Susana and the Scot (6 page)

“Indeed.” Andrew shot her a sultry glance. “Miss Dounreay assures me she will find other quarters for us as soon as possible.”

“I see.” Hamish tapped his lips. No doubt he did.

“I'm certain she will find something more suitable right away. Will you no' … Susanna?” His tone was weighted with intent. His meaning was clear. Obviously he was convinced he'd charmed her with that kiss. Charmed and befuddled her to the extent she would bow to his bidding. Hie off and find him some palatial chamber in which he could lounge.

Bluidy bastard.

She affected a blinding smile. Fluttered her lashes even. “Of course, my laird,” she murmured, affecting a curtsy. “Right away, my laird.”

Perhaps he caught the bite of her tone, perhaps he recognized her submission as the ruse it was, for his brow wrinkled.

“You … ah … are going to find us better lodgings?” he asked.

Other than a pointed grin, she didn't bother to respond. She spun on her heel and left him standing there in the murky kennel loft like the dog that he was.

*   *   *

Andrew stared after Susana, his emotions in turmoil.

Ah, God, how could he explain it? How could he explain how her kiss had affected him? That it had filled him with such glory? Such elation? That with one taste of her he'd known—
known
—that
this
was what he had been searching for, for six long years?

At the touch of her lips, he'd been engulfed in a stupefying enchantment, a singing in his veins, a lightness of spirit. It had felt like coming home, holding Susana Dounreay in his arms. It had felt … right.

It was a bluidy shame they'd been interrupted. He very much wanted to kiss her again. To see if he'd imagined it, that staggering … familiarity.

Hamish strolled toward him, tucking his fingers into the pocket of his jerkin. His grin was wicked. “I hope I didn't interrupt anything … interesting,” he said.

Andrew raked his hair. Hamish had no clue. He had no idea what he'd interrupted. That kiss had shifted his world on its axis. Even now, he spun.

His friend pinned him with a sharp glance. “Because it seemed like you were very close to winning our wager.”

The wager? Who gave a good goddamn about the wager?

Hamish ignored his gaping stare. “I met a charming milkmaid as I was brushing down my mount. I thought she would be number ninety-eight, but clearly she will have to wait.” He winked. “I wouldna want you to slip in with a win. Looks like I shall have to turn my attentions to the lovely Susana and steal her kiss before you do.”

Andrew opened his mouth to tell his friend to bugger off. That he'd already kissed Susana, already won the bet, but something stilled his tongue. He didn't want to share this, share her, with anyone.

Besides, Hamish was joking. Surely he was joking.

Still, Andrew's hands curled into fists.

Which was providential.

Or he might have throttled his best friend right then and there.

*   *   *

Susana stormed from the loft and made her way to the captain of the guard's office in the battlements. At one time, the small stone chamber had been the lookout post atop the castle walls, but now it was Keir's center of operations.

At the moment, it served as her sanctuary. She needed to collect her thoughts. To regain her footing. To remind herself who she was … and who she had been.

She'd sworn—
sworn
—never to be seduced again. Never to let a man have a hold on her. Never to let someone hurt her the way that boy once had. She'd come perilously close to succumbing to his charms. With hardly any provocation.

It had been a kiss.

A mere kiss.

And she'd been ready to give him more. Everything. Anything.

The thought appalled her.

Keir glanced up from the papers he was studying when she entered and sent her a grin. “Back already?” He hadn't approved of her riding out on her own to investigate the loss of yet another cow, but Susana had insisted. She was determined to carry her share of the load. Keir couldn't do everything on his own, and their men were spread woefully thin. She'd certainly not expected to catch the thief in the middle of a robbery.

She plopped down in the chair by the desk. “Aye.”

“Find any trouble?”

Any trouble? “Plenty.”

His grin faded and his muscles bunched. He was a typical warrior male, ready to leap into the fray. Though it was obvious to her he had an interest in her, he'd always kept his distance and behaved like a gentleman. More than that, he'd treated her as an equal. Which was probably why, even though he was younger than some of her men, he was the captain of her guard. Though they may be more experienced, the older men tended to pat her on the head and try to send her on her way. Keir did not.

