Highland Hope (Wild Thistle Triology Book 1) (19 page)

Heat radiated around her as he sent her senses soaring. She groaned as he grasped her buttocks, squeezed, then ground her to him. God, the sensations whipping through her body were near to overwhelming.

“Easy, lass.”

Hope pulled back and smiled. MacKerry matched her grin with a cocky one of his own. His eyes glowed in the early evening light as they tipped up in the corners. She reached for him again.

He chuckled against her mouth, then continued to ravish her as if he would die if he didn’t do otherwise.

“M’laird! M’laird!”

“I’m going to kill him,” MacKerry growled as he released Hope.

“Aye, Dougray. What are you havering about?” Hope inhaled to steady her breath and nerves as she quickly smoothed her hair and straightened her blouse.

The young man had just started training and was a mite shy of MacKerry’s height. Hope had plans for him, mostly due to his size, but also due to the ability to be a quick study.

He tipped his head in MacKerry’s direction, then addressed Hope. “There’s a problem, laird. Liam’s ranting and raving in the main hall.”

Dougray waited for a reaction with his hands clasped behind his back and his sense of calm gave more credit to his demeanor. Yet the brightness in his eyes and the heaving of his breath gave away his excitement.

“We’ll be right there,” she answered and sent him away.

“Go, I need to right myself.”

Hope searched Aidan’s face. He looked as if he were in pain, but when she took a step toward him, he held up a hand. “Nay,” he said with a rasp. “One more touch may kill me.”

Comprehension dawned on her and she rooted her mind for some witty retort, but was left with nothing. Instead of exposing herself as innocent in the matters of men, Hope merely left Aidan and headed toward the main hall.

“Thank the Lord, ye are here, laird,” Nora said as she approached.

Hope looked pointedly at her maid and said, “Don’t wander off, I’d like a word with you.”

Apprehension shifted over her features and Hope nearly took pity on the woman, but she banked the emotions and reminded herself she was laird and she needed to know all in order to rule.

Liam paced before the dais, his unsure footsteps swaggered his aged body in an unpredictable manner.

“I’m the one ye should be listening to!” he yelled. “I should be ruling yer worthless hides. No’ a woman.
A woman
.” He spat on the thatch rugs.

Hope stood back feeling out of sorts that the man would insult her before the entire clan, but also feeling sorry for him as well. He’d tried for years to turn the tide against her and failed. The failure must fester like a burr beneath a saddle.

“Ye’ll learn . . . she’s a traitor,” he slurred.

“He’s drunk,” Aidan whispered. “I’ll take care of him.”

She held up a hand and waited for one of Liam’s cohorts to come forward and stop the man from spouting such nonsense. None came forward.

“I’ll take care of him.” She strode toward him as if it were any other day. “Liam, come with me and I’ll fix you a drought.”

“Poison me, more likely.”

This he said in a thick slur of words and softly, as if he only wanted Hope to hear.

“Nay. I’d never hurt you.” She wrapped an arm around his shoulders, momentarily surprised at the sharp edges of his bones. When had the man become so frail? And why hadn’t she noticed before?

“To me chambers for a chastisement!” He winked at some of the men he passed and they chortled at his comment.

Saints preserve us, she silently prayed. “Aye, Liam. To your room to sleep off the drink.” This she said loudly as she escorted Liam out of the main hall. Despite the bones she felt beneath his skin, the man weighed more than he looked and with the loose limbs of a drunkard, ’twas nearly impossible to maneuver.

“M’laird, allow me to help.”

Aidan gently elbowed her out of the way and heaved Liam up the stairs and into his room. Sparse, with only a bed and chest of drawers, Liam lived without color or accessories. That he saved for his meddlesome ways.

The moment Hope entered the room, Liam snapped to attention. “We’ve need of a discussion.”

Gone was the drunken demeanor. In its place was a stony façade Hope kenned meant trouble.

“What type of trickery is this, Liam?” She stood before him, close, and punched him with a pointed finger.

