Every Heart Has Its Day (4 page)

He ran his tongue over her lips, then gently suckled them. Her breasts tightened, her nipples hardened. She should pull away, but chose not to.

His tongue swept past her lips. Gooseflesh covered her arms, yet her body warmed. His hand slid down to her buttocks and drew her closer. A swelling she had not earlier noticed pressed between her thighs. Moisture pooled in her nether regions.

Though Hunter dreamt of another, her heart soared. Despite her doubts, she could not stop him. What harm could come from believing the attention belonged to her and her alone? Just for a few moments. She caressed his cheek and returned his kisses.

Hunter’s touch on her breast broke the spell. She was not a doxie to be toyed with, then tossed aside.

She leapt from the pallet and threw every cover within reach onto Hunter. Gavin, a grouse in hand, opened the door.

“Take care of him.” Embarrassed and confused, Kasey pushed past him.

“Where ye be going? Will ye return?”

Without answering, she ran to the falls. If only she need not return. She sat on a boulder, licked her lips, and savored his taste. She hoped she would never forget his touch for she would never experience another. She spent a few moments gathering strength from the water before she returned.

Gavin kept his gaze on the grouse he plucked. “Did he bed ye?”

Heat rose to Kasey’s cheeks. “Why would ye assume such?”

“Mussed hair, flushed cheeks, swollen lips. Ye looked like a lass well bedded.”

She remained silent.

“Ye be not the first to fall prey to Hunter’s charm.” He turned away and mumbled, “And I pray ye be not the last.”

Though his words stung like a hundred bees, she refused let him see her heartache. “Hunter did not bed me. I ken his kisses resulted from the fever.”

She touched Hunter’s brow and shook her head. “I wish we had a tub to cast his whole body into cool water.”

“I could carry him to the river.”

Kasey admired Gavin’s devotion. He was neither as tall, nor as broad as his brother. Bearing Hunter’s full weight would strain him. “Hand me those blankets.”

“Why, milady? The day be as warm as any we shall see this summer.”

“When you remove him from the water, the air will chill him.” She filled her arms with woolens while Gavin donned his sword. “I doubt ye will need that.”

“Someone attacked one Mackintosh,” Gavin bent down and dragged Hunter onto his shoulder, “I dinna wish to be next.”

They trudged through the forest. Kasey’s face grew hotter with each step. Though every hard plane of Hunter’s body had pressed against hers, she had no desire to see it. “Will ye need help undressing him?”

Gavin declined.

“If ye need me, I shall wait beyond these bushes.”

As she listened for Gavin’s call, dark shadows crossed her mind’s eye. She saw herself edging through a long, black cave toward the smallest flicker of light. Though she could not see Hunter, she sensed his spirit.

Determined to make sense of this vision, she allowed herself freedom to experience all it revealed. Just as her mother’s tear-stained face cleared the fog, strong hands lifted and slung her onto hard shoulders.

“What the—? Randall put me down!” Kasey flailed her legs and beat his back. Had she been able to move a bit to the right, she would have scratched out his eyes. The brute had no right to touch her, much less pick her up and carry her away.

“Evonne told me ye be too ill for visitors. Tell me, Lady Cameron, how can one in such poor health walk this far?”

She pounded Randall’s back as she wriggled her hips down along his chest. When her knee brushed against his ribcage, she hauled back her foot and kicked toward his courage sac.
No devil’s spawn for ye
.

He caught her ankle before she hit her mark. “Witch! Stop thrashing.” He pushed her upper body over his shoulder and pinned her knees to his collarbone. “Laird Cameron gave me the odious duty of seeing to yer welfare. If I must, I shall lock ye in yer chamber each night and keep ye by my side every waking hour.”

She vowed to strangle him as soon as he set her down.

“Unless ye prefer to hurry along our nuptials and sleep in my chamber each night?”

She gagged back the bile rising in her throat. “Put me down!” She must remain by Hunter’s side until she applied Dragon’s Breath. As she opened her mouth to scream, two short screeches rent the air.

****

Those whistles signaled only one thing—impending battle.

Cradling his ribs with his right hand, Connor crawled from the water. Pain stole his breath, but he could not pause. Gavin needed him. He placed his hand on a boulder and dragged himself to his feet. Where was Kasey? Fever may have clouded his senses, but he remembered her touch, her kiss. He did not imagine them. He grimaced as he wrapped a plaid about his waist. He edged through the foliage, toward his brother’s voice.

“Yer lady requested ye put her down.”

Connor peered around a tree trunk. The warrior who had attacked him held Kasey. Dammit. He wanted to kill the bastard, but he had not the strength or weapon. He took heart in the chill in Gavin’s words. Though his brother had spent many a night listing Kasey’s every fault, he now protected her.

“Move aside, Mackintosh. This be not yer concern.”

