The Magic of Highland Dragons (16 page)

“Are you going to explain to me why you’ve dragged me out here or not?”

He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair, just like she had seen Bren do when he was aggravated. “I told ye, I’m trying to prevent a war. It’s no’ what I had planned for this evening, believe me.”

“I don’t understand how bringing me out to the garden is preventing a war.” She did understand, she had seen the look on Bren’s face, but felt that she had to make a token protest, anyway. After all, it wasn’t her fault that he couldn’t control his temper. She had only been dancing, and she didn’t belong to him anyway. He hadn’t even spoken to her about… dating… or courting, or whatever it was called here.

Drust looked at her with frustration. How could she not see what was going on? “Did ye no’ see the laird? I ken my brother, he was about two seconds from leaping across the table and murdering the MacDonald’s son for having his hands on ye. That would without a doubt have caused a war. No’ just a war but a feud that might go on for a hundred years or more. A verra nasty one, too, and one easily prevented.” He gestured to the garden where they stood. “By me, since no one else seemed so inclined.”

Faith knew before she opened her mouth that the argument she was about to present really had no bearing in 16
^th
century Scotland, but… “But the laird doesn’t own me. He has no claim on me either. All I was doing is dancing, just like all the other women.”

Drust smiled a little. The lass knew very well how Bren felt about her; she couldn’t help but know. He’d seen him stalking her like a hawk with a rabbit in its sight. “My brother seems to have taken an uncommon fancy to ye, lass. In truth, I’ve never seen him like this before. I dinna ken what his intentions are otherwise, but it’s quite plain that he wants ye for his own. In truth, I dinna understand why he hasna… laid claim to ye yet.”

Faith smiled ruefully. “He promised Dirc.”

A look of amusement passed briefly across Drust’s face. “He promised Dirc, did he? Well then, nay doubt he’s left himself a way out of the promise.”

“He did”, Faith admitted.
‘I vow not to touch her, against her own will…’
he had said. “Well, he’s not going to have me. I won’t belong to any man, not like that.”

“No’ like what?”

“As a possession.”

Drust shook his head. “Bren could possess nearly any woman he wanted. He’s never been inclined to do so. Until now. Until ye.”

“He doesn’t even know me, Drust. And I don’t know him.” She wasn’t going to get into it with Drust about whether women were possessions. Not right now, anyway.

“I think that sometimes”, Drust began slowly, hesitantly, “if two people are meant for each other, their hearts ken it, long before their minds see the reason of it all. It’s a rare enough thing no’ to be wasted. Life is too fleeting, no’ to grab every piece of happiness ye can. Bren will be a fool, Faith, if he doesna do everything in his power to win ye to his side.” He smiled, a little sadly. “My brother is many things, but I’ve never kenned him to be a fool, at least no’ yet.”

Faith felt some of the fight leave her. Drust was a good man, as were his intentions. She knew that; felt it in her heart. “Thank you, Drust. You must love your brother very much.” She stepped forward and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

He stepped back with a nervous laugh, covering his cheek with the palm of his hand. “Are ye trying to get me killed? I’m no’ ready to give up on life, just yet.”

“He wouldn’t kill his own brother!” she said, appalled at the thought.

He shrugged and gave her a crooked smile. “I wouldna be so sure, lass. And I’m no’ willing to take the chance. Come, I’ll bring ye up the back stairs to yer chamber. Ye should bar the door from the inside to be safe, with all the men about as might be well into their cups.”

Chapter 9
҈

The next morning the door to her chamber was locked, but from the outside. Mathilde and Deidre were still asleep; Fiona and Sorcha had apparently never come up to bed, because she had waited up half the night listening for them. She hoped they wouldn’t be in too much trouble for being late for work this morning. Or maybe Berta had given them all the morning off. There would, after all, be plenty of leftovers for breakfast from last night’s feast, and a good many people would probably have aching heads and little appetite. Still wondering at the locked door, but strongly suspecting it had something to do with keeping her safe from the MacDonald men, Faith went to the window and looked out to the bailey below. The day was gray and misty, and by the dark and heavy look of the clouds, it would soon be raining in earnest.

The MacDonalds were already preparing to leave. Some of the horses were saddled, the rest were being led from the stables. There was Bren, clasping arms with the laird, seeing off his guests that Faith suspected he was more than happy to be rid of. Even as she watched them all mount their horses and ride away, there was a sound at the door as the bar was lifted, freeing them from their temporary prison. She stared at it for a long moment, then almost laughed out loud. Did Bren perhaps think she would have snuck out of her room for a tryst with one of the guests? Evidently he wasn’t taking any chances.

She sighed, turning back to the window as the first fat drops of rain began to fall from the sky.
What now, Faith? What are you going to do?
Once she thought about it for a moment, she realized her choices were rather limited at the moment. She could stay here and wait to see what happened next, or she could try to leave, although she had no idea where she would go. She had promised Dirc she wouldn’t leave the castle without an escort, but she was pretty sure she wouldn’t be getting any such thing from Bren. And Dirc had conveniently taken himself off somewhere, most likely just so he wouldn’t have to deal with her anymore. She was fairly sure she wouldn’t be going home without his help. And she was fairly sure she didn’t want to leave, anyway. And she was almost certain that if she stayed here much longer, she would end up in bed with Bren Mac Coinnach. She didn’t know what she wanted! And now that Bren had forbidden her from doing any work… a slow smile spread across her face. Was she supposed to just sit here all day, then, while she waited to find out her fate? Who was he to forbid her from helping out and keeping busy?
Laird of this castle, Faith, tantamount to king of Creagmor.
Maybe so, but then she wasn’t really one of his subjects, was she?
Well
, said the annoying voice in her head,
you sort of are, since you did give him an oath of loyalty.
Ignoring it, she headed for the kitchens, feeling quite rebellious, and happy to have thought of a way to keep herself entertained.

