Her Highland Rogue: A Wild Highland Guardian Novel (8 page)

The MacKenzies had not been pleased when Laird MacRae didn’t join them in the great hall yesterday. But Errol followed his sire’s advice, and with little trouble had the five men drinking heavily and singing songs within a couple hours. Always able to drink most men under the table, Errol hadn’t neglected his duties. He’d raised a dozen cups in salute to their allies, reveling in the knowledge that he’d avoided an unhappy union with a MacKenzie by choosing Aileana. And now, just minutes away from escorting her to the feast to witness his father’s announcement of their betrothal, his heart thundered in anticipation.

Leaning against one of the stone columns at the entrance to the hall, he appraised the preparations. All the servants had worked through the night. Banners of the MacRae tartan decorated the walls. Ribbons of the same colors—green, red, and blue—were tied to the dozens of brass candle stands. His father had demanded nothing but the best, wax tapers in every holder, French wine, and the silver plates and goblets usually reserved for the finest of celebrations. Errol approved—how many times did a man stand claim a bride?

He appreciated the bouquets of dried flowers strewn about the hall in copper and silver vases, which he knew Aileana’s aunties were responsible for. Beyond his sire, Cameron, and Broc, the maids were the only ones who knew his secret. Tonight Errol would make all the women who’d dared to slander his future wife swallow their bitter words. Justice came in many forms, but at times he wished his father was more liberal about punishing the pecking hens in the kitchens. A tongue carved out of an evil mouth would put an immediate end to their wicked thoughts. For it wasn’t what a man put into his mouth that polluted his heart, it’s what came out of it.

He turned to the narrow stairs and sucked in a breath. The team of seamstresses employed at the keep had labored doubly hard to finish one of the silk gowns for Aileana. He’d dreamt of her in flowing sea green silk, her mane of fiery hair tumbling over her shoulders. She required no embellishments to look beautiful. Her smile alone could outshine the summer sun, her teeth like tiny pearls. But Errol would no sooner present her without gems around her neck than he would in homespun. He patted the leather pouch at his hip, where his mother’s Scottish pearl and ruby necklace was safely nestled.

As he stepped away from the hall, Broc appeared. They hadn’t spoken after the meeting in his father’s solar. Friends since childhood, it pained Errol to know that a woman had so easily changed things between them. But age brought different responsibilities, and he’d be damned if he ever let a female under the care of the MacRaes fall into the hands of any man who would only use her body to prove something.

Broc frowned.

“I thought my father sent you to check on the herd.”

“Aye,” he said. “Not one is missing.”

“Do you join the festivities tonight as a friend?”

Broc threw him a resentful look. “I enter the hall as I do on any other occasion, to fill my hungry stomach.”

“I canna allow you to cast a shadow over this celebration. Aileana is a free woman, and she chose me. Like it or no, she never would have accepted your suit. If you truly care for the lass, spare her feelings.”

“I make no promises,” Broc said.

“Then eat in the kitchens.”

“You’d have me sit with the women and lads?”

“Doona question me, Broc. I’ve reached my limit already.” He crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for the bearded giant to protest further.

When Broc turned away, Errol sighed with relief and made his way up the stairs. He had assigned a lady’s maid to Aileana this morning, hoping she’d accept the help of the woman. He understood Aileana’s self-doubt. She’d grown up as a servant. But as he looked back on her time here, it became clearer that she was raised in a household that taught her something about the ways of a respectable lady. The way she walked and talked, the fact that she could read and write, and her soft demeanor all suggested someone had loved her. Another mystery he planned on solving once they wed.

For now he accepted her as an orphan. Not a bastard, or foundling. He’d strangle the next unsuspecting fool that called her either one.

Arriving at her room, he knocked, then opened the door. Standing in front of her dressing table, Aileana was surrounded by her maid and aunties, who praised the way she looked. Edme acknowledged his presence first, curtsying with a smile.

“Master Errol is here,” she whispered to Aileana.

She nodded, then turned around slowly. At a loss for words, Errol’s admiring gaze swept over her. The French style gown revealed a little more than he’d like the MacKenzies to see, the creamy flesh between her generous breasts begging for his touch. Half sleeves trimmed with lace showed off more silky skin. A perfect match for the ethereal figure he’d seen in his dream. He now knew how fortunate he was. She couldn’t be more priceless if she were dusted with gold and silver.

