Highland Thirst (9 page)

“Mayhap
we best give ye two a minute or so to discuss this,” murmured Colin. “We will
just take the dog for a wee walk. Come along, Thor,” he said to the dog as
Peter and Fergus stepped out of the room. As he started to follow them, Thor at
his side, Colin looked down to see the cat walking at his other side. “Weel, I
see that we will be taking Havoc for a walk as weel.”

Brona
had to smile as she watched her pets march off with Colin. Then Heming grasped
her by the hand, sat down on his pallet, and pulled her down beside him. She
felt the hint of a blush touch her cheeks and was not sure why. They had been
sharing the chamber for five days so a moment or two alone should not make her
feel so uncertain.

“Ye
dinnae have anyone ye can go to, do ye, lass?” Heming asked quietly.

She
sighed, hating to admit the sad truth. “Nay, save for my aunt, and I cannae go
there now, can I? Aye, I have a few other kin, though we arenae close, but I
cannae be sure how to get to their homes. I fear I have been kept verra
secluded, verra sheltered. First by my parents and then by the fact that Hervey
seems to prefer it if I stay out of sight most of the time.”

Although
Heming wanted to keep her at his side, he knew it was only fair to discuss any
other choices she might have. Not doing so was the kind of subterfuge that
could come back round and bite him in the end. He would give her what few
choices she had and then try to talk her out of taking any except coming to
Cambrun with him.

“Mayhap
the easiest thing ye could do is stay right here until ye are certain your
cousin is no longer so angry.”

“I
dinnae think there is much chance of avoiding punishment for what I have done
if I stay near Hervey. He may nay remain so furious he would wish to kill me,
but he willnae forgive either. He will also do something to make sure that I ne’er
want to go against him again. ‘Tis his way. But, I might weel try that if nay
for one thing—Angus wishes to wed with me.”

Heming
actually saw red and felt his fangs slide into place. Angus had the same hard,
cold cruelty in him that Hervey did. The man had also been very creative in his
methods of torture, as if he spent many long hours finding or thinking of ways
to make people scream in pain. The thought of any man touching Brona was enough
to make him grit his teeth in jealous fury, which surprised him. The thought of
Angus touching Brona, of laying claim to her as his wife, was enough to make
Heming want to howl with rage and go after the man, hunt Angus down, and rip
him apart.

“Ye
are the daughter of a laird. I would have thought your cousin would seek a more
fitting husband for one of your birth.” Heming almost winced at his own
hypocrisy, for if Angus was too lowborn for Brona then so was he.

“I
was
the daughter of a laird. I am now just a cousin of the laird. And,
in truth, what I overheard implies that there was some dowry left for me. If I
wed Angus then Hervey gets to keep the dowry and he is in need of some coin.
They planned on seeing to that matter as soon as they were done with you.”

“Then
ye must come with me to Cambrun. Ye will be safe there until I have killed
Hervey and Angus.” Heming realized stating his plans for her cousin so bluntly
may not have been the wisest thing to do, for she grew a little pale.

Brona
knew Hervey and Angus deserved whatever punishment this man wished to give them
considering all they had done to the man. She had just not been prepared to
hear his plans spoken so bluntly or with such a cold resolution. Yet, it was
not just Heming that men like her cousin were threatening, it was the entire
MacNachton clan. Knowing her cousin and Angus, they had undoubtedly made their
distaste for MacNachtons brutally clear, insulting and humiliating Heming at
every turn. Brona supposed it was Heming’s right to feel as angry as he did. A
man as proud as she sensed Heming was would have found his time as Hervey’s
prisoner a source of great rage.

“I
apologize,” Heming said. “The mon is your cousin—“

“Aye,
but he has courted such a fate as ye promise him for years. I kenned what ye
must feel, e’en what ye may have to do to save your clan, ere I unlocked your
cage. I just winced a bit at hearing it said so clearly. ‘Tis as if I
unsheathed the knife that is now being held to my kinsmon and laird’s throat.
In truth, it would do the people of Rosscurrach only good if those two men were
gone. My cousin isnae a verra good laird.”

