Highland Hellcat (2010) (21 page)

Brina was grateful for it today. She longed for a bath and suddenly understood why some religious orders shunned washing as a luxury. Just looking at the clear water in the tub felt good; having it glide along her skin was going to be decadent.

One of the women pulled the blue overgown from her, and there was a soft sound of surprise from the woman standing behind her. Brina turned to see what had startled her, only to hear another gasp from the woman in front of her. She turned back around but found both women looking at the back of her underrobe.

“Well, it’s good to know that ye have settled matters between the laird and yerself.”

Maura reached out and plucked the back of her gown up between her fingers. Brina turned to see that the light blue fabric was stained dark brown for a good foot. The head of house flicked her fingers at the woman in front of Brina, and the gown was whisked up and over her head in a moment. The head of house handed the garment over to another maid before she reached forward and boldly wiped the top of Brina’s thigh with the linen cloth that was waiting to dry her after her bath.

Brina jumped, but Maura held up the fabric, making sure that the light streaming in through the open windows illuminated it. She gave a satisfied grunt before turning it to show each woman in the room.

There were suddenly smiles around the room, and the women hurried to make sure that the waiting bath was perfect. They dipped their fingers into the water to check the temperature and moved the drying rack closer toward the hearth to ensure that the underrobe she would wear after bathing was cozy.

“Karen, send down to the cook and tell her to make supper special.”

“That is nae necessary.”

Brina might as well have saved her breath, for Karen lowered herself and was out of the door before she finished protesting. The maid’s steps echoed down the hallway with a pace that spoke of the woman’s excitement. It wouldn’t take long for her to spread the word throughout Birch Stone that the laird had consummated his union.

“Let’s get ye bathed, mistress, for I’m sure ye’ll want to be getting on to church before the day grows much older.”

It could be that simple.

Brina tumbled that idea over and over inside her mind while she was bathed from her head to her toes. She was too preoccupied by her thoughts to protest.

Oh aye, simple, because she had only to turn her back on her duty to her father. The problem was, she was beginning to see staying at Birch Stone as an option.

***

Father Luke-Paul was waiting for him. Connor saw the man standing in the arched doorway of the church. The priest had his hands tucked into the wide sleeves of his robe while he stood as still as one of the carved statues that adorned the inner sanctuary.

Connor lowered himself to one knee at the threshold but didn’t linger there. He pushed back up to his full height while Luke-Paul surveyed him.

“I made it plain that I plan to wed the lass from the moment I took her.”

The priest’s eyes narrowed slightly, showing that he didn’t care for the arrogance in Connor’s tone. Connor didn’t lower his head. He wasn’t sure that he could feign any sort of remorse for the fact that he’d had Brina before they took the blessing of the church, for he wasn’t sorry.

Not one bit.

But he was thankful.

Luke-Paul frowned. “That is a truth. I will have to compose a lecture for yer bride on the merits of nae arguing against God’s will.”

“I did steal her, Father.”

There was a faint flicker of amusement in the priest’s eyes that didn’t change his expression. “Ye are both Scottish, and that is a common enough practice. I will hear yer confession.”

He turned and led the way into the sanctuary, saving Connor from upsetting the man further with the grin that split his lips. It was cocky, to be sure, and no doubt Luke-Paul would have felt the need to compose a lecture for him on the ideals of virtue if he had seen it.

Connor didn’t care. He’d sit through any sermon the man deemed necessary, for he did not regret claiming Brina.

Her cries of delight still echoed inside his head, and they stirred a need to curse the sun for not making its way across the sky faster. He was as impatient as a newly tried lad to get back beneath her skirts, his cock stirring beneath his kilt to throb with need.

It was more than lust. He felt that truth even as he knelt in submission to the church and began his confession. His words were disjointed because his mind was not on the matter of his soul and its position in the afterlife. Instead he was focused on the bride he wanted to learn more about.

But for a man of the church, Father Luke-Paul held more knowledge than any celibate should. The priest drew out the confession and announced a penance that was going to take a fair amount of time to complete. Connor ground his teeth but nodded.

Bugger it.

***

Connor was on his knees when Brina entered the church doorway.

The sight stunned her, and she stood in place, her eyes adjusting to the dim interior of the sanctuary.

He was not a man who knelt easily…

She couldn’t stop the rise of her own pride in response. Oh, it was surely pride, because what else could she call the enjoyment she gained from knowing that such a powerful man was attempting to satisfy the church so that he might wed her?

He might have doubled his offering to the priest or promised to build something for the church with the labor owed to him by his clan members. Such was the normal practice for lairds who stole brides. A bartering of material things before the church gave its blessing in spite of any obstacles that might have impeded the union.

Instead Connor Lindsey, laird of some of the fiercest Highlanders in Scotland, was on his knees while a priest watched from an alcove.

It brought tears to her eyes because it was more sincere than any words he might have uttered could ever have been. A man might say many things when he was intent on seduction, but how he conducted himself after he had won the victory he sought spoke much about his true nature.

Connor Lindsey was truly a man of honor. That was such a rare thing. Many men claimed it, fought over it, but in truth they only maintained their noble facade when there was someone about to offer them attention for it. Here in the dimly lit pews, there was only a priest who would keep his silence in accordance with his vows on just how the laird gained his absolution.

Connor was doing his penance, just as any man beneath his authority would have instead of using his position to force the priest to marry them.

Aye, he had honor, and it made her proud to know that he considered her worthy of being his bride.

From behind her, a bell began to ring, and very quickly after that a second and third joined in. Connor jerked, jumping to his feet and turning in a swirl of Lindsey plaid. He froze when his gaze settled on her, surprise taking command of his features for a brief moment before more bells joined the ringing. He covered the distance between them with long strides.

