Kilts and Kisses (2 page)

C
eana lit the candles in her bedchamber, donned her nightrail, and drew back the heavy curtains to see moonlight shining through the slit in the stone wall. Leaning closer, she looked through the hole. The moon was full and high in the night sky.

She sat on the bed and pulled out her journal from under the feather mattress. As she opened the page to the entry she’d made from the evening before, she sighed. Sorcha was two years younger than Ceana and only a year older than Anna. So why were Uncle John and Aunt Marta arranging a marriage for Sorcha now? Her cousin had said the words herself. She was the laird’s daughter. It didn’t matter how old Ceana was because her father was dead. She was no longer the laird’s daughter. That right now belonged to Sorcha, a fact she wouldn’t let Ceana forget any time soon.

Glancing down at her journal, Ceana didn’t see any words on the page. That revelation came as no surprise. She knew she’d never be able to pen a single word this eve. She closed the book and placed it on the bed. Bringing her knees to her chest, she rested her chin on top and closed her eyes.

“
Fuirich mionaid.
”
Wait a moment.
“I refuse to let Sorcha plague me. ‘Tis madness.” Ceana flew to her feet, donned her slippers, grabbed her cloak from the corner chair, and bolted out the door. She needed air and would not permit herself to be suffocated by her own dire thoughts.

Making her way through the halls of the castle, she saw that the main torches were extinguished, but a few remained lit to guide her. She knew the servants had retired to their chambers long ago. As she was passing the wall where her father’s portrait used to hang, she scoffed at her Uncle John’s likeness that now hung in its place. Becoming even more incensed, she walked with long, purposeful strides. She couldn’t reach her destination soon enough.

She climbed the narrow, winding steps to the parapet. It was engulfed in blackness, which suited her darkened mood fine. The only reason she didn’t fall and break her neck was because she placed her hands on the stone walls at each side to guide her. When she reached the top of the stairs, she opened the door.

Ceana stood in the same spot she always did, and the moon was so bright that it illuminated her father’s lands. She could even see the shadows of the tree line in the distance. The moon cast an eerie glow across the moors, as if the veil was thin between this world and the next. That was the moment she realized that she’d heard enough of Aunt Marta’s constant ramblings about specters and the fae. She whipped her head to the right as the sound of a sword scraped against the wall.

“I love to kiss ye. Ye taste as sweet as honey.”

“And I bet ye say that to all the lasses.”

“There are nay other lasses, Anna, only ye.”

Ceana’s body stiffened in shock. She hesitated longer than she should have, but then darted back to the stairs. Standing as still as a statue in the darkness, she leaned against the parapet door. God’s teeth! What was Anna doing up here at this time of night?

Ceana knew the answer to the question, but that didn’t prevent it from coming to mind. With all her might, she resisted the urge to walk over there and demand to know everything. What man would be so cocksure as to hold Anna in his arms under their sire’s roof? Surely he couldn’t be one of her father’s guards because those men knew better.

As the voices came closer, Ceana made her way carefully down the stairs. She tried to move as fast as she could in the blackness, but when she heard a step behind her, she froze. Not only that, but her foot almost missed the step entirely. She took a moment to still her wild, beating heart.

“Will I see ye on the morrow?” asked Anna.

“Shhh...
dèan air do shocair.
”
Be quiet.

“All right, but answer my question.”

“Aye. I have to ride out to the border, but
cha bhi mi fada.
”
I won’t be long.
“Meet me here. I’ll be waiting for ye, as always.”

There was a brief pause.

“
Mar sin leat.
”
Good-bye.

“
Chi mi a-màireach.
”
I’ll see you tomorrow.
“Until we meet again...”

Ceana walked with hurried purpose through the halls to Anna’s bedchamber. Once inside, she paced. What was her sister thinking? How long had Anna been meeting this man? More to the point, how could Ceana not have known? The door opened, and Anna’s voice rose in surprise.