Heming
gently grasped her by the chin and turned her face up to his. “Come with me to
Cambrun. I can keep ye safe until ye can return here or anywhere else ye may
wish to go.” He felt sure that he would be doing his best every step of the way
to convince her to stay with him for a great deal longer than that, but it was
not the time to even hint at such a plan.

Brona
stared up into his golden eyes and felt something inside of her melt. He was
such a beautiful man, his face cut of pure clean lines, and his lips full
enough to be incredibly tempting. If she went with him she could remain at his
side for a little while longer and she knew that was just where she wanted to
be. The way he stroked her cheek with the tips of his fingers had her trembling
slightly and she had to face the fact that she would probably be willing to
follow him anywhere.

Just
one little kiss, she thought as she stared at his mouth. That did not seem too
much to ask. Brona knew she was not the sort of woman a man as fine as Heming
MacNachton would choose, but he could weaken enough for just a moment to give
her a kiss. When she realized that his mouth was actually slowly moving toward
hers, Brona had to fight hard to keep from throwing herself into his arms and
hurrying things along. She had been dreaming of kissing this man for days and
she did not want to do anything to stop him from giving her what she craved.

He
knew it was a mistake, but Heming could not resist the temptation. Brona’s full
lips were so close and he felt a deep urge to try to do something to take the
look of sadness from her eyes. The moment he brushed his lips over hers,
however, all thought of gently comforting her fled. He felt a wildness seize
him. Even as a voice in his head whispered that he should be cautious and
gentle, he quickly deepened the kiss. He needed to taste her, needed to hold her
close. Slipping one hand into her hair and wrapping an arm around her small
waist, he pulled her close to him and nipped gently at her bottom lip. As a
soft gasp escaped her Heming swiftly took advantage of it, thrusting his tongue
into her mouth. The taste of her was almost as intoxicating as the rich taste
of her blood.

Brona
clung to his broad shoulders and tried not to do anything that might let Heming
know that she was almost completely innocent of this sort of thing, even
kisses. When he thrust his tongue into her mouth, she almost squeaked out a
protest, but it died as he stroked the inside of her mouth. The same heat that
had flooded her body as he had taken her blood rushed back so quickly she felt
faint from the power of it. This time the hand stroking her back did not do so
in a gentle soothing manner, but in a way that had her pressing her body close
to his.

It
was the sound of a dog’s claws on stone that stopped Heming’s fall into
mindless passion and need. The men were coming back and he knew they would not
like to see their mistress being mauled by a man they were still not sure they
trusted. He also realized that he was already starting to push Brona down onto
the pallet, desperate to feel her body beneath him. Heming was sure that Brona
was a virgin and such rough play would not be right, nor would taking her
virginity in haste, in a cold, damp chamber beneath Rosscurrach with three men
about to interrupt them. A woman like Brona deserved wooing, not grabbing.
Heming ended the kiss, and had to fight to ignore the soft sound of protest she
made, one that tempted him to return to her arms.

“Brona,”
he said, lightly cupping her face in his hands, “the men are returning.” For a
moment he feared she had not understood but then she blushed and pulled out of
his arms.

When
she kept right on blushing, nervously patting a hand over her hair as if trying
to tidy it, and refused to look at him, Heming inwardly sighed. She was
embarrassed. It was his fault for throwing himself upon her like some untried
boy, but Heming was not sure how to ease that embarrassment. What women he had
been with in his life had not required gentle words and fine manners.

“I
am sorry if I have upset ye,” he said quietly, keeping one eye on the doorway.

“Och,
nay, ‘tis probably I who should apologize to ye for behaving so shamelessly,”
Brona said and took a deep breath to calm herself enough to look him in the
eye.

“If
I hadnae heard the men returning, I would still be acting verra shamelessly
myself. Ye certainly have naught to apologize for.”

