Highland Dragon (6 page)

“Books werenae all ye stole.”

“I dinnae
steal
anything.” Akira sternly corrected Kendrick then threw a berry at him for emphasis. “My benefactor sent those monies for my education, not for the Abbot to purchase a gold crucifix encrusted with diamonds and rubies. In my way o’ thinking, that crucifix belonged to my family, whom if ye will recall, was starving in ninety-four.”

“Akira came tottering home with the Abbot’s crucifix twinkling ’round her neck.”

“Ye stole the Abbot’s finery?” Calin asked, not sure if he was appalled or proud.

“I made her return it when I took her back to the priory,” Kendrick interjected. “But—”

“I returned home two months later with a herd of sheep, a couple of fence dogs, and a
few
more books.”

“When ye were a lass o’ ten?” Calin questioned, not believing his ears. The Abbot never once mentioned this, and Calin had sent monies for five consecutive years to the Beauly Priory.

“I had help from two o’ the lay brothers. It took us six sennights to guide that herd home.”

The memory even received a chuckle from Kendrick. “A sight to make your eyes laugh. Akira atop her palfrey leadin’ a nayin’, bell-ringin’ herd of at least a hundred sheep down the dirt path o’ Dalkirth. The village sounded like an English court full o’jesters.”

“The Abbot wasted the monies, and I was teaching Sister Esa more than she was teaching me.” Akira defended, then explained further to Calin. “Ye see, as punishment for taking the crucifix, the Abbot refused the sisters to educate me, all the while, my family was trying to get broth from a turnip. The Ionas’ ribs were near to poking through their skin when Kendrick made me go back to the priory the second time. Our borders fell into the hands of reivers that year, since half our kinsmen were off on some foolish exploit to regain the Earldom of Ross from King James. Their absence left our borders unprotected. After four raids, the villagers of Dalkirth and my family were starving.”

“So ye stole from the Abbot to feed your clan.” He should’ve been angry with her, but the fact she held such compassion for her people not only pleased him, but filled him with pride. This quality would be well-received by the MacLeods.

“I would have if The Beast hadnae slaughtered the herd after a fortnight.”

“The Beast?” Calin questioned, although he had a hunch who
The Beast
was.

“Our chieftain—The Beast of Brycen. He slaughtered the whole herd for his warriors, because nay one would reveal where they came from. The bastard even wasted their wool.” Akira’s eyes lit with contempt, revealing her obvious hatred for Laird Kinnon. This would probably not be a good time to inform her that the man she spoke so venomously of was her father.

“Akira!” Kendrick shouted. “Ye would do weel to hold your tongue.”

All traces of courage drained from her face at the scolding. “Why do ye protect the mon’s status as our laird? He is not fit to hold the rank, and ye weel know it. He’s a horrible mon who has raised the levies until the villagers have nothing. And the women are at his mercy when he wants them.”

Akira rubbed her arms as if the mention of the man gave her chills. “He’s sculpting his dreadful son into the verra essence of himself. Darach has not left the walls o’ Brycen Castle in nigh eight years. The villagers have coined our laird’s son ‘the devil’s spawn.’ A name he has rightly earned from my perspective.” Akira glared again at her brother, and Calin wondered what secrets were hidden there.

A dark mood surged to the surface when Kendrick chugged a large swill of whisky, then stood. “Ye are blatherin’. Nay one calls the laird’s son that name, ’cept ye. The villagers dinnae even know if the boy still lives.” He marched into the grove until his form became nothing more than a shadow.

“Crivons. I love the mon dearly, but he can be such an ogre.”

Calin offered her a half-hearted smile and inhaled a breath of courage. Knowing his time ran short, he needed to take advantage of the situation. A brief look was all it took to send his men crawling inside their plaids for the eve. He retrieved a fur pelt from his steed and spread it out at the fire’s edge. Jaime’s snoring rumbled before Calin finished smoothing the pelt. His cousin had never had enough worries to keep him from sleep.

Calin reclined on his side, crossed his legs at the ankles, and extended his hand palm up for her to join him.

Akira’s eyes widened. “Think ye I am going to bed down with ye?”

“Nay.” He chuckled at her bold question. “I dinnae compromise ye at
Tigh Diabhail,
and I’ve nay intention of taking what belongs to your…benefactor. I just thought we might talk a wee bit closer to the fire.”

She hesitated and looked to the grove where Kendrick had gone. When Calin made no attempt to force her, she accepted his offer, but sat so rigid he feared her back would snap. His presence obviously made her uncomfortable, hence making his task all the more difficult.

