Grant Clan 06 - My Desperate Highlander (5 page)

An hour later, she had been completely unsuccessful at finding anyone suitable to be her betrothed. Discouraged and almost ready to give up for the eve, she turned to Micheil, lifting her skirts to allow for quick movement. Micheil was talking with a curvaceous blonde who reached over to rub his arm on occasion. Diana rolled her eyes and said, “I will return in a moment.”

Not ten steps away from Micheil, a hand gripped her elbow and tugged her back until she hit a wall of muscle.

“I thought you would never leave him.”

Warm breath scorched her ear as she swung around to see who dared to speak to her in such an intimate manner. The most handsome man she had ever seen gazed into her eyes, and her heart melted. There he was. Unable to speak, she stared into blue eyes that enchanted her with their sparkle. His hair was blonde and straight, falling just over his collar, and an incredible smile stretched across his face.

Her ability to speak finally returned. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”

“Perhaps not, but I
need
to know you. My name is Randall. And what is yours?” His rich English accent threatened to buckle her legs.

“Diana.” So entranced was she by Randall, her breath came out with barely a whisper.

“Ah. The goddess, Diana. What an appropriate name for a lady as beautiful as you.”

Diana blushed and turned away.

“Do not turn from me, my flower. I thrive when your gaze is upon me and me only.” He smiled and reached for her hands, then held them up to his lips. “You are lovely. Please tell me you are not attached to your friend.”

Her eyes widened. “Nay, he is…family. He is my cousin.”

“Wonderful, because I am in need of a woman in my arms this evening.” He headed toward the road outside the bailey, pulling her behind him as he directed her toward a clump of bushes. As soon as they were hidden between the branches, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him. His lips descended on hers and she sighed, so happy to have finally found her knight. His mouth was warm but rough, his teeth knocking against her lips, forcing her to part for him so he could sweep his tongue inside. He pulled back and gazed into her eyes, his desire evident. “I want you, my sweet.” He locked his lips on hers again, angling his mouth over hers, his saliva covering half of her face.

This was not quite how she’d envisioned her knight’s kiss. He was too bold…too, well, spitty. Granted, he didn’t taste awful like the baron, but this was not the kiss of her dreams, nor did he grab her heart as she had expected. Where was the lightning bolt when she met her true love? Naught, there was naught there. She pushed away just so she could wipe his spit from her chin and cheek. Glancing at him, she asked, “Are you an English knight, Randall?”

He grinned as he ran his hands down over her bottom, pulling her in tight. “I can be whatever you want me to be, Goddess Diana.”

“But are you? A knight, I mean.” She could not help but stare at his plump lips and the golden locks around his face.

“No, but I am English. My father is an earl, so I am nobility. I am looking for a wife while I am here. Are you taken?” He nuzzled her neck as one of his hands reached up to cup her breast.

“Why, nay! That is exactly why I am here.” She waited to feel the flutter of her heart as she stared at the man who could possibly solve all her problems, but naught happened. Somehow, she had expected her destiny to feel different than this. Puzzled, she wished to just walk away to clear her mind.

“My pardon!”

Randall jumped back.

Micheil stood there, his hand on the hilt of his sword. “Take your hands from the lady.”

“Nay! Micheil, you do not understand.” She grabbed his arm, desperate to keep him from pushing Randall away.

“I
do
understand. I see a lad who shoved you back behind some bushes so he could maul you.”

“He’s not mauling me, he’s…”

“His hand was on your breast, Diana. That is my definition of mauling.” Micheil’s eyes glowed with fury.

Micheil would kill the man, right then, right there. The bastard had one hand on Diana’s breast and the other on her arse. He was a dead man.

“Please, Micheil, listen!” Her hands gripped his arm with enough strength for him to turn and gaze into her eyes.

Hellfire, why did she have to give him that innocent pleading look all the lassies were so talented at giving? He took his hand from the hilt of his sword. “Who is he?”

“This is Randall. He’s an Englishmen,” Diana whispered, one hand on his arm and the other hand on Randall’s arm.

“Randall what? Of where?” He stared at her for a moment before turning his glare on Randall, his hands on his hips now, feet apart in a fighting stance.

She stuttered, unable to respond to his question. He could tell by the confused expression on her face that she had presented him with the entirety of her knowledge about the man. So her only reason for allowing such familiarities was because the man was blond and English. “Diana? Tell me you know something more of him.”

