Dangerous Pride (31 page)

“I did no’ realize yer responsibilities as laird extended to serving as my maid,” she laughed, hoping he wouldn’t notice the pulse that throbbed fiercely in her throat.  His intense gaze unsettled her, and suddenly the bath water didn’t seem so cool after all.

Walking over to the bed, Lachlan tossed down the pile of clothing he had been carrying.  After some consideration, he selected an item from the pile, and returned to her side.  “I am always at yer service, lass,” he purred, placing a kiss at the base of her throat.  “Day or night.”

He brushed her lips with a kiss that was so tender she could hardly believe her good fortune – that this, indeed, was the man she had married. “Sorcha was needed in the kitchen, and I promised her I would help you with yer bath.  I think she near choked at the thought of leaving you alone with me, but I left her little choice.”

Pushing himself to his feet, he stretched out a large piece of toweling, motioning for her to step up from the tub.  She hesitated the barest moment before doing so, feeling slightly unnerved by the thorough inspection he gave her body as the water sluiced off her skin.  With a carnal look in his eyes, he bent down to wrap her in the towel, scooping her up in his arms.  Pausing only to place a kiss on her hair, he carried her over to a chair near the hearth.  Sitting back, he settled her in his lap, tenderly toweling the moisture from her body.  “I love that fragrance, lass,” he whispered in her ear as he tenderly dried her skin.  “It would seem that I canna get enough.  Of the fragrance, I mean,” he joked, gently worrying her earlobe between his strong, even teeth.

Her eyes twinkling, Catriona snuggled into his lap, eliciting a groan of desire from her husband.  “I had no idea you had such a fondness for heather, my lord,” she teased, rubbing her backside provocatively against the proof of his desire.

“You best no’ be starting aught you canna finish, lass,” he growled playfully.  He pulled back to examine her expression more closely.  “How are you feeling, really?” he asked, concern shining in his eyes as he studied her carefully.

Catriona loosened her grip on the towel, letting it fall to her waist as she placed her arms around her husband’s neck.  She felt a surge of satisfaction as she saw his gaze riveted on her firm breasts.  “I feel fine – quite wonderful, in fact.  I have been given the gift of a second chance at this marriage, and I do no’ intend to waste it.”  Playfully, she nipped at his strong jaw, noting with delight how he shifted uncomfortably beneath her.

“Are you sure, lass?” he asked finally, raising her chin so that he could look deeply into her emerald eyes.

“Completely,” she replied, slipping her hand beneath his kilt to prove just how fine she really was.

###

Lachlan could barely believe his good fortune.  In the span of a few short days, his entire life had been completely turned around.  He had gone from the depths of despair, thinking his wife had deserted him, to incredible joy as he had shared in the awakening of her passionate nature.

It was true that neither he nor Catriona had come willingly to their marriage, but he was beginning to think that some powerful force – far wiser than himself – had seen the wisdom of uniting them.  Certainly, in the days that had followed her kidnapping, he had come to see Catriona as a woman who was not only beautiful, but intelligent and kindhearted, as well.  When she let down her guard, and opened her heart to him, he had begun to see her for the woman she truly was, and he felt himself lucky beyond measure to have her for his own.  Just a few weeks before, he would have settled for a wife who was willing to be in his presence without manipulating or rejecting him.  And now – having discovered the passionate nature of the woman whom he’d had the good fortune to marry – the difficult, trying days of their marriage had faded into memory.

If their kinsmen were aware that anything had changed between their laird and his wife, they were too polite to comment on it.  His mother couldn’t have been happier, he reflected, smiling at the recollection of her obvious look of relief and happiness when she had seen all was right between the couple.

Every moment he hadn’t spent with his bride, Lachlan had spent meeting with Rory and his men, discussing their plans for dealing with Calum Leslie.  Iain had sent word that Calum had not been seen at Boyne for several weeks.  Though his brother-in-law suspected the man had taken to the hillsides with his remaining followers, hiding and waiting for the right time to strike again, the Earl of Seafield was less certain.  Catriona’s father said the man had sent word that he was visiting kin near Glasgow, and that he would not be returning for some time.