“So…what do ye know of this…mon ye are to wed?” He brushed his finger over her hand resting at her side.

She quickly brought her hand into her lap and glanced again into the grove. “Kendrick has told me little about him, but he has been good to my family. When Papa moved us from the bailey into the cot-house, my benefactor sent monies to ease the transition. Papa went to war shortly after and died fighting for the royalists, leaving Kendrick with the responsibility of rearing six girls.”

Her tone revealed her political position. He had fought alongside Sir Alexander of Lochalsh to reclaim the Lordship of the Isles from the crown, but his motivations had been different. He supported the chief of Clan Donald to form alliances to protect their clans. Debating the issue with this headstrong woman would cost him valuable time, so he avoided the subject. “Kendrick has done a fine job rearing all o’ ye.”

“He has done his best, but I suspect his burdens will lighten ten-fold after he finds husbands for the Ionas.” She laughed, which smoothed the nervous tension from her brow.

“And the husband he has found for ye. What do ye hope he is like?”

“I hope he is like Papa.” Her answer came quick, and Calin wondered if he would ever live up to that standard. Murrdock Neish had been a good man.

“What else? Do ye hope he is a braw mon?”

Akira’s head cocked on her shoulders as if to call him an idiot. “Truth is, I hope he’s a wee bit older and not much to look at. Mayhap with a pack of weel-mannered bairns needing cared for.”

Calin chuckled. “Why would ye want such a fate?”

“If he is older, then he will be finished with the rutting, and if he is homely then I’ll not have need to chase the women from our marriage bed.”

Mulling over her bold explanation, he sat up beside her. Her chin tilted upright as she awaited his reply.
Say the words,
he told himself. Soliciting such personal details from her this way was wrong. He tucked a stray black curl behind her ear, and this time she didn’t shy away. He leaned closer, fully prepared to tell her he was her benefactor, but the words held tight to his tongue. Her lips separated as if to speak, but she only breathed, and he felt her air on his face. Their eyes locked and the silence seemed to go on forever. He raised his hand to touch her cheek, but his fingers only hovered beside. “I doubt ye should be worrying yourself over such matters. I would wager any mon would give his eyeteeth for your loyalty.”

A loud crackle popped from the fire and gave Akira a swift kick in the gut. What was she doing? She felt herself staring into the laird’s amber eyes while he spoke, and she had no business getting lost there. She glanced back at the grove.
Where in all o’Scots was Kendrick?
Her brother hadn’t left her in the presence of another man since…well, her brother had never left her alone with a man.

When the laird twirled her ebony curl around his finger, she froze. He may as well have chained her for she lacked the ability to move away from him. A ferocious tingle flitted beneath her skin, and she rushed to continue the conversation. “In all actuality, I expected my benefactor sooner. I am already three years past marriageable age. I should have a bairn at the breast and one tugging at my kirtle by now.”

“Ye are hardly past your years. I think the mon will be eager to see ye swollen with his child.” He stroked her forearm with the back of one finger. In a flash, gooseflesh covered her skin beneath his simple caress. She giggled like a half-brained maiden and fought with a loose thread on her skirt. She was acting a fool. Kendrick would bruise his hand on her backside for talking to the laird in such a way.

She blew a relieved breath when her brother’s stealthy footsteps crunched out of the grove.

Kendrick gruffly interrupted. “Did ye talk?”

“Akira was just telling me her expectations of her benefactor. She hopes he’s auld and homely with a pack of weel-mannered bairns to rear.” Laird MacLeod smiled at her brother, and she regretted sharing such details with him. The look of disgust on Kendrick’s face made her feel as if she’d betrayed her benefactor. Her body, in fact, had. But the sour expression curling her brother’s lip was directed at the laird, not her.

Kendrick stepped closer, shook his head, and glared at Laird MacLeod. “Ye’ve not told her, have ye?”

“Ye went to take a piss. ’Twas hardly enough time for me to broach the subject.”

“Ye’ve had plenty o’ time, MacLeod,” Kendrick growled. “Ye will tell her or I will. She deserves the truth. Now!”

“Tell me what?” Akira sensed Kendrick’s agitation. She’d seen that scowl before. He’d worn the same disappointed look a hundred times when scolding her for disobedience. “Tell me what, Kendrick?” she asked again when no one spoke.

Her brother stared at Laird MacLeod, giving him ample opportunity to answer. When he didn’t, Kendrick proceeded. “The new chieftain o’ Clan MacLeod is your benefactor and has come to claim ye as his wife.”