Randall held his hands up. “No need to take it out on her. My apologies. Randall Baines, my father is the Earl of Wingate. I’ll take my leave now.” He nodded to her and ran around Micheil, heading back toward the revelry.

Micheil turned his fury to her. “What in hellfire are you doing? Giving your favors away to anyone who approaches you? Are you that desperate?”

She gave a weak tap to his arms as tears flooded her eyes and slid down her cheeks. “How could you?”

“How could I? He had his hands all over you.” He hated it when lassies cried. Why did she have to do that?

“He is my knight! He is my destiny and you just scared him away.” She crossed her arms and turned away from him, stomping her foot at the last moment.

“Your destiny? Didn’t you just meet him?” he asked.

She whirled around to face him. “Aye, but he is looking for a wife just as I am looking for a husband. I’m not sure of it, but he could be the one. He could assist me out of this wretched situation I am in, could he not?”

“Like hell! A man who wishes to marry a lass doesn’t maul her within the first few minutes of meeting her. Men who respect you will not push you behind bushes so they can grab your breasts. He is a wolf, exactly the sort of man Aunt Elspeth and I warned you about.”

“Nay, he is not.” She whirled around and gave him her back again. “‘Struth he did not really seem like my knight. He did appear to be the one, but yet mayhap he is not.” She grabbed at her hair in frustration. “How would I know? Where is my mama when I need her? What am I supposed to be looking for in a husband?”

Micheil took a deep breath and stared at the stars, counting to ten until he could speak again without yelling. He reminded himself how innocent she was. Given her circumstances, she was bound to fall for the first handsome man who showed any interest in her. Randall Baines. He growled and crossed his arms. Even the man’s name sounded soft and cowardly.

She swung around again and pushed past him. “I want to return to the festivities. Leave me be, Micheil Ramsay.”

Micheil followed her, continuing his rampage. “May I remind you that your safety was entrusted to me?”

She stopped and faced him. “By whom? Certainly not by me. Leave me alone, I said.”

“You didn’t mind having me nearby when you were locked in your chamber by Baron Gow. Or when Baron Gow had his tongue down your throat. And did Randall shove his tongue down your throat, too?”

“Aye, he did, and it was wonderful.”

He caught the flash of something different in her expression that told him she was not being exactly truthful. Disgust maybe? He tried to contain his smirk.

She continued on in a huff without looking at him. “You have my thanks for getting me away from the baron, now go. I can take care of myself. I will never find a man with you following me and scaring them all away. Be gone.” Her hand waved into the air as she maneuvered amongst the revelers, heading back to the courtyard.

Micheil stopped. Why not just let her go? What did he care? She was one of many lassies in the world. He would just tell Alex Grant how difficult she was, how she wouldn’t listen to anything he said.

And Alex Grant would slice his throat for sure or hang him by his bollocks. He growled at the moon in frustration and took off after her. He would just watch her from afar. And if that dirty slime Baines came near her again, he would challenge him to a duel later.

He followed her as she wove through the crowd. He didn’t see Baines anywhere nearby, so he relaxed and slowed his steps. He should have forced Aunt Elspeth to come as Diana’s escort, though it was a bit late for her and he knew she did not feel well. His hand settled on his sword again, reminding himself he was a Ramsay, and he could handle any fool who dared to mishandle Diana of Drummond.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t handle Diana.

***

Half an hour later, Diana was in deep despair. She sighed as her gaze raked the courtyard once more, searching—but not finding—the man of her dreams. She had to admit it was probably not Randall Baines, though she refused to admit this to Micheil. Randall could, however, be the solution to her dilemma. She tucked her mantle around her against the chill of the night, her pout definitely certain to send anyone else away.

Well, at least Micheil was not openly following her. He was probably not too far, but she did not need him scaring her man away. Drat the brute for his persistence. She moved over to the merchant’s table where ribbons were being sold, hoping to find some new ones for her hair, as the green she wore tonight was not quite the shade she preferred.

A hand gripped hers from behind and pulled her away. She whirled around, hoping to see Randall behind her, but instead she found herself gazing into the eyes of a beautiful redheaded woman of about her age. Her hair was a much lighter shade than Diana’s.