“Turn around slowly,” he said.

She did.

A chain of delicate silver flowers had been embroidered along the border of the bodice, and across the back of her dress. Folds of silk formed a trailing train, and he wondered, as his cock responded so enthusiastically to her tiny body, how she’d look relieved of every stich of fabric she had on.

“You’re beautiful, lass.” He edged closer, and the maids Edme and Margot rushed to get out of his way. “Now face me again and lift the hem of your gown so I can see your slippers.” Even her silken shoes were embroidered with silver flowers. It pleased him. “Do ye like your gown?”

She stared up at him, a mixture of emotions on her pretty face. “I do. Thank you.”

“There’s more to come, lass. And if I have anything to say about it, you’ll own dozens of pretty dresses soon enough.” He turned to Margot. “Your kindness will never be forgotten,” he said. “Now leave us. I have things to say to the lass before we go belowstairs together.”

“Aye, milord.” Margot led the women out of the room.

As soon as they were alone, Errol took Aileana’s hand, flipped it over, and kissed her tender palm. “I’ve waited forever to taste you again.” He tugged her into his arms, slanting his mouth over hers, in the moment caring little for what she wanted. His body thundered with unanswered need. And the sweet fragrance in her hair did little to relieve it. “You taste of everything pure and sweet in this tired world,” he said, his tongue thrusting between her lips again.

As shy and innocent as Aileana was, she possessed an insatiable curiosity that made her unafraid of physical contact. He could smell her excitement, feel it in her trembling fingers that gripped his arms. Some of the most experienced women he’d bedded never found joy between the covers. But Aileana’s natural responses promised untold pleasure. How loud would she scream his name on their wedding night? How deep would her fingernails dig into his skin when he pumped inside her wet core?

He slipped an arm around her waist, anchoring her to his body. Let the heat and desire boiling underneath his skin infect her, too. “I’ll have my answer.” He tilted her chin upward so he could look her directly in the eyes. “Doona make me wait any longer, Aileana.”

Bold blue eyes studied him in silence. How mistaken she was to think all she possessed was pride. She’d demonstrated strength and courage already. And the respect and love she showed to the two women who’d raised her. He’d seen enough to believe she’d make an excellent mother. The thought of filling her with his seed and watching a life he’d help make grow inside her belly made him growl. He gripped her hips while he brushed his lips across hers. One taste would never be enough.

“Tell me,” he demanded gruffly.

“Aye,” she said. “I accept your offer.”

The words hit him hard. His heart leapt with joy, and his cock throbbed with lust. For the first time in his life someone would belong to him.
Mine,
he thought; all the desperation and possessiveness he’d been wrestling with since the day he joined her in the cave and rediscovered her beauty came out. Their kiss deepened into something as potent as fire. Her body quivered against his. And without thinking, he ground into her, his manhood ready to put those wild feelings into action. He wanted to get lost inside her. Win her tender heart. Dominate her thoughts. Taste her. And if God would bless their union, love her until he drew his last breath.

“Please…” She retreated a step, panting and looking confused.

“ ’Tis all right, lass. Our bodies want to be joined. Nothing is more natural or telling. What you felt between my legs is my way of showing you how I feel. What your presence does to me.”

“It is hard as stone,” she said, taking a quick peek at his tartan-wrapped hips.

“And as long and wide as a log.” Curse his arrogance. “I am sorry.”

She tilted her head, then a slow smile spread across her face. “Ye aren’t the first man I’ve heard brag about that part of his body.”

The idea of another man speaking that way in front of her infuriated him. He closed the distance between them. “But I shall be the last.”

“Yes.”

He grunted with approval and then reached inside his pouch. “Before we join my father in the great hall, I wish to give you this.” He let the treasured memory of his mother dangle in front of her, the faceted rubies reflecting the light from the wall torches.

Aileana gasped and reached out, two fingers touching the necklace reverently. “You mustn’t be so generous with me.”

“Yer mistaken, sweet one.” He opened the clasp, then stepped around her. “Lift your hair for me.”

When he had an unobstructed view of the back of her slim neck, he couldn’t resist the urge to blow gently on her skin. She shivered. How he wished he could kiss her there, over and over again. Once he fastened the necklace, she let her hair fall back in place.

“Let us both look in the mirror together,” he suggested.

She gazed at the necklace’s reflection. “ ’Tis the loveliest thing I have ever seen.”