“What?” Akira’s hands flew to her face to cool the hot humiliation flooding her cheeks.
This
cunning, arrogant man, who just asked her a dozen questions about himself, was her benefactor? “Nay! ’Tis not true.”

Recalling the details she’d provided him caused her further embarrassment. He deceived her, which told her more than she wanted to know about his character. And the innocent smile he offered her bit into what little pride she felt she had left. The air thickened and grew too stifling to breathe. She stood and gave Kendrick a glare she hoped passed for righteous indignation. “How could ye? He is not what ye promised me.”

“He is what he is,” Kendrick offered without emotion.

She bolted into the timberland. A full moon reflected off the firth, which lit her way to the thickest tree in the grove. Digging her fingers into the bark, she started climbing.

“By the saints! What did ye do that for?” Calin jumped to his feet, annoyed with Kendrick. He’d been learning so much about his new bride. He’d even come close to swindling a kiss from her sweet lips. The wooing had been going well.

“Cause ye were makin’ a fool o’ her.” Kendrick retrieved a plaid from his saddlebag. “Ye should go after her. I assure ye, she’ll not be comin’ back on her own.”

“Why should I go after her? Ye are the one who sent her fleeing.” He squinted into the grove, searching for signs of movement.

“Ye are the one who humiliated her, and she’ll be goin’ home with ye in two days. I strongly suggest ye make amends. She is thick-brained. If ye keep the truth from her, she’ll sense your deception and all the vengeance we have waited so long for will be lost.” Kendrick kicked dirt and debris onto the fire, reducing the short flames to orange embers. “A word of advice before ye continue the wooing. Dinnae tell her she’s bonnie. She’ll think ye lie.”

“Why?”

“She believes she’s cursed. I have never been able to convince her otherwise.”

“Cursed? Is she as blind as ye are loose in the head? What are ye blathering about?”

“She believes she was marked by the devil and condemned to live among those blessed by angels. When Akira was a wee lass, I caught her in a cavern burnin’ goat’s hair and dead frogs. She said she was castin’ a spell to fix her face. She showed me a hand-scribed book she got from an old crone at Retterseils’ fair. I never seen the likes o’ such a book. Scrawled in a language I dinnae know. The lass bawled like an auld starvin’ cat when I burned that book, but I suspect she had memorized every page anyway.”

Calin winced. Branding her had been the act of a foolish boy, who thought she was no more than another possession. An act that had caused her to think ill of herself. He would right that wrong quickly. He spat on the dying embers just to hear the sizzle. “She is not marked by the devil.”

“Think ye I dinnae know that? But even I wouldnae tell the lass ye branded her like livestock when she was born.” Kendrick reclined beside a hollow log. “Ye should start with an apology, and look up.”

“Why am I to look up?”

“Cause she’s in a tree. Probably the tallest in the grove.”

Calin found yellow petals scattered between the roots of a thick oak—ten decades old if it were a day. Looking up, he saw nothing but a twisted mass of black limbs outlined by colored moonbeams. However, the rustle of branches revealed Akira’s refuge.

He definitely had to do something about her disposition before he presented her to his clan as the new Lady of Cànwyck Castle. The laird’s wife couldn’t throw tantrums every time she didn’t get her way. Never would he allow another woman to disgrace him.

Knowing Akira felt deceived, he would indulge her this one time and try to solicit her willing acceptance of their union. Calin filled his lungs with fresh air. “Akira Neish, ye will come down at once.”

Silence sliced the crisp air.

“If ye intend to sleep in this tree, ye will freeze to death by morn.”

He didn’t expect a reply, but he didn’t expect to be pelted with acorns either. Muttering a slew of curses, he climbed the oak until he saw her boot dangling from a limb. Before he could reach her, she ascended. The higher she climbed, the more exasperated he became.

“This is ridiculous,” he grumbled. “The chieftain does not chase women up trees.”

“Then go back and send Kendrick.”

“Why would I send anyone? Just come down.”

“I cannae.”

“Why not?”

“I can climb with the grace of a cat, but going back down is a whole other matter,” she confessed, yet continued to twist around the branches away from him.

“Then why would ye be foolish enough to climb higher?”

“Because up is the only place I can go to rid myself of ye.”

Calin reached up and grabbed her ankle, ending her escape. He secured his balance and perched himself over the breadth of a thick limb projecting nearly straight out from the trunk. Muttering his opinion about her unruly behavior, Calin propped both feet against two lower branches and pulled on her calf. She didn’t budge. This was foolishness. He sat in a tree pulling at his bride’s skirts like a wee laddie tugging on his mam.

