The Love of Her Life (Highlander Heroes Book 6) Page 10

  Katie barked an unholy snort of disbelief for this weak, likely just-invented argument. “I didn’t even know that you were capable of smiling, so sullen are you, and the first one I see is attached to that despicable game. You are a heartless person.”

  Neither of them moved.

  Until finally the silence lengthened that she closed her eyes against his piercing gaze, wishing him away.

  “I’d no’ lie to you. I thought they slept still...and then I thought to make light of it, thought—I dinna ken, I thought that might make you less embarrassed.”

  Wanting only to end this conversation, wanting nothing more than to be away from him, she conceded tersely, “Fine. Thank you for that.” She started to walk away.

  “I dinna like when you do that.”

  He was following her, his pace even, though he did not try to stop her.

  “When I do what?” She snapped.

  “When you close up like that, bottle it all inside.”

  “Not every battle is worth the fight.”

  “A man who wants to kiss you no’ worth the effort? Your time?”

  She whirled on him, surprising him so that he jerked to a halt and she was forced to tilt her head back to address him and his ridiculousness. “You can stop now. The jest has been played. You show your dishonor by persisting.”

  His face hardened. “Lass, you accuse me of almost anything else, I’m no’ going to fuss at you. But dinna question my honor.”

  She was only curious, not anything else, about his suddenly implacable tone.

  But then he asked, “Why the tears then?” He lifted his shoulders. “If you—”

  “Why won’t you let this go?”

  His lips curled before he admitted, with no small amount of reluctance, it seemed, “Because I still want to kiss you.”

  From a distance not too great, there rose a voice. Aymer again. “They’re still only talking about it!”

  “Hush up!” Katie hollered in the general direction of the camp at the same time Alec snarled loudly, “Shut the bluidy hell up!”

  Her breath came unevenly and sharply still, facing him again. “Then do it. Get it over with. And then send me and my son home.”

  Alec didn’t move. Seeming to find the very idea disagreeable, he conceded harshly, “Something tells me if I kiss you, lass, I’ll no’ be wanting to send you away.”

  Inexplicably more breathless, unable to stave off the rapid and nervous blinking, she reasoned, “You cannot possibly know that.” She pinched her eyes closed and prayed for deliverance from this most awkward scene. “I suggest we just forget all about—”

  His mouth crashed into hers. Instinctively, instantly, she stiffened, even as her lashes fluttered open with her shock. He was upon her, his hands at her cheeks, his firm and warm lips melting against hers. Katie’s heart beat in double time, and somehow, she found herself less shocked than fascinated that her eyes drifted closed again. He persisted, gentling the kiss, his actions studied and deliberate, neither too forceful nor too slow. Hardly able to believe her own audacity, she responded, her mind woozy while her rigidity slowly evaporated. She found herself tilting her face to receive him better when he angled his head and leaned over her, his fingers tightening on her cheeks and in her hair as the kiss intensified. It seemed only natural, as kissing was not unknown to her, to open for him and take more from him. His tongue was delicious, delving into her with slick expertise, raising gooseflesh on her arms. Heat rose, from him, in her, enveloping them.

  And yet, the delight of the kiss didn’t make anything right, didn’t somehow erase the ugly prelude to said kiss. Katie groaned and splayed her fingers against his solid midsection and pushed him away, lowering her face.

  They were motionless, her head bent toward his chest, unable to face him, her hands still pressed against his hard body.

  “And now that’s done,” she said, finally, breathlessly, the huskiness of her voice surprising her.

  He allowed her to keep her chin to her chest.

  “Nae, lass.”

  “I want to go home.”

  “You can no’. No’ now. I did warn you.”

  Stepping backward, so that his hands slid out of her hair, she said. “No more.”

  And here was the arrogance she might have expected sooner from him. He was well-pleased with himself, regarding her with glittering eyes, even as his square jaw might have been clenched, hardening so much of his handsome face.

  Still, he surprised her by nodding his agreement, even offered, “I will no’ kiss you again.”