Bren watched the MacDonalds until they rode over the crest of a hill and out of sight, as if he wanted to make sure they were really gone. He looked up at the sky. It would be pouring rain before too long, not a good day for training, or riding out. He begrudgingly went back into the hall, where Drust was still sitting at the table eating his morning meal. He shoved the last bite into his mouth. Bren put a hand on his shoulder.

“I ken well what ye did last night. Thank ye, brother.”

Drust shrugged. “It was nothing. I could hardly let ye ruin the evening’s fun with violence and death, now could I?” he said dryly.

“I hope it wouldna have come to that. But even so, that woman tries my patience like nothing ever has before. In truth, Drust, I’m at the end of my wits. I dinna ken what the hell is wrong with me, only that
she
is the reason for it.” He glanced at the stairs. “I should go up and apologize, I suppose.”

Drust eyed him suspiciously. “Ye are going to apologize to a woman, for
yer
behavior?”

“Aye, of course”, he said. “Ye pulled her away from the dancing and made her go to her chamber for the night, did ye no’?” But his brother was on to him and he knew it. He was hoping she’d be alone in her room, and his apology would include a kiss. Why the hell hadn’t he given her a private room? Next to his own? He headed for the stairs.

“She’s no’ up there anyway”, Drust called. “She was in the kitchens, when I went to get some food no’ long ago. She said Berta was letting the other lasses sleep late this morning, so she was helping out.”

Bren pressed his lips together, turned on his heel, and crossed the hall in the other direction. Behind him, he heard Drust snort in amusement.

No sooner had he pushed open the door to the kitchens than he saw her. She was standing at a table cutting up a cabbage, the knife looking far too large and unwieldy for her small hand. Berta was there too, and she gave him a little curtsy and a ‘good morn, Laird’. But it was Faith that had his full attention. And his full measure of displeasure.

“Why in God’s name are ye in here again?”

She glanced up from her work, seemingly unaffected by his angry tone. “I told you, I like to help out.”

“But I forbade ye from doing so.” He crossed his arms and scowled at her, his nostrils flaring in tightly controlled anger.

She merely looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Ye are trying my patience, woman, hie yerself out of here now, or this time I will be forced to punish ye as ye deserve!”

Faith glanced to the back of the room, where Berta stood unabashedly watching the scene unfold while she pretended to stir something in a bowl. There was a strange glimmer in her eye. Probably enjoying this morning’s entertainment even more than last night’s. Maybe she only imagined it, but she thought she saw Berta give her a slight nod of encouragement. She turned back to Bren and crossed her arms over her chest in perfect imitation of his stance.

“No. Not unless you give me a very good reason why I can’t help Berta. I’ll be bored, otherwise. It’s going to rain all day, and in case you didn’t realize, I’m stuck here until Dirc decides to come back for me.
If
he decides to come back for me. What else am I supposed to do with my time?”

Bren was not used to being challenged, and certainly not by a lass half his own size. His temper began to flare even hotter, and he found himself wishing he could control this woman as easily as he could his blooded stallion. If she would only obey him… in all things. Then everything would be just fine. But she insisted on testing him instead. Provoking him. She truly had too much spirit for her own good. He dropped his voice lower, and filled it with menace. “If I have to carry ye out of here over my shoulder, I will. And when I finish with ye, ye willna sit for a week.”

Faith gave him a haughty look of challenge. She really didn’t know what had gotten into her this morning, but it felt good to at least pretend she had some control over her life at the moment, even though she knew she didn’t really.

Bren’s lips drew into a tight line and his eyes sparked fire. He moved so swiftly that Faith barely had time to turn and run as she suddenly reconsidered the wisdom of challenging Bren Mac Coinnach. She didn’t make it very far before he grabbed her arm, dragging her back towards him with more strength than she imagined one man should rightfully have.

She fought him then, with everything she had. Fought him because he was bigger and stronger and she hated to feel weak and helpless. Fought him because she knew that if he really wanted to, he could seduce her with almost no effort on his part, and her body would be his for the taking. She knew, deep down, that finding that ring was no accident, that she had been compelled here by something she didn’t understand. She also knew, instinctively, that her life was no longer entirely her own, because as long as she was here, she wouldn’t be able to resist Bren Mac Coinnach forever; whatever pull he had over her was just too strong. And then there was the symbol, the dragons. On the ring she still wore around her neck. On his arm. On his bed. Coincidence could only go so far.

So she fought back, letting go of all that she had held inside from the moment she had slipped the ring on her finger and awoken in the heather. She kicked him and hit him and struggled for all she was worth, but none of it made a damn bit of difference. He was that much bigger, that much stronger. He grabbed her other arm, and twisting it, held both wrists in one of his hands. She lunged forward and tried to bite him, and he pushed her roughly back onto a table, arms stretched over her head, chest heaving with exertion and indignation. He leaned into her, so that she could feel him aroused and so very hard against her thigh. Her eyes flew open in accusation. He was enjoying this, damn it! But then, to be completely honest, so was she. Despite her anger, or perhaps because of it, her body was responding to his, growing restless, throbbing.

“Little hellcat”, he said in a deep husky voice. “Do ye like to play rough then?”

Evidently she did, Faith thought with much chagrin, or she would not be wishing he would just finish it, take her right now, on a table in the kitchens, with an audience, no less. All but for her pride.
Pride goeth before a fall
, her mind echoed from somewhere in her subconscious.

“Get off of me you overbearing ass!” she hissed at him.