Aggravated by her defiance, he jerked her down, catching her around the waist when she landed on her backside in front of him.

“Ow!” she complained while the limb bobbed up and down, protesting their combined weight. Leaves rustled and the angered caws of birds filled the air around them. She struggled to put space between them.

“Be still! Else we’ll both be on our arses.” Calin sat back against main trunk and coerced her to straddle the same limb as he. Their knees knocked and the slight angle of the limb forced her to lean into him.

“Think ye I care if ye fall to your death?” She splayed her hands around the limb between her legs and snapped herself upright.

“Cool your tongue, lass. I just want to talk.”

“I think I’ve talked aplenty for one nigh’. Ye’ve had your fun, m’laird,” she retorted through clenched teeth.

She jerked back in an obvious effort to escape him and nearly toppled out of the tree. Snagging her around the waist, he raised her clear off the limb and brought her closer to him. “I’ll talk, and ye will be still and listen,” he said in a husky voice.

He paused, searching for the appropriate words. Her animosity had taken him by surprise. He’d been good to her, provided for her, seen her reared with few hardships by a loving family. Did she really find him so repulsive? Why did the notion of marrying him make her so hostile?

Kendrick had suggested apologizing, but that wasn’t something he was accustomed to doing. But he’d made a fool of her and mayhap he owed her that much. “Forgive me for deceiving ye. I was simply curious to know my wife’s opinion of me.”

“I am not your wife.” Akira enunciated every syllable with irrefutable clarity.

“Ye will be in a matter of two days.”

“Two days!” Akira shrieked in shock, then searched her mind to finagle a means to prolong it. “But the banns. The banns have to be announced every Sabbath at the kirk for three sennights.”

“Aye. The chaplain has made this announcement for over a month. And not one member of the congregation has objected.”

She wasn’t impressed with his wit or his crooked smile.

“I’ve provided for ye and treated ye weel. ’Tis time ye marry.”

Akira couldn’t argue this. She’d known most of her life her benefactor would one day come for her. A man she felt a sense of loyalty to. But Laird MacLeod wasn’t the person she’d imagined a thousand times over the years. Her benefactor was supposed to be older, more fatherly, much less well-favored. She didn’t possess the beauty to keep a man like Calin MacLeod faithful to their marriage bed. She had nary a doubt he would be philandering moments after they wed.

Calin raised her hand to his lips, then pressed a tender kiss over the bruises on her wrist. “Would it be so bad? Being wife to the laird?”

“Aye. ’Twould be bad. ’Twould be horrible. I am not competent to be a laird’s wife. My tongue acts of its own accord, causing me to behave in a way some may deem inappropriate for a woman, much less a lady. Ye should reconsider. I’ll not make ye a good wife.” Her excuses were futile, but they were all she had. Akira wrenched her hand out of his grasp, but couldn’t escape his stare. Those eyes. So gentle and loving, reminding her of autumn leaves. How could anyone with such warmth in his eyes be so deceptive?

“Ye are disappointed I am not auld and homely with a passel of bairns for ye to rear?”

She’d let him stew over her opinion of his handsome qualities and, instead, directed her attentions on the more tangible portion of his question. “So ye have nay bairns?”

“Not yet. I had hoped ye might help me with that,” he said with a devilish edge that lit her face afire. Again, he reached for her hand and blew a sigh of relief when she allowed him to have it.

His obvious advances made her uneasy. No one had ever shown an interest in her, since the beauty of her sisters overshadowed her. Even if someone had, they needed to get through Kendrick first. Only two men had proven courageous enough to brawl with Kendrick, and those two were now husbands to Neala and Maggie. But Calin was a man of status. He put Kendrick in his place with a bold look. His constant arrogance implied he never had difficulty gaining a woman’s attention. Undoubtedly, a more advantageous marriage would benefit his clan. She had no tocher or title or ground for that matter. She only had two kirtles to her namesake.

What could he possibly gain from their union?

A breeze swirled through the branches and brushed a chill over her skin. Hugging herself, she gazed off into the amber mist swirling around a full moon and searched for her next response.

His warm hand glided up the underside of her cheek. So strong, yet gentle.

When she returned her attention to him, his lips were a breath from hers. Did he intend to kiss her? Should she let him? Before she could answer either of these questions, he leaned closer. The moon reflected in his golden eyes just before he closed them and gently drew her bottom lip between his. He repeated the action with her top lip before he pulled away.

