The Magic of Highland Dragons (7 page)

Faith had as a rule never been one to look twice at a man, but she did now. In fact, she couldn’t stop looking. He was magnificent, even from this distance, and even more so as they came closer. He stood there in the castle yard like a king, arms crossed over his chest, head held high, waiting for them to come to him. He was not dressed in any particular finery, only a loose fitting white shirt and tight leather pants, but still she could never have thought him less than the leader of his people; it was in the very aura of energy and vitality surrounding him. In the confident steadiness of his gaze as he watched her. Power. Command. Strength. Danger.

She looked up from his tall leather boots, all the way to his dark brown, wavy hair, which hung just past his shoulders, with a few loose curls falling across his brow. His face… dear God. He was beautiful. Extraordinary brown eyes framed with dark lashes were narrowed on her in a piercing gaze as she approached, making her feel nervous and giddy all at the same time. His cheekbones were high, and his mouth wide with lips just the right fullness and curve to be incredibly sensuous, yet still all male. His chin was broad and square, with a very masculine cleft in the middle. Looking at him, she thought her knees might just buckle, and that was not like her at all. But to be fair he was by far the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on. He even looked like he
smelled
good. He probably did.

Her eyes were still on him when Dirc pulled her to a halt, almost causing her to stumble.

“My laird”, he said with great solemnity, “may I introduce my ward, Faith.”

“My laird”, she repeated, figuring that must be the proper greeting. But Dirc was squeezing her arm.

“
Curtsy
”, he said under his breath.

“I don’t know how! I’ve never curtsied to anyone before,” she whispered back, trying to loosen his grip where his fingers were digging into her flesh. ”Let go!”

“It’s all right, Dirc.” Bren’s attention turned to her, and she thought she saw a gleam of masculine appreciation in his eyes as he slowly looked her over. It made her feel… almost dizzy.

“Faith. An unusual name.” His gaze lingered a moment on her hips, her breasts, before slowly returning to her face, leaving a trail of heat on her body. She felt suddenly warm all over, and now she couldn’t even seem to speak. He was so very tall, several inches over six feet, by her guess. At any rate he towered over her own five feet and five inches. And strong. The contours of the muscles of his arms and chest showed plainly through the thin white linen of his shirt. He emanated power, so much so that she wanted to step closer and move away at the same time. And his eyes, she was drawn to them even as she wanted to look away. He looked at her like a predator watching its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. She suddenly wasn’t so sure she was up for this. This man was way out of her realm of experience with the opposite sex. He looked like he could be downright lethal.

He spoke again, his eyes still on her face, though his words were addressed to Dirc. “I have made my decision. She may stay in the castle, under my protection. After three days time, she must pledge her oath.”

Dirc smiled, and she could have sworn she heard him let out a breath he had been holding. He bowed his head in deference, though she sensed the relationship between these two men was much deeper than it seemed on the surface. There was some sort of subtle undercurrent between them that she was not privy to, but that she could definitely sense in their interaction.

“Thank you, my laird. I place her in your care and trust ye to keep her safe.” He pushed her firmly forward towards the laird, ready to make his escape.

Faith rounded on Dirc as he turned to leave, suddenly unnerved at being placed in the care of a man who looked like he was capable of… well, anything at all. Not the least of which was making her think she might like to run her hands over his … “No! Don’t go yet Dirc. I’m not so sure about this anymore. I want to think about it some more.”

Dirc patted her arm in a half-hearted affectation of comforting her. At this point he clearly couldn’t wait to be rid of her. Well then why had he brought her here to this time? Her mind made a rapid series of deductions, ending with the obvious conclusion that Dirc wanted her to stay here at the castle with the laird. Why? To be his… what did they even call it here… concubine? Mistress?
Oh no, I don’t think so!
But
what other reason could there be? She was, after all, an absolute nobody here. Or there was her theory that she knew something important… but that was a long shot at best.

“Now lass, ye will be safe in the castle. Remember what we talked about earlier.”

“I don’t want to be safe in the castle!” She turned desperate eyes to Dirc, who avoided her gaze and guiltily looked down at his feet, which he shuffled a little in the dirt. She suddenly couldn’t see herself under the same roof with the laird for even one night. Not with the way he was looking at her. Not with what she could see burning in his eyes. And not with the urges that he was suddenly awakening in her own body. “You can’t just let him take me and lock me up in his castle! Who is going to protect me from
him
?” she blurted before she could stop herself. She really hadn’t meant to say that part out loud.

Faith thought she saw a faint look of amusement pass over Dirc’s face before he spoke. He looked up at the laird. “My laird? Will the lass be safe under yer protection at Creagmor?”

A slow and wicked smile curved Bren’s lips.
Predator, definitely
, Faith thought. God, he didn’t even move like an ordinary man. He had a sensual, animal grace that made her want to touch him, and when he spoke, his voice seemed to flow through her and vibrate over her skin.
Dangerous, dangerous man.
This was
never
going to turn out in her favor.

“On my life”, he said solemnly, “while the lass is under my protection, I willna touch her… against her own will.” His gaze fell to Faith’s upturned face. “Such a vow will certainly ease her mind. Ye ken, Dirc, that I dinna give a vow lightly. It is my word of honor.”

Faith frowned at both of them. The smug look on the laird’s face said it all. He obviously thought that if he decided to seduce her, she would certainly fall willingly into his arms. No doubt
all
women did. She narrowed her eyes in defiant challenge of his assumptions. He would not find her so easy to win over! Even if she wanted to, she would never give in; she had far too much pride to be just another one of the laird’s female conquests. And he probably already had too many to count anyway. Plenty of women besides her to keep him busy, at any rate. She didn’t need to be counted among them, that was for certain.

