The Magic of Highland Dragons (21 page)

It was long after the dinner hour, when they finally reached Dunreven. He and his men were shown to the hall and offered food and drink while Loghan was made aware of their arrival. Bren was about ready to jump out of skin by the time the laird came down to the hall to greet his unexpected guests. Well, uninvited anyway, if not exactly unexpected.

“Where’s Faith?” he blurted out without preamble. “I need to see her!”

Loghan frowned sternly at him. “In her chamber, preparing for her bed most likely.”

“I want to see her”, Bren said, more evenly. “I need to see her, to speak to her.”

“Ye will see her in the morning. Ye may break the fast with us in the hall if ye like. Until then, it is growing late, and someone will show ye where ye can sleep.”

Bren almost said more, but Eian’s firm grasp on his arm staid him. His brother was right, he had to tread carefully if he wanted Loghan to give up his daughter to him without a fight. But by hell or high water, if he didn’t give him Faith, there
would
be a fight.

Loghan McAlpin watched Bren Mac Coinnach stalk from the room like a cross and hungry lion. He had only just found his daughter again, and now he would lose her to this man. The sorcerer Dirc had told him of the ring, and how it had brought her to Bren. He had seen with his own eyes what was between them, and was not surprised at how quickly Bren had come for her. He knew all about the chief of the Mac Coinnach clan, his close neighbor and long-time ally. His power, his strength, his pride. And his honor. He would gladly give this man his only daughter. It was the truth that there was no better match for her in all of Scotland. And united as one, the McAlpins and the Mac Coinnachs would not be easily defeated.

Bren didn’t last more than a few hours under the same roof as Faith and not being allowed to see her. He had already found out where she slept, and now he reached her door unseen, cloaking himself with the darkness, unable to believe he was creeping about the castle in the middle of the night like a lad after a maid. But she was
his
woman, damn it! He only wanted to see with his own eyes that she was safe and well.

Her room was locked, but he opened it easily with no more than a thought well-aimed towards the keyhole. Carefully closing the door behind him, he looked to the bed where Faith lay asleep, a sliver of moonlight falling across her cheek from the open window. He moved silently across the room, needing to be near her, his heart racing, and bent down to kiss her lips. She woke with a start, drawing a breath in to scream, but he pulled her close, moving his finger to cover her mouth and quiet her until she had recognized him. When she did, her eyes lit up, and he felt her lips curve into a smile under his fingertips. She was glad to see him, then. His body felt almost weak with the relief that flowed through him. He had not known until that moment how afraid he was that she would
not
want to see him, especially now that she had her father and her place at Dunreven. His fingers were still splayed across her lips, and she kissed the pad of one finger, drawing it into her mouth, scraping it gently with her teeth. He hissed in a breath, his eyes closing as a rush of pure lust shot through his veins. He pulled his fingers from her mouth, replacing them with his lips and tongue in a deep, hard kiss that took his breath. He forced her back onto the bed, his mouth consuming hers, the soft waves of his dark hair brushing her cheek, his hands tearing at the ties of her night shirt until he freed one breast, squeezing it with a soft moan. The warm scent of her skin flowed through him like a drug.

“I missed ye so much,” he murmured, trailing hot, fevered kisses down her neck. “Dinna ever leave my side again.” He had only meant to see her, speak with her, maybe steal a few kisses, but instead he was quickly burning out of control. His need for her was a living thing, a hunger ravaging his body day and night, never letting him rest, because he could not feed it. Not yet, but soon, and every moment thereafter. Her arms came up, circled his neck, pulled him back to her lips, kissing him with wild abandonment. He lowered his body to hers, pushing his full and aching groin into the delicate vee of her legs. She gasped, and he groaned softly as if in pain. God, he wanted her clothes off, he wanted his clothes off. He reached for the hem of her shirt… and heard the unmistakable metallic slide of a weapon being drawn. He froze, then glanced over his shoulder.

“Yer father”, he mumbled, turning back to her. “Bloody, bloody, bloody hell.”