Oh, how he disagreed. But deep in his heart Errol knew it would take patience and love to help build Aileana’s confidence. She had no idea how beautiful she was or how men reacted to her. He’d seen it endless times in the great hall. Warriors and servants alike watching her walk or staring while she bent over to retrieve something off the floor.
Cowards.
Not one had the courage to claim her. Well, he refused to be counted amongst them any longer. Aileana MacRae belonged to him now. And if someone wished to challenge her honor, he’d be more than happy to defend her.

As Aileana admired the beautiful necklace about her neck, she wondered if she truly deserved the honor Errol had so generously bestowed upon her. Just before he came to her room, she’d hidden the chain Sgùrr had given her, fearing if anyone discovered it, they’d question her. For a kitchen maid could never afford something so expensive, especially one with no family. But as Errol’s wife, perhaps one day she could wear the ship pendant openly. And protect Sgùrr.

“What is it, lass?”

She turned around. “I am thinking of Sgùrr.”

He frowned. “Why concern yourself with the witch on a night such as this?”

“Because she foretold my future correctly—promised I would find peace and love.”

His mood lightened. “Is that what you’ve found?” He tugged her into his arms. “Do you love me, Aileana?”

How he liked to trap her with her own thoughts. “I-I…”

“No need to answer me now, lass. Time will reveal the truth, whether ye want it to or not.”

“Aye,” she agreed. But time also worked against people. She’d experienced that firsthand. The longer she lived amongst the MacRaes, the deeper the suspicion surrounding her history was.

“Are ye ready to go belowstairs?”

She’d rather face a roomful of MacRaes and MacKenzies than spend too much time alone with Errol. Her body still tingled with desire. She met his intense gray gaze, wondering what he truly felt. Could she trust his enthusiasm, believe that his feelings had grown so deep within such a short span of time? Or was he doing his best to comfort her so their marriage stood a chance? “Command me, milord,” she said with a smile.

Errol sucked in a breath, then laid the mirror on her dressing table. He offered his arm, and she held on tight as he opened the door. They walked down the hallway together.

“Once we enter the great hall, my father will share the good news. A toast will follow. We will greet the MacKenzies together. There is no need to speak if ye don’t wish to. Smile and curtsy, and I will move us quickly down the high table. Once we finish with our honored guests, we will share the special moment with the household. All the servants have been summoned. My father intends to put an end to the cruel gossip you’ve suffered from in the kitchens.”

He made it sound so simple. But she knew better. The women might appear respectful in front of the laird, but once he was gone…She swallowed nervously as they descended, the narrow stairs the last walk she’d take in her old life. As they entered the area just outside the hall, Aileana noted the wall torches had been doubled. Four guards were stationed at the archway. Music sounded from within, laughter echoing off the stone walls. It had been a long while since she’d heard such cheer.

She curled her toes in her silk slippers, wishing she could run away. But Errol held her hand and gazed at her.

“ ’Tis nothing new,” he commented. “Yer accustomed to a crowded hall.”

“Hiding behind platters and pitchers of ale.”

He grinned. “Shall I have a trencher of meat delivered before we go in?”

His humor and smile helped calm her. “And risk ruining this lovely gown?” She shook her head, searching for the courage that often came and went without warning. “I will be fine.”

“Aye,” he said, his eyes darkening. “I have faith in you, sweetest Aileana.”

Head held high, she allowed Errol to lead her across the threshold. As soon as they entered, the music died, and all eyes were quickly upon them. Aileana swore she could hear her own heartbeat in the following moments of silence. Laird MacRae, looking frail but happy, stood with his cup raised.

“Welcome my son, Errol,” he said. “And my daughter—Lady Aileana will soon be wed to the future laird.”

Lady Aileana?
Never had she thought such a title would have been given to her. Her gaze swept the farthest reaches of the hall, finding the kitchen maids lined up along the back wall. Margot and Edme smiled at her, their faces full of pride. How she wished they were standing beside her.

“What game are you playing, MacRae?” The dark-haired laird too big for any chair frightened Aileana. “Why did you not tell me your son had chosen a bride?” John MacKenzie’s voice thundered. “I am a man with too many daughters. This news will break their hearts.”

“And risk your interference?” Laird MacRae said. “ ’Twouldn’t be the first time a MacKenzie attempted to stop a MacRae wedding.”

