Highland Hawk: Highland Brides #7 (33 page)

He tried to remember where the shadow had been; where it had disappeared.

She was in this wing, but beyond that he knew little. He could only search. For one moment, he debated calling assistance. But he could not. Though his soul ached with his own weakness, he could not allow others to know of her activities, for if he was right--if she planned some evil against the king—

Haydan closed his mind grimly against the thought and continued his search.

The night dragged on forever as he listened for any sound, checked every shadow. But he found nothing, until finally, his mind burning with questions, he paced toward her room. There was naught to do now, but wait at her door and—

A noise! Just around the corner.

He stopped abruptly and pressed his back against the wall. A creak filled the darkness. He waited, breath held. Was it she? Had she turned the other way?

But suddenly a shadow appeared. Without thought, without warning, he grabbed hold.

There was a gasp. She tried to jerk away, but the effort was small and he held on.

"What... what do you want?"

Coldness settled into Haydan's gut at the sound of her voice. He pulled her closer. "You!" he growled.

She stiffened, and then, like a wilted flower, she collapsed.

He felt her fall. She'd been wounded, he thought, and bent to lift her into his arms. But in that instant, she kicked out wildly. The first strike hit his thigh. The second was more effective. Fire burst in his knee. He staggered back against the wall with a rasp of pain.

It took him a moment to realize she was scrambling away.

"Nay!" he growled and threw himself after her.

His fingers tangled in something, and he pulled. She shrieked as she was yanked against his chest. "Let me—" she began, but he jerked his fingers from her hair and clasped his hand over her mouth.

From somewhere down the hall, he heard a door open. Squeezing her closer against his chest, he propelled her around the corner and pressed his back against the wall. Pain pounded his knee like the strike of a blacksmith's hammer. He gritted his teeth and tightened his grip.

She mewled against his palm.

"Quiet!" he growled.

Her elbow slammed against his ribs. He sucked in his breath, but kept his hand steady.

From around the corner, two voices piped up in question.

He had no choice but to propel her forward, his hand still pressed against her mouth as he steered her away from the voices and toward his room.

Hell would surely have been no farther, but he managed to force her inside finally and close the door behind them.

He turned her loose. She spun toward him and backed away.

"I'll know why," he said.

Even in the darkness, he could see her eyes widen, could hear her sharp intake of breath. "Haydan?"

"Aye." He filled his lungs with air and willed himself to disavow the pain. "I've waited a long while for the truth. I will know it now."

Silence answered him, then, "The truth?"

Anger made him take a step toward her. Fear made her back away.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Truly? So you always sneak from your window in the wee hours of the morn?"

He could hear her breathing. "I did no such thing."

"Aye, you did." He took another step. She retreated. "Repeatedly, I think. I will know why."

"You've no right to question me."

"I do, for I am the king's guard. Do you disremem- ber?"

"I've done naught to disturb the king."

"Nay, only to disturb me, lass. Why were you in that room?"

"I am sorry." Her voice was breathy.

He scowled. "What?"

"I did not mean to hurt you. Indeed..." He could see her hands meet in the darkness. "I did not think you would find out."

"Find what out?"

"You cannot blame me, Haydan. I was not meant to be alone."

Silent moments ticked away as he debated her words. "Do you mean to say were... seeking companionship?"

"Aye."

He stared at her for a moment, and then he threw his head back and laughed.

"What is so amusing?"

"I have heard better lies, lass."

"You think I lie? Then here is the truth, Haydan the Hawk. I gave myself to you, thinking we shared something special betwixt us. But since that night you have repeatedly turned me aside. And now I find... I find I cannot bear to be alone after—"

"Don't!" he warned in a low hush.

Her breath hissed between her teeth. "Don't what?"

"Don't lie to me, Catriona. Not now. Not after you kicked me in the knee. 'Tis not nice."

She raised her chin. "I am not lying."

"Oh? Who were you with this night?"

A moment of silence; then, " 'Tis none of your affair. I gave you a chance, but you did not take it. Thus I will find another. 'Tis the way with women."

