Highland Hellcat (2010) (16 page)

He laughed at her, and even his eyes sparkled with merriment. “Spoken like the hellcat I labeled ye.”

She snarled at him but ducked beneath his arm, because she was starving and it was an excuse to have others around them. But the man’s amusement echoed in the hallway, tempting her to turn around and take issues with him again.

Fine, let him call her a hellcat, for it was better than being so easy to bend.

***

Connor left with his captains the moment she finished eating. Her pride was bruised by the demonstration of his power over her. She bristled beneath the glances that moved over her the entire meal, tasting little of the fare placed in front of her.

“Come along, mistress. We’ve plenty to keep every set of hands full.”

Maura seemed intent on keeping her close, but when Brina turned to look in the opposite direction of the head of house, she was met with the diligent stares of the retainers Connor had set to watch her. They nodded at her respectfully but never looked away.

“Something to do would be appreciated.”

“That we have in abundance, thanks to this early snow.”

Maura led her to the kitchens, and they were in an uproar. Women worked at every available space. The hooks used to hang pots over the fire were all spouting more than one pot. More kettles with long legs were set in the coals themselves, and the reason was clear.

All around, there were piles of late-harvest fruits and vegetables. Squashes and pumpkins filled the hallways, while younger boys brought sacks full of apples and other late-autumn fruits that they also had nowhere to put except in the hallways. The cook looked overwhelmed by the amount of food waiting to be processed before it rotted. An early snow could very easily translate into empty storerooms before spring arrived with a new crop.

The cook used a rag to wipe sweat off her brow while she looked at Brina to see if the laird’s bride could offer any wisdom that might help.

Well, she knew how to work, and that was for certain.

Brina looked at the lads who were about to dump their apples into a corner that was already full.

“Not there. There must be chambers in this castle that can be used for some of this until we have a chance to preserve it. Store them in the hall, away from the hearths.”

Many of the women nodded, while the cook offered her a pleased look. Brina hung the delicate silk veil on a peg and took up a plain linen square of fabric that she tucked about her head before joining the frantic effort to stew and process all the food. Hours flew by, and before she realized it, the sun was setting and the church bell had begun to ring again. She had never sat down to eat a midday meal but had snacked on the smaller choppings that were on the table. No one else had left the kitchens either, but they did now, gratefully tugging off their soiled aprons and heading toward the doorways, eager to have something else to do.

There was suddenly quiet when there had been none the entire day long. Brina simply closed her eyes and drew a deep sigh, but Connor’s face appeared in the space that having everyone leave opened up in her mind. She’d avoided thinking of the man for hours, but now every sensation he’d unleashed on her that morning returned to stoke the fire that had burned so uncontrollably inside her beneath his touch.

Oh… bugger it all!

***

Robert Chattan, laird of the clan Chattan, was closer to a true rage than he could ever recall. In his entire life, he had never been so angry.

Cory stood firmly in place, facing his laird after delivering the news that more snow was falling.

The bells on his outer walls began to ring, drawing another curse from his lips.

“What arrives now to vex me?”

One of the men closer to the door looked out and came across the floor at a run to answer his laird.

“Looks to be Laird Cameron. The snow must have caught the man on the road.”

“The snow seems to have caught us all with our arses hanging out in the breeze.”

He turned around and caught his remaining daughters in his sights. They sat near the large hearth that warmed the great hall, both of them looking bored nearly to death, but that did not gain either of them any mercy from him. They’d sit there until their feet fell off from lack of use if it meant he might be sure what they were about.

“Well, this is a right cheerful gathering.”

Quinton Cameron was a dark Highlander. The man drew his blood from the Saxon more than the Norman, for his hair was black and thick, and he even kept a beard, one that he did not allow to grow long. But his eyes were blue, hinting at his Celtic blood.

“Cameron, my friend, ye are welcome. Even if my home is nae so cheerful a place at the moment, it is better than the snow.”

“It was nae the snow that drove me in, my friend.”

Robert found himself chuckling in spite of his dark mood. “I’d be disappointed to hear it was so. According to the gossips, ye are on yer way to becoming a legend with all the things ye mange to get involved with. It would spoil my image of ye to hear ye run inside because of a bit of snow.”

