My Highland Bride (34 page)

Kenna yanked her hair loose, combing her fingers through the tangle of curls as it fell about her shoulders. “You could at least give me a hint.”

Coira snagged hold of Kenna’s elbow and led her to a chair. “Sit ye down so I can attend to yer hair.”

Kenna held up a finger. “One hint?”

Coira didn’t answer, just grabbed up a handful of hair and started attacking it with a brush.

“I give up,” Kenna said as she flinched.
If I say any more, she’s liable to yank me bald.

Coira twisted the curls to the top of Kenna’s head, then finger-curled long dark ringlets down about her face and neck. “There now. Quite lovely, if I do say so m’self.”

“Are Granny and Trulie in the solar or have they gone down to the hall for dinner?” By the length of the shadows across the floor in front of the window, it had to be well past noon.

“Neither.” Coira pulled her up from her seat and hurried her out into the hallway. “They wait for ye in the garden beside the reflecting pool.”

“Odd.” Kenna hurried along beside Coira. The maid’s stern look worried her. And Granny and Trulie were waiting beside the reflecting pool? That couldn’t be good. Had one of them had a vision, and had it been so dire they felt they needed to share it with her? A nauseating knot of dread tightened in Kenna’s middle.

Kenna squinted against the bright sunlight as they stepped outside. A warm breeze hurried her forward into the garden, which was bursting with the colors of late spring. A sense of anticipation permeated the air. It was almost as though every living thing within the garden held its breath—watching and waiting. She glanced back at Coira where she’d stopped in the archway, hands clasped to her chest and beaming with a wide smile. Coira waved her forward. “On wi’ ye now. Go on.”

Kenna pulled in a deep breath, then padded down the stone path, scurried across the layered flagstone steps, and rounded the well-tended hedging surrounding the reflecting pool. And then she stopped, unable to take another step.

Colum stood with his hands clasped at the small of his back, feet widespread and chin held high. The wind fluttered the soft linen of his
léine
against his chest, outlining the hardened muscles she’d melted against a mere few hours ago. His eyes were narrowed to watchful slits against the brightness of the day. But it was Colum’s calm, knowing expression, the tilt of his head and the proud set of his shoulders that stopped Kenna in her tracks. Something had changed. Colum had changed.

Granny, Tamhas, Gray, and Trulie also stood beside the reflecting pool. Faithful Karma, tongue lolling out in a big doggie smile, sat at Trulie’s side, leaning up against his mistress with his heavy tail flopping against the ground in a slow happy wag. Kismet sat atop the low wall surrounding the reflecting pool, surveying the area with a bored flipping of her tail. Chloe’s owl joined the gathering too, gracefully alighting in a nearby tree with a branch suitably close enough to enable him to watch over his charge, currently cradled in her mother’s arms.

“What is…this?” Kenna knotted her fists against her middle, willing her voice to remain steady and strong.

Colum eased toward her, his movements slow and sensual, obviously calculated to increase her pulse rate exponentially. Kenna hitched in a shaking breath and wet her lips. “What is this, Colum?”

The faintest of smiles lifted the corners of his mouth as Colum lowered himself to kneel in front of her. He slid his hands around hers, gently cupping her fingers within his own. “ ‘
This
’ is what a man does when he’s acted the fool for entirely too long.” Colum paused and pressed a kiss to her trembling fingers, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. “ ‘
This’
is what a man does when he finally comes to his senses and seeks to set things right by claimin’ the most precious woman he’s e’er known.”

Tears burned in her eyes, threatening to overflow if she didn’t blink them away. Kenna swallowed hard, her heart so full, speech was not possible.

“Say it, m’love.” Colum pressed another kiss to the tops of her fingers, his lips soft and warm. “Say ye will take me as yer husband even though ye ken I’m a prideful, hardheaded fool.”

“I will,” Kenna whispered as the tears won the battle and spilled down her cheeks.

Colum slowly rose and cupped her upturned face between his hands. With the gentlest of touches, he wiped away the tears and pressed a kiss to each of her eyelids. “Dinna cry, sweet love,” he whispered. “Please dinna cry.”

“Happy tears.” Kenna sniffed and smiled as she covered his hands with her own. “I promise, they’re happy tears.”

Colum nodded, stepped to her side, and tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. “Come. Let us pledge our joining before the gods, kith, and kin so nothin’ in this world or beyond can ever part us again.”

“Aye,” Kenna replied with a happy sigh as they turned toward the reflecting pool. “So mote it be.”

Epilogue

T
HIRTEENTH-
C
ENTURY
S
COTLAND—
A L
ITTLE
O
VER
T
WO
Y
EARS
L
ATER

Kenna shoved another chunk of wood on the fire, then took the iron poker and pushed it deeper into the flames. “We’ll have a good bed of coals in no time. I can’t wait to hear how the girls are adjusting to Edinburgh. It’s been over six months since they left Kentucky.”

“With Eliza at the helm, I’m sure they’ve taken the city by storm. Edinburgh will most likely never be the same.” Granny smiled down at the sleepy-eyed cat curled up beside her on the pillowed bench. She smoothed a hand down Kismet’s rich black coat, ending the affectionate stroke by slipping the cat’s lightly flipping tail through her knobby fingers. “Lilia should do quite well there with the line of natural cosmetics she’s developed. Twenty-first-century Edinburgh should welcome her with open arms.”