“Ye be mistaken, Cameron. The lady belongs to me.”

Connor did not care for Gavin’s claim, but he remained silent. He ignored the pounding in his head as he crept behind Randall. He leaned against a tree to fight the blackness that threatened to enshroud him.

“Ye have a choice.” Gavin unsheathed his sword. “Put her down or die.”

Randall lowered her. As soon as her foot touched the ground, Kasey ran. She gained two steps before Randall grabbed her waist, jerked her back against his chest, and laughed. “Ye canna kill me without hurting yer little whore.”

“Tell me, Cameron, do ye hide behind yer mother’s skirts?” Gavin pointed the sword’s tip toward the ground.

Connor took a breath, relieved that his brother put Kasey’s safety ahead of revenge.

“Ye truly be a cutcher, Randall,” Gavin said, “to hold the lady atween us.”

“Ye call me a coward? I be not the one who holds an unarmed man with the threat of a sword?”

Gavin’s face reddened. He raised his sword. Randall shoved Kasey toward him. She lost her footing and wrenched her upper body. Gavin twisted in the opposite direction, caught Kasey with his free hand, and hauled her to his side.

Sweat broke out on Connor’s forehead, but a surge of energy burst through his veins. “Release her, Gavin, but shield her with yer life.”

Connor then glared at the Cameron’s pale face. “Be ye ill? Mayhap ye fear ye see a ghost?” He grabbed the trembling man by his shirt. “I ken ye attacked me.”

Randall shook his head.

“I recognized yer sword. Be ye too spineless to confront me and too weak to finish the deed?”

Randall glared at Kasey. “Ye stupid cummer! Ye helped our enemy? Our laird will deal with yer treachery.”

Despite the pain shooting through his side and back, Connor twisted the collar, impeding the man’s ability to breathe. Men must protect their wives and daughters should they be blessed to have them. Threatening a woman of any station was unacceptable, but to threaten his angel declared war. “Ye soil the earth with yer presence.”

He held tight and punched Randall’s face. Agony, caused by his arm’s recoil, tore through Connor, but he held fast and drew back to strike again.

“Hold!”

Connor grimaced. He turned and faced not only his laird, but the king as well. Behind them stood an assembly of Mackintoshes and the king’s guard.

“We search for two missing Mackintosh warriors. Mayhap we should continue looking. I see before me two fawns who think themselves bucks.” The displeasure in the king’s voice rang clear. “I will see the four of ye in the great hall posthaste.”

Broderick strode to Kasey’s side. “Ye, little lady, will ride my horse.”

“Thank ye, Broderick. I be honored.” Kasey tugged on Broderick’s sleeve. After he leaned down, she whispered into the emissary’s ear.

Broderick nodded, then followed her toward the lodge.

Connor’s chest tightened. She had not even glanced back at him.

“Heed my words, Connor. She will give ye endless trouble.

Chapter Four

Kasey wrung her hands as she stood in the doorway of the cottage. “Please accept my apologies for the delay, Broderick.”

Broderick frowned at the two disheveled pallets as he crossed the room. At the table he counted aloud the soiled bowls and goblets he dropped into a bucket. Each number sounded more gritted than the last. He mumbled as he folded the pile of blankets on the floor. When he uncovered her arisaide, he stared for a few moments and then snatched it up. He turned accusing eyes toward her. “This cloak be yers.”

“Dare I deny it? It be the Cameron plaid.”

He growled.

“Please, Broderick...”

“Silence!”

Kasey closed her eyes, determined to dam the threatening tears. She thought him her friend, but he was no different than her laird. He, too, condemned her without allowing her a defense.

After several thuds, she opened her eyes. The emissary shoved her things into her dorlach. She grabbed a pouch from his hand. “Have a care. I canna easily replace some of these.” She pulled out several vessels in search of an empty flask.

Broderick tried to push her toward the door, but she refused to budge. “Ye dare to keep the king waiting?”

“I would be quicker if ye would stay out of my way.” She found the flask, carried it to the hearth, and ladled the steaming potion into it. In her hurry, she overfilled the vessel. Boiling liquid seared the back of her fingertips. She shoved the stopper into the flask, then dunked her hand into a bucket of water.

Broderick raised her hand from the water. “Have ye aught for burns?”

At her nod, he retrieved her dorlach. “Be quick aboot it. We have dallied too long.”

She applied balm, then wrapped her hand in a clean linen strip.

Broderick tied the bandage, shoved her bag into her other hand, and led her outside where he practically tossed her onto his horse.

At the castle, he helped her dismount and walked her to the door. “I be disappointed.” He shook his head and walked away.

A member of the king’s guard beckoned her into the main corridor, where they came upon Ciara crying. Kasey hurried ahead of the guard to console the MacPherson lass. “Things be not as they seem. Dinna worry.”

