Highland Hope (Wild Thistle Triology Book 1) (23 page)

He stilled, then said, “’Tis something else.” He paused and looked at her, then exhaled, “he’s dying.”

“Liam?” She slapped the table. “I want to be the one killing him. Do you ken? Not some sickness.” She was so angry it was as if her blood was on fire. Yet, what Aidan said would explain why she’d felt his bones when she’d led him to his chamber.

“He’ll be dead soon enough.” MacKerry said. “I helped him near the pond and the man’s wasting away. He’ll not live a fortnight.”

She glared at him. “Do you promise?”

He smirked and shook his head. “If only I could.”

Thoughts raced through her mind. So many years of grief and uncertainty. And now to find out needless deaths. “And the lad who was murdered?”

Duncan shrugged. “’Tis what I suspect as well and I think he was acting the spy. They want to go after Mungo again. They want the land.” He nodded toward MacKerry. “They ken they need a man as laird.”

She bristled. Men were out to see her doom. “Why? I believe in protecting us, protecting the clan.” She ignored Duncan’s intrusive gaze and spared a moment to look around the crofter trying to take a few minutes to sort out her feelings and rage. ’Twas difficult to breath with Aidan so near. God, she was confused. She hated him, loathed him . . . and then her heart beat as if it came alive with a mere glance at the man.

’Twould never do if he planned to have a family. Only a hearth for fixing meals and room for a wee table and a bed to fit Duncan’s grand height. An idea popped into her mind. “Why MacKerry and not you?”

“His father wasn’t selected by the council, mine was.” MacKerry said with a grim expression. Eyes as sharp as knives pointed toward her. He shifted, his body now facing her, confronting her.

“But they did want you as laird,” she accused Duncan. “After my father, they wanted you.” Try as she might, ignoring MacKerry was an impossible feat. His presence seemed to overtake the crofter, the tense line of his shoulders were like insurmountable mountains. His scent—clean, masculine, alluring. He dragged her attention to him again and again.

“Aye,” Duncan replied with a raspy voice. He stood and refilled his and MacKerry’s tumblers.

He nodded toward her and she shook her head nay, worried drink would turn her stomach further. She rubbed her brow. Hope owed it to the clan, to her sisters, to her father’s legacy to fight for the lairdship, but she didn’t know how. Or who would listen. Firstly, she needed to determine the minds of the council if such a thing was possible with the blasted men. “Why, Duncan? Why you and not me?” She hated the whinny tone of her voice, loathed it.

A bit of a smile crooked up Aidan’s mouth as a gleam hit his eyes with a hard edge. “They thought he’d do their bidding.”

“He’s the right of it,” Duncan admitted while he aimed a finger at Aidan. “The council spoke to me, they wanted me to declare war on Mungo. But I refused.” He ruefully shook his head. “Bollocks, too many ha’ died the last time. We werena’ any better with men, young and auld, to fight them and win.”

War.

Hope scoffed. “I bet they continued to try.”

His gaze met hers and held. “Aye, they did. Offered me the moon, to be sure.”

Hope’s dry laughter held no mirth. “To be sure.” Duncan joined her laughter and MacKerry looked at them as if they’d lost their minds.

“Aye, MacKerry, the council has a way of offering what isn’t theirs with promise upon promise. My father and mother had done their best to break them of the nasty habit.” She tipped her head to the side. “You’ve been quiet, MacKerry. What say you?”

He pushed back from the table and refilled his tumbler once again. He leaned against the wall and crossed a long leg over the other. “The council has played you all for fools. They spy, plot, and wreak havoc.”

“’Tisn’t the entire council. I’m certain Liam has plotted with a few of his comrades and left the rest in the dark.” Or had her father’s men turned on her as well?

MacKerry shrugged. “Nevertheless.”

Hope glared at him and leaned back in her chair. “What would you do?” She didn’t know why she asked his opinion when she hated him. The words had slipped out before she could stop them.

He gave her a smile that ’twas too warm, too intimate. The way it flared in his eyes, steel to a soft grey and hint of blue, dazzled her more than she’d let him know. She swallowed, trying to calm her errant heart.

Did this man think he could come to Wild Thistle and take over? Och, of course he did. And she’d have to stop him and the council.

“I, my bride-to-be,” he said followed by a chuckle when she pulled a face, “would ensure Liam was no longer part of the council.”

Duncan roared with laughter, pounded the table, and tipped over his ale. “Och, MacKerry. Didna ken ye had a sense of wit about ye.”