He sat back in his chair and pursed his lips. “What was it?” he asked.

“I caught the thief.”

“Excellent.”

She frowned. “Not so. He escaped … thanks to Dunnet's men.”

Keir stilled. “Dunnet's men?” He fingered his quill. “I sent them all to patrol the southern crofts.”

“Not
those
men.” Susana leaned forward. “Did you know my father wrote to Dunnet, asking him to send
more
men?”

His jaw tightened. “I dinna.”

“Apparently, since our fortifications havena been strong enough to deter Stafford, or the other miscreants roaming the hills, my father decided we needed a more powerful presence. So Dunnet sent more men. They arrived today.”

Keir's throat worked. “How many?”

“Twenty-five.” This she spat. Though in truth, there was only one of those men that irked her. Susana lurched to her feet and paced the room. “Can you believe that? And the leader of these men has announced
he
is taking over the defenses … altogether.”

“What? But…” His lashes flickered. “That's your job.”

“I know. How annoying is that?” She pinned Keir with a glower. “We doona need them.”

“We most certainly do not.”

“I am so aggravated.”

He almost smiled. “I can tell.”

“I've housed them in the loft over the kennel.”

Keir tipped his head to the side. “But there's plenty of room in the east wing of the castle.”

The smile she offered was sweet. “I'm aware of that. Can we find twenty-five pallets?”

“Pallets?” A conspiratorial light danced in his eye.

“Lumpy ones?”

“I'm certain that can be arranged.”

“Verra lumpy.”

“I'll speak to Tamhas at once.”

She whirled and made another pass of the room, tapping her lip as she thought. “And weren't we planning to make some repairs to the privy in the kennel?”

“I, ah … Yes. I do believe we were.” He cleared his throat. “We were also planning to fix the leak in the kennel roof…”

Her smile turned vicious. “
That
can wait.”

“It's going to rain. In the next day or two,” he said in a warning tone.

She affected a shrug. “They are warriors. They can take a little rain.”

He bowed mockingly. “As you wish, my lady.”

“Oh, and make sure our men are made aware that if they're approached by Dunnet's minions, they're to come to me. I doona want strangers skulking about asking questions about our strategies.”

“Good idea.”

“Who knows who these men really are? Where their loyalties lie?”

“Indeed.”

“There are far too many strangers in Dounreay. Any one of them could be reporting back to Stafford.”

Keir nodded. His expression hardened. “Stafford is not our only concern.”

Susana nodded. “The raids…” Recently, with the upheaval of the Clearances in the Highlands, more and more people had been displaced and lost their homes. Many had moved to the cities in a desperate search for work, but others had turned to raiding and outright villainy to keep their bellies filled. Within the past month there had been six raids on Reay crofts.

“Beyond that…” Keir pursed his lips. Something in his voice captured her attention.

“There's more?”

He sighed and scrubbed the back of his neck. It occurred to her—and not for the first time—that he was a very handsome man. His features were bold and strong and his eyes were a dark sleepy brown. His shoulders were broad and his neck thick. His body was roped with muscle. Aside from that, he was loyal and fierce in the protection of Dounreay.

If she were in the market for a husband—which she most decidedly was not—Keir would be an excellent candidate.
He
would probably not forget a woman he'd kissed. It was a pity she had no interest in him. It was a pity a certain silver-haired Lothario had ruined her for other men.

He blew out a breath and looked up at her through the fringe of his lashes. “I heard a rumor about Scrabster.”

Susana winced. She must have made a face, because Keir chuckled. He was no stranger to her rants about their revolting neighbor to the east. Aside from the fact that Scrabster encouraged his tacksmen to incite squabbles with Reay crofters and frequently made claims on land and cattle that didn't belong to him, the worm had been relentless in his pursuit of her. Rarely did a week pass by when her father didn't receive another request for her hand. Even though Susana had turned him down flat every time.

