Lass' Valor (The Pith Trilogy) (14 page)

Brendan
watched his brother warily. Robin knew him well enough to realize something
bothered him. He hesitated. They drank and he became agitated, which wasn’t
foreign. He didn’t know how to broach the subject that he wanted Robin’s view
on.

“I’m
glad Bonnie was returned safely. She seems none the worse for it. We’re
fortunate Kate happened upon her.”

Brendan
nodded. “Aye, I uh … I …”

“You’re
stammering, Brendan. Why don’t ye spit it out? You’ll feel better.” Robin
laughed.

“I’m
wooing Kate. Colin thinks it’s because I’m trying to gain the bastard’s name,
but—”

“The
Kate, our Kate?”

“Aye,
she’s giving me a hard time, though. I thought you might be able to help me.
You were able to convince Tess to have you, and she was so hostile toward you.”
He couldn’t look his brother in the eye. Instead, he studied his cup, swirling
the ale.

Robin
sobered. “Aye, Brendan, but it took me a long while. Wasn’t easy, either. Women
are peculiar.”

“A
while for what?”

“To
realize that I loved her, and that I didn’t want to live without her.”

“Katie’s
bonny, and no other woman has made me want her this much.” Brendan spoke in a
gruff manner, and he hoped his face didn’t display the discomfort he felt.

It
must have, because Robin smiled broadly. “I’ve never seen you so forlorn,
Brendan. If I were you, I’d give up now, man, while you’re still of sound
mind.” He laughed. “Are ye wanting to marry her?”

“I
thought about it,” Brendan admitted.

“You
have?” Robin’s voice cracked.

“Aye,
she’s not going to respond well to my proposal.”

“Why
the hell not?”

“She
wants to return to England, to the king, and have her betrothed fetched. She
said the king had arranged an acceptable betrothal.”

“I
don’t understand. Who is she betrothed to?” Robin cocked his head
questioningly.

“The
Barclay, damn it. She’s said the betrothal is acceptable and wants to secure
her father’s holding. She must know who the betrothed is, but she hasn’t said
anything. How can I convince her to accept me when she finds me so
objectionable?”

Robin
laughed derisively. “You objectionable? That is a problem, Brendan.”

“I
haven’t spoken to her yet about my intention, but I will convince her. I
thought you’d be able to tell me how you went about it.”

“I
wish I could help you. I only know that when I tried to woo Tess, she was angry
because I didn’t talk to her. I just wanted her in my bed. After I realized
that, I talked to her and made her accept me.”

“Nay,
that’s not what I’m going to do.”

“Well,
don’t leave me in the dark.”

Brendan
placed his cup on the table and looked up. “I’ll compromise her then she’ll
have no choice but to wed me.”

“That’s
low, Brendan, even for you. She’ll be angry, and it will likely set you back.”

“I’ll
deal with that.” He stood abruptly, clapping Robin’s hand and left.

Brendan
walked to his favorite place, where he often pondered his problems. The view
from atop the cliff was endless. He formulated his plan to win her acceptance.
As he sat and stared at the landscape, his mind settled on an idea and it made
him smile.

The
day of the celebration finally arrived. Brendan stood inside the hall next to
Colin and Julianna, waiting for Katie’s arrival. Like a skittish lad, he paced
the hall, anxious to get
it
over with.
It
, was the plan he’d come
up with—the scheme that would settle the matter of his and Katie’s betrothal.
The hall began filling with the clan, but he ignored everyone around him, and
kept his eyes focused on the doorway.

Julianna
was excited because her family gathered for the event, and she all but shouted
with joy when Sara, her best friend, and Sara’s husband, Steven KirkConnell, a
neighboring clan, arrived with their children. Brendan watched her run through
the hall to greet her longtime friend. His brother grinned at her joyous
greeting and gave Steven a nod. Brendan pulled away from the wall to greet
Steven.

Colin
stilled him when he passed, by sticking his arm out. “Is she still angry?”

Brendan
stopped and frowned. “Aye, she called me Bryan again.”

His
brother slapped him on the back. “I’m sorry Bonnie told her about the wooing.
She’s just a little mite and didn’t understand. You should be thankful she
didn’t mention the betrothal, but that won’t matter after tonight. Let’s celebrate.
I didn’t think I’d ever want to again.” He poured a cup of ale for Brendan,
then one for himself. “I couldn’t believe what Kate told Julianna. Then I
learned they beat my lass.”