“Liar!” Ciara slapped her, then ran down the corridor wailing.

Kasey rubbed the sting from her cheek as she followed the guard through the hall. She spotted only Gavin and Randall. Where was Hunter?

In her chamber, Kasey walked to the window and stared out. Gossipmongers had already tried and convicted her of being a strumpet, but their opinion did not matter.

She must find Hunter. Though he appeared stronger when he confronted Randall, the cooling effect of the river would not last. His fever could rise faster than an arrow shot into the air.

She opened the door. Two guards blocked the passage. Had the king ordered her imprisoned though she had broken no laws? She would find out soon enough. “Please, I wish to see Hunter.”

“Ye canna leave until the king beckons,” the older man said.

“Ye dinna understand. Hunter needs me.”

“I need a woman, too. Mayhap ye could tend me?” The younger guard leered at her chest.

She wanted to kick him. Instead she slammed the door. Someone would come to get her. The healer’s absence left no other choice.

As she paced the room, she caught her reflection in the looking glass and gasped. She could not appear before the king in such disarray.

Hunter’s blood had soaked through her chemise. She scrubbed the dried remnants from her chest, belly, and arms. After she cleaned her womanly regions, she sighed at the red on the rag. At least she had not started her monthly bleed while at the cottage. She tossed the washcloth into the scarlet-tinted water and watched her blood mix with Hunter’s.

The water swirled and then rose from the bowl as golden light. A deep timbre crooned as the halo enshrouded her body. Kasey reveled in its warmth until a frigid gale tore it away and replaced it with black clouds. Lightning flashed. Crimson rained. The golden light fought the wind, but the darkness prevailed. A scream rent the air.

“Lady Cameron?”

The guard’s voice tore her from the vision. She called through the closed door, “Dinna worry. I be fine.” She cleared her mind and donned a clean chemise.

The guard opened the door. “Why did ye scream?”

She snatched up a clean gown and held it to her chest. “Leave.”

“Be ye sure, milady?”

She wished she had a sword. “Remove yerself now.”

The other guard pulled him out and closed the door.

As she finished dressing, she realized the light in her vision matched the color of Hunter’s eyes. The warmth matched his touch.

Nay. She must have misunderstood. She wrested a comb through her hair. Hunter’s fevered mind must have mistaken her for another. Not once had he called her by name.

But the way he looked at her. What if, by some miracle, he knew she had tended him? He had claimed they would find a way. She shook her head. Her laird would kill her before he allowed a union between the Camerons and the Mackintoshes.

In less than a moon, she had defied her laird, betrayed her clan, offended the only man who cared about her, and lent her heart to a man who certainly did not care. She prayed for mercy.

****

“Afore ye face the king, son, I want some answers. Begin by telling me what happened since ye left camp.”

Connor struggled to lift his head. His father stood with his clenched hands on his hips, yet the concern etched in his eyes belied his commanding stance. “Milord, Randall of the clan Cameron attacked me.”

“Have ye proof, son?”

He rested his forehead in his palm and shook his head.

“Ye canna make unfounded accusations. Why Randall?”

Connor closed his eyes against the sun’s glare, which aggravated his headache. “Sapphires as blue as Lady Cameron’s eyes adorned the hilt of my attacker’s sword.” He cringed. Damn the pain that loosened his tongue.

His father sighed. “The beauty of Inverness be naught compared to Lady Kasey, be it son?”

“As ye wish, Milord.” Normally he would have argued, but he had to save what little energy he had for the king.

“And since the attack?”

“I canna recall aught atween the attack and waking to find Gavin holding my head as I floated in the river.” He saw no need to tell his father of the compassion in Kasey’s eyes or the warmth of her body molded against his. He tried to moisten his lips, but his mouth had gone dry.

“How did ye come to blows with the Cameron today?”

“Gavin and I overheard a scuffle. He rushed ahead. I expected Randall to run like a scared rabbit and blocked his only path of escape.” Connor leaned back to alleviate pressure on his ribs and flinched. “Do ye think I broke his nose, milord?”

Caedmon nodded. “It appears ye be an innocent, though foolish, victim.”

“Ye need not remind me. Had I not lowered my guard, naught would have happened.” When he asked fate to introduce him to the lady of the falls, he should have been a wee bit more specific.

“It be inconceivable ye would allow aught to cloud yer senses.” Caedmon stared across the courtyard. “There be yet another innocent victim. Most fathers would demand marriage, but Laird Cameron would declare war first.”

Connor rubbed his burning eyes. “The bletherin bender must ken the Camerons be no match for us.”

“Ye look weary, Connor. Let us face the king and put this unpleasantness behind us.”

“I appreciate yer support, father, but I would prefer to go alone.” Connor swayed to his feet and waited for the blackness to clear. A battle awaited him. He would not succumb to pain and hand his enemy certain victory.