“What did you hear?”

“He's gathering men on the border.”

Susana ceased pacing and dropped into her chair. “Gathering men?”
Bluidy
hell. Whatever for? He wouldn't dare attack. Would he? Then again, it was Scrabster. He was capable of almost anything. If he thought he could overrun Dounreay and claim the land as his own, he might just try.

For the first time, she felt a flicker of relief that Dunnet had sent more men. Though their overlord the duke didn't care about the fate of his far-flung crofts, at least Dunnet did. Then again, securing their safety was why Hannah had married him, poor thing. A flicker of pity for her sister needled her. Pity … and guilt. Hannah had sacrificed everything—walked right into the wolf's den—to keep her people safe. And here Susana was, resisting that help.

But it wasn't Dunnet's help she resented. It was his brother's presence. Here. In
her
world.

“My lady?”

She thrust the inconvenient pang of guilt aside and focused on the captain of her guard. “Aye?”

“Shall we increase patrols on the border?”

She nibbled her lip. Reassigning the men meant the crofts to the south and the western borders would have fewer patrols. But if Scrabster truly was up to something heinous, it was better to be safe than sorry. “Aye, Keir. Shift the bulk of our men to the eastern border.”

His smile reassured her. This was, indeed, the wise choice. “Aye, my lady. I will see to it at once.”

“Excellent. And Keir?”

“Aye, my lady?”

“Keep Andrew Lochlannach and his men busy, will you?”

His chuckle rumbled through the room. “Ach, aye, my lady. I shall. I shall, indeed.”

She grinned at him. It was good to know there was one man she could count on.

And as for Andrew and his enthralling smile, his seductive looks, and his too-tempting lips … well, she would avoid him like the plague.

 

CHAPTER FOUR

If Andrew thought he was going to find Susana and perhaps get another taste of her that afternoon, he was bound for disappointment. After their altercation, she'd disappeared. He and his men settled themselves in the fragrant loft to the tune of yipping hounds with the help of one of her minions. Then, when he went for a stroll with Hamish, taking in the lay of the land, she was nowhere to be found.

Andrew found this a trifle frustrating, because he was anxious to begin. Anxious to study the current plans and assess where he and his men could help. He hoped to pin her down in a conversation about her defenses at dinner, for which he'd received an invitation.

The invitation had come from Magnus, but Andrew was certain she would be there. Anticipation bubbled through him. The thought of seeing her again sent fire licking in his veins.

He probably wouldn't be able to kiss her again—at least, not at the table, with her father and his best friend looking on—but maybe later … Maybe he would invite her for a walk in the garden after dinner. Maybe he would kiss her there.

The castle did have a lovely garden. In the moonlight it would be quite romantic.

Though she was a warrior princess, she was, still and all, a woman. She would like to be romanced.

Wouldn't she?

She would like a kiss in a moonlit garden.

And maybe, if she liked it enough … there could be more.

Buoyed by such hopeful thoughts, there was a spring in his step when he and Hamish arrived at the castle that evening. They were escorted by Tamhas, the factor, into Magnus's library, where the Laird of Reay was enjoying a whisky.

It was a remarkable library with shelves reaching from the floor to the ceiling of the two-storied chamber. A railing ran around the second-floor gallery, and a curling staircase connected the two floors. Each shelf was jammed with books, some of which, for some incomprehensible reason, sported tiny arrows. The ground floor was scattered with divans and thickly cushioned chairs.

Andrew scanned the room, looking for Susana. His mood dipped when he realized she was not here.

“Ah! My boy!” Magnus heaved himself from the chair by the fire and made his way across the room, greeting both men effusively. He had, perhaps, been at the whisky for a while. “Come in. Come in. Take a seat.” He waved them toward the companion chairs by the fire. “I canna tell you how delighted I am to have company.” He shot a glance into the shadows—though there was no one there but the three of them. “Manly company,” he whispered. “I think this calls for a drink.” He headed for the whisky and poured each of them a generous serving of the amber liquid. He topped off his glass as well.