Faith couldn’t help herself, she smiled, stifled a giggle. He looked like he had been just caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He gave her an incredulous look as he fumbled with her clothing, tugging it awkwardly back into place.

“Aye, ye can laugh, can ye no’? Ye are no' the one about to have yer ballocks sliced off with a sword.”

“I really hope it doesn’t come to that”, she whispered, “when after all I haven’t even had a chance to see them yet.”

Another bolt of lust shot through him at the thought of her looking at him there,
touching
him, and he almost leaned forward to take her lips again. Then someone cleared their throat loudly behind him.

“I hope I have arrived in time to save my daughter’s virtue, Mac Coinnach?”

Bren heaved a sigh, still looking at Faith. “Oh, aye, ye most certainly have.”

She wanted to giggle again at the look of pained frustration on his face.

Her father was not so amused. He waved the huge sword he held in a menacing arc. “Get out, now! I dinna care who ye are, Laird of Creagmor or King of Scotland, ye have nay right to be in this room! I kenned I should have posted a guard at this door. It’s a verra lucky thing I decided to check on my daughter before I retired.”

Bren stood and as he did so he gave Faith a rueful half smile, then mouthed “
later”
. But his eyes still burned into her, making her heart pound in anticipation. He turned and walked to the door, if rather stiffly. Her father stepped aside and escorted him through. “My study”, he grumbled. “Now.”

But just before he closed the door, though it could have been a trick of the light, Faith could have sworn she saw her father smile.

Bren went into the study and carefully lowered himself into the offered chair. Loghan had closed the door, leaving just the two of them to face each other. And Bren had faced plenty of angry fathers in his time, mostly in his younger days, when youthful indiscretion often ruled over common sense. But this time it
mattered
. He assumed there would be yelling, strong words, threats. Perhaps Loghan would even be moved to draw a weapon or to strike him. Hell,
he
would certainly strike any man who would dare to touch
his
daughter! And then he would probably kill the man. He tensed, ready to defend himself, if need be. He wouldn’t hurt Faith’s father, but he wasn’t going to stand by and let himself be hacked to pieces, either.

But Loghan simply sat in the opposite chair, quietly studying him for a moment. Then he heaved a weary, heart-felt sigh. “Ye are the one, then.”

It was not quite a question, but more of a begrudging acknowledgment.

Bren nodded. “Aye”, he said, very softly.

“I saw the Dragon Ring she wears about her neck. Dirc said it brought her to ye.”

“Aye.” He did not tell Loghan how Dirc had taken it upon himself to bring his mate to him, even when Bren would have punished him for trying. In his heart he would be forever grateful for that act of disobedience. Though it made him wonder what else the sorcerer had been up to over the years, how many other things were less than coincidence… he probably didn’t really want to know. Some things were best let lie.

Loghan nodded. “Aye, somehow I always kenned it would be ye. If Faith is anything like her mother was, it will take a man as strong as ye to keep her safe and content. I dinna envy ye the job, lad, but the fates were wise in their choice”. He smiled, though a bit sadly. “I should thank ye, then. I had lost all hope of ever seeing my daughter again. I had always hoped… that when… if she returned… her mother…”

Bren reached out to put a hand on the other man’s shoulder, meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry”, he said softly.

Loghan acknowledged the sentiment with a nod, and Bren sat back in his chair again. “I want to take Faith back to Creagmor with me in the morning, where I can keep her safe. Ye ken who I am, and ye ken I will guard her with all that I have and with my verra life.”

Loghan’s eyes narrowed. Though the situation was not usual by any means, there would at least be some propriety where his daughter’s honor was concerned. “Ye will wed her first Mac Coinnach. I will hear yer vows to my daughter, and then I will hold ye to them till my dying breath, and beyond, if such is possible. Ye will do everything in yer power to make her happy, or I will kill ye myself.”