  Before she could determine if the sudden tightness in her chest was wrought by disappointment or joy for the reprieve, he added, “I will wait for you to ask for it.”

  She sputtered a bit. “F-for a kiss?”

  “Aye.”

  “I can assure you that will not happen.” She breathed raggedly with relief.

  “Time will reveal to us if that is true.”

  “I-I cannot ever see myself asking you to...” she trailed off and gave a shaky laugh. No, she would never. She knew herself well.

  THE ENTIRE DAY WAS simply miserable. It began to rain when they were not twenty minutes into their drive. Malcolm, once again sitting in the back of the wagon with Katie and Henry, seemed unperturbed by the stinging wet barbs, barely blinking as it poured over him, spiking his lashes and dripping down his face.

  Thankfully, and bless him, he’d made no comment about the way the day had started, said nothing to Katie at all, gave her no sly glance that she wondered if Alec had cautioned him to leave off teasing her.

  By midday, she and Henry were soaked through and her shoulder was throbbing that she briefly bared it to Malcolm, asking if her flesh was bright red, unable to see as it was so close under her chin. It was not, he thought. Even Henry was made melancholy by the rain, his earlier conversation with Malcolm, when they’d first set out, quiet and quick.

  “Malcolm, where will Mam and me live when we get to Swordmair?”

  The big man shrugged. “Haven’t thought about that. Morven dinna live inside the castle walls, nor even in the village. We haven’t been home in almost a year, I’m no’ sure what cottages—if any—might be vacant. Aye, but the mistress will take good care of you.”

  “Who’s the mistress?” Henry asked.

  “Alec’s mam. Nice lady. A coddler, you ken.”

  Henry had nodded and tucked his head more deeply against his mother, away from the cold rain.

  Sometime later, when she’d been tortured enough inside her own head for that kiss, when she could resist no more, she asked quietly of Malcolm, “What happens if we reach Swordmair, and...perhaps it’s not a good fit, either for Me and Henry, or for Swordmair? What happens then?”

  Malcolm showed her a scowl, his thick brows bunching together while his lips pursed. But his answer did give her some relief. “I’ll return ye myself to Dalserf or take ye anywhere ye want to go. Ye give the word, and I’ll get ye out of Swordmair.”

  They stopped only once all day, and Katie and Henry dashed through the rain to find relief in the trees and when she returned, Alec MacBriar sat atop his huge destrier beside the wagon, talking to Malcolm.

  “If no’ for the rain, we might have made good time, might’ve pushed to reach Swordmair tonight,” Alec was saying, “but we’ve lost time, will have to camp out one more night.”

  Malcolm stood on the ground at the rear of the wagon, where they’d left him after he’d helped Katie and Henry alight. He shrugged and responded to Alec, “Makes no difference if we get home before dark or before the sun rises tomorrow. I say we push on.”

  “We’d need to stop at least an hour tonight to rest the horses,” Alec argued. His hazel eyes rested on Katie as she neared, even as he continued speaking to Malcolm. “Canna think they can walk twenty hours, no rest.”

  “Aye, give ‘em an hour. We can move in the dark up here, safer now closer to home. To Swordmair by sunrise.” Malcolm turned and lifted Katie by her wai
st to set her back into the wagon bed.

  She settled herself first before meeting Alec’s gaze again. He watched her still, said nothing more to Malcolm, seemed content to disturb her with the power of his regard.

  “Can I ride with you, Alec?” Henry asked, having not followed Katie up into the vehicle.

  Still, his gaze kept with Katie. “If your mam says aye.”

  She nodded quickly. She didn’t give consent to earn his favor, but to please her son, and because there really was no reason to say no. If Alec didn’t object, she had no cause to deny her son.

  They took to the road again, or rather to the never-ending patchwork landscape, moving from meadow to hill and through woods and across streams, the sullen rain their constant companion.

  With naught to do but huddle inside her cloak and the fur, trying to stay warm, Katie was left with little choice but to address the entire circumstance of this morning. Sighing with some weariness at the very thought, she was not entirely sure that a sunny sky would have colored her deliberations about that kiss this morning any differently, but she decided this was not the way she’d have chosen to begin her new life.