Despite the older man’s refusal to accept the threat Leslie posed to the tenuous peace between the clans – and the safety to himself and his kin – Iain and Lachlan had worked together to ensure that these risks were minimized.  Regular patrols had been organized in the area, and visitors to both holdings were now given much less freedom than before.  Iain, Lachlan and Catriona went nowhere without a well-armed escort.  For now, Lachlan felt content that all necessary precautions were being taken, but he wasn’t willing to let his guard down.  The risks were simply too high.

He wouldn’t fail a second time.

Given what Calum had told Catriona, they knew it was only a matter of time before he struck again.  His insane obsession with taking control of what was not his made such an attack inevitable.

Catriona herself showed few signs of having suffered from her ordeal.  What few spare minutes she’d had to herself – and they had been quite limited, he admitted to himself with a sly grin – she had spent in the planning of the school she was still set on creating for the keep’s children.  Though he appreciated her need to have something of her own at Tolquhon, he doubted that her interest in the school would last very long.  Soon enough she would have bairns of her own to care for, and there would be little time for much else.  It was possible that his seed had already taken hold, and that she might already carry his child.  If not, it certainly had not been for lack of trying.

The thought of a son or daughter of his own blood sent a thrill coursing through Lachlan.  He’d never given much thought to bairns before, but somehow the thought of a child that was his and Catriona’s, a child to inherit all that he had worked so hard to build and protect, filled him with inexplicable longing.

Rory smiled to himself as he leaned over the heavy oak table in Lachlan’s study, noting that once again, his laird was lost in his thoughts.  Since they had returned to the keep with Catriona safely in tow, Lachlan had been a different man.  Whatever had transpired between them was made of powerful stuff, Rory knew, for his laird was in a better frame of mind than he’d ever seen before.

“…And then, after we have stormed the castle at Stirling, we will take the throne from Queen Anne, and we shall crown Quinton here King of the Scots.  What say you, Lachlan?” he asked, his playful scowl silently commanding the men who watched in stunned silence to hold their tongues.

“What?  Er…I’m sorry, Rory,” Lachlan sputtered, embarrassed to have been caught woolgathering.  “I’m sure that will be just fine.”

Rory no longer attempted to stall the men’s amusement, and a sheepish grin crossed their laird’s face as he acknowledged his distraction.  “It would seem that my attention has come to its end, lads,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet.  “We’ll talk again on the morrow, but for now, yer time is yer own,” he said, gesturing to the door.  “But you – you can stay,” he growled, pointing a menacing finger at Rory.

As the men departed on a wave of good-natured ribbing, Lachlan directed Rory to a chair near the fire.  The summer days were warm enough in the Highlands, but the cold stone walls of the castle rarely warmed enough to keep the inhabitants comfortable without the requisite peat fires in the hearths.  Rory declined the whiskey Lachlan offered him, instead settling comfortably in the plush chair.

“I’m no’ sure how much longer I will be content playing this game of wait and see,” Lachlan said, anxious to focus on the dilemma that consumed him.  “The more time that passes before Calum Leslie takes the next step, the more uncomfortable I become.  I would much rather face the bastard on the field, in combat, than play this ridiculous game.  The stakes are too high.”

Rory nodded his agreement, his brow furrowed in thought. “I would sleep better myself if I thought Seafield was on our side.  As it is, the old man still seems besotted with Leslie.  His own son has no’ been able tae convince him the man is a threat.”

“It has no’ been for lack of trying, Rory.  Iain and his father have been at odd for years.  Since the Earl started to fail, he’s been desperate to make everyone believe he is still in control.  It’s almost as if he thinks that if he includes Iain in any significant way, he’ll cease to be the laird.  If it is no’ Leslie giving him advice, he will no’ listen.”

“Yer father-by-marriage is a foolish old man, but one I would rather count as friend than foe.”

Lachlan stared at his battered hand, an all too powerful reminder of what could happen when a man’s hunger for power obscured any sense of reason or honor.  “We’ll give it a few weeks, but naught more.  I will have this resolved – one way or another.  I will no’ have the man who stole my wife go without punishment. 
My
honor won’t allow it.”

