Highland Hellcat (2010) (25 page)

***

The window shutters were still open, and Brina could see the faint glow of dawn illuminating them when she lifted her eyelids. Maybe it was the fact that they had retired so early last night or the sheer abundance of emotions that had coursed through her, but she was wide awake now at the very first hint of day. Her mind was fully alert, beginning to tumble the things that she wanted to do, and she felt eager to begin, too much so to remain in bed.

“Where are ye going so early, Brina?”

Connor’s voice was slurred as he turned to eye her with sleep still clouding his vision.

“I never went to confession yesterday.”

He groaned. “Aye, I suppose we should get to that.” His lips rose into a lazy smile that was not repentant but satisfied instead.

She pressed a hand flat in the center of his bare chest. “You went yesterday.”

The bed shifted as he moved, all signs of sleep vanishing from his expression. What remained was something very serious, and it touched her heart.

“I want to wed ye, Brina, no’ simply have the world be told that ye are my wife. So I will join ye so that we may be truthful.”

“With your friend Quinton Cameron here to lend his name to it, there would nae be many who would question whether we truly took vows or no’.”

In spite of the fact that she’d thought it, hearing it aloud made her shiver. It would be so simple to bend her.

A warm hand smoothed over her shoulder, taking the chill away. She looked into his eyes to find them full of determination but lacking the glare of superiority that would have seen him treating her as his chattel. That was the honor that she had witnessed in him yesterday, that facet of his personality that made it impossible for her to resist him.

“Honor is nae something that I talk about but fail to hold myself to.”

“I’ve noticed that.”

She angled her head down and pressed a soft kiss against his hand.

“I’m going to confession now.” She slid out from beneath the covers, shivering in the early-morning air. There was no sound from behind her, and that drew her attention back toward the bed. Connor still lay there, the bedding slid down to his waist to expose his bare chest.

The room suddenly filled with the sound of his amusement. “Careful, lass, yer expression is nae one of repentance, but of contemplation of more sinning.” He grasped the edge of the coverlet aside, exposing his member and the fact that it was thick and hard.

“Come back here.”

“But…”

Her voice was husky already, her body favoring his invitation over the penance that would be waiting for her once she reached the church.

“Come back to this bed and leave yer confessing until ye have a nice long tale of sin to entertain the priest with.”

“Connor Lindsey! That is unchristian of you to say.”

He grinned, patting the surface of the bed. “It is the truth, one ye can see plainly, for I notice that yer gaze keeps traveling to my cock. What’s more in line with the teaching of the church than speaking only what is truth?”

“It’s wicked.”

His hand clasped his erection, and her mouth went dry. She had already turned to face him, and her nipples drew into tighter points that had nothing to do with the morning chill.

“It is honest.” His hand worked up and down his length, drawing her a single step closer to him. “Come here, Brina. Lie with me instead of doing what ye have been told ye should. Do what ye want to instead of what everyone around ye tells ye to. For this moment, no one else matters but the pair of us. Let us enjoy that, for the day will arrive soon enough with its demands. Come here and tell me what ye would have of me.”

His words were empowering. She felt free for the first time in her life, her shoulders lacking the weight of responsibility. There was nothing but the man in front of her and her desire to share the hour of predawn with him. Later the sun would rise, and along with it, the struggle to survive and maintain balance between their clans and the church would return.

But for that moment, she walked back to him, her bare feet making soft sounds against the floor before she climbed back up into the bed. His body was warm and welcoming, the thick coverlet falling back over her as he slid his arms around her and locked her into an embrace that shut everything out except for the pleasure that their bodies produced when they touched.

Nothing else mattered.

***

Connor began snoring.

Brina raised her head, her own mind muddled by sleep, which made it hard to decide what the soft sound was. She looked at her partner and heard the soft sound once again.

Her lover slept deeply, and she realized that he was finally at peace with having stolen her. For all his confidence, he had not cared for the way that he had brought her to his home.

