Highland Grace (18 page)

Grasping Branwenn’s limp hand, Laird Donald
murmured, “Branwenn? Can you hear me, lass?”

Reys took the dampened cloth from the servant
and gave it to Laird Donald to place on Branwenn’s brow.

Branwenn’s eyes fluttered open. The face of
Laird Donald swam before her a moment before she finally focused.
Confused, she struggled to sit up.

Laird Donald put his arm around her shoulders
and helped her adjust her position.

“What happened?” she asked dazedly, taking
the damp cloth away from her face and tucking it in her other hand,
which lay limp in her lap.

“You swooned, my dear,” her grandmother
said.

Branwenn’s eyes made a slow scan of the faces
of those huddled around her. When they settled on Reys, her head
jerked back and she let out a short gasp. In a rush, the memory of
their conversation flooded back. Without realizing she was doing
it, she held out her hand and grasped her grandmother’s wrist.

Her grandmother’s sharp gaze settled first on
Branwenn and then on Reys as she soothed Branwenn’s tensed fingers
with a stroke of her own. “Has this young man done something to
offend you, Branwenn?” she asked stiffly. “He shall certainly be
made to leave forthwith, if such is the case; doubt it not, my
dear.”

Reys remained silent, but his eyes held alarm
and question as they fastened on Branwenn’s countenance.

Branwenn shook her head. “Nay, Grandmother,
Reys has done naught wrong. I must have risen too quickly and
become a bit dizzy. Releasing her grandmother’s wrist, she held her
hand out to Reys and asked, “Will you help me to rise, sir? I
believe my spell is well past now.”

With a quick nod, Reys did as she
requested.

“Will you play for us now?” Branwenn asked.
She could not take her eyes from the man’s visage. The longer she
gazed upon it, the more she was convinced of their relationship. In
fact, there was such a strong resemblance, she was amazed now that
neither she nor the others had seen it immediately upon his
arrival. But she was not yet ready to make known this twist in her
life’s tale. First, she wanted to know his reasons for looking for
her. Did he plan some mischief, or was his search simply in answer
to a need he felt to find a long-lost sibling?

“Aye, with pleasure, m’lady,” Reys replied,
his mien kind, less tense than the moment before. He turned,
retrieved his instrument and descended the dais. Settling by the
warmth of the hearth’s fire, he began to play. With a voice clear
and true he sang in his native tongue:

Hearken, sweet skylark…

When the last note was sounded, Branwenn
clapped her hands with glee. “That was lovely. Will you play
another?”

“I don’t think that a good idea, lass,” her
grandmother said. “Not after the tumble you just took. I think it
better that we find our beds instead and get our rest. The day has
been long, and the night, longer still.” Looking toward Reys a
brief moment before turning back to Branwenn, she continued, “And
I’m sure this young man would be pleased to get some sleep as
well.”

Disappointed, Branwenn replied, “Aye,
Grandmother.”

Her grandmother turned back to their guest
and said, “I’ve had a chamber prepared for you in the north tower.
I shall send a servant along with you to light your way. Mayhap,
you’ll play for us again on the morrow?”

“Aye, m’lady, if it please you. My thanks for
the warm lodgings this bitter eve. ‘Tis been awhile since last I
rested in such luxury.”

“You must stay here as long as you wish, lad.
You’ve a wan look about you that bodes ill for your health.
Traveling further in the ice and snow will only worsen your
condition, I trow.”

“My thanks, m’lady, for your hospitality,” he
replied before departing with the servant that had been summoned to
lead him to his bedchamber.

“What a courteous young man our first footer
is,” her grandmother said to Laird Donald as he escorted her and
Branwenn up the stairs to their chambers. “And, as the legend
decrees, the new year is ripe with promise since he stepped o’er
our portal.”

“Aye,” Laird Donald agreed. “And he’s a
talent with that stringed instrument as well. I’ve a want to hear
much more of his playing o’er the next days until I depart. His
voice is one of the best I’ve heard.”