Brona
was about to argue that when she realized she had not heard anything and
listened closely for the sound of the men and her pets returning to the
chamber. She was just about to tell him he must have misheard when she heard
the low murmur of voices. Brona looked at Heming in astonishment.

“How
could ye have heard them?” she asked. “I have only just done so.”

“I
have excellent hearing, a gift from both my father and my mother. Although my
father claims that my mother’s hearing is enough to make him hang his head in
shame.” Heming smiled faintly. “He says she can hear a butterfly sneeze in
London.” Heming was pleased when Brona smiled fleetingly.

“One
of those gifts ye mentioned, eh?”

“Aye,
one of those. Will ye come with me to Cambrun, Brona Kerr?”

It
was probably not the wisest thing to do, but Brona nodded. “Only until I can
return to Rosscurrach without fear of being forced to marry Angus. I truly
cannae abide the mon. I ken it sounds foolish but I believe marriage to that
mon would slowly kill me in spirit and mind if nay in body.”

“It
doesnae sound foolish. He would destroy a woman with your kindness and
compassion.” He smiled when she blushed but before he could say anything else
their companions had returned.

“‘Tis
verra near dark,” said Colin as he entered. “Are we to leave now?”

“Aye,”
said Heming even as Brona moved to start packing her small bag of belongings. “Brona
will go with me to Cambrun until it is safe to move back here.” Since he did
not have many belongings to pack, Heming moved to pack up the food and wine.

As
Brona settled Havoc into a large woolen sack so that she could carry him, she
became aware of a thick silence around her. She turned to look at the men and
they were all staring at her or, more exactly, her cat. Brona had the feeling
that she was soon going to be involved in a lengthy argument.

“I
cannae leave my animals here,” she said. “Hervey or Angus would kill them.”

“Ye
cannae take the cat, Brona,” Heming said gently.

“He
kens how to travel—“ she began, even though it was the whole truth, for she had
never traveled very far.

“Nay.
If we had horses, I might consider it, but we will be walking, mayhap have to
run and hide at times. I believe Thor will do just fine, but nay the cat, nay
when ye have to carry him all the time. If naught else, ye could lose him along
the way and that would grieve ye, aye?”

“Aye,
but I cannae leave him here. If he was caught by my cousin, all of Hervey’s
anger would fall upon Havoc.”

“We
will leave him with my mother,” said Colin. “The laird willnae recognize one
cat from another outside of the keep. The beastie will be weel cared for, I
promise ye. My sister Fiona will be that pleased to have him and care for him.”

Knowing
what a sweet girl Fiona was, Brona reluctantly agreed. When they slipped up
behind Colin’s home just outside of the village, his mother hurried out to
greet them and readily agreed to care for Havoc. Feeling a little foolish for
her urge to weep like a bairn, Brona ignored the men as she explained to Havoc
why she had to leave him behind and advised him to stay close to Fiona until
she returned for him. She then stiffened her spine and walked away with the
men, silently promising herself that she
would
return even if it was
only to collect her cat.

Brona
turned her thoughts to what she now faced. She was about to go on an adventure
at the side of a man who made her blood run hot. She would see things she had
never seen and might even have to flee danger a time or two. A part of her was
terrified while the greater part of her was excited. When Heming took her hand
in his and smiled down at her, Brona decided that whatever she faced in the
days ahead, it would all be worth it for she would be sharing it all with him.

Six

“I
miss Havoc.”

Heming
smiled as he latched the door to their room. It was going to be very fine
indeed to spend the next few hours until sunset cloistered in a locked room
with Brona. Feeling that they were safely secured inside, he walked over to the
small table where Brona sat staring at the food the maid had brought them. They
had only been traveling for two nights and as much of each day as he could
withstand without weakening. Except for a few short respites from the company
of the others, this was the first time he and Brona had been left completely alone
and Heming had every intention of taking full advantage of it.