“Aye,” the MacKenzie agreed, “but ’twould be the first time we kidnapped a laird’s son.” He raised his own cup in salute, his deep-bellied laughter providing some relief for Aileana. “Don’t hang in the shadows, girl. Come forward, let me see the lovely lass that has outdone my flesh and blood.”

“The laird wishes to meet ye,” Errol whispered. He slowly walked her to the high table.

Once she was standing before John MacKenzie, Errol stepped back.

John grunted as he assessed her. “I’ve heard it said redheads are either violent or false. Which are you?”

Aileana shifted on her feet, not liking his question. A simple greeting would have sufficed.

“Both…” a feminine voice called from across the room.

Gasps sounded, and Aileana felt the blood drain from her face. All her doubts were justified. She knew that voice, Muriel, but refused to point her out. The fact that the girl would risk her position to humiliate her in front of the MacKenzies showed how deeply her hatred ran.

Laird MacRae grimaced, then turned, pointing in the direction from whence the comment came. “Who dares speak out of turn?”

Aileana stared in the same direction as the laird.

“This wicked one.” Edme pushed Muriel forward. “Seems the wench had her sights set on Master Errol.”

Men in the crowd laughed.

“What right do you have to insult Lady Aileana?” the laird questioned her.

When she didn’t answer, he gestured at one of his guards standing nearby. “Bring the girl.”

Seeing Aileana’s shame, Errol gripped her hand. “Worry not, sweet one, my father will deal justly with her.”

She nodded, but knew this was just the beginning of the trouble her union with Errol would cause. Bastards had no place at the high table, nor in Errol’s bed as his wife.

Muriel raised her chin defiantly as the guard dragged her across the room.

“Have you anything to say in your own defense?” Laird MacRae asked.

“No, milord.”

“This isn’t the first time you’ve targeted Lady Aileana, is it?”

Muriel looked at Aileana and pursed her pretty mouth, her face full of venom. “Nor can I promise it will be the last.”

Aileana had to resist the urge to run away—once again tempted to seek refuge in the mountains.

Laird MacKenzie tugged on his beard. “I meant no disrespect to Lady Aileana,” he started. “I wanted to measure her sense of humor. For a man can lose himself in the beauty of his young wife, but it’s her laughter that will see you through the years.”

“Aye,” Errol said. “And under normal circumstances, my betrothed would rise to the occasion.”

“What punishment have you chosen for this spiteful wench?” John asked.

Laird MacRae eyed Muriel. “You grew up under my protection—enjoying the comfort of serving in my household. Your father is a good soldier, and your mother was my cousin. What would she say if she were standing here, a witness to your pitiful jealousy?”

For a moment, it appeared humility had set in, for Muriel lowered her eyes, staring at the floor. “I apologize for disrespecting ye, milord. You have been generous. But as a MacRae…” She looked up again. “Is it not my right to speak freely if I feel someone threatens the honor of this clan?”

Laird MacRae sighed. “It is.”

“Then I am doing my duty.”

“No,” Errol interjected. “Do you take us for fools? Your only purpose is to create dissension amongst the women. The Almighty warns seven things are an abomination: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked plans, feet that make haste to run to evil, a false witness who breathes out lies, and one who sows discord among brothers. Yer nearly all of these things.”

The hall was deathly quiet.

“Milord…” Muriel pleaded.

Laird MacRae held up his hand. “Enough.” He gave her a hard look. “Take this woman outside, whip her soundly, then let her sleep in the stables. In the morning, send her away.”

The guard gripped her arm. “B-but my father…” she said.

“He is on patrol,” the laird said. “I will send word.”

Aileana watched with gratitude as the girl was escorted from the hall. Then she turned to Laird MacRae. “Thank you, sir. He won’t be too harsh?”

“Only enough to teach the lass to hold her tongue. You’ve always been more like a daughter to me,” he said. “And now, in the eyes of God and the law, ye are.” Once again he raised his cup. “Join me in congratulating my son on his upcoming nuptials. A man is half a man until he finds his lady love.”

“To Master Errol and Lady Aileana,” the crowd said in unison.

A servant offered Aileana a cup, and she took a deep drink, finding the potent wine exactly what she needed to relax. The music started again, and it seemed her moment of deep shame had passed.

“Now come and take your rightful place next to me,” Laird MacKenzie said. “I fully intend to hear the answer to my question.”