“Well, I am nae sure I am no’ happy to be warm, man.” Quinton Cameron took the mug of ale that Deirdre offered him, giving her a wink, which she frowned at. He watched her return to her seat near her sister and the older women presiding over them both.

“I see it’s true, then.” Quinton Cameron spoke plainly, without any pity for his host’s pride.

Robert sank back against the chair, feeling older than his years. “Aye, and worse, for now I’ve lost me youngest to Lindsey. The man took her right out of me own hands and swears he’ll have her to wife now that Deirdre is no longer pure.”

Quinton stopped with his mug only halfway to his lips. “Connor Lindsey took a girl promised to the church?”

“Aye, and the shame of it is, I am to blame, for I failed him by no’ being able to control my eldest daughter.”

Quinton watched Deirdre for a long moment while he drew a long sip from the mug she’d given him before turning her back on him. “I disagree, Robert. Melor is every inch a Douglas. The man knows how to deceive well and good. Ye should nae blame yer daughter for it.”

“I suppose I’ll take yer word on Melor Douglas since ye spend more time at court than I do, but ye are nae a father, and I’ll tell ye straight that I expect better from my children. Ye will too someday when ye’re finished watching the shadows at court and take yerself a wife who keeps yer home warm enough to make ye enjoy being there with her.”

Quinton Cameron shrugged. “The king needs his loyal lairds near him these days.”

There was dark meaning in his words that Robert didn’t bother to comment on. The court was a place of intrigue and danger that he had no liking for. Give him a battle, where he might look his enemy in the eye, instead of a place where a man shook yer hand but dumped poison in yer drink that same day.

“I wish the king were more than a lad, for he could solve this issue between me and Lindsey without the bloodshed that I see as my only recourse.”

Quinton frowned. “Ye do nae mean to march on Lindsey? Ye did promise him one of yer daughters.”

Robert glared at Quinton. “I’m an old man, Cameron, and when ye get to my age, ye begin to have more of a care for just how the Lord is going to receive ye when ye arrive. I promised Brina to the church.”

“But ye promised Connor Lindsey an alliance through marriage to one of yer daughters, and I’ll tell ye straight that I call the man friend. He passed up others in favor of his agreement with ye.”

Robert wasn’t intimidated. Many men would be, for the Camerons were a fierce lot. It was wise not to anger them if you could avoid it.

“That does nae make it right to steal my Brina. She’s a good lass, the only one who has given me the proper respect due her sire, and I’d be a poor father to sit here drinking me ale while she’s imprisoned. Even if Lindsey did ask for her, I told him no, and I have to keep my word.”

“Ye told him no?”

Robert Chattan nodded. “Aye, I did, because I told ye, Quinton Cameron, I’m too old to be offending the Lord by sending him a daughter who will nae serve his church honestly. Lindsey wanted me to exchange the pair of them and send Deirdre on to the abbey because he would no’ suffer the doubt that she would nae be true to him.”

“That’s a reasonable solution, man.” Quinton lowered his voice so that his words remained between them. “One that will keep blood from flowing. Scotland needs her clans no’ bickering between each other, or we’ll find England invading us while we’re busy trying to kill one another.”

“Ye think I should send Deirdre to the church, then?”

Quinton took another long look at Deirdre Chattan. He was no stranger to women who had charms, and there was no mistaking that Deirdre knew how to use her body and enjoyed it. As far as he was concerned, that was not necessarily a shame, even if the church preached against it, but one woman couldn’t be allowed to start fighting between the Chattan and Lindsey.

“I say send her dowry to the church, and if she wishes to take her position there, let her worry about gaining forgiveness.”

“And if she will nae go?”

Cameron frowned. “She’ll remain here, maybe wed a man who will have her with no dowry.”

“That would only satisfy the church if Deirdre came with the dowry that was promised to Lindsey. Brina is my third daughter and comes with less. That means Lindsey would have to agree to having what comes with her and no’ what we agreed upon. The man is already angry. I believe hearing that will turn him toward being enraged.”