“And Mairi has her degree now, so she shouldn’t have any trouble landing a job in medicine.” Kenna added a few smaller sticks to the fire, adjusted their placement with the poker, then joined Granny on the bench. “I hope she’s careful about healing people, though. It won’t take much for folks to catch on to her abilities if she heals someone
normal
medicine can’t help.”

Granny smiled, staring down into the flickering yellow flames as if watching something a great deal more intriguing than burning wood. “That won’t be an issue. It’s nearly Mairi’s time to join us.” She blinked as though waking from a daze, then turned to Kenna. “Mairi’s meant for Ronan.”

“Ronan?” An uneasy feeling rippled through Kenna, stirring her already nauseous state closer to spewing level. Pregnancy had turned out to be just as adept at making her queasy as jumping through time’s version of motion sickness. A sip of cool spring water laced with crushed peppermint leaves helped ease the nausea. Kenna balanced the tankard atop the small swell of her stomach, cupping it between her hands. “Are you sure she’s meant for Ronan?”

“Quite sure.” Granny nodded. She pulled her gaze away from the crackling fire and faced Kenna. “Speak your mind, child. I know that tone. What’s troubling you about your sister’s match?”

Kenna worried her thumb along the rim of the mug. How could she explain to Granny what she wasn’t really sure of herself? “Ronan’s nice. An honorable man. But he’s…different.”

“Different?”

Another sip of water and a deep inhale of the peppermint fumes fortified her resolve. “He…” How the hell could she tell Granny that the man thought his mother was a wolf and that he was capable of growling just like one of the wild woolly beasts? Not to mention what Colum had told her he’d seen on the day he’d challenged Ronan to the duel. Colum swore that not only had the man been carrying on a conversation with a wolf, but that some scaly creature Colum swore looked like a dragon had been in on the visit as well.

“Spit it out, Kenna. I’m too weary to attempt to read your thoughts. Chloe and her owl kept Kismet and me quite busy today.” Granny continued stroking Kismet, the black cat’s contented purring rumbling through the relaxing glow of the room, lit only by the fire in the hearth and a single taper on the table.

“He thinks his mother is a wolf, and apparently the two of them are also quite close to what appears to be a dragon. I saw the wolf while we were bringing Colum back here to be healed, and Colum swears he saw both the wolf and the dragon on the day he challenged Ronan. Even his men mentioned some sort of fierce beast when I planted a vision of a three-headed dragon in their minds.” Kenna waved her mug through the air to emphasize her words. “And Coira even heard talk of a curse. Isn’t there someone more
normal
we could get for Mairi?”

“A debt must be paid.” Granny stared sadly down at the fire, her hand stilling atop Kismet’s side, her fingers laced in the cat’s plush black fur. “Tia brought shame upon our house.” Granny’s voice fell to a whisper. “Mairi will set things right.”

“Tia?” The room suddenly seemed colder, the cheerful glow less bright. It had been ages since Granny had spoken of wicked Aunt Tia, Granny’s twin sister.

“In a fit of jealousy, Tia worked a spell, a vile curse that included as one of its victims an innocent—an unborn child.” Granny released a heavy sigh. “Ronan was that child.”

Kenna took another sip of water, then slid the mug onto the table beside her. She hated to ask, hated to push Granny, but she had to know. “What was the curse?”

Granny seemed to grow a bit paler as she stared unblinking into the fire. “The Fates gave me but a glimpse into Ronan’s history, into the extent of the curse,
after
he’d kidnapped you and disappeared into the Highlands. They showed me just enough so I could see and understand why he meant you no harm, and was in fact meant for Mairi.” She shuddered in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. “Immortality is Ronan’s curse, as well as the ability to assume the form of his birth.” Granny shrugged her wrap closer about her shoulders. Her voice grew softer, almost as if she was talking to herself. “But he only changes when the need arises.”

“By ‘changes,’ you mean he assumes the form of his birth?”

Granny nodded. “Yes. Ronan Sutherland was born a wolf, and when he wishes to once again take on the form of a wolf, he can return.”

Kenna stared at Granny, struggling to make sense of what she’d just shared. “He turns into a wolf?”

Granny nodded.

“And he’s immortal?”

“Yes.”

Kenna frowned at the fire, doing her damnedest to make sense of the whole situation. What an absolute mess. And it was about to be dropped right in poor Mairi’s lap. “So…where does the dragon come in?”

Granny shrugged and resumed the scratching of Kismet’s ears. The cat’s eyes narrowed to golden slits and her whiskers flared forward in a feline expression of ecstasy. “The Fates didn’t see fit to explain Ronan’s dragon. That’s for Mairi to discover.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be thrilled about that.”

Granny chuckled. “I’m sure she will be too.”

To all those who were ever told “you can’t”—yes, YOU CAN!

B
Y
M
AEVE
G
REYSON

Highland Hearts

My Highland Lover

My Highland Bride

My Tempting Highlander
(coming soon)

PHOTO: CHRISTA SULLIVAN

No one has the power to shatter your dreams unless you give it to them. That’s M
AEVE
G
REYSON
’s mantra. When she’s not working at the steel mill, Greyson is writing romances about sexy Highlanders and the women who tame them. Tucked away in a five-acre wood, Maeve listens to the wind singing through the trees and hears her characters telling their stories. Her work is proofed by her sharp-eyed dog, Jasper, and her greatest supporter is her long-suffering husband of over thirty-five years, who’s learned not to throw away any odd sticky notes filled with strange phrases.

maevegreyson.com

Facebook.com/AuthorMaeveGreyson

@
maevegreyson

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