Bren finally turned his gaze from her, and gestured to Mathilde, one of the chamber maids he had brought with him to see to the lass,
Faith
… because he had already known he would keep her. He had been enthralled since the moment he first saw her sitting there with the book on the grass. He was more than eager to discover more about her. Like how her lips tasted, for one. And what her beautiful face looked like when she was under him and he was…

He forced his mind back to the present. The rest would have to wait. He nodded to Mathilde. “Ye may take her to her chamber now.”

Mathilde smiled warmly at the pretty young lass who looked equal parts angry and terrified, leading her towards the keep with a gentle hand on her back. As the two women walked away, Dirc held Bren back for a moment.

“A word in private, if ye would, my laird.” He wanted to make sure Bren
would
seduce Faith, the sooner the better, and the way to do that of course was to make her absolutely forbidden to him. He knew how the laird’s mind worked. If the lass was forbidden, he would want her all the more.

Bren turned back to face him with a little sigh of impatience. “Aye?”

“The lass… she’s verra innocent, and er, verra beautiful, as ye can see. I have come to think of her, even in this short time, as my own daughter; even as my own flesh and blood, and so I worry overmuch for her safety. There are men about who might… take advantage. I dinna want to see her ruined before she can ever be wed. It will be difficult enough as it is for me to make a match for her.” Dirc wrung his hands in what he hoped was a convincing manner. “Ye will of course see that… uh…”

Bren clapped him on the shoulder, reassuring him. “Dinna worry, old man, she will be safe with me. No one within the walls of my castle would dare defy my orders. Ye ken that well.”

“Thank ye, my laird.” Dirc noted, of course, what Bren had cleverly not said. He had, as usual, left himself open to do as he pleased in the matter, and this time he hoped he would do just that. He wished he could just tell Bren the truth and be done with it, but the laird needed to discover it for himself. The stubborn man had already built far too many barriers around his heart for it to happen any other way. But then nothing with the Mac Coinnach laird, or his brothers for that matter, was ever easy.

Bren turned to follow the two women back to the keep, watching the gentle sway of Faith’s hips as she walked. The way she moved! God she was truly the most sensual creature he had ever laid eyes on. How he would enjoy the feel of her body moving against his, flesh to flesh, in just the perfect rhythm, the very same as the rapid beat of a heart.

For some reason Dirc
wanted
him to take her. The old sorcerer was plotting something, and he knew he should ignore the lass for just that reason. He knew how Dirc’s mind worked. But he also knew himself well enough to know that would never happen. He was a man whose passions ran hot, very hot, and this lass already seemed to fire his blood like no other. That, coupled with the fact he had not had a woman for some time… Aye, he was doomed to failure should he try to keep himself from her, but then, one couldn’t always be successful at everything. And this little challenge would be a welcome respite from his troubles; something to veil the hollow ache that had long since filled his chest and would not let him be.

Faith, realizing she had no other choice just now, besides running, and most definitely being caught, followed the woman named Mathilde into the keep. And if she had expected a dark and dreary castle, she was overwhelmed by what she saw as they stepped through the door. The main hall was bright and clean, well lit by rows of high windows near the vaulted ceiling. The tables were finely crafted of dark, gleaming wood, the finest one up on a dais near the far wall. That must be for the laird and his family. Colorful banners and tapestries lined the walls, along with various sconces that held candles of varying heights and sizes. At one end there was a magnificent fireplace surrounded by a carved stone mantel. There was no fire burning right then, but she could easily imagine the huge room lit in the evenings by dancing firelight, people gathered around it, talking and laughing, feasting.

Suddenly she stopped dead in her tracks, standing stock still when her gaze fell on the banner hanging squarely over the head table.

“Oh...” The word slipped from her lips on a soft breath before she could stop it, causing Mathilde to turn and look back at her.

“Are ye alright lass?” Frowning, the maid followed Faith’s frozen gaze to the tapestry, then curiously back to her face. “Tis the seal of Creagmor. Of our laird and chief”, she said by way of explanation. “A good, strong seal, isn’t it? I’ve always admired it, myself.”

Faith nodded and gave a shaky smile, tearing her eyes away from the image that had held her spellbound, implications falling down around her with frightening intensity. The tapestry was woven with two dragons, mouths open, reaching for a blood-red gem at the center. It was the same symbol that at this very moment she wore around her neck. The seal of the Laird of Creagmor.

***

Faith was shown to a chamber on the third floor of one of the towers, a room which she was to share with four other women, including Mathilde. It was not a very large room, and the huge bed took up a good part of it. Mathilde looked around with her hands on her hips and declared that they would most likely have to bring in a larger bed, one that would fit five. Having not even met her roommates, and unaccustomed to sharing a bed with strangers, Faith told her politely not to trouble herself. She would be perfectly happy to sleep on the floor near the fire for now, as she didn’t know how long she’d be staying, anyway.

Since she had no belongings to put away, Mathilde then led her to a room just off the kitchens. Apparently there were to be no further preliminaries. The kitchens were large and Spartan clean. The walls were whitewashed, and the floor paved with smooth, flat stones. There were two huge hearths, one at either end, and in one corner a well to supply fresh water so that no one would have to haul it in from the main well outside. Only two women were working right now, one older and quite plump, and the other young and rather pretty. Faith imagined that as peaceful as the kitchens seemed right now, closer to dinner time, the place would be bustling. Mathilde urged her forward.

“Now Faith, this is Berta, and this is Fiona. The laird has ordered that ye start by helping them with their tasks in preparing the meals. Perhaps if ye do well enough here, ye can try laundering tomorrow. That’s a task no one likes much, and it goes faster with more hands.”