Branwenn was deep in thought. She had to tell
Bao of this discovery as soon as possible. She’d love to wake him
now, but she dared not. Not with Jesslyn in the same room. Tho’ she
loved her sister-in-law dearly, this was not something that she
wanted to share with her right away. She needed Bao, needed his
strength and his insight. But, most of all, right this very moment,
she needed her brother’s strong arms around her, comforting her and
telling her everything would be all right. Because, tho’ she knew
instinctively it was true, Reys was not the brother of her heart,
the brother who’d raised her from a babe, who’d saved her life,
who’d protected her, who’d cared for her, who’d sacrificed his
freedom for her. Nay, he was kin by blood, but not by love. Not
yet, at least. And mayhap, he never would be, if his motives for
finding her were for some foul purpose.

They halted outside the door to Branwenn’s
chamber. “Good night to you, lass, and happy
Hogmanay
,”
Laird Donald said before bending down and giving her a kiss on her
cheek.

“Branwenn, you look as worn as an old woolen
rag. Get some sleep, my dear. There’s much to do on the morrow to
clean the keep of the remnants of our celebration,” Lady Maclean
said. And then she, too, gave Branwenn a kiss, adding a quick hug
as well. “You’re a good lass. I hope you enjoyed your first
Hogmanay
feast with us.”

Branwenn nodded and swallowed a yawn. “Aye,
Grandmother. I had a fine time. I especially enjoyed the dancing
earlier—until Callum decided to meddle and destroyed my good
humor.”

“Fret not. You’ll dance again when we
celebrate
Bealltainn
in a few moons time.”

Branwenn nodded. “Good night, then.” She
entered her chamber and closed the door behind her. She was torn.
Part of her wanted to wait until her grandmother was abed and then
find the chamber where Reys had been settled and question him more
fully about his proclamation. But the other, more weary, part of
her simply wanted to rest. Her grandmother was right; they had had
a very long day. And she was exhausted. Her weariness won the
battle and she prepared for bed. Surely, they’d find a way to have
a privy discussion some time on the morrow. And besides, that would
give her time to speak with Bao first as well. Mayhap, ‘twould be
better if he accompanied her when she questioned this new-found
brother of hers. Aye, that seemed the best solution.

Her worries put aside for the moment,
Branwenn went to bed. And dreamed she was a water nymph living in a
sea cave, an auburn-haired, green-eyed warrior, her mate.

* * *

Early the next morn, long before the bells of
matins rang, Lara stormed across her bedchamber, her arms crossed
over her chest and her lips curled in derision. She had no desire
to aid the ladies of the keep with whatever duties needed doing
after the feast of the night before. And she would be obliged to do
it, she was sure, should she leave her chamber for any length of
time once the household had awakened. She would much prefer to
wander the outer perimeter of the keep in search of a likely
candidate for her new pursuit. Most of the men had been released
from their duties this day and ‘twas the perfect opportunity for
her to find a suitable lover.

She’d slept little after Callum and she had
exchanged words last eve. He’d left their chamber a couple of hours
ago and never returned, so she assumed he’d found a bed in another
part of the keep. Which suited her needs perfectly.

She chewed on her thumbnail. Mayhap, with a
bit of wile, she might sneak out. She could go to the stables and
have her horse saddled, and then take a ride on the glen. Aye,
‘twas still black as pitch, but many of her best trysts had started
in just this way.

Tho’ the snow was a bit deep, she should be
able to cross the landscape, if she was careful. The thought of
staying in her chamber all day made her skin crawl. She simply
could not be cooped up in this tiny room for hours on end without
losing her mind. And, if she were cunning enough, she might just
enjoy a tryst with a strong young warrior to help her while away
the day.

Her plan firmly set, she rushed to the chest
that held her fur-lined gown and cloak and quickly changed into
them. With any luck at all, she’d be riding a young buck within the
hour.

* * *

A knock came on the door just as the first
bell of matins rang out and Bao jerked awake. After a quick glance
at Jesslyn to see that she still slumbered, he rose and opened it
with care. “Callum,” he whispered, “What need you?”

“Have you seen my wife? She’s not in our
chamber, but no one knows where she went,” Callum replied in like
tones.

Bao shook his head. “Nay, I’ve not seen her.
She wasn’t in the great hall?”

