Highland Promise (33 page)

        "Can you saddle her please?"

        The stable master scratched his head skeptically. "Well now, I do not think—"

        "I learned how to ride many years ago. I would like to seat her for a short time while she is in the paddock so I can get used to her before we leave."

        "Seeing as you say you can ride, I guess there is no harm." He gave her a stern look. "As long as you stay in the pen."

        Faith smiled. "I promise I shall stay inside the ring."

~ * ~

        He woke up fighting.

        His galloping heart thundered in his ears. A crushing weight constricted his chest. Cold sweat burst from his every pore.

        Brendan sprang bolt upright, struggling for breath. Unaccountable terror gripped every fiber of his being.

        Faith's face, masked with fear, flashed before his mind's eye. He glanced to where she should lay beside him, but found only empty bedding.

        Panic grew stronger. Threatened to suffocate him. Without a doubt, he knew Faith was consumed with fear and needed him to save her.

        Brendan leapt from the bed, grabbed his sword, and dashed from the chamber, bellowing Faith's name. He bound down the stairs and into the hall. His men stood by a long table with a few Ranalds and gaped at him.

        "Where is she?" Brendan demanded of the room at large.

        "Who?" Luthias asked, his voice choked.

        "Lady Sutherland. She needs me."

        "'Tis good to see you're prepared for her," Michael muttered.

        Luthias rammed an elbow in Michael's side, eliciting a grunt.

        Michael grinned and shrugged. "Well, he did bring his...sword."

        Roland gave the younger warrior an exasperated look then faced his laird. "We thought her still with you."

        "She has not been to the hall," Tormey added.

        "Saint Andrew, I must find her." The panicked feeling escalated. Brendan jerked his fingers through his hair.

        "She was here, Laird Sutherland," Moreen said, coming from behind the screen. She glanced his way, stopped in her tracks, and turned beet-red. "Said she was going to the stables."

        Brendan hurried out the rear door. His men burst into laughter behind him. He didn't have time to ponder the cause of their mirth. His heart pounded so hard now, it threatened to jump from his throat. He ran all the way to the stables to determine the threat to his wife and eliminate it.

        The sight that greeted him stunned him to a halt. Faith sat astride the dapple mare inside the paddock. Her face was white as a new lamb's fleece, and her features were drawn with terror—the very mask of fear he had envisioned. Delicate hands clenched the pommel, and cloudy blue eyes fastened on the mare's ears. Her entire body threatened to shake her from the saddle. Old Auggie stood at the mare's head, holding the halter and crooning words of praise, though whether he spoke to the horse or Faith, Brendan couldn't tell.

        He closed his eyes and took in a few gulping breaths. The panic wasn't subsiding.

        He couldn't imagine what inspired her to mount the beast, but he wanted her off the damn horse now. Hell, he never wanted her to experience such terror again as long as she lived. His own heart couldn't handle the stress.

        Footfalls behind him heralded the arrival of his men.

        "You see," Michael boasted. "I told you our Lady Sutherland was brave."

        "Aye," Roland agreed. "She is an honor to Clan Sutherland."

        Brendan dropped his sword and approached Faith, taking care not to startle the mare into movement that might intensify his wife's fear.

        "Good morn to you, Auggie," he said casually. "I see my wife is out for an early ride."

        Auggie cast him a sardonic look, then his eyes widened. The old stable master seemed to recollect himself, and a grin split his face. "Aye, Laird Sutherland. When I saw how afrighted she be, I wanted her down, but your lady said she was staying put until her fear left. Seeing as she be a Sutherland, I figured she must be hardheaded and it would take another Sutherland to change her mind."

        Brendan nodded and moved to the mare's side. "Faith."

        Caught in the hold of her terrorized trance, she did not respond.

        Brendan grasped her by the waist and pulled her from the horse. She gasped, and her gaze met his. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she locked her arms around his neck and sobbed against his neck.

