Highlander's Prize (24 page)

He headed for the yard, leaving Shaw confused. “What did he mean by that?”

The other captains shrugged before following their laird.

***

Faolan Chisholms was furious.

He’d brought his retainers and Broen found himself facing a force that looked ready to wage war.

The damned country was dissolving into chaos. Clan was pitted against clan because their king wasn’t strong enough to lead. Broen raised his hand, palm forward to indicate a truce, so he and Faolan might talk. It took a moment before his fellow laird mimicked the gesture and rode forward.

“Let’s hope yer luck holds,” Shaw muttered. “I admit I did a few things when we returned from smoothing things over with the Grants that I’ve nae received absolution for.”

“It’s me the man wants to run through. I believe yer soul is safe, at least until ye go seeking that absolution.”

His man tugged on the corner of his bonnet before Broen let his stallion have his freedom.

“Ye’re a bloody poor excuse for a friend, Broen MacNicols,” Faolan snarled.

Broen leaned over the neck of his stallion and shot Faolan a sharp look. “I believe I said the same thing to ye when ye claimed me captive and planned to present her to our uncle when ye did none of the fetching.”

Faolan snorted. “I had a fine reason. One I’d expect ye to understand. Our friendship is longer than most.”

“But we forgot that when it came to the matter of fair Daphne MacLeod. Look at ye, man, ye’re ready to challenge me while reminding me how long we’ve been friends, and I was doing the same before she was taken from us. But I’ve had to admit recently that I was fighting over her worth and not the lass herself,” Broen muttered. Faolan opened his mouth but shut it without making his argument. The need to disagree flickered in his eyes but he resisted it and drew in a deep breath before replying.

“Ye’re correct. I’ve nae truly thought about it but I was ready to strangle ye over her.” His expression tightened. “I still am.”

“I’m ashamed to look back at the way we were behaving,” Broen responded.

Faolan’s captains were getting restless, easing forward to protect their laird as the night wind carried their raised voices to where the Chisholms retainers waited. Broen’s men were looking no more at ease. The day had worn everyone’s nerves raw.

“Ye rode all the way up here to carry on the fight. Do ye have tender feelings for her or just for her dowry?”

Faolan shook his head. “A fair-enough question. Ye rubbed me temper, and no mistake. Why have ye become so content with the situation? Ye left for England intent on vengeance, as I recall.”

“Aye, but I also went to prevent a threat of a bloody feud.”

Faolan’s eyes narrowed. “Ye’ve gone soft for that York bastard.”

“Her name is Clarrisa,” he snapped. “And I am no’ soft for her.”

“Then why the sudden insight into our sins over Daphne?” Faolan challenged.

“All right, Clarrisa is responsible for some of me change in thinking, but I’ve only known the woman a short time. Do nae be casting any ideas at me that include affection for her.”

Faolan opened his mouth, but Broen cut him off. “No’ just yet, man. I’m no’ adjusting to knowing a woman can twist me feelings.”

“All right, no’ now,” Faolan agreed.

Broen nodded. “Now, let us get on to what needs doing. Since ye’re here and me friend, I need a favor from ye.”

Faolan’s eyebrows rose. “A favor? It’s ye who owes me for slipping out of me castle—”

Broen grinned, and his friend cursed.

“Ye’re an arrogant bastard, Broen MacNicols.” He sighed. “What do ye want? And do nae tell me ye do nae want something from me, for I know the look well. But I can see ye do nae want to ask me, so I’m curious what it is ye want badly enough ye’d ask another man to do it.”

“Ye’re a smug bastard,” Broen countered.

“But I’m correct tonight.”

Broen ground his teeth so hard his jaw ached, but there was no help for it. “I need ye to fetch Clarrisa back for me.”

Faolan appeared stunned, surprise flickering in his eyes. “Ye mean to say ye’ve lost the little lass?” He chuckled before tossing his head back and laughing loudly enough to send his men to stroking their beards in contemplation of just what the two might be discussing.