  Something draws me to you.

  Aye, that she understood, might have said something similar—if question at knifepoint, mayhap.

  What was it about Alec MacBriar that intrigued her so, despite her previous certainty that she really didn’t like him? True, the very essence of the man was appealing. Beyond handsome, built for war and shelter and apparently bewitching kisses, he had much to recommend him. Was it only then, residual wariness or resentfulness over the first few minutes of their very first meeting that distorted the whole picture of the man?

  And, more importantly, was it all truly and simply merely a game to him?

  Having no answers, having only an ache about her temple for all the unknowns, Katie resolved that she would do well to avoid Alec MacBriar and his magnificent kiss altogether.

  “AND WHEN WE STOP IN a bit, you first make sure your mam needs no help with anything before you get your grub, aye?”

  Henry nodded in front of him. “Mam dinna need a lot of help. She got better already faster than Malcolm. He dinna wake for a long time.”

  “Aye, she’s verra strong,” Alec readily agreed. “Still, you ask her, aye?”

  “Yes, sir. Will there be another battle before we get to Swordmair?”

  “Nae, lad. We’ll find no English this far north, God willing, and we’ll no’ travel any unfriendly clan lands.”

  “Can I be a soldier?”

  “When you’re older,” Alec answered, “and if your mam allows you.”

  “She will,” Henry assured him. “She dinna like to be scared. I can save her when I’m bigger.”

  “Aye, that’s a good lad. Was your da’ a soldier?”

  “He must’ve been,” Henry allowed, which was not quite a definitive answer. “He could slay ten men all by himself. His sword was the mightiest sword in all the world, and Mam says he was as clever as he was brave.”

  Alec was sorry he asked. The man couldn’t have been that great, or he’d not have died and left her alone. Jesu. Catching himself, he rolled his eyes at his own perverse thinking.

  Mercifully, the heavy rain had finally exhausted itself, though a persistent mist seemed to hang thickly in the air. They paused along a rolling stream just before dark and Henry did indeed run straight for his mother. Alec gave his horse to Simon as Henry stood on tiptoe over the rails of the cart. His mother smiled at whatever he said to her and alighted from the wagon, taking Henry’s hand to find some privacy.

  They were gone long enough that Alec’s brow furrowed and eventually he made to follow them, his hand on the hilt of his sword. While the horses were fed and watered, Alec walked upstream, relaxing when he spied Katie and Henry huddled together much further ahead. Actually Katie was sat upon a flat-topped rock, as tall as Henry’s knees, and Henry stood very close. As her back faced Alec, he realized that she’d pulled her arm completely free of the sleeve, likely easy to do since the gown had been cut so drastically.

  Henry was attempting to wrap her wound with a long strip of linen.

  Moving around to her front, Alec perused her arm and shoulder but briefly, taking note of the creamy paleness.

  Henry had already begun the binding that Alec was afforded no view of his inept handiwork with needle and thread.

  Katie didn’t fuss at his arrival, seemed only weary and cold, her shoulders slumped. She lifted her arm each time Henry made to pass the linen underneath and gave her silent enigmatic regard to Alec.

  Shrugging a bit, he offered only, “I did the best I could.”

  “It’s cleaned and closed,” she allowed dully. “No worries.”

  “We’ll share some bread and feed the horses, but then we’re off again.”

  Henry asked, “Can I ride with Eleanor now?”

  Alec made a face. “You can ask.” His gaze stayed with Katie.

  Katie tilted her head at him. “How is it that when you are in the midst of a battle, using two hands on two weapons, your horse knows what to do?”

  He didn’t answer immediately, his attention caught for a moment—once again—with how beautiful she was. Injured, bedraggled, drenched with rain, her hair flattened against her head and molded to her shoulder and chest, she was still remarkably lovely. Her blue eyes were clear, showed only curiosity, not any of her usual angst, and he was sure he knew not one person with skin as milky soft as hers.