        He held her close, her feet dangling. He waited for her storm to calm. In a flash, his heart rate eased. The panic left. What had caused him to feel

her terror so intensely?

        He decided love must be at the root of this evil. No wonder warriors who loved lost their edge. They had to fight female fears and enemies at the same time. He would rather just have a damn headache.

        She sniffed and rubbed her sleeve against her wet cheek. "I am sorry, Brendan."

        "Why did you get on the horse?"

        She gazed up at him through contrite cloudy-blue eyes. "I wanted to ride her home, so you would be proud of me." She bowed her head into his neck. "But I am still a coward."

        "Faith, you are one of the bravest women I've ever met, and I am already proud of you."

        "But I am still afraid of horses," she whispered as if it were a great sin.

        "Yet tried to ride one. Only a brave woman would face such a fear." He held her tight, remembering the terror that woke him. Damn it, he never wanted to wake like that again. "You are never to mount a horse without me again, do you understand?"

        "You will never have to repeat that order."

        He lowered her until her feet rested on the ground, then he cupped her cheeks. "You do not have to prove your bravery to me. I knew you to be a woman of valor the moment we met."

        She bowed her head, then raised astonished eyes to his. Her face flushed crimson, and she threw her arms back around him. He slipped his arms around her and wondered what caused this reaction.

        "Brendan, I know that your customs are...different than I am used to, but—" She shook her head and didn't go on.

        "What do you wish to say?" he asked gently, inhaling her sweet scent and kissing her temple.

        "I was wondering..." she mumbled against his neck. "Do you often go about like this?"

        "Like what?"

        "You know I consider the plaid decadent, but it does at least cover some parts. I know you ordered me to wear one, and I am trying to master the nuisance it presents. But I warn you, if you order me to go about like you are now, we will have a rather loud chat, because I shall not do it."

        His men burst into laughter, and he realized the reason for all the strange looks he had received and their earlier mirth. He had gone after his wife buck-naked.

        Taking the plaid from Faith's shoulders, he draped it around his hips and slipped an arm around her waist. As he guided her past his men, he glowered at the jocular bunch. They only laughed harder.

        "Go home," he ordered. "My wife and I will follow later." 

~ * ~

        Her husband might be trained to perfection more easily than she anticipated. After returning to their chamber, Brendan treated her to a most thorough and pleasurable ravaging. Then he stood patiently beside her as she exchanged tearful farewells with Alera. He even promised to return her to her sister's side for the birthing in the spring.

        He lifted her onto his mount with greatest care. Then he held her against him as if she were a precious possession. They left the Ranald holding and headed north through savage woodlands and rocky terrain.

        The overcast sky strengthened the nip in the air. Faith huddled close to his warmth. Throughout their journey, Brendan pointed out various landmarks between Duncan's land and his. He dropped tender kisses on her head and neck while his strong hands stroked warmth into her body. She couldn't help the blissful sighs that slipped between her lips.

        After a few hours, he stopped in a small clearing near a craggy ledge so she could have a moment of privacy. With a light heart, she slipped behind some trees, deciding she had married a good man. She might just be able to change his thinking and make him love her after all.

        As she returned to his side, Brendan stood with his feet braced and hands on hips, gazing over the ledge to a valley below. He looked like master of this dominion—a force to be reckoned with and able to protect his own. A rush of pride swept through her that he was hers.

        It occurred to her that little by little, she was gaining confidence in appearing as her true self. Apparently not every man of her acquaintance would be damned due to her. She offered a silent prayer of thanksgiving to her Maker for sending Brendan into her life and giving her freedom from her self-built prison.

        She threaded an arm through his, hugging him to her chest, and followed his line of vision. She had never seen so many mountains in her life. Brendan called them hills, but she knew a mountain when she saw one, and these were mountains. The landscape held a bleak wildness that worsened the farther north they traveled.