“What are ye doing in my chamber at this time of night?”

“And I could verra well ask ye why ye arenae
in
your chamber at this time of night. Who was that man?”

“What man?”

Ceana wasn’t fooled by the innocent expression that crossed her sister’s face. “Ye know darn well what man. The man on the parapet who couldnae separate his lips from yours.”

“Oh, that man.” Anna stepped around Ceana with an air of indifference. “‘Tis Calum’s son.”

“Raonull, the rogue?”

“Raonull? I am nay fool. ‘Tis Samuel.”

Even though Ceana felt relief knowing the man on the parapet was not the biggest rogue in the castle, her stomach still soured at the thought of Anna in the arms of Raonull’s brother. After all, who knew what the rogue had taught his younger brother about women. “Please tell me ye still have your virtue.”

Anna sat on the bed and folded her arms across her chest. “I cannae believe ye would ask that of me.” When Ceana waited for an answer, Anna added, “Of course I do. I am nae daft, and by all means, I am nay harlot.”

“How long?”

“How long
what?
”

Ceana sat beside Anna on the bed and took a deep breath. “How long have ye been meeting Samuel?”

“Only for a fortnight. He’s verra kind to me, Ceana. He doesnae want to cause trouble. He cares for me, and he’s a good man.”

“I donna like it.”

Anna smiled, patting Ceana on the thigh. “Be truthful. Would ye like anyone who courted me?”

“Nay, but that doesnae matter. If Aunt Marta or Uncle John, or even Sorcha, finds out ye’ve been meeting with Samuel in the darkened hours of the night—”

“They will nae. We’re verra careful.” Anna took Ceana’s hand. “Please. Ever since Mother and Father passed, there has been nay light in our lives. This is the first time that I find a smile on my face. Ye know it doesnae hurt to smile once in a while, eh? Mayhap if ye found a man too—”

Ceana waved her sister off. “If I sought companionship, I’d seek out one of the castle dogs.”

“Mother and Father are gone. They’re nae coming back.”

There was a heavy silence.

“Since when does my younger sister find the need to counsel me? Ye donna need to tell me they’re nae coming back. I know.”

“Be that as it may, I know our parents would’ve expected ye to live your life. Ye need to smile, laugh... I cannae remember the last time I saw any of that from ye. There is naught we can do about Sorcha and her annoying suitors, but once she weds ‘the most powerful laird in the Highlands,’ she will nay longer be underfoot and causing trouble. For the moment, cannae ye be happy for me? I need this—Samuel—in my life.”

“Let me get some sleep and we’ll talk about it on the morrow. But give me your word there will be nay more secret meetings with Samuel.”

“
A-mach à seo!
”
Out of here!
“I cannae give my word for something I cannae do.”

Ceana stood. “I’m going to bed. I’ve had more than enough this eve.”

“Do ye think she waits?”

“Pardon?”

“Sorcha. Do ye think she waits for the apparition of her future husband to appear in her bedchamber?”

“I think any man—or apparition—who is willing to take Sorcha to wife is a daft fool.”

“Ye still donna believe Aunt Marta is a witch, do ye?”

Ceana wiped her hand across her brow. “I think Aunt Marta believes in some verra strange things, but nay, she is nay witch. Ye best keep those thoughts to yourself. Get some sleep, Anna.” Ceana closed the door behind her and briefly closed her eyes. Not only were suitors scaling the walls in order to gain her sixteen-year-old cousin’s favor, but now Ceana had discovered that her fifteen-year-old sister was having nightly trysts on the parapet.

Perhaps it was time that this eighteen-year-old lass did something different for a change.

L
uthais MacKay reveled in the silence that surrounded him. He tilted his neck from left to right. As the cool night air blew tendrils of hair into his face, he secured the loose strands behind his ear. He took another swig of whisky and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Since he was a small boy, he had often found solace in this spot.