  “At the beginning of the fight, when they first came from the trees?” She prodded when his answer was delayed by his gawking.

  Distraction, he thought. She was uncomfortable with his stare.

  “Aye,” he said and shook himself mentally. “You ken the legs then do all the work. The horse kens a knee pressed hard on the right says move left, kens two legs squeezed around him means stop, a quick kick of the heels jumps him forward. Long, steady pressure of the heels tells him to canter.”

  “How long does that take, to train a horse to know and do all that?”

  “Many months, actually. At Swordmair, we’ve three men, the horse trainers, and that’s all they do, constantly training war horses, from foal to full-grown. A soldier is nothing without a shrewd and powerful destrier beneath him.”

  “How old is your horse?” Henry asked without lifting his face from his chore.

  “He’s three now, almost four mayhap.”

  “How do I tie this, Mam?”

  He’d come to the end of the linen, the strip having been wrapped many times around Katie’s narrow shoulder. She turned and considered the end of the fabric held in Henry’s small hands.

  “Take the end and rip it straight up, trying to score it right up the middle.”

  He tried, likely having recalled that he’d seen his mother do the very same thing time and again, that his method was correct, but that he was young yet and not strong enough to actually tear the fabric.

  “Here,” Alec said, stepping forward. He went to one knee beside her, which put them eye level and took the linen from Henry. With one tug, he stripped the end into two pieces and passed one part under her arm to tie it at the top.

  She swallowed visibly, a reaction to his proximity, he imagined, but otherwise held herself very still.

  Alec lifted the cut end of the strap of her kirtle. “Shall I knot this together as well?”

  She nodded, dropping her face from him that a quick glance showed her lashes sweeping low on her cheeks.

  He was an arse, he knew, didn’t know why he always felt the need to irk her, but couldn’t resist asking, “Are you thinking about offering that invitation just now?” He took his time joining the two ends of her kirtle strap, letting his fingers touch the bare and cool skin of her upper arm.

  To her credit, she didn’t jerk her gaze to him, showing the irritation he surely courted, but stayed very still and wondered, “How did I know you might suggest that very thing?”

  “Och, lass,
dinna tell me I’ve become predictable so soon.”

  “Are you done?”

  “Aye. For now.” He raised himself off his knee, only then becoming aware of her fists, clenched so severely in her lap. This, he understood, all that coiled...whatever it was, whenever she was near.

  Chapter Eight

  They rode then through the night, something they certainly could not have done if they’d been further south. Still, the wet paths and trails made for a slow go that the sun was risen several hours before they stepped foot onto MacBriar land.

  By this time, since Henry had woken much earlier, Alec was sure the boy had made conversation with each and every MacBriar along the way, though most of his attention was usually given to Elle, who proved more stalwart than most in her ability to ignore the boy, and who did, as suspected, deny him a ride. When Malcolm had abandoned the wagon and returned to his steed this morning, declaring himself fit, Henry had begged to ride with him, which had left Katie Oliver mostly to the mercy and conversation of Fergus, driving the wagon. After a while though, Fergus was forced to slow as Boswell was following close enough to suggest he was tired of loping about. The hound joined Katie inside the bed of the wagon, stretching out on his belly, likely sleeping almost instantly.

  Having tried his powerful best to avoid Katie Oliver throughout the night and this morning, Alec was then not witness to her reaction at seeing Swordmair for the first time. Alec had traveled to a number of great cities and even to the northern reaches of England on occasion, but he thought there wasn’t a more magnificent sight than Swordmair with its four tall towers and expansive courtyard rising above the mist of Loch Choire. Its backdrop was the mountains of Beinn Clìbric, shrouded in a dozen shades of green, the gray sky kneeling upon its peak. Before the castle, beyond a great field of rock and thistle, dotted only sparsely with a half dozen cottages, a long bridge sat atop four arched piers of stone, wide enough to accommodate horses six abreast, stretched over the shallow loch. Never was the water so blue than here, he thought, filled suddenly with a wistfulness for home, glad to have finally arrived.