“Katie
went through hell. I cannot wait to repay that swine.”

“It’s
about time someone took care of her and made her happy.” Colin used that
commanding tone, the one he’d used when they were in battle.

“Mayhap.”

“Are
you really going to go through with it, Brendan?”

“Aye,
Colin. I’m thinking about giving my sword arm a rest and concentrating on my
other sword for a while.”

Colin
shook with laughter. “You remember me saying that?”

“Aye.”
Brendan recalled his teasing on that long ago night, when they’d sat beside the
fire on their way back from the border. His brother, Robin, had tried to start
a fracas between them, and Colin teased him about being so surly. He’d never
forgotten it. Brendan took a long drink of ale to abate his skittishness. That
trait wasn’t familiar to him and he didn’t like it at all.

He
pulled away when he noticed Kate had come into the hall, but Colin stopped him.

“You
do know that this is going to cause a war, don’t you?”

“Aye,
I can handle the Barclay and King Henry. A war it shall be, but Katie’s worth
it.”

“I
agree, Brendan, she is. You’ll have our full support.”

He
kept his eyes on Kate, watching her move into the room. “I tell you, she would
flee if she knew what I was up to. Hell, she wants Henry to have her betrothal
fetched upon her arrival, which is why she won’t be going to England. Nay, it’s
better this way, I’ll marry her tonight. She won’t have a chance to run, nor
speak to Henry about her absurd idea. I will be her husband, not a damned
Barclay. You know what else I’m thinking?”

Colin
smiled at her, when she waved. “What?”

“She
should be wearing my plaid.”

“Aye,
Brendan, she should. Why don’t you take care of it? I’ll tell Father Tomas to
come inside and join the celebration.”

Brendan
nodded, giving him a solemn look then walked to her. He wanted to laugh when
she moved through the clan members to avoid him, but he cut her off near the
buttery. She gasped when he took her hand, and pulled her through the hall to
the outside courtyard.

“What
are you doing?”

“I
need to talk to you, Katie.” Brendan was in a hurry, and walked as fast as he
could. He led her down the path to her cottage, and when he reached it, he
yanked her inside and slammed the door closed.

“What
do you want, Barton?”

Brendan’s
jaw ground and he pierced her with his eyes. This night, he would demand she
stop her game with the names. “You know my name. In fact, now that I think on
it, you say it outright when you’re angry. Say it.” He lifted her chin and
forewarned her with his most stern look, not to test him.

“Uh
… it’s …”

He
leaned closer, moving his face inches from hers, and used intimidation tactics
to gain her obedience, because he wasn’t in the mood for her antics.

“B-Brendan.”

“Aye,
don’t forget it again. You may fool others, Katie, but I know you’re
sharp-witted. Your game won’t work with me.” He kissed her, but she shoved him
away, which made him grin.

“Is
that all you wanted to talk about? I want to rejoin the celebration.”

Brendan
pulled his plaid from his chest and held it out to her. “I want you to wear
this.”

Kate’s
mouth dropped open when he stood before her bare-chested. It wasn’t as if he
was naked, but it was darned close. He wore a tartan on his lower body and
boots on his feet, but he might as well have been naked by the way she surveyed
him. He continued to hold the plaid out to her, while she gawked at his chest.
Immediately, his body responded to the caress of her eyes. Her eyes moved to
his battle scars, his abdomen, his waist, and back to his face. Awed by his
power, her breath ceased. As did his when she reached out and slid her hand
over his muscles.

Brendan
dropped the plaid. He picked her up, covered her mouth with his, and carried
her to the adjoining room. They fell upon the bedding, and his kisses became
possessive. He couldn’t get enough of her. She wrapped her arms around him,
holding him tightly. Unable to think clearly, he pressed his body against hers,
reveling at her touches. The warmth of her kisses consumed him.

Briefly,
he pulled his mouth away. “Katie, you’re killing me.” He quickly returned his
mouth, never giving her a chance to respond. Her hands petted his chest, and
danced over his rippled muscles. He groaned at the agony of wanting her, of
feeling her touching him.

Heedlessly,
his hands roamed the material of her gown until they reached her breasts. He
cupped his hands, giving them a light squeeze, as he continued to kiss her
hotly. Her back came up off the bed, and she bumped her head against his. He
chuckled, but pressed her back. Her eyes widened, watching him lower the fabric
of her gown. Once he revealed her beautiful breasts, he lowered his mouth to a
light-pink nipple. His lips surrounded the hardened tip, and his tongue skirted
the texture in sweet abandon.