“Kael Grant has returned, and his sister helped Clarrisa escape me keep, while I was up listening to the man explain why I should nae run him through over me father’s death.”

Faolan sobered. “What did he have to say?”

“Something I’m still contemplating, but it’s worthy of stepping back. I’m nae feuding with the Grants for the moment. But that will only stand if I get Clarrisa back. I can go after Kael meself—”

“But it would be far simpler for me to pay the man back for using his sister to do ye a disservice.”

Broen nodded. “Exactly. One deception deserves another. Do it for me, and I’ll see ye get the opportunity to settle accounts with Daphne.”

“How do ye plan to do that?”

Broen tilted his head to one side. “She’s inside Deigh.”

“She’s what?” Faolan growled. “Do nae think to fool me so easily.”

Broen stared his friend straight in the eyes. “Ye asked me why I noticed how we’d been fighting over the lass. It was Daphne who pointed it out to me. Kael brought his sister along this morning, and I set her inside me keep while I listened to Kael make his peace. She took a waiting woman, who turned out to be Daphne. Seems she ran to the convent to avoid seeing ye and me at each other’s throats. I’m ashamed to admit she was less foolish than both of us.”

Faolan simply stared at him for a long moment. “That damned woman needs to be—”

“Respected for thinking about both of us above her own future. I’ll be annulling my contract with her. She swears she will nae wed me, because of the harm it does our relationship. Daphne MacLeod has grown into a woman with good sense.”

Faolan wanted to argue, but he clamped his mouth shut and his face turned red. “Ye’re right. May Christ kick me in the balls, but ye’re right.” He shook his head. “Daphne is right.” He suddenly started laughing. “But I’m damned happy to hear she’s alive. Maybe I can sleep again.”

“I will nae rest until I have Clarrisa back. Ye can help me or no’, but I’m going to regain her.”

Faolan studied him for a long moment. “Now ye are the one sounding insane. She’s a woman ye’ve known for a single week. What does it matter if Kael has her?”

“It matters to me because I brought her here, and I will nae see the woman’s blood spilled. I stole her to keep a feud from beginning, no’ so someone could slit her throat because they believe she’s too dangerous to remain among the living.”

Faolan nodded. “Aye, I can see yer way of thinking. There is no honor in allowing the little English lass to fall into the wrong hands, and I’m sure I do nae need another ghost keeping me from me rest. Yer Clarrisa may be English, but she has a fire in her that could see her materializing in our hallways if we let her be murdered. I’ll see what I can do about getting Kael to welcome me into his keep.”

Faolan rode back to his men. Broen watched him go, frustration threatening to drive him insane. But he controlled the urge to ride after Kael. He wasn’t a man who enjoyed letting others do things for him, but the world was becoming a bigger place. No clan survived without alliances and making the most of those connections. Kael Grant was unpredictable. For the moment, he had Clarrisa, and the man knew Faolan had been fighting with him over Daphne.

Faolan had a much better chance of making it into Kael’s tower. One Broen wasn’t sure he had. If he rode up to the gates of Bronach Tower, Kael would know for certain he wanted Clarrisa back. Such an action would expose his Achilles’ heel, something a wise laird never did, not even with a man he considered his ally.

But it meant he was reduced to placing his faith in another. When it came to Clarrisa, he didn’t care for waiting.

He scoffed at himself, trying to counsel his emotions. There were many reasons for leaving Clarrisa with Kael. With the snow gone, the royalists would no doubt be moving to gain access to the prince. He should be focused on the battle looming ahead. Blood was going to flow; he didn’t doubt it. The fact that Clarrisa had been brought to the king would no doubt be even more incentive for the two sides to clash. James had always been too close to the English for any Scotsman to tolerate. Trying to breed himself an English, royal-blooded heir was inexcusable when the man had legitimate sons.

Aye, he should be focused on the powder keg his country was. Instead, he was looking across the hills toward Grant land and cursing Kael for taking Clarrisa.

Actually, she had left of her own free will. The knowledge stung.