###

Catriona sat on a stool in the kitchen, a mug of tea clutched in her hands as she listened to Mairi describe the menu she had planned for the evening meal.  She offered a few suggestions, but left the woman’s plans largely unchanged.  Mairi had been feeding the hungry appetites at Tolquhon Castle for longer than Catriona had  been alive, and there was little reason for her to meddle in the older woman’s realm.

In truth, she rarely visited the kitchen for any reason other than a chance to enjoy Mairi’s company.

“If ye do no’ mind my sayin’ so, lass, ye seem tae be gettin’ on just fine with the laird now,”  Mairi observed slyly, pausing as she stirred the soup that simmered above the fire.  “My Quinton says he has ne’er seen the laird happier, and he thinks we have ye tae thank for it.”

Shyly Catriona raised her gaze, her deep green eyes full of questions. “Did Quinton really say that?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper as she peered around the busy room, nervously looking for any servants who might be eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Aye, that he did, my lady.  I’m glad the two of ye have found a peace between ye.  That is the trouble when people marry for alliances, ye ken.  Ye do no’ have a chance tae know each other proper afore yer wed.  But then, ye and the laird have kent each other since ye were bairns, so ye have a better chance than most for a happy life together.”

Again, Catriona’s eyes were shaded.  The thought that Lachlan might be as happy with their marriage as she was warmed her heart.  Still, the bond they had forged was too new and too fragile for her to want to talk of it with others.  Anxious to change the subject, Catriona looked around the room for a sign of Mairi’s grandson.  “Where is Niall today?” she asked, knowing of the older woman’s limitless affection for the lad.  Though Catriona’s plans for the school were coming together more slowly than she would have liked, that hadn’t stopped her from helping the youngster begin to work on learning his letters.  Niall was a bright, happy child, and he was already showing a great capacity for learning.  As the son of a serving lass, it was unlikely he would see much formal training, but Catriona was sure there was much she could teach him that would benefit him throughout his life.

“He went with Fiona tae visit some kin in Dumbreck,” Mairi said as she checked on the sauce that was set to boil over the fire.  Reaching into the bubbling mixture with a spoon, she tasted it, shaking her head as she threw in a handful of the herbs that rested on the counter.  “They should be back in a few days, mayhap less, dependin’ on how much Fiona enjoys herself.”

“Well, I shall miss him.  I enjoy our lessons.  He’s such a polite, intelligent little boy, not to mention handsome.  When I see those grey eyes of his, I almost melt.”

Mairi quickly turned to hide the discomfort that was etched on her face.  “He’s a braw laddie, tae be sure mistress,” she replied as she wiped her hands on her apron.  “If ye’ll forgive me, I must be off to the buttery for a wee spell,” she mumbled, her footsteps hurried as she took her leave of the kitchen.

Pushing herself to her feet, Catriona left to see about her responsibilities for the day.  After stopping by her chamber for a shawl, she climbed the stairs to the third level of the castle.  It was in the bright, warm solar that the dowager liked to spend most of her days.  Though the older woman wasn’t particularly fond of reading, she enjoyed needlepoint, moreso after having given up on trying to improve Catriona’s skills.  Lachlan had ordered a desk delivered to the solar, so Catriona was able to write letters or work on lessons for the children while she and Lady Forbes passed the hours pleasantly.

When Catriona pushed open the heavy oak door to the room, she was disappointed to see that the dowager was not yet there.  Quickly she decided to take advantage of her solitude by answering a letter she had recently received from the abbey.  She had exchanged a handful of letters with the abbess since she had arrived at Tolquhon, and was anxious to share the news that all was well with her new marriage.

Pulling paper, a quill and ink from the top drawer, Catriona set about choosing the words to begin her letter.  Her desk was at the edge of the room, in front of a tall glass window that looked down upon the garden.  It was a lovely view, and Catriona absently taped the pen against her chin as the beautiful surroundings slowly inspired her.

She had almost finished when she heard the door swing open, and the sound of heavy footsteps coming into the room.  Turning, her face reflected her undisguised delight when she realized it was her husband.  Crossing the room in quick, sure strides, he pulled her from the chair for a deep, passionate kiss that stole the air from her lungs.  Catriona was breathless when he finally loosened his embrace, desire shining in his deep grey eyes as he stared down at her flushed features.  “I was hoping you would be alone,” he smiled, caressing her back as her drew her closer to him.