Aidan leaned against the closed door, his arms crossed before his chest. The line of his jaw flexed and his gaze penetrated Liam as if it were an arrow piercing the older man’s chest. “Aye, auld man. What trick is this?”

Liam held up his hands as if in defeat as he backed away from Hope and sat on the edge of his bed. “’Tis no trick. Just a need for privacy.” He wiped his face and rubbed the back of his neck. “You canna marry.”

Chapter 17

A chill filled the chamber as Aidan paced forward and picked up Liam by the scruff of his neck. “What say you?”

Aidan tried to calm the errant racing of his heart, but all he could envision was the collapse of his dream and destiny. All at the hands of a spiteful man bent on playing laird. The very man who’d sent for him and then played games with the lives of others.

“
MacKerry
.” Hope pulled at his arm. “Let him go.”

He complied, but didn’t retreat from the man.

“Donna fash yerself. The council has decided ye should wait. Wait until we feel ye suit and this isna a grand mistake.”

Aidan felt the hold of security start to slip through his fingers. He glanced at Hope and bore witness to her distress as well. Surely she’d been subject to the council and their opinions for too long. “The only mistake is not to marry. Now.”

“The people want this, Liam.” She pounded her chest. “Our people.”

Her voice cracked and he couldn’t tear his gaze from her. The emotions that coursed over her features pulled at his chest, and his heart. No matter how he tried to remain detached, she had begun to matter to him. And as he had spent time with her, learned about her from her own words and those of the clansmen, Aidan began to lose a bit of himself to her and both of their causes.

The woman, full of strength and dedication had him tied in knots. And he’d made a pledge, one he fully expected to honor.

“It doesn’t matter what the council has decided. The clan knows we are to marry. Hope and I have agreed.” He took a step toward Liam. “There will be no more discussion. Your acting, this farce you pulled before the clan, made you look the fool.”

“’Twas necessary,” Liam groused.

Hope scoffed. “You were trying to undermine me, admit it.”

The auld man had the grace to look a bit sheepish. “Would ye have spoken with me if I hadn’t acted as such?”

She laced her arms before her chest and glared at the man. “Doona act as if I’ve never heeded your advice, Liam. ’Tis all the council does is give me advice.” She tipped her chin at him. “And we spoke just a few hours ago.”

Liam grumbled, then shifted his gaze to Aidan. “Are ye certain, MacKerry? About our laird, here?” A chill ran up Aidan’s spine at the underlying warning in his tone.

Tension lay heavy in the room, sucking the air as Hope watched them both, her brow marred with worry. As her gaze flittered back and forth, he saw anger overtake the worry.

Just as he was going to speak, Hope said, “I’m still laird. With that, I’ll only say the plans aren’t going to change.”

Bravo
, he said silently.

Liam sputtered, turned bright red, then waved them out of the room.

Aidan wasn’t certain if the entire situation wasn’t a rouse to remove them from the main hall and to somehow undermine any power Hope may have with the clan.

Liam’s actions were certainly suspect and Aidan proposed to ferret out what the man was up to.

As he and Hope left the room, he placed a hand on the small of her back as if to escort her. She threw back a look that read anger and frustration.

Without worrying about the consequences, Aidan pushed her against the stone wall. Leaned in and indulged himself in a kiss. Much like their embrace in the bailey, Hope participated enthusiastically, perhaps her anger fueled the passion. She tangled her fingers in his hair, raked them down his neck.

He explored her body as if he were memorizing each and every detail. The slope of her neck, curve of her shoulder. He hesitated over the injury then trailed his hands down her sides and back up to her breasts.

Full, luscious, his for the taking. Aidan stroked her nipples with his thumb, circling and circling, eliciting a guttural moan, which could only be taken as desire.

He nipped along her neck, lapping along her smooth skin. She arched her back, pushing her body further into his.

God, she tasted like heaven.

Aidan wanted her. He wanted her now.

“Jaysus.”

Not again
. Was the clan set on happening upon them whenever they were otherwise occupied?