He should leave her to the fate she’d chosen, but the kiss she’d given him at sunrise still burned. She was still a prize.

His prize.

“Do ye believe ye made the correct choice, Clarrisa of the York family?”

Clarrisa stiffened but controlled the urge to jump. She turned smoothly to face Kael Grant. Why was it all Highlanders seemed to be huge? Kael was leaning against the doorway, looking relaxed, but there was a sharpness in his gaze that betrayed just how on guard he was.

“Your sister seemed to agree it was the best action.”

Kael grinned, and the expression gave him a rakish appearance. “Which surprised me, for me sister has a wild streak in her.” His eyes flashed a warning at her. “I expect Nareen would stay with her lover no matter the circumstances. No matter what I thought of it.”

Clarrisa ordered herself not to blush. Kael Grant would not see her jumping at the bait he so skillfully dangled in front of her nose. “Then you are accusing your sister of being selfish and considering no one but herself. I doubt she would thank you for such, and I disagree with you. Your sister did not strike me as a disloyal person.”

“Thank ye, Clarrisa. As ye can see, men bluster just as often here in Scotland as they do in England,” Nareen announced from somewhere in the stairwell. Kael laughed, tipping his head back and filling the chamber with the sound of his amusement. His sister appeared, clearly vexed by his demeanor.

“And females try the patience of their kin here in Scotland too,” Kael added with a dry hint of sarcasm.

“Aye, for ye see, if I were his mistress, he’d label me spirited,” Nareen announced with a toss of her hair and not a single hint of remorse for the indecent nature of her comment.

“Obedience has its place in a mistress,” Kael muttered suggestively.

Nareen frowned, her cheeks flushing with color at last, but she shook it off quickly. “Get on with ye, Brother mine.” She aimed a solid blow at his arm, and he recoiled from her but grinned, making fun of her attempts to chastise him.

Two retainers followed Nareen, carrying a bathing tub between them. Nareen directed them with a confident gesture. The men set the tub down and tugged on the corner of their knit bonnets, but they were trying to sneak peeks at Clarrisa while offering respect to their mistress.

“Enough, ye rogues,” Nareen muttered. “I’ve a mind to go tell the priest about yer roguish peeping.” They offered another tug to Kael before disappearing.

“Ye’re a harsh lass, Nareen. I pity the man who weds ye.”

Nareen propped her hands onto her hips as a line of boys came into the solar with yokes across their shoulders bearing buckets of water to fill the tub.

“Oh, do ye now? And but a moment ago I thought I heard ye declaring to all how I’d stay with me lover.”

One of the boys dropped his bucket, splashing water onto the floor. Kael watched the lad try to mop up the mess while his fingers fumbled.

“If any member of this family is bound for shaming our mother, it will no doubt be ye, Kael. Now get ye gone. This is women’s work,” Nareen declared.

Kael pushed his lower lip out into a pout, which looked ridiculous on a grown man.

But Clarrisa laughed. “I agree with you, Nareen. Best to begin praying for his soul now. He looks in need of redemption.”

Kael raised one finger. “If ye want to know me transgressions, lass, well remember the scriptures do warn ye no’ to judge, which means ye’ll be needing to be me partner in sin, if ye intend to be in the proper position to accuse me.”

“I’ve been in your Highlands long enough to know pretty manners will not help me survive here. Save your bragging for a woman interested in what you have to offer her. I am going to bathe,” Clarrisa informed him.

“Maybe I’m interested in viewing what ye have to offer me.” His voice had dipped and was edged with suggestion.

“It would be a waste of your time, unless you have a taste for forcing yourself on women.”

He straightened, the amusement fading from his face. She’d offended his honor, but she didn’t back down. Her chin remained level as he aimed a hard stare at her.

“So ye have courage, Clarrisa of the York family, something I can admire and it explains why Broen has no’ sent ye north.” Something flickered in his eyes that sent a shiver down her spine. The man was pure devilment—she doubted there was anything on earth that he feared.