Quinton Cameron leaned forward. “That’s an interesting point, but I believe Connor would have to accept yer terms, since he stole Brina. I believe I’ll ask him for ye.”

Robert Chattan frowned and shook his head. “I didna say those were me terms, and now my middle daughter claims she has a true calling. This house has gone mad.”

“Young Kaie wishes to be a nun rather than wed Roan?”

“Aye,” Robert growled. “Yet another problem to face, for the McLeod will likely no’ take it any better than the Lindsey did that the daughter they have been promised is discontented with her lot. If I send Kaie to the church, I doubt Roan McLeod will be pleased to have Deirdre.”

Quinton stroked the side of his beard while he considered the situation. “Roan will nae be pleased, and that’s a fact.”

Robert snorted, but Quinton held up a hand. “What of Erlina?”

Robert Chattan’s face turned red. “Her hellion of a mother has taken her off to Monroe land and will nae even pen a single sentence to me. That is no answer.”

“Having another daughter would be a very fine solution to this quarrel.”

Robert Chattan sat forward and slapped the tabletop. “Erlina is my bastard.”

“So wed her mother and offer her to Roan.”

“I’d have to have her taken into church bound and gagged, for the woman swears she’ll never marry.” Robert shook his head. “And the Monroe give her shelter, so enough said on that matter. Kaie will wed Roan McLeod, and I will march on Lindsey land just as soon as the weather clears enough.”

Quinton held up a hand. “I’ll ride up there first and see if peace might be restored.”

“I did nae give the man permission to wed me daughter; the only way peace can be made is if he returns Brina the way he took her. If ye want to tell him that, ye may.”

Quinton Cameron stood up.

“If it keeps the pair of ye from drawing steel on one another, it’s worth the ride through the snow. I told ye I call the man friend, so it would be better if I rode to his gate instead of ye.”

Robert was silent a long moment. “Yer point about the English is well made. I’ll listen to ye, even if part of me wants to march up there and have it out with Lindsey for no’ respecting my decision on the matter of which one of me daughters he might have to wife.”

Quinton hid his true emotions behind a practiced facade; he was experienced in the art of maintaining an expression no one might see past. That was how a man stayed among the living at court. He forced himself to remain in place while he itched to ride out to Lindsey land immediately, but arriving dead tired would not be in his best interest. He wanted to keep both the Chattan and Lindsey laird for friends, and he wasn’t jesting about needing the Highlanders to remain at peace or risk invasion from England.

The English had a young king who was now of age to rule, and he favored peace with France. That would free up the English armies to invade Scotland, since James II was only a boy. The Highlands needed to remain united, or there would be no Scotland left. There was also Roan McLeod to consider too, for the man would not be happy to discover a woman in his bed who longed for the life of a nun. That was the sort of thing that a good friend passed along before the wedding sheets were pulled back and a man discovered himself wed to a woman who would always shun him.

So he’d ride to Lindsey land and make sure there was no blood spilled, or he’d take Brina Chattan away from Connor himself, and he’d make sure news of young Kaie’s true calling made its way to Roan.

***

Brina paused at the doorway to the tower. From her vantage point, she could see that everyone was already inside the church; even the two retainers set to watch her stood in the doorway with their attention on the service inside. Something drew her attention from behind the tower, and she couldn’t quite decide what it was.

A sound that was being carried over the curtain wall on the evening wind. The sky was crimson as the sun set, and the wind blew bitterly cold. She pulled a cloak off a peg near the doorway and gathered the thick fabric around her. The garment was too long and obviously made for men who had to venture up onto the walls at night to keep watch.

She held the fabric up in front of her and began climbing the steep steps cut into the wall that faced the high ground behind the tower. As she climbed, she realized that these walls were but protection for the cannons that were set into bunkers every ten feet along the back of the fortress. It was no longer a curtain wall meant to keep invaders from scaling it, because the land dropped away here and no army might attack from this direction. That wasn’t to say that the walls were not thick and built with keeping the castle secured in mind; it was just that they cut away at sharp angles so that the cannon might be aimed in a full half circle out and over the edge of the cliff.