He hadn’t told her that, not with words, but she felt it in the way his body was so relaxed with dawn brightening the room. Highlanders rarely slept past first light, but she could hear him snoring as she slid from the bed once more. With a careful hand, she closed the bed curtains.

Brina shrugged into her underrobe and overrobe. She brushed out her hair and quickly braided it, listening for Maura as she hurried through dressing. Putting her boots on felt as though it took forever, and the light seemed to grow brighter every second. She left the shutters open because closing them would no doubt make enough noise to disturb Connor.

There was a bubble of happiness sitting inside her chest. It made her giddy in a fashion she had never felt before. Making sure that her lover might sleep seemed to matter a great deal, and she smiled as she slipped out of the chamber and pressed the door shut with only a tiny sound.

Maura was halfway up the stairs, with her maids in tow.

“Mistress?”

“I’m off to confession.”

Maura frowned, looking behind her. “Ye need yer escort, mistress.”

Brina nodded and watched the head of house’s eyebrows raise.

“Tell them that I’ve gone to church, for I expect a stiff penance for missing yesterday, and I want to begin straightaway so that I can take my vows once the laird is ready.”

Maura smiled, the first genuine one that Brina had seen on her face.

“Well then, I’ll no’ stand here yapping with ye, mistress. Go on and settle yer accounts with the priest.”

Brina passed her and the maids, her pace quick and fueled by her excitement.

She was going to wed Connor Lindsey, and that was the truth. Fate had spoken, and she was no more fit to serve the church as a bride of Christ than Deirdre was. So she would take the happiness that had begun to flow through her and be grateful for it.

Life was too uncertain to argue with.

***

The priest did indeed set her to a stiff penance. Brina finally stood up and felt her knees protest how long she had been on them. But her feet transmitted just how cold the stone floor still was because she was without shoes or even stockings.

The priest had taken her boots to teach her the value of humility. That wasn’t so uncommon for a bride. There were still many men who insisted that their future wives wed them in their underrobes to show the proper amount of respect for the fact that the husband owned everything, right down to the clothing she wore.

Being forced to be barefoot wasn’t teaching her anything but a resentment of the men who thought women were chattel.

When she turned around and discovered the priest watching her, Brina bit her lip to maintain her composure. She lowered herself before walking toward one of the back entrances to the church, where the silver bowls and chalices were stored. She had chores to do now that her prayers were concluded. Every soul owed the church hours of labor. That was how the great cathedrals and abbeys were raised and decorated with such fine carvings and statues.

She picked up a cloth and began to rub it over a silver plate that was dull from use. It was still very early, but there were other silver dishes waiting on the table for others who came to confess their passion to the clergy. Her fingers were stiff from being in one position too long as well, but the polishing soon warmed them up. There was no comfort for her feet except to rub them against one another and twist them up into her skirts.

Beyond the open doorway, she heard the outer gates rising and the faint stirrings of more of the castle’s inhabitants. There were steps in the sanctuary, telling her that she was no longer alone in her quest to gain the church’s approval so that she might get on with the rest of the day. She looked down at the plate, rubbing harder at a persistent dark smudge.

A pain shot through her skull that was so blinding, she never realized that it was going to rob her of her consciousness. Her mind simply went black, every thought ceasing along with it.

She sank down into an oblivion that was suffocating, and the only thing she managed to think was that maybe she was dead.

***

“Ye hit her too hard.”

“As if ye have any more practice in the striking of women that ye can lecture me on the manner in which it should be done.”

There was a hard grunt from one of the Cameron retainers before he conceded the point. He allowed Brina to lie against him, her body limp, but he listened to her breathing to make certain that she was in fact senseless and not just trying to dupe them. Her breathing remained even and slow, and he nodded once again.

“Let’s finish this bit of business. I’ve no desire to be caught doing this deed.”

“On that we agree.” The other retainer draped a long cloak over her shoulders. The garment was made for a full-size man, and it covered the lass completely, even hiding the hem of her robes.

