My Highland Bride (17 page)

“There’s my Kismet.” Mother Sinclair chuckled as she bent and trailed a hand across the cat’s sleek back. “Have you been enjoying the moonlight too, old friend?”

The cat responded with a ringing
twrrppp
as she wove back and forth under the elderly woman’s hand. The golden-eyed feline glanced toward the shadows where Colum hid, flattened her ears against her head, and hissed.

Colum held his breath as Mother Sinclair looked where Kismet directed, squinting over the tops of her glasses. He tensed as the matriarch’s sweeping gaze reached him and paused for a brief second before moving on.

“I don’t see anything. Is your sight becoming as bad as mine, old friend?” Mother Sinclair rubbed the cat one last time, then straightened with the help of the staff. She peered up at the sky before turning back to Kenna. “Are you ready to go back, gal, or do you need more fresh air? It’s gettin’ close to bedtime.”

Kenna pulled the hood of her cloak up from her shoulders and settled it over her head. She glared up at the moon, scowling at the blue-white orb. “You’re right, Granny. It is getting late. Might as well call this day a wash.”

Colum released the breath he’d been holding. Good. ’Twas best the women returned to the keep and the safety of their chambers. Colum measured the moon’s climb in the sky. ’Twas late, but not so late that a fightin’ man wouldna still be about the business of enjoyin’ a wee drink. Perhaps he’d mix with Sutherland’s men and see if a few swallows of fine MacKenna whisky would loosen their tongues about their master.

Mother Sinclair and Kenna paused not too far from the shadows where Colum hid. Kenna gently rubbed a hand across her grandmother’s bent shoulders as she glanced back at the keep. “But on the other hand, why don’t you go ahead and go back. I’d like to stay out here just a bit longer if you don’t mind. Maybe the moonlight will soothe my soul and brighten my current outlook on life.” She motioned across the muted nightscape of the silent garden. “As you can see, there are no evil males lurking about waiting to relieve me of my virtue.” A sad smile tensed Kenna’s face as she folded her hands at her waist. “I think I’ll be safe without you. Don’t worry. I’ll be up in a bit.”

Leaning heavily on her staff, Granny straightened and took one last glance around the garden. “I wish Karma had come with us. I’d feel better about leaving you out here alone if that big black beast were guarding you.”

Kenna laughed. “Now you know ‘that big black beast’ is completely besotted with tiny Chloe. He’s not going to leave her side unless he’s forced—not even for a romp in the garden.”

Colum shifted his weight and rubbed a shoulder against the knobby grain of the stone wall.
Hie back to the keep with yer grandmother, love.
He was anxious to join their visitors. This trip to the garden had been a waste of precious time. The remainder of the night could still be fruitful, mingling among Sutherland’s men to learn more about their strange master and what the man might be plotting.

Colum eased toward the outer gate, stretching to see across the grounds to the stables. Golden torchlight flickered from between the cracks of the loosely shuttered windows.
Aye
. Their visitors still stirred. They were more than likely checking their mounts before retiring for the evening. There was still time to put a skin of whisky to good use, a wee dram or three shared with the travel-weary men. Colum nodded again, a sense of certainty settling in his gut.
Aye
. Their tongues would be loosened in no time.

Colum glanced back into the garden just as Granny and the cat disappeared through the archway leading into the keep. He quickly scanned the rest of the moonlit grounds, his gaze settling on Kenna.
Dammit t’hell.
There she was. Why had she no’ gone inside with her grandmother?

Kenna sat on the low stone bench beside the reflecting pool. She stared down at the shimmering surface of the water, sadly engrossed in trailing a crooked stick through the sparkling ripples.

Dammit straight t’hell and back.
Colum raked a hand through his tangled hair. A sense of helpless frustration tightened like a band around his chest. His love looked so sad—so all alone—staring down at the reflections dancing atop the water.

Guilt punched him in the gut.
Forget about Sutherland’s men
. The forlorn look on Kenna’s face broke Colum’s heart. His behavior had put that sad curve on her soft, sweet mouth. Surely, she knew how much he loved her? Surely, she had to know they would be together soon? He must go to her. He had to make this right.