"What the devil are you talking about?"

"Lady Fayette offered herself to MacKinnon but he turned her aside—that's why she goes to others. 'Tis the same with me. I thought you cared for me, but it seems you only wanted my innocence. Others are not so choosy."

His stomach twisted at the thought of her with another. Rage boiled like black tar, but still he wanted her, whore or saint. Even now, when he was filled with anger and pain and roiling frustration, his senses were filled with her. "You forget," he said. "I did not think you were a virgin, and still I wanted you."

"You did not want
me,"
she said. "You but wanted a few hours of my time." She paused, looking small and frightened. "I wanted more. I wanted your love." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "But I see I do not have that, for you cannot even bear to touch me." She took a step closer, but he tightened his grip on her wrist in warning.

"Who were you with?" he asked, his voice low in the darkness.

"Lord Drummond," she said.

"Drummond!"

"And why not? He is a handsome man."

" 'Tis said he raped his first betrothed. Is that what you want? A violent man who would lie with you even as he tries to win another's hand in—" He paused and drew a deep breath, then loosed her arm and stepped back a pace. "You lie," he said softly.

Quiet held the room, then, "Ask him," she said.

Pain ripped his insides, diminishing the ache in his knee, but he could not quit now. "As you wish," he said, and placing his hand on the latch, nodded toward the door. "You first."

She didn't move. "I want you."

"What?"

" 'Tis you I want."

He dropped his hand from the latch. Pain turned to agony.

" 'Tis the truth," she murmured. "I swear it, Haydan. Say you will forgive me and I will never again lie with another." She stepped up to him. Her nearness filled his head. She touched his cheek. He closed his eyes to the confusion, the temptation. She was promising to be his!

Why, he didn't know, but surely it didn't matter.

Her fingers trembled against his cheek. She was scared. Why?

Reaching up, he took her hand in his and kissed it gently.

"Let us talk to Drummond," he said and reached for the latch again.

"Nay!" She jerked out of his grip.

He watched her in the darkness. "Why not?"

" 'Twould be...'Twould be embarrassing."

"So you can lie with him but you cannot speak to him?"

She jerked a nod.

"Come," he said and grabbed her hand again.

She tried to pull from his grip, but he held on, drawing her closer.

"Tell me the truth, lass, and I'll not make you talk to Drummond."

" 'Tis the truth!"

Rage spurred through him. Taking her by the arms, he shook her. "Damn you, Catriona! You've no right to make me love you if you will not trust me."

"You love me?" she whispered.

"Tell me, God damn it, or I will lock you away until I know you are safe from whatever evil you fear."

Her face went white as death in the darkness. "You would not."

"I swear I will," he growled.

" 'Tis Lachlan," she whispered. "They have taken my brother."

Chapter 27

"Who?" Hayden rasped. "Who has taken Lachlan?"

"I do not know." She lifted her gaze to his. The truth shone there in all its dark misery. "I do not know who has him," she whispered. "But Lachlan will die if I do not follow his orders."

"What does he want from you?"

"Jewels!" She croaked the word and grasped his tunic in clawed hands. "He said he wanted jewels. I told him I have no jewels. I told him. He laughed. He said he did not expect me to own them, but to steal it. After all, Gypsies are all thieves."

"You have been stealing?" he asked.

She was silent for a moment, not breathing. " 'Tis not just any jewels he wants, but a special medallion."

"The vellum drawing I saw. 'Tis that for which you search."

" 'Tis for my brother's life," she whispered.

"Why did you not ask for me help?"

"I dared not," Cat whispered. Turning her face against his chest, she cried. "He said if I told anyone, Lachlan will die."

He squeezed her to him, pressing her against his heart, aching with her horror.

"I have killed him!" she rasped. "I have killed him."

"Nay. Nay!" He pushed her away far enough to see her face. "You have not killed him, lass. 'Tis not true." He shook her gently, forcing her to look up. "There's no way for the brigand to know you have told."

"He'll find out," she whimpered. "He'll find out and kill him."