Aidan stood, a seemingly causal action, but the tight ropes of his forearms and strain of his neck clearly indicated his feelings. His brawn filled the small house as if it would burst from his presence. “Have no doubt. Liam will be gone from the council.
As I pledge
.”

Hope loved to see his fury, anger. As he stood, proud and strong, power emanated from him like the beaming sun, filling the crofter and spilling into the bailey.

He was magnificent.

Her heart betrayed her as she knew beyond a doubt at that moment she loved him. Even with his betrayal, she loved him.

God help her.

Chapter 20

Aidan watched as Hope sat forward, a peculiar expression flitted across her face as her almond shaped eyes widened. Lust stirred through him as her gaze seemed to be one of adoration. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and drag her back to their chamber.

There, he’d devour her just like her eyes were devouring him now.

“Aidan, my mother kenned something about the council.” She turned to Duncan. “Was it about Liam killing my father?”

Duncan remained stoic for a few moments. “Yer right. And yer mother forced them to stop their plans. Said she’d tell all. She didn’t have proof just as we doona. But her threat carried weight with Liam.”

Aidan watched Hope digest the information. It seemed strange to him she lacked the knowledge, but perhaps she truly didn’t want to know. But he also thought about how few knew about him, his father and mother. The MacAlister clan buried their secrets deeply.

“Nora,” Hope declared.

They all knew the maid would have the information they needed for Liam to leave the council. A small smile tipped her mouth with a flash of triumph.

Hope rose from the table. “I’ll speak with Nora, mayhap she will keen if there is proof.” She tipped her head at him. “I’ll see you in our chamber.”

If they were going to rid the council of Liam, they had to work together. But first they had to discuss the secrets, come to some sort of agreement or compromise despite their different goals. Mayhap he’d be able to explain why he needed to fulfill the pledge he’d made.

Duncan, who had blessedly remained quiet in his observation, laughed and pounded the table. “She’ll see ye in our chamber. Och, MacKerry, ye have yer hands full with that one.”

Hope gazed up at him with the look of enlightenment cast upon her lovely face. Stark, primal need welled within him and roared through his veins.

He wanted to pull her across the table, push up her tartan, and take her.

A quick glance at Duncan stilled the impulse, just barely.

“We have much to discuss,” he told her, ignoring Duncan. She knew what he wanted as he witnessed the jump in her pulse at the base of her elegant neck. Her green eyes darkened. They shifted to nearly black as her gaze intensified and filled with desire.

When she licked her lips and the moistness of her tongue left them glistening like rich, ripe berries, he grabbed her hand and led her from the crofter.

“Och. Much to discuss, my arse,” Duncan called after them.

Aidan smirked and heard Hope’s soft chuckle. They moved through the bailey and into the keep as if they were the only two people in the world. Ignoring the calls of clansmen, up the stairs they went to the laird’s chamber.

“Out,” Aidan demanded of Hope’s sisters.

Faith stood and fisted her hands at her waist. “Nay, you blackguard.” Honor stood beside her and mimicked her sister’s stance.

Aidan smiled, pleased they appeared more supportive of Hope than when he first arrived. Regardless, he repeated, “Out.”

“’Tis fine, lasses,” Hope said as she hugged them and kissed Honor on the top of her head. “Go, we’ll talk later.”

Both headed toward the door, stopped and turned back toward Hope and Aidan. Doubt cast deep on their faces. Faith took a step toward them.

“’Tis fine,” Hope said with an exasperated tone. A slight chuckle eased from her. “Truly.”

Faith nodded, grabbed Honor’s hand and they left. Just before the door closed, Faith pointed a finger at Aidan. “I’m keeping an eye on you, MacKerry. You hurt my sister and you’ll deal with me.”

He chuckled and tipped his head. “I consider myself warned, lass.” He wrapped his arm around Hope and pulled her close to his side. The rightness of her body fit closely and settled him.

Hope moved so that her body crushed along the front of him. Her heat seeped into him, surging the fire already burning in his blood.

“Tell me why you came to Wild Thistle.”

He brushed a few strands of hair away from her brow. “Most of my life,” he started, “centered around my father and his quest to return to Wild Thistle.”

Her gaze searched his face as if she was looking for something. He prayed he said the right things.

“The council was going to install my father as laird well before your father was killed.”

Hope’s breath hitched and grief spiked in her eyes, the tight lines surrounding them. She nodded for him to continue.

“Every day my da would tell me the plan. How he’d be able to come back and claim the lairdship.” He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “When he became ill, he started talking about me claiming the lairdship. And when he died, I received a letter. From Liam.”

“Aye, the one that is missing from your bag.”