Bren smiled. “I could do no other.” He paused. “I am sorry that there isna more time for ye to spend with her… before. Ye ken, I’m certain, that Mored is gathering more men who will follow him for the promise of wealth and power, and we dinna have a moment to lose. His attacks are already growing much more bold. Now that Faith is here the bond between the two of us, and what it will bring, is crucial. But afterwards, when we are settled, I would be honored if ye would come and stay with us for a time. I am certain that yer daughter will want to ken her father for more than only a few short days.”

“I will, be sure of it, Mac Coinnach.”

“Ye will give yer daughter to me in marriage then, even should she say she is unwilling?”

Loghan narrowed his eyes again in suspicion. “Why would she be unwilling to wed with ye? Have ye done something to hurt her?”

“Nay! Nay, of course no’. It’s just that… I find she can be rather stubborn.”

“Aye, and all women can be rather stubborn. What is she being stubborn about, exactly?”

Bren looked at his soon-to-be father-in-law, not sure he should give an honest answer. He smiled, a bit awkwardly, and cleared his throat. “Only my… pursuit. Though I’d like to think I’ve made some… progress, more recently.”

Loghan raised an accusing eyebrow, letting Bren squirm for a long moment, and then burst into laughter. “She is a smart lass. A verra smart lass. I trust, then, ye will do yer duty and make me a grandfather before too long.”

Bren returned his smile. “I will do my best. My verra best.”

***

Faith tossed on the pillow, unable to go back to sleep. It had to be nearly dawn, anyway. She arose and dressed, and wondered again if her father had hurt Bren very badly, or perhaps even had him locked in the cellar hole. If so, should she try to get him out on her own? Should she go to her father and ask for…what… leniency? She had no idea of the proper protocol. She had no idea how to even have a father, let alone a protective one. All her life she had assumed her dad had left her behind. She would never have guessed he had actually sent her away to protect her.
She
had left
him
behind.

She went to the window and looked out into the night, restless and a bit overwhelmed. God, a bit overwhelmed seemed to be her new permanent condition. The moon hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over everything, making the world seem even more unreal than it already did. She had always loved the moonlight. She caught site of an owl flying low just across the tree tops, and watched it until it disappeared into the night. Then something else caught her eye, a movement near a small copse of trees across the yard. She squinted, trying to make out what it was in the dim and ethereal light. It was a woman in a white dress. From this distance it looked almost like…
her mother
. She
knew
it wasn’t really her mother, knew it with a calm certainty. But even so, after watching for a moment longer she left the window and walked out of her room, down the narrow steps, across the hall, and out into the last small hours of the night. Who was the woman? Could she be an aunt? A sister, maybe? Did she need help? Her father hadn’t mentioned any other female relatives, but he hadn’t said there
weren’t
any, either, and they had only talked for a short time. Not nearly long enough to find out anything about her family here. And with the incredible shock of learning about her father, she hadn’t thought to ask. But what she perhaps should have thought to wonder was why a woman would be alone outside at this hour.
Because she wouldn’t be.

Faith ran lightly across the yard to the copse of trees she had seen from the window, but the figure was already gone. “Hello?” she called softly, but no one answered. Disappointed, she turned to go back to the keep, suddenly and uncomfortably aware of how reckless she was being, out here all alone in the dark, chasing after strangers.

She hadn’t even taken a full step before someone grabbed her from behind, clapping a hand over her mouth in the same instant to stifle her scream.
Damn, I am such an idiot! How could I fall for such an obvious trap?
That was the first and last thought to go through her mind.

Because then everything went dark.

When she woke, she was in a cave. It had to be a cave. The floor was of dry, dusty dirt, and the stone ceiling was uneven, curving downward at the edges. There was a smell of musty earth and stale air. It was dark, except for the flicker of a torch somewhere just beyond the opening to the chamber where she lay. Another chamber, most likely. She struggled to sit up. She realized then that her hands were tied behind her back, but she didn’t seem to be otherwise harmed, except for a dull ache at the back of her head where she must have been struck. She had only a moment to look around at her surroundings before a figure appeared at the chamber’s opening, holding a lamp.