        A shudder rippled through her. Brendan turned her to face him, drew her into his embrace, and kissed her brow. "Cold?"

        "Aye." His male scent enveloped her, and his body heat warmed her heart. "'Twas so colorful at the Ranald holding, but autumn has left this land. Are all the Highlands this far north so...savage and desolate?"

        "Winter is coming." His hands stroked her back with firm caresses. "When spring arrives, you will think this very spot the middle of faerie land."

        "It will have to be quite a transformation for me to think that." She slipped her arms around him and returned the massage. His powerful hands made her feel downright lustful. Lord, but her passions stirred fast. He had turned her into a wanton.

        "How did you and Alera become so close that you call each other sister and you revealed your secret to her?"

        "Where did that question come from?"

        "I am curious." He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "A great distance separates your fathers' lands."

        Her heart raced from his tender gesture. She had to force herself to focus on their conversation. "We met some time ago at court, but did not truly know each other until about four years ago. Alera's mother had died. Her father soon became ill with the same symptoms. King Henry sent Baron Arundrydge to the Kingdom of Arturia in the Roman Provinces. There is one there who knew how to heal him. Alera accompanied her father, and King Henry sent me as her companion."

        "Is that when you confided in her about your disguise?" His husky burr shivered down her spine.

        Faith shook her head and tried to suppress her sinful urges lest he discover her wayward desires and gloat. "I never intended for her to find out. I thought the journey an ideal time to join a convent, but my plan to escape into the darkness met with disaster."

        "What disaster?" He nibbled on her ear.

        She tried to pull back, but her body wouldn't respond. Instead, her head tilted to ease his access. Mayhap she could take his mind off this embarrassing subject by kissing it right out of his head. "I would rather not say. Will you kiss me now please?"

        "Tell me," he demanded as his hands stopped their caresses.

        He could be downright exasperating even if he did have potential. "If you must know, I got lost in the dark and tumbled down a hill into a cesspit near a shambles. The princess had seen me leave. She woke Medea and Alera. The three of them followed me. They couldn't decide if they wanted to scold me or laugh, so they did both. The princess dunked me in a river to get rid of the worst of the stench. My padding nearly drowned me from its weight. I had to take it off or die. So they learned of my disguise. Does it make you happy to know this?"

        "I will be sure to point out the refuse grounds so another such disaster does not befall you." He burst into laughter.

        "Do not laugh at me, you lout. You are more likely to push me into sewage than save me from it."

        He pulled her back into his arms and kissed her mouth. "I am persuaded 'twas your angel guardian who did the pushing to save you for me."

        "To think I even had a few nice thoughts about you today." She tried to push away again. He wouldn't let go. She sighed and gave up the battle. Her heart galloped from his kiss, and she rather liked having him hold her. "How much longer before we reach your land?"

        "We have been on my land for a good while."

        She snapped up her head to gape. "We are home then?"

        "We should reach the clan soon. 'Tis but a short distance to our

dwelling." He cocked his head and grinned. "Would you like to walk the rest of the way?"

        Relief shimmied through her at that longed-for question. "I would love to walk."

        He whistled a command to his horse to go home. The black beast shot away from them. He drew her against him and guided her toward a forest trail. Her stomach fluttered as his male scent aroused her. She slipped an arm around his waist and absently massaged tiny circles on his back. Lord, she wished it wasn't daylight.

        "Feeling brazen?" he asked in a sexy voice that spurred her lust.

        Her cheeks burned at the tawdry question, but she decided honesty between husband and wife was a requirement. "I always feel brazen when I am near you."

        He pulled her around to face him as they entered the woods. "Then I think we should do something no decent people would do during the day."

        "Again?" The man must be insatiable. "But we just—"

        "Aye, again." He kissed her neck.

        "Here?" She tilted her head as a fiery chill tingled to her toes.

        "Here is as good as anywhere." He seized her mouth in a molten kiss, thrusting his tongue inside to mate with hers.