Nora swatted at him, slapped him on the back of his head and then on his arse. “You’ll no be having your way with me lass.”

He chuckled as he looked at Nora. Her face was pierced with a scowl and she held her hand up as if to strike him again.

“She won’t be compromised,” he said as Hope scooted from behind him.

“Nora, ’tis none of your business.”

“Och,” she grunted. “Catriona bade me to look after you and I promised I’d do so.” She grabbed Hope’s arm and pulled him away from Aidan. “Come with me, lass. We’ve much to discuss.”

Aidan watched the women leave and head toward the laird’s chamber.

“I’m laird, Nora,” he heard Hope state with a hint of scorn mixed with aggravation. “I don’t need you protecting my virtue.”

“I’m praying you still have a virtue to protect. Yer mother will have me hide in the hereafter.”

He heard Hope chuckle and waited until the sound stopped echoing off the stone walls.

Life was certainly going to be interesting once they were married.

Strange how the idea didn’t put the fear of God in him. In fact, he looked forward to the event and it wasn’t just because he’d be sharing the laird’s chamber with Hope.

He was going to be where he belonged. Where it had been determined his da was to rule, where his father longed for Aidan to be—to rule.

Aye, Aidan felt contentment ease the tautness of his shoulders and set him to be ready for another day of games, dancing, and drink.

He moved through the main hall, still in the midst of revelry and many deep in their cups and talking loudly. He leaned against the wall, crossed his left foot over his right ankle, and watched.

A couple stood and began dancing to the music of laughter and chatter. They ignored him for the main part, although a few glanced his way. He’d thought he was making strides with the clan, camaraderie with the men, an easy rapport with the women. He was weary of being an outsider. Weary of being alone while in a clan.

Aidan wondered for a moment if he’d always be an outsider. Was he fooling himself to think when he revealed his identity, told all of the ruse, they’d accept him? And what of Hope? Certainly she’d never allow him to touch her, kiss her, make love to her.

He sighed, a bone-rattling sigh, that made him feel nearly as old as Liam.

Aidan wanted to see her and he prayed Nora had left her chamber. He quickly smoothed back his hair and checked his kilt to ensure ’twas neat. He kenned how she liked the clan’s kilt to have sharp plaits. He tapped on her door.

“You may enter.”

With a quick smile, he shoved the door open and entered.

“Och, MacKerry,” Hope said in surprise. “I thought you were Nora.”

“Luckily for me, I’m not Nora.” He paced forward as he watched her.

“The woman is trying to hide from me.”

“Why?” He tipped his head to the side as he watched her. She was still in evening dress and was standing before the fire. The glow of the flames lapped around her, highlighting her hair and casting her skin in a golden glow. The flames flickered as if they were licking along her décolletage with a closeness Aidan envied. All he had to do was reach out and touch her, grasp her arm, and pull her into him.

“She kens something, Aidan. She has information that will help me, us, with the council and clan.”

“Where is she?”

Hope sighed. “She promised to be right back after she wet some tea.”

He chuckled. “Aye, well it appears as if your maid has tricked you, m’laird.”

She pitched her brows downward. “Did you have a need, MacKerry?”

If he told her of his needs, she’d run from the chamber and Nora would skin his hide. He inhaled. “I wanted to see how you were fairing after the discussion with Liam.”

“Aye, well, ’tis his opinion, which means naught to me.” She moved away from the fire, but the heated glow still warmed her skin to a pink flush. A tiny drop of sweat trickled down her neck and he moved to touch it. Then she sat, ruining the opportunity.

“And are you considering postponing the wedding?”

She shook her head as roses blossomed further on her cheeks.

He repeatedly clenched his fist so not to touch her. “We’re in agreement.”

“Aye.” She smiled coyly. “What do you make of Liam’s request?”

“Request? I believe he feels he can order us around as if
he
were laird.”

“’Tis his way of things. My father had a way with him. Mother too,” she said with such longing in her voice.

“And I think we’ll need a way to work with him as well. He has a tie to the clan, the elders and young. I’ve seen him charm the woman and men.”