The full moon cast a shimmering glow on the water as if it taunted him, making him believe this was the last moment of peace he’d ever receive. He rubbed his fingers over his tired eyes. In his sire’s absence, the clan felt compelled to have Luthais settle disputes. And not just any disputes—the petty kind over sheep and rents, and how could he forget the incident of the clansman who was cuckolded by his wife?

The men demanded justice. They couldn’t even wait until his father returned from Edinburgh before they swarmed like a bunch of bees, sensing sweet nectar and then turning around and stinging Luthais in the arse. Then again, perhaps he shouldn’t be too eager to see Laird William MacKay. After all, his father would not be pleased when he found the clan in such disarray, although Luthais had tried his best to act in his father’s stead.

He gazed up when he felt eyes watching him from the tree branch overhead. “I know ye’re there.”

The only response was the sound of fluttering wings.

“How could ye know? I made nay sound.”

A figure approached in the moonlight, and Luthais held back a groan. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve been taken aback by the red-haired man who stood six and a half feet tall and carried a broadsword. “What are ye doing? I came out here to be alone.”

“What kind of man would I be to let my best lad drink alone? I’ve come to share your drink.” Doughall extended his hand for the flask and then took a swig.

Luthais knew when a battle was already lost. There was no sense in arguing for his friend to depart. Lowering himself to the ground, Luthais rested his back against the standing stones that had been there for centuries. He’d never understood the significance of the rocks, if any, but they were a common staple of the Scottish landscape. Although some clan members believed the formations had been left by the fae, others thought they were a relic left for young lovers to seal their devotion to each other. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe in such superstitions. But for some unexplainable reason, six giant rocks formed a circle on MacKay lands at the northern end of the loch.

“I’m afraid to ask, but how did ye find me?”

Doughall sat beside Luthais and handed back the whisky. “Ye’re always at
na tursachan
when ye’re troubled.”
The standing stones.
“What will ye do when your father returns on the morrow?”

“Gladly hand back the reins.”

“Ye know what I mean.”

“Aye. I donna know. He will be cross.”

Doughall laughed. “Think ye?”

“I donna want to talk about it. I came out here to drink in peace.
Na can an còrr.
”
Say no more.

“I will nae stop ye from getting into your cups, but I suggest your head be clear for thought when ye speak to your father.”

Luthais let the fiery liquid burn down his throat. “Aye, well, I’ll worry about that on the morrow.”

“God’s teeth!” Doughall eyed the trees above with disgust and then wiped his shoulder. “Why do your vexatious birds always shite on me?”

“They know the hand that feeds them.”

“Be that as it may, mayhap ye can train them a wee bit better, eh? They’re only as good as the man who trains them.”

“I’ll think about it. Do ye have anything to eat? I didnae sup.”

“Aye...mutton.”

“Arse. I told ye that I donna want to hear another word about the damn sheep.”

A flash of humor crossed Doughall’s face. “Baaah.”

“Ye know ye would’ve done the same.”

Doughall shrugged. “In truth, ye did more than I would have done.” He gave Luthais a brotherly punch in the arm. “If it were me, I would’ve told the men to keep their squabbling to themselves and wait for the damn laird to return. But then again, I am nae the laird’s son and the one who had to listen to the whining in my ear every day.”

“I donna know how my father does it. Who would’ve thought the MacKays could be so annoying?” When Doughall lifted his brow and gave him a knowing look, Luthais stood with the whisky in hand. “Bastard. I’m going home where I can find air to breathe. Do ye stay?”

“Och, nay. I’ll return with ye.” Doughall pulled himself to his feet at the same time Luthais extended his arms in the air as if to embrace the moon.

“
Trobhadaidh.
”
Come.
As the branches rustled overhead, he couldn’t help but chuckle when the mighty Doughall took a step back. Luthais ambled toward his mount as several talons descended upon him, gripping the leather straps on his shoulders and the one on his forearm.