That was exactly what they were aiming to do—disguise the lass and smuggle her out of the castle. It was a brazen plan, but since she had risen so early, it was actually achievable.

He raised the hood and pulled down a length of leather that had been sewn to the front of the fabric to tie about the neck clasp. The lace was a hasty addition that would keep the hood from falling down to reveal the fact that they were stealing the Chattan lass.

Quinton Cameron was waiting when his men brought his prize out of the back of the church. The last hour had seemed almost endless while he had waited for the gates to rise. There was still no sign of Connor, and for that he was both grateful and resentful.

He didn’t care for the plan that he was enacting, but he couldn’t think of another way to achieve true peace among the Highland clans.

That idea was his driving force.

One of his men had Brina riding behind him, and his other men made sure that the cloak was hanging down to cover every bit of her.

“Let’s be on our way, lads.”

Quinton looked toward the gate and the Lindsey men guarding it. They checked both incoming and outgoing parties. Connor was a wise man who didn’t take any chances with the security of his castle.

Quinton felt his men close around him as they approached the gate, but he pulled up on the reins to face the retainers without any hesitation.

“Morning, lads, I’m sorry to be quitting this fine place.”

His men began to file through the gate, none of them stopping, but they kept their pace slow.

“Yer laird knows a thing or two about welcoming a guest. We’ll be back soon, with a bit of luck.”

The retainers grinned, enjoying hearing that their laird had impressed another.

“Having the Camerons here is a good thing.”

The retainers guarding the gate suddenly looked past Quinton toward the horse that was burdened with two riders. One was slumped against the man sitting tall in the front, but there was no saddle on the animal so that they might both fit. Instead the horse behind them carried the second saddle.

“What goes wrong with that man?” The Lindsey retainer stepped back, a hint of concern appearing on his face. Even in winter, the plague was still something that no wise man took any chances with.

“Just a little too much Lindsey hospitality.”

The Lindsey retainer stepped up again, but the frown remained on his face.

“That’s a slip of a lad.”

Quinton laughed. “Aye, beardless too, which explains why a bit of ale put the lad down. He’s my brother’s boy and a wee bit too tender still, but he’s family, and someone has to show him the way of being a man.” Quinton caught the retainer’s eye and offered him a shrug. “That’s no’ something a lad needs his sire about to witness.”

The Lindsey retainer grinned and nodded. “Well, best of luck with the boy.”

“Well, it will be the lad who needs luck, for I’ve no time to be nursing him.”

Quinton Cameron lifted one hand, and there was a surge of leather and horses through the open gate. He joined their ranks while the Lindsey retainers watched them ride forth into the rising sun. The landscape was covered in snow, which no doubt accounted for the speed that the Cameron retainers set. They pushed their horses and lowered their heads so that they might cover more ground even more quickly.

The Lindseys who had been waiting to cross into the castle or out of it stepped back into the road now that the mounted men were gone. Carts rolled past as the trading of goods began just as it did every day except the Sabbath.

***

Connor listened to the priest, but he was more interested in seeing Brina. There was no sight of her, but his gaze fell on her boots sitting near the base of the front pew. He didn’t care for knowing that she was barefoot with snow on the ground, but he also couldn’t help but be pleased that she was doing her penance without running to him to beg for leniency.

There was more than one laird who had to suffer a brat for a wife when his contracted bride arrived full of vanity and the idea that her comfort was owed to her simply because of who her parents were. The sort who would cry for pudding when there was barely enough bread during the last weeks of winter.

Brina was nothing like that. Even if her stubbornness had nearly driven him insane, he could still admire it. He made his way from the sanctuary, forcing himself to allow her to finish what she had set out to do.

The stamp of horses’ hooves against the wooden bridge that led out of Birch Stone drew his attention. He climbed the steps in front of the tower to look through the inner gate toward the outer one. A flurry of Cameron plaid was streaming out of the castle, the horses moving fast.