Da leave me here.”
“I understand. If I had a daughter or a sister who meant as much to me as ye clearly do to them, I would have committed bluidy murder last night. Neither Alan nor I would have been left standing. Mair, I would ask one last thing of ye before we go below stairs.” He noticeable swallowed and took a breath. “Would ye let me kiss ye? I think that would be a good place to start if we are to see if we suit.”
Mairghread caught herself holding her breath. She lifted her chin slightly as she looked up at him. He gently put his thumb and forefinger on her chin as he lowered his head. Suddenly, Mairghread had a sinking feeli
ng that this was not a wise choice. Not because she did not trust him but because she did not trust herself.
“Wait.”
“What? What do ye mean?”
“I dinna think we should kiss. Not yet at least.” She hurried to get her explanation out as she saw the look of surprise turn to hurt in his eyes. “Tristan, I want to kiss ye. I want it rather badly, almost, nay, most definitely, too much. If we kiss and we enjoy it, then it will lead to more kissing. That’s not an altogether bad thing, but I want to ken if we really suit. I dinna doubt that we would suit physically. I ken how attracted I am to ye, and I think ye are at least a wee bit attracted to me. If we kiss, I’m afraid that the physical side of our relationship will become too much of the focus.
“I willna always look like this. One day, I will have bairns. I will gain weight and not all of it may come off afterwards. Ma hair will grey and I will get wrinkles. If the only thing that truly binds us is our physical desire, then what will we do when that fades? I need to ken that we have a real foundation for a marriage. Does that make sense to ye?”
“Aye, mo chaileag. It does.”
“Tristan, please one thing before ye go on. Alan called me ‘ma sweet,’ and it made ma skin crawl. I dinna ever want to be called that or anything close to it again.”
“Vera well, little one. I willna ever call ye that even if I one day find out that that is how ye taste. And I will wait to find that out until ye feel we are ready. Ye are wise beyond yer years. I agree that if we are to spend time getting to ken one another for the purpose of determining whether we are right for each other, then kissing and cuddling can come later.” He placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “That shall have to last me for now. We had better get down below stairs. Yer da should be up by now, and I dinna want him tearing ma keep apart looking fer ye.”
His Highland Lass (The Clan Sinclair Book 1) Page 4