Though the great hall adjoined the room in which his father remained, Connor thought the distance endless. While still out of the king’s sight, he leaned against the door to gather his breath and his courage. A few moments later, he strode into the hall.

The king drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. His scowl warned of his black mood.

Connor stopped next to Gavin, then bowed halfway before pain stole his breath. He clutched his side and straightened. The room danced. As much as he despised showing weakness, he leaned into his brother.

The king’s eyes widened. “I shall interview ye separately. Connor, come with me. The others will wait here.”

Gavin offered aid, but Connor declined. He followed the king to a small alcove adjacent to the great hall and silently cursed every misstep.

“Flushed. Staggering. How much courage did ye drink afore ye arrived?” The king paused long enough for Connor to see the censure on his face. “Be that as it may. Ye assaulted a man from another clan. If ye fail to account for yer action—”

The thunder of crashing waves drowned the king’s voice. The room spun before Connor’s eyes. He took as deep a breath as his ribs allowed. “Gavin will explain.” The room darkened.

“Guards!”

At the alcove’s door. Gavin found Connor lying face down on the floor.

“Och, no.”

That voice. Gavin peered through the crowd that gathered behind him until he found Lady Cameron’s maid. He pushed past the others, latched onto her elbow, and towed her into the corridor. “Fetch yer lady.”

“Ye have no right to order me.” She crossed her arms. “She has sacrificed enough for the Mackintoshes.”

He glared into her slitted eyes. “Nay, lassie. She has just begun to pay her debt.”

“Her reputation be in tatters. She faces severe punishment for breaking the Cameron pledge. When will ye leave her be?”

The tears spilling down Evonne’s cheeks tore at his heart. He reached to comfort her, but she stepped back.

“The entire clan kens Laird Cameron has no use for his only child. I have seen him strike Lady Brietta for lesser sins than Lady Kasey’s.”

Gavin cupped her face and looked into her chestnut eyes. “I understand yer fear.”

“How could ye?”

“My father once refused Laird Cameron’s petition for my aunt’s hand because the Cameron struck her.” He took Evonne’s hand and held it despite her attempts to pull free. “I shall allow neither yer lady nor ye to suffer at yer laird’s hand, but now my first concern be for my brother. Yer lady proclaimed it her duty to help all in need. Did she lie?”

“Milady never lies.”

“If ye dinna fetch her, Hunter will die. Can ye live with his blood on yer hands?”

Her eyes widened, then narrowed, before she hastened away.

The sway of her hips fostered a half smile. He imagined holding her full buttocks as he thrust into her. With her spirit, she would almost certainly be a passionate lover. Mayhap he could convince her to return with him to the Mackintosh holding.

****

“Come quickly!” Evonne panted as she barged into Kasey’s chamber. “Bring yer dorlach!”

“Hunter?”

At Evonne’s teary-eyed nod, Kasey ran to the door, but found her path blocked by the guards.

“The king requires Lady Cameron’s presence posthaste,” Evonne said.

The guards did not budge.

“Ye wish to have both yer liege and clan Mackintosh as enemies?”

The men stood fast until a dignified man clad in the Mackintosh plaid rounded the corner and ordered, “Escort Lady Cameron to the great hall.”

On the other side of the castle, a guard led Kasey to the proper chamber. She turned to her maid. “Find Broderick. He kens the whereabouts of my bag.”

She entered the room and gasped. Hunter’s face looked whiter than linen. His chest barely rose. She crossed the rushes and laid a hand on his forehead. His brow burned as hot as the Dragon’s Breath she had earlier spilt on her hand. She curtsied to the king and Laird Mackintosh, while she silently beseeched Evonne to sprout wings of a hawk.

“I shall need cold water, clean linens, and a chair by the bedside. Someone please help me strip his shirt and roll him onto his belly. This room be too hot and stuffy. Put out the fire and open a window.”

At the king’s nod, servants obeyed her bidding. After the water arrived, she placed one cool, wet cloth under Hunter’s forehead and another to the nape of his neck. Then she prayed as the setting sun painted the sky every hue of the rainbow.

“What kind of healer be ye?” Before Kasey she could answer, Caedmon shouted, “Remove her!”

Kasey pasted what she hoped was a serene expression on her face as she rose and curtsied. “Ye must be Laird Mackintosh. Ye share many features with yer warrior and the same arrogant charm.”

She cursed herself for that revealing statement. “I be sorry, milord. I meant no insolence. I await the potion that will put Hunter to right.”

“If ye intend to use that foul smelling concoction, why did ye order the hearth extinguished?” Gavin asked.

“Ye still mistrust me? I wish ye and all others present,” she gazed at the Mackintosh laird, “would think of me as a healer, not a Cameron.”