“Why, Lady Kenna, I understood ye to say ye were too weary for a bit of air in the garden?” Regal and dark, Chieftain Ronan Sutherland stepped out from behind a freestanding stone arch covered with a tangled veil of dark green ivy. His silver hair glinted like precious metal in the glow of the swollen moon.

Kenna jerked, dropping her twig into the pool. A pale, trembling hand flew to her throat. “Dammit! You startled the bejeebers out of me.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth as soon as the words cleared her mouth.

Colum sank back into the shelter of the shadows. He sidled around a row of evergreen shrubbery, drawing as close as he could without risking discovery. Without a sound, he slid his dagger from its sheath and readied it against his side. Sutherland’s behavior would decide whether he allowed the man to live to see the sunrise. Colum held his breath as he strained to peer through the sparse evergreen foliage and read Sutherland’s expression.

A deep chuckle rumbled free of Sutherland’s dark form. The shiny black linen across his shoulders rippled in the moonlight as his body shook with mirth. “Ye have quite a way with words, Lady Kenna. It pleases me to learn the rumors are true.” He slowly eased closer, like a great black cat stalking its prey.

Kenna rose from the bench and nervously adjusted her cloak about her shoulders. She sidled backward with an uneasy hitching step and put more distance between them. “What rumors? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Rumors of how the Sinclair women are like no other in Scotland.” Sutherland held out his hand and bowed slightly. “Forgive me for catchin’ ye unawares. Ye have m’word, I mean ye no ill will.”

“No ill will my arse,” Colum grumbled under his breath. He’d lay odds the bastard was up to no good. He felt it in his bones.

Clouds skittering across the moon danced thin shadows over the ground. Colum glared up at the shining orb. Now was nay the time for the moonlight to grow fickle. He needed to see everything. Movements spoke louder than words and often held their own subtle warnings.

Kenna’s shoulders rose and fell as though she struggled to shake free an unseen weight. She remained silent, staring down at Sutherland’s outstretched hand. Her mouth trembled into a determined line and her delicate form moved with what appeared to be a deep intake of breath. Whatever struggle went on in Kenna’s mind must’ve finally ended. A calm look settled across her face as she slid her hand into Sutherland’s palm. “You have my forgiveness—this time.”

Colum bit back a growl as Kenna fell in step beside the man and he curled her arm up into his. What the hell did Sutherland think he was doing? How dare he take Kenna’s arm as though they were already matched and headed toward the altar?

As Kenna and Sutherland meandered closer, Colum squeezed the worn leather haft of his
biodag
tighter. Something was about to happen—he sensed it in his gut—and he and his dagger would be ready. The verra air crackled with anticipation. A shiver raked across him as every hair dusting his arms stood on end. A burning tingle flashed across his flesh.

Colum crouched low behind a hedge. He had to get closer. He had to follow as close as possible once Kenna and Sutherland passed by. Something ill was afoot and he’d be damned if he allowed it.

A sharp pain exploded at the base of his skull. Nauseating darkness, fractured with bursts of light, closed in around him. A muffled scream echoed nearby, then everything went black.

Chapter 19

Kenna screamed against the calloused hand clamped across her mouth. Ronan’s arm tightened like a steel band around her waist, locking her back against his hard chest.

“Quiet now, lass. I nay wish for any harm t’befall ye. ’Tis foolish t’struggle so.” Ronan’s deep voice took on the patient tone of a master quieting his pet. “Ye must calm yourself now. ’Twill no’ be such a chore if ye settle yer mind on that which canna be changed. Quiet yerself and accept yer fate.”

“Canna be changed” my ass! I’ll make you think “canna be changed.” Wait ’til I get through with your mind.
Kenna forced herself to relax back against Ronan’s broad chest. She smoothed her palms up into the loose sleeves of his
léine
and spread her fingers across the corded muscles of the arms locked against her struggles.
Clear your mind.
She forced her eyes closed and imagined Granny’s gentle voice guiding her through the ordeal.
You can do this, gal.
Breathing came easier as her heart rate slowed.

Her hands warmed as she focused her energy into her palms. The subtle rattling of a wagon sounded from the direction of the stables. The muffled
clip-clop
of horses’ hooves against hard earth grew louder, charging another burst of adrenaline through every nerve ending.