“And will you let him charm you?”

He pulled up. Hadn’t he let Liam pull the strings, lead him around as if he hadn’t a mind of his own? “Nay.”

She laughed and he let it fall over him like a welcome rainstorm. Whisper light, but cool and inviting.

“You surprise me, MacKerry. You’re an honest man.”

It felt as if he’d been punched square in the gut. She’d unmanned him with two words.
Honest man
.

Aidan angrily shoved guilt aside. Aye, he’d lied to her. Still lied to her. But Hope had no right to foist it upon him. He deserved to be laird and he had to resist the urge to tell her all. “I wanted to say goodnight.” He pecked her cheek, ignored the look of confusion creasing her brow, then left the chamber.

As Aidan paced toward his own chamber, he thought about the future, the impact of his presence on the clan and Hope.

He also thought of his father and mother and how in his grasp was a means to change what the past had wrought them.

And of the young lad who lost his life. Such a mystery, yet the clan seemed not to care. Who was he? Why was he in the bailey? And, dear God, why was he killed?

He entered his chamber and looked out the small window that allowed for a view of the rear of the keep. A few milled about, but he assumed most had found their beds or companionship for the evening. A hunched figure stopped, looked up, and then proceeded toward the palisade.

’Twas obvious that the figure preferred to remain anonymous. But why? The strange happenings at Wild Thistle worried him as it would worry any laird.

But he wasn’t laird. Yet.

Just a few more feet. That’s all it ’twould take to reach the gate and find some privacy.

Liam held back a cough, lest he drew the attention of the guards. Fever gripped him like a madness as he stumbled past the gate and toward the river. Cold water ’twas the answer. Cold water to run over his sweaty, withering body and rid it of sickness.

It took such drastic measures, but he was resigned to the fact he must steal away in the middle of the night to treat himself. Mayhap he should have been killed instead of the lad. But then, he wouldn’t have the privilege of seeing Hope lose the lairdship to MacKerry.

Ah, MacKerry, he thought as he tossed his tartan aside and walked into the water. He hissed in shock as the frigid water proved colder than he remembered. As he waded further into the icy depths, he cooled.

Further he went. He stepped down on a mossy rock and lost his footing. Arms grappling for anything to latch onto, Liam slammed into the water. He gasped for air. Water flooded his mouth and lungs. They burned as he continued to cling to the surface. The river wasn’t deep, he kenned, but he couldn’t find the bottom as he flailed about.

Liam kicked his legs and grasped for the edge.

“Hold still, auld man,” a loud voice told him. “I’ve got you.”

He struggled to view his rescuer, but the dark of night hindered his attempts. The man swung him over his shoulder and walked from the water as if it were a mere puddle.

“Let me go, ye oaf.”

“What? No thanks?”

MacKerry
. The devil take him!

He swatted away MacKerry’s attempts to steady him. “I’ll see to meself.” Liam felt the younger man’s smirk.

“Why did you go for a swim so late at night?” MacKerry gripped his elbow and led him back toward the palisade.

I must hold my own counsel
, Liam thought. “Just wanted a dip.”

MacKerry laughed. “Aye, and I’m Nora in a tartan.”

Despite himself, Liam chuckled. “’Twould be an ugly sight, to be sure.” He stopped walking and turned toward MacKerry. “Thank ye, lad. For saving me.”

“My pleasure.”

MacKerry didn’t pry, but he’d tipped his head as if regarding Liam in a different light. Liam felt the man had questions, but thankfully didn’t ask them. There was a hint of honor in the man. Not that MacKerry didn’t have secrets, but he was a man’s man and Liam respected him. How he differed from MacKerry’s parents. They fled when Liam kenned if MacKerry had been of age, he’d have stayed and fought for his rightful place.

And if he’d done that, all would be different this day. Hope—
blast her hide
—and Catriona changed it all.

MacKerry slapped him on the shoulders, a wee bit bone-rattling, but Liam held his own. “Do you need help to your chamber?”

“Nay. I’ll manage.”