He
never wanted to stop. As he continued to mesmerize her with his mouth, he
tugged at his tartan and threw it aside. His breath blew a hot trail from one
breast to the other. He used his skill to keep her unknowing of his actions,
but when his naked body pressed against hers, she heaved and tried to move him.
Her attempt was paltry, which indicated she didn’t really want him to move
away.

Brendan
pressed against her, his erection throbbing with need. Never had a woman so
completely affected him. His mouth continued to nibble on her breasts, and he
used his hands to excite her body by moving them over her curves. As his hand
trailed along her leg, he pulled her skirts up, his palm moving over the
softness of her thighs. He looked into her eyes. Passion clouded them, making
them even more beautiful. His mouth moved over hers in a fierce kiss that she
responded to spiritedly.

Her
enticing whimpers drove him onward, and he rubbed her innocence. Brendan was
lost in a battle of sure will. His plan reverberated in his mind. He used his
fingers, readying her, and blissfully stroking the very heat of her. Kate’s
hands gripped his arms. He watched her passion take hold, when she tilted her
head back and closed her eyes. Brendan knew he had to do it, he must continue
in order to secure his right, but something kept him from pressing onward—mayhap
his conscious.

“Katie,
I want to make you mine.” He stopped when his arousal reached her entrance. As
he leaned over her, he caressed her with deliberate strokes.

She
whimpered, and when her body reacted on its own accord, pressing against him,
willing him to proceed, she opened her eyes.

“Tell
me that you want me to make you mine.” He searched her eyes for acceptance, but
all he could see was ambiguity shadowed there.

A
knock sounded on the door.

“Kate,
Brendan, you’re missing the celebration.”

Brendan
leaned his head against hers, fighting the battle going on inside his body. She
looked frightened now, which made him tense. He spoke in a terse voice. “Damn
Gil to hell. Katie, do you want me to stop?”

“Aye,
aye, stop.”

He
rasped, knowing it wasn’t going to happen. His plan to corner her into
accepting him spiraled in a winless battle.

“I
don’t know what you thought you were doing …”

“Katie,
have pity, will ye? I can’t breathe right now, let alone go.” His grating
breath forced his chest to contract.

She
shoved him away. “Please … leave.”

Brendan
wanted to hold her, and he wanted to explain what she’d felt was natural. Most
of all, he wanted to explain that what they’d just experienced was a sure sign
that they belonged together. But he knew she was mortified, and nothing he
could say would change that.

He
rose and his nakedness caused her to exclaim her abashment. She pulled the
covers over her head, her voice muffled. “Get out, now!”

“All
right, but don’t return to the keep without that plaid on.” After he slipped the
tartan around his waist and belted it, he left.

Gil
leaned against a tree near Kate’s cottage, smiling, with his arms folded across
his chest, looking damned proud of his accomplishment. Just what Brendan
needed—a way to defuse his anger. He strode purposely to him, using his fist,
striking him in his left eye.

“Cosh,
Brendan. What did ye do that for?”

“Because
I felt like it. Why did you come and interrupt—” Brendan couldn’t continue,
because Gil’s laughter made him want to kill him.

“If
you wanted to be alone, why didn’t ye just say so?”

“Go
to hell, Gil.” He marched away, before his hands moved to Gil’s neck. Aye, a
good strangling would make the lad see reason.

Brendan
had almost made love to her, and would be inside her right now, if it wasn’t
for Gil’s intrusion. When he reached the loch, he jumped in with his tartan on.
The frigid water cooled his ardor within seconds. Aye, the fire dissipated and
he could think reasonably again. He climbed onto the bank, lay back, focusing
his eyes on the sky. Twilight canvassed the infinite stars that twinkled in the
abyss.

She
wanted him, he conceded. How could he get her to agree? The answer evaded him.
He should just do what he had planned then she couldn’t say nay. It was low of
him, but that didn’t bother him. This night, she would become his, and he smiled
at that. He recalled her beautiful body, ready for loving. A deep sigh attested
his resolve. The lass had him running around like a lost sheep. Brendan scowled
at that. But damn it, if he didn’t take her soon, he thought he’d become
addled.