Concentrate, Kenna. Emotions only create chaos.
It had been a long while since she had erased an entire mind. Life had been pretty calm since she’d arrived in Scotland. Other than Chloe’s birth and falling in love with Colum, life had pretty much been bobbing along at an even keel in the thirteenth century.

Her heartbeat pulsed into her fingertips. The energy hummed a slow steady rhythm as her concentration deepened.
One more deep breath and then it’s playtime.
Kenna inhaled, then powered forward.

All senses focused. Every sound, every sensation in the garden fell away to a whirling tunnel of darkness lit by glowing bursts of multicolored explosions. The mind tunnel always made Kenna think of a black hallway someone had colored by bursting water balloons filled with sparkling paint. Kenna dove forward, following the iridescent trail toward a shining beacon at the end of the tunnel.

In the span of time it takes to form a thought, she reached a shimmering wall of white light at the end of the tunnel. There it was—the portal to Ronan’s mind.
Time to clean house
. Kenna rubbed her fingers together, then flattened her hands across the satiny surface of the gently undulating wall. Granny’s voice still guided her.
One more deep breath, gal, then push. You can do this.

The wall resisted, caved inward, then slowly pushed back.
What the crap?
That had never happened before. Sometimes she failed at pulling memories away, but even Colum’s mind had never refused her entry. Kenna rubbed her fingertips together faster, amping up the energy. It had to be her anger that was fouling up the flow of her power. Keeping all emotions under control was the first lesson Granny always taught.

Inhale. Hold it. Release. Concentrate.
Kenna flattened her hands against the wall and shoved harder. The wall’s opposing push was less gentle this time and was accompanied with a stinging zap as painful as an electrical jolt. Kenna jumped back and fanned her hands against the burning sensation.

Well, dammit. What a load of bullshit.
Kenna knotted her fists, locked her elbows, and plowed full force into the glowing membrane. Sting or no sting, she was getting into Ronan’s mind.

Her mind exploded with blinding white sparks. Her arms burned and throbbed with a bone-cracking burst that stung all the way to her shoulders. Kenna popped open her eyes to the moonlit hillside just behind the back wall of the MacKenna gardens.

“Now ye know ye canna breach m’mind. I was told it would be so—that ye would try. I know about yer gifts from the Fates, and I believe ye’ll find that none o’ yer wiles will work upon me, for I possess a few wiles of me own.” Ronan’s deep chuckle rumbled against her back as he adjusted his hold around her waist. “As soon as the men bring the wagon ’round, we shall be on our way to yer new home. The journey is quite long. But rest assured, ’twill give us ample time to get t’know one another properly.”

Like hell. If I can’t erase your mind, I can at least relieve you of your pompous attitude.
Kenna leaned back and bit down hard on Ronan’s fingers. At the same time, she planted the heel of her boot hard into his instep.

Ronan grunted, shifted to one side, then swore something under his breath. Kenna wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure he’d just used a very bad Gaelic curse word.
Good. Now for the rest of the story.
She squirmed lower and aimed an elbow for the man’s groin. There were disadvantages to being a tall man kidnapping a much smaller woman, and it was her pleasure to introduce Ronan to this particular one. For once, Kenna thanked her ancestors for bequeathing her a very diminutive five-foot frame.

Ronan’s amusement rumbled against her back, infuriating Kenna even more.

You think this is funny?
A muffled roar ripped from her throat as she jabbed both elbows hard and fast and kicked like a wild mule.

“Yer a vicious wee beastie, I’ll gi’ ye that.” Ronan sidestepped just in time to save his manhood, while keeping his hand firmly clapped over her mouth. “If ye keep fightin’ me, yer goin’ to find yerself trussed up like an animal ready for the spit and I dinna ken ye’ll fancy that one whit.”

The taste of blood filled Kenna’s mouth, whether hers or Ronan’s she couldn’t tell; nor did she particularly care. One way or another, she was going to get free, and then there’d really be hell to pay. The crunch of wagon wheels against dry earth sounded from around the corner of the garden wall, ratcheting her heartbeat to an even faster pound. She had to figure something out, and she had to do it fast.

Where the devil were Gray’s men? Where the hell was Colum? The MacKenna clan bragged theirs was the most impenetrable keep in all the Highlands. Kenna blinked against the sting of panicky tears. Sutherland’s men were stealing her right out from under everyone’s nose. This could not be happening.