She smiled and grasped Diana’s hand tightly. “You spoke to him. I saw you.”

Diana peered at the girl, a wee bit wary since she did not have many female friends her age. “Spoke to whom?”

“The handsome one. Why, he is almost a prince. Have not you heard? All the girls are dying to talk to him, to be the chosen one, and he picked you.”

Now she held Diana’s attention. “Who is it you speak of? What handsome one?”

“Randall Baines,” she whispered. “Do not say his name too loudly or the other lasses will listen.”

Diana nodded. “Aye, I did speak with him. What do you know of him?”

Her eyes glittered. “Everyone knows him. He came along with the English crowd for the wedding, and everyone says he searches for his bride. He has not chosen anyone yet. How did you get to be so fortunate? What did he tell you?”

“He told me naught.” Diana was secretly pleased that he had chosen to single her out when there were so many lovely women present. “Who are you?”

“I am Clarissa. I saw him drag you away. Tell me, did he kiss you? What was it like? Do you like him? Do you plan to see him again? Will he come back for you?” Her excitement was contagious, her eyes glowing when she spoke of him.

“I don’t know anything about him, Clarissa. I just met him. He does look like a prince. I am not certain he is truly looking for a bride. Are you sure?” He had said as much, but Micheil had seemed less than convinced. Besides, she did not want to encourage this other girl to think Randall was seeking a bride. She wanted the man for herself. “Who is the knight getting married? I would like to see him, too. Isn’t he handsome as well?” Mayhap she could entice him away. Desperation was a strange motivator.

“Aye, but he is not here. He will be at the tournament tomorrow,” Clarissa said.

“The tournament?” Diana’s heart fluttered at the thought of such a thing. It was as if all the stories she had loved as a young girl were coming to glorious life. She could feel the flush bloom in her cheeks.

“Aye, there will be a tournament on the fields tomorrow, and jousting is the main event at midday where all the knights showcase their talents with a horse and lance. You can watch from the side. Everyone will be there, hoping to see blood and rooting for the Scots or the English. Surely the knight will ask his betrothed to tie her token on the point of his lance. Even though the lances are dulled, it will be great fun. You should come. Maybe Randall is going to join in as well.”

“I would like that. How do I get invited?” Her palms dampened at the thought of attending a tournament and possibly finding her knight in action. Suddenly, Randall did not matter anymore. Her knight would surely be on the field.

“Anyone may attend, but most will be on the fields. The only ones allowed under the tents will be the members of the royal party or the honorees—the groom and his bride. All the others will be on the grounds. But you must come.”

“When is it?”

“High noon. Please say you’ll be there. I will look for you.”

Micheil appeared by her side, a grin on his face. “Good eve to you, my lady.” He nodded at Clarissa and kissed the back of her hand. She covered her face quickly with a linen square and ran off, giggling with pleasure.

Micheil was still grinning after Clarissa left, his gaze following the trim hips as they moved through the crowd.

Diana glared at him. He was such a flirt.

“What’s wrong, my friend?” Micheil smiled at her, his eyes dancing.

“You chase all the lasses, do you not, Micheil?” She narrowed her gaze, suddenly seeing Micheil a bit differently. He was a handsome and charming man to be sure, but she hadn’t realized the depth of his appeal before seeing all the girls swoon over him.

“Well, I would not say all, but I do like to chase a lass or two. Why? Does it bother you? Are you jealous?” He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She frowned. “Nay! I don’t think it’s wise to play with Clarissa. I don’t trust her for some reason.” The girl had been friendly enough to be certain, but Diana did not like her. Something about her seemed strange
.

“No matter. She is gone now. Have you met any interesting Scotsmen?”

“Nay, but I did find out some information. There is jousting during a tournament on the morrow and I would like to go. Clarissa said all the knights will be there.” She crossed her arms to let Micheil know she would not be dissuaded from her decision.

“Jousting, aye? Och, we should definitely be there.” He held his elbow out to her. “Come, enough for this night. We’ll need to prepare you another gown for the tourney.”

Diana hadn’t even thought of that. Of certain, she could not be seen in the same gown. Have mercy, her reputation would be in tatters in an instant. Silently thanking the Lord for Aunt Elspeth, she took his elbow, knowing she would have much work to do that night and on the morrow.