Crivons!
“What did ye do that for?” she asked while her heart pounded with a fervency she’d never known.

“Ye dinnae enjoy it?”

“Is it necessary for me to enjoy it?”

“If ye are to be my lady wife, I’d like ye to enjoy it.”

“If?” she questioned, with a bit too much enthusiasm. “Then I’ve a choice in the matter?”

Calin reached for her again, and whatever she intended to say got lost between his lips. Her arms flailed out to her sides searching for stability. The quest came up short as the only anchor her hands found was against his chest. His very brawny chest, flexing with muscles beneath a woolen
léine
shirt.

Pressing one hand against the small of her back, he drew her closer to him. His finger stroked the curve of her lips, as if he wanted her to open to him. The voice in her head begged her to allow him in, to experience all the things she’d denied herself while waiting for this man to come for her.

She didn’t. She pushed him away. “M’laird, please. How are we supposed to discuss aught if ye continue to silence me?”

“And what would ye like to discuss?” His lips found their way up her neck. “Mayhap the way your creamy skin glows beneath the colored lights of summer or the smell of the
siùcair
blossom lingering behind this ear?”

Calin’s full beard tickled the side of her neck as he nibbled her earlobe. Her skin prickled over her scalp. “M’laird, we should discuss our marriage contract.” The man was a heathen—with a particular fondness for kissing. She couldn’t deny his touch excited her. The newness of kissing exhilarated her, but she was smart enough to know she entered into a contract she had no gain in. Since she lacked charm, she’d use her wit to get his agreement to certain stipulations. “I’d like a boon or two of ye before I agree to this union.” Holding him at bay with a palm against his chest, she thought she may have gained his attention.

“I’ll consider your requests, if they’re reasonable.” No sooner had he spoken, did he turn her palm upright and graze over the skin of her forearm with his lips.

“I would like my kin allowed onto your land for the wedding.”

He didn’t respond.

“M’laird, do ye agree?” A heavy frown pulled her face downward.

“Do I agree to what?” he carefully asked.

“That my sisters and Mam will be allowed to attend the wedding?”

“Done. Mayhap ye’ll not be as demanding as I thought.”

And mayhap I will.
Akira decided to push the laird. He’d been generous over the years with his monies, and she intended to see how far that generosity would extend. “Ye will allow me to return to the cot-house when Maggie delivers.”

“Who’s Maggie, and what is she delivering?”

Akira frowned. Surely he jested. She must have mentioned Maggie a dozen times in her missives as a child. “Maggie is my sister. And she is to deliver her first bairn soon.”

Calin shook his head as if to free himself of the addle in his brain. “Aye. Forgive me, my mind is elsewhere.” He repositioned her onto his lap, her thighs draped over his. Their position, though stable, was most improper. His closeness made her insides quiver and her pulse flutter.

Then he grew beneath her.

The only time she’d ever seen a man’s parts was when she caught Kendrick in the barn with a village maid. Of course, after she caught him he shrank. This felt nothing like shrinking. She was flattered that she’d caused a state of arousal in him.

Calin brushed her hair over her shoulder and trailed delicious kisses up and down the column of her neck. Her body tightened when a breeze cooled her moist skin, contradicting the heat of his mouth. He drew back briefly. “For how long do ye wish to return?”

“Return where?” Akira breathed, and fought to regain her senses. What was he talking about?

He donned a sly smile as he reminded her of her question. “Ye were requesting to go home when your sister delivers. I inquired how long ye wish to be gone.”

“Aye. Of course. I’d like to return for…a month or two. Until Maggie is capable of getting along on her own.”

The man made her wanton. The warmth of his lips heated every nerve ending in her body, and the trail his bushy beard left in the wake of his kisses raised gooseflesh across her chest. She never expected kissing to be so…so painfully arousing. A spiraling sensation tickled her lower belly, causing her to squirm.

She needed to remain focused—a task she found extremely difficult in his embrace.

“A sennight. Ye may return for a sennight,” he rebutted.

“A fortnight,” she countered.

“Done. Aught else?” he queried as he wrapped her hands around his thick neck where she held on as though she might be in danger of falling out of the tree. His roving hand released the three laces of her shift to find its way beneath her plaid. The shock of his swiftness startled her as much as the feel of his fingers against her bare skin, now caressing the ridges of her backbone. She wondered if he might actually be attracted to her or if he made such bold advances on all women with such ease. After all, Calin was the laird and a wealthy laird at that. She decided to allow him enough freedom to keep him agreeing to her requests.