She didn’t say a word, but he felt her retreat. Physically. Emotionally.

“Why did they banish you, not just your mother?”

Old frustrations assaulted him. How many times had he asked that very question? Hundreds? Thousands?

And his father had never answered. Nay, he chose to protect the memories Aidan had of his mother, no matter how much he’d pestered.

“I wish I knew. Mayhap they thought my father would seek revenge or force them to make him laird. Nora said my mother’s actions caused much upheaval.”

Hope frowned. “Nora has known all for so many years and never shared with me. Even after my mother died, she remained silent when this information would have helped me.”

He cupped her face with both of her hands. “Do not judge her harshly. She has lived with the treachery for a long time and . . . she loves you.”

Tears shimmered in her eyes, then flowed over onto her cheek. “Aye.” She moved her head and kissed his palm. “We’ve both been treated unfairly, Aidan. I ken this just as I ken why you kept your identity a secret from me.”

“I was dishonorable.”

“Aye,” she said as she sniffled. “And I’ve yet to forgive you. But I do understand your need to keep a promise—a pledge. My sisters and I made one to my father on his deathbed and I’d sooner die than break the pledge.”

He smiled at this, touched by her proclamation. He swiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb. Was he the type of man who’d put aside his goals for a woman? His father’s quest had been told to him repeatedly over the years and at some point became his quest as well. Hope tipped her face up toward him. Vulnerability and grief creased her features. For her, he’d find a way for both of them to win. “When I started my quest, I thought of no other. Only the lairdship and that it was mine. Aye, only the lairdship.” With the shake of his head, he sighed. “Then I met a fiery lass, full of spirit, full of life, and bossy to boot.”

She smiled through the tears. He leaned down and kissed the trail they’d made along the soft skin of her cheek. “I know I hurt you.” His voice softened, his gaze filled with regret. “I . . . Hope, I’m so sorry.”

She looked up at him, her eyes bright and shimmering once again with tears. “Aidan,” whispered past her lips. “I love you.”

He lifted her up and carried her toward the bed. They kenned the truth, talking to Nora could wait. Gently laying her onto the bed, Aidan slowly untied her linen shirt, allowing his fingers to graze her skin. So soft, he thought as he skimmed along her collarbone, tracing down the path between her glorious breasts, the slight hollow of her stomach.

Hope arched toward him, her breaths coming in spurts as she grappled with pushing herself further upon the bed, pulling him along with her. “Aidan, I need you,” she whispered as she reached for his tartan.

“Easy,” he said as he aided her quest to unclothe him. Stripped bare, Aidan continued removing Hope’s tartan. He unwrapped the length of wool, pulled it from beneath her body as he reveled in caressing the smooth skin of her bottom. Och, she made him ramrod hard.

Her body was just like her—soft, hard, giving, strong. He moved down to her legs. Long, lean, incredibly beautiful. Aidan kissed along her hip, nipping close to her womanhood as she moaned and gripped his hair.

“Aye,” she said with a breathy tone. “Aye.”

Aidan smiled against her skin and continue his gentle assault down her legs until he came to her graceful ankles. He made his way upward, Hope’s moues of encouragement was all he needed to know she was enjoying this as much as he.

“Aidan,” she cried as she bucked from the bed.

He looked up at her, her skin glowing pink, her face a rapture of passion. “Does that pleasure you?” He didn’t wait for her to answer. His cods were going to burst.

“I need you,” Aidan growled. He rose over her, captured her mouth with his. Kissing her senseless. As they parried with their tongues, her hands roamed along his skin, scorching as they kneaded, clawed.

With one swift motion, he delved into the hot, moistness to the hilt. She cried and arched, pulling him in deeper.

With renewed vigor, they thrust, kissed, suckled. He pumped and pumped as Hope met his sweet assault as her hips rose up to him to move in tandem.

Wonder filled her face, bringing him to a point of no return. Aidan felt the passion boiling close to overflowing as Hope gripped his buttocks and wrapped her legs around his hips.

She undid him. With a roar surely heard by all, Aidan found his release as he pumped his seed into her womb.

Hope moaned as he continued, her head thrashing back and forth. “Aidan,” she cried. As she climaxed, pride filled him as she called out his name again and again.

Their connection was one of a kinship, a common goal.

And then she said she loved him. Humbled, he gently brushed his fingers along her cheek, cupping it as he skimmed his thumb along her swollen lips.

He wished he could say the words; tell her he loved her as she had told him. Yet something held him back, mayhap the way his mother cuckold his father or the quest for the lairdship was still deep within him.

No matter. He’d do right by her.

As I pledge
.