"Not so long as there is breath in my body!" Haydan growled. " 'Twill be the villain that dies."

"Nay!" Her eyes widened in abject terror. "You must not try to learn his identity. I cannot risk Lachlan. He is all I have."

"Lass—"

"Nay!" She tightened her fingers like talons against his arms. "Please, promise you will not. I will find the medallion. I must."

"I will assist you," he said, tightening his grip on her. "We will find it together, and I will purchase it from him."

"What if he refuses to sell it?"

"I will find a way to convince him. But only if you vow to take no more risks."

"I must deliver it to him very soon."

"Nay. I will do that."

"He said I could bring no one."

"You will not. I will go alone."

"But—"

"Nay!" he said, gritting his teeth. "I will deliver the medallion to the bastard. Just as I will deliver the lad to you."

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but he shushed her.

"You have my pledge, Catriona. As God is my witness, I shall not fail you."

Her hands trembled against his chest as she rose to kiss him. Her lips tasted of salt. He cupped her face in his palms and allowed himself a brief glimpse of heaven, but in a moment he drew away.

" 'Tis time you return to your room."

"Nay." Her fingers clutched his tunic. "Please, Haydan." She drew a shuddering breath. "Life is short. There is no guarantee that we will see another tomorrow. And if I die this night, I would wish to die in your arms."

He tried to be strong. He tried to refuse. But she trembled again and there was nothing he could do but lift her into his arms and carry her to his bed. It sighed beneath her weight. He leaned over her, and she pulled him down beside her.

Their lips met, but her hands were already moving, tugging up his tunic, tossing it to the floor. She rolled to the top and pressed her face against his chest. Haydan felt his heart thrum against her ear. She remained there for a moment, and then, turning, she kissed his heartbeat before sliding down the midline of his body. He trembled beneath her, awed by her power.

Her hands freed his belt and plaid. He felt it give way and reached for her garments, but she captured his hands. Kissing each one, she nudged them aside, then with agonizing slowness, she undressed herself.

She seemed to shine in the darkness, like a beacon in the blackest night. He slid his hands about her waist, worshipping her, urging her closer as she leaned over him, her nipples caressed his chest. Her bottom lapped his erection, and then, like a goddess of yore, she welcomed him inside.

He sucked in his breath and pressed into her. Her eyes fell closed and she moved against him. There was no delay this time. No thought of waiting, for they needed more than they could say with words, and so they strove to please and be pleased, to touch and caress and give until they were poised on the edge of relief.

She leaned over him, her breasts like fire against his chest as she increased her pace. 'Twas all he could do to await her pleasure, to see her fall over the edge of desire before he lifted her from him and found his own aching release.

"That
is his lady?" asked Roderic.

Haydan turned a glare toward his half-sister's husband. The great hall was crowded with the noble families of Scotland. Haydan's own kinsmen, the MacGowans and the Forbeses, were gathered around him like bad apples, and there was none more likely to cause trouble than Roderic the Rogue.

"She is not my lady," Haydan said, but Shona had already leaned across the table to speak to her father.

"They are planning a performance together," she said.

Haydan gritted his teeth. The noise level had risen with the hour. 'Twas late now and loud, and most of the young folk had been ushered to bed.

Beyond the towering windows, the night was dark, but inside, a hundred candles blazed. Upon the center dais, not far from James and his multiple bodyguards, an elderly bard sang a melancholy ballad.

Tremayne listened with tears in his rheumy eyes. Lord Drummond pressed closer to Lady Fayette. MacKinnon watched. The Earl of Hogshead drank himself into a good-natured stupor.

And Catriona...

She was there, not far from the king's side.

Haydan's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her, but he forced his gaze away.

"A performance?" Roderic asked.

"Aye. On horseback, I am told," Shona added.

"Horseback?" Flanna asked. Though she was Haydan's half-sister, she had raised him as a son. Seated beside her husband, the lady flame of the MacGowans looked like an auburn-haired queen. 'Twas a well-known fact that her clan would have only half their power and wealth were it not for her own steeds. "I thought she was a tumbler."