“Nay. Nor the solar, nor the kitchens, nor
any other corner of the keep.” He looked down the darkened passage
toward the stairs. “Where could she have gone?”

“Did you check the stables? Mayhap she went
for a ride,” Bao said.

Callum’s eyes widened. “I pray not. ‘Tis
barely light out and there is much snow on the ground.” He whipped
around, saying, “I must find her. She may be endangering our babe,”
and rushed toward the stair.

“Wait! I’ll go with you,” Bao said loud
enough for Callum to hear.

His cousin halted and gave him a nod.

“We should first go to the stables. If her
mare is missing, then we’ll know she’s gone for a ride,” Bao
said.

“Aye. But we must make haste.”

“I’ll be dressed and ready before the taper
burns half of a quarter down,” Bao replied.

* * *

Bao and Callum moved carefully between the
deep snowdrifts that covered the uneven land. The gatekeeper had
told them that Callum’s wife had left on horseback near an hour and
a half past, alone, and that she’d headed toward the glen that
bordered the loch. But when he and Callum had searched the glen,
they’d found tracks made by two sets of horses’ hooves. Bao looked
at his cousin’s tensed jaw and wondered with whom Callum would find
his wife this time. ‘Twas likely a man, for she seemed more than
determined to cuckold her husband.

They were not far from the ruin where Maryn’s
attacker had taken her the day he’d tried to murder her. A niggling
suspicion entered his head and he turned his horse in the direction
of the ruin.

“Where go you?” his cousin called out,
turning his horse to follow.

“Remember you the old roman ruin?” Bao said
over his shoulder. “She might be there.”

“To the ruin, then.”

* * *

Lara lay on top of her fur-lined mantle, on
her back in the remnants of an ancient stone building where her
newfound lover had brought her earlier. The three walls that
weren’t tumbled into rubble gave them enough privacy, but the floor
was snow-covered earth and there was no roof to the place. Her eyes
stared up at the cloudless sky as the young warrior pushed himself
inside of her, rocking against her as he panted and moaned.

Naught. She felt naught. Would he never
finish? She was ready to ride back to the keep, thoroughly
disgusted with the outcome of this tryst.

She’d picked him because of his bulk. After
the thrill she’d received with Bao’s manhood, she’d always striven
to find others of comparable size. And she had found one today—but
‘twas not the same. Oh, she’d trembled at that first sensation of
pain when he’d taken her the first time, but it hadn’t been enough
to give her the intense pleasure she craved. So she’d made him take
her twice more, but it wasn’t working. And now, the initial
excitement had completely palled, leaving only a vague feeling of
revulsion in its wake. How ugly men were when they rutted. But she
had encouraged him this last time to be rough with her, and he was
taking great pleasure in that, it seemed. And, with any luck, it
might cause her to lose this whelp of her stepbrother’s making that
she had no desire to carry any longer. That possibility was worth
her current disappointment. “Are you almost done? I’ve grown weary
of your fucking.”

“Bitch! You know you like this,” he rasped,
grinding even more deeply into her as punishment.

Lara winced and then laughed bitterly. “Nay,
I do not. Make haste, I need to get back to the keep.”

“So you like it fast, do you?” he said, and
then he slammed against her mons in rapid, harsh strokes, thrusting
deep, until, finally, his movements became jerky and, on a long
groan, he erupted inside of her again. His breath coming hard now,
he rolled to his side, his arm flung over his eyes and said naught
further.

Lara rose and straightened her skirts. When a
shadow fell over her, she looked toward the door. “He raped me,
Callum! Kill him!” she cried, flinging herself into her husband’s
embrace.

“You lying cunt! You begged me for it!” the
young warrior shouted as he shoved his manhood back into his braies
and struggled to rise to his feet.

Her husband thrust her behind him and Bao
took hold of her upper arm, then dragged her away from the scene,
forcing her to stand with him near the place their horses were
tethered.

* * *

A battle cry erupted from Callum’s lips as he
rushed the other man, pushing him against the back wall with a
“
whoof
” and a sharp right hook to the jaw. He pummeled into
the man’s abdomen with his fist and pressed his forearm into the
man’s neck, nearly strangling him with it. “Whoreson! You’ll die
this day by my bare hands!”