“Go into the tower, lass, until I discover who is at my gate.”

Fear tore through her, the distaste in his voice shattering her fascination with discovering him in the church.

She reached out, clutching at his forearm. Her action surprised him, bringing him to a standstill when she was sure that nothing else might have distracted him from his duty to protect his clan against whoever was riding toward Birch Stone.

Horror threatened to choke her while images of her father and other members of her clan lying bloodied in the snow rose up to torment her. Being inside Birch Stone would give the Lindsey an advantage that would see many of her kin dead if not all of them, if it was her father approaching.

“My father is a good man.” She forced the words past lips that threatened to tremble and reduce her to a weeping weakling at his feet.

More than one stolen bride had discovered that the only way to keep her kin from being cut down when they came to protest her abduction was to wed her captor, looking willing and contented in spite of the circumstances.

“I refused to return home without ye, Brina, because I want an alliance with the Chattan. It isna a feud that I’m looking to begin.”

He covered her hand with his larger one, offering her a firm squeeze before he lifted her fingers off his arm and looked past her toward his men.

“Take her into the tower and keep her there, lads.”

***

Brina realized she had never truly known fear.

Not a single time in her entire life. Every minute felt as long as an hour. Connor’s men took her to the tower, but she refused to go any farther than the doors. The retainers looked at her and then at one another, but the older one shrugged and leaned up against the wall, content to allow her to remain where she was because it would satisfy what their laird had ordered them to do.

“Mistress? Come into the hall. Better not to dwell on matters that men must tend to.”

Maura’s voice held a measure of kindness that didn’t soothe her. Brina walked across the width of the tower, then stopped at one of the windows that had its wooden shutters open to allow fresh air inside. She wasn’t high enough to see out of the inner castle, but she could see that the gate was lowered to seal off the inner yard. Voices came from the hall behind her, telling her that most of the inhabitants had crossed through that gate to take shelter in the tower farthest from the approaching riders when the bells had rung. She could hear children and women behind her, and in spite of the fact that they were keeping their voices low, the number of them made the hall quite noisy.

She turned and walked across the length of the tower until she could see out a window on the opposite side. Now she had a view of the church. The large double doors that had always been open were now shut, and every window was covered with thick wooden shutters.

“We’ve no way of knowing who is coming up the hill, mistress. Save yer worry for a time when there is clear trouble.”

Maura stepped in front of her, refusing to allow her to pace back to the other window, but Brina was not in the mood to be bent beneath the woman’s greater experience.

“For all that yer laird has his honorable reasons for taking me, my father is equally bound by his integrity to object. Why am I the only one who can see this has the making of a feud that will only take lives that would be better used to make the future good for everyone. I cannae take my own happiness in such a manner.”

Maura lifted a hand to cover her lips, while her eyes filled with worry. She drew in a deep breath.

“Well then, I suppose ’tis a good thing that ye and the laird settled matters between ye last evening.”

“Settled?”

The head of house drew herself up and propped her hands onto her hips.

“I saw yer gown myself, and I’ll swear to the fact that ye are nae suffering yer courses. Ye were pure when ye went to his bed.”

Maura raised her voice, making sure that the men behind her heard every syllable. Brina’s face heated up as they nodded with approval.

“There will be an alliance, and if it is yer father out there, the laird will deal with him. I have faith in that. It’s in yer favor that ye think of others before yerself, but ye do nae know our laird very well yet. He will bring to us what he has promised. A bright future with an agreement with yer clan that will ensure peace.”

An alliance. Of course. That was her purpose. Brina turned and entered the great hall. She hesitated at the door as so many heads turned to her. Younger children peeked between the shoulders of the adults, while conversation died away. She forced herself forward, and a few of the older men reached up to tug on the corners of their bonnets, but they were few. Most of the Lindsey clan simply regarded her as a recent acquisition, one who would bring them what they wanted. Maura might call her “mistress,” but she was nothing of the sort.

She preferred it that way…

The image of Connor kneeling in the sanctuary surfaced in her mind, lending her the strength to make it to the end of the hall with a level chin. She would earn respect from the Lindseys or live without it. She heard Connor’s retainers following her, their boot heels making soft tapping sounds on the stone floor. Even when they masked their steps, she could see on the faces of those in front of her that they were trailing her.

Connor didn’t trust her, and yet the man had boldly demanded her trust last night. Frustration rose up, and it mixed with the fear still brewing inside her.

But what bothered her the most was the fact that she was growing very trusting of her captor. She might refuse to admit it to anyone else, but that did not change what she knew to be true.

A grinding sound began to echo through the hall, stopping Brina in her tracks. A hush settled over the inhabitants, which allowed them to hear the sound more clearly, and then laughter erupted all around her.

The inner gate was being raised, and relief washed over everyone except for Brina. She turned to watch those who had crowded onto the benches all heading out of the tower now that the threat had passed.

“Ye see there, mistress?” Maura smiled and she nodded. “All is well, and I’m right pleased to tell ye that the laird takes no chances on the well-being of his clan. He has that gate secured every time riders are sighted, just to make certain of that fact.”

“The raising of that gate does nae mean that my father is nae outside the walls.”

But it did mean that Connor wasn’t going to order his archers to let loose their arrows.

Once more the man was true to his word. Brina turned around and walked past the retainers set to guarding her.

Oh yes, Connor Lindsey did keep his word in so many ways. She was likely to go insane before the week’s end from the man’s persistent nature.

Or wed him…

“Mistress, ye’re to remain in the tower.”

The older of the men reached out and neatly hooked her forearm when she went to follow the other women out into the yard. His touch startled her, but more so because she had been so deep within her thoughts that she hadn’t taken notice of where she was going.