Highland Hope (Wild Thistle Triology Book 1) (14 page)

The lairdship was his right.

Leaving his sword on the ground, Aidan paced to the main gate in the palisade wall. He inspected the land around them, MacAlister territory. He looked back at the keep and sunlight glinted on his sword. ’Twas his only valuable possession. He returned and grabbed it, then left the bailey.

He needed to breathe, not the fresh lavender scent which seemed to follow in Hope’s wake, but the smell of Scotland. Rich loamy earth, pine so aromatic that you felt as if you were lying in a bed of newly dropped needles, and of the Sound of Sleat. Aye, the water drew him as if he were a fish himself. Aidan paced down the stairs carved into the stone cliffs. As his feet hit the small stretch of sandy beach, he cast a glance over his shoulder to ensure he was alone and stripped off his tartan and linen shirt.

A breeze from the north brought a cooling wind as he dove into the churning sea, the water washed away the foul taste in his mouth. He aptly stroked to a rock that jutted out of the dark sea and lifted onto its surface.

From this angle, he could see the imposing stone wall of the keep, nearly as tall as the pines shrouding it and he knew wider than its length. As if he were already laird, Aidan inspected the land like an owner, one with pride. If only his father had lived to see this day. Och, ’twould make him smile when all he’d done was wear a worrisome frown after Aidan’s mother left them and then his tongue went bitter after they’d heard of her death.

Again he inspected the keep with a scowling glance. There were fewer guards on this day and Aidan wondered if his presence had something to do with the lack of protection. But he couldn’t fathom why.

Did the council have something to do with this? They spoke of past confrontations with other clans, and Hope had said they’d had peace since her father died, but Clan Mungo was itching for a fight. Was Liam teasing their enemies? Even a child could see that two guards ’twasn’t enough. And what about the lad they found stabbed to death? Did they not fret a murderer was loose among their wives and children?

Aidan knew he was being used by both Hope and the council. In his mind, he thought ’twas the easiest way to reclaim his birthright. Yet instinct warned him to tread lightly and alert both parties he wasn’t a pawn.

He leapt into the temperamental water and swam to shore. He quickly donned his clothing. Climbing the steep path that led to the keep, Aidan focused on approaching both the council and Hope.

He wouldn’t be used any more.

From now on, he was in charge.

Chapter 13

She watched him arrive through the main gate. His hair slicked back, shirt slightly wet. Aidan MacKerry walked through the bailey with a cocksure stride. Aye, the strength of his step and pure determination in the tilt of his jaw warned her, nay, told her he was vexed.

And when he was vexed, he was magnificent.

He glared straight ahead and walked with a confidence few men possessed. His broad shoulders held rigid as he passed clansmen and even wee Emma didn’t garner a kind smile or wink. Nay, MacKerry continued toward the main hall with the determination of a man bent on a mission, one she surely wouldn’t like from the looks of it. 

A shiver ran up her spine. Her heart raced as it beat against her chest and her breathing came in low puffs. She clutched her chest, what was happening to her?

Hope pulled back from the narrow window when Aidan tipped his head in her direction. Had he felt her inspection? Heat flooded her face at the thought. The pleasure of his appearance fought with her ability to reason.

Instead of brooding over MacKerry, Hope made her way to the kitchen to ensure all was going well. Nora had balked at the amount of food preparations, but Hope knew ’twas her nature to grumble at least a wee bit, even if she was pleased.

Hope worried about the older woman. She was lost without Catriona, even though she was needed now more than ever by Honor, Faith, and even Hope herself. She planned to have a heart to heart with Nora as soon as she was able.

“Och, just who I wanted to see,” Hope said as she entered the large cooking area. Nora turned toward her and pulled a quick grin.

“Aye, and what would ye have me do now? Aren’t I already doing more than half the clan?” Although her tone was sour, humor filled her rheumy gaze. “Would you want me to be hunting?”

“Nay, I’ll leave that to Faith,” Hope responded with a grin of her own.

Nora tipped up her chin and openly inspected Hope. “Doona be telling me you’ve been fighting with MacKerry again?”

Shamed, Hope shook her head. Didn’t the woman have too much insight? Yet it wasn’t an argument, just the promise of one to come if MacKerry found her.

Battling the urge to reveal all of her feelings to Nora, Hope busied herself by stacking loaves of bread into a large basket. “And just where is Faith?”

“In the bailey, ready to fight all the men just as you do.”

Hope chuckled. “I’ll see to her. I need her to be sensible.”

“You have a better chance of her growing another head, to be sure.” Nora grabbed the basket and headed out of the kitchen and toward the bailey. “Bring the platters,” she called over her shoulder, “I can’t be doing it all, ye ken.”

Doing as asked, Hope grabbed a platter filled with roasted potatoes and fragrant wild onions.

The bailey greeted her with a cacophony of voices. Children ran about, stirring up trouble as they were wont to do. Nora bossed a few lads to do her bidding as she ordered the men to set up trestle tables along the north end of the bailey.

Sound ceased and the clan faded away as her gaze hit on MacKerry. Her awareness was only of him. He’d removed his shirt and his muscle-bound chest glistened with a sheen of sweat. Droplets trickled over his tan skin in tantalizing rivulets of sweet torture. Hope swallowed. As he stretched his arms, she gasped, then quickly glanced about to see if anyone noticed. Aye, he was well formed as his muscles bunched and strained. Bulged delectably, admirably so. He didn’t notice her as he spoke amiably with other men who planned to partake in the festivities and when he laughed, her breath hitched in her throat.

MacKerry’s laughter caught her defenseless, led to a riot of confusion of her nerves and thoughts. Rich and warm, the sound wrapped around her and contradicted who she thought the man to be. The rich tone was manly, but even more than that, sincere.

She wondered what had turned his mood so quickly, since she’d just witnessed his ire when he entered the keep.

Aye, she’d seen him with the children. Heard him speak to her sisters with respect, but just as he’d displayed such character, he’d also allowed a nasty tongue to speak to her.

She was torn between allowing him into her life or exiling him by remaining cold and unyielding.

“I agree.”

Hope turned toward Faith and cocked a brow.

Her sister nodded toward MacKerry. “He’s a grand display of manhood.”

Shocked, Hope could only gape at her sister. For the past two years Hope and her mother had tried to encourage Faith to think about marriage. Each time they mentioned a match, Faith would wrinkle her nose and feign indifference to men.

“Och, you have to agree he’s handsome,” Faith said with disbelief. “Can you at least admit you're attracted to him?” She turned and fully faced Hope. “Or are you still trying to act like Father? All proud and undefeatable. Do you wish to die as he did?”

“What do you mean,” she snarled.

“You ken,” her sister accused as she pointed toward Hope. “Father loved Mother, to be sure. But he thought he could defeat anyone who challenged him. And he made his decisions alone and would listen to no one, not even the clan council.”

Hope scoffed, crossed her arms before her chest and continued to watch MacKerry. “What do you ken? You were just a lass.”

Faith fisted her hands at her waist. “As were you. Did you forget how Mother fought the council and how they pushed her to guide you to rule with them instead of against them.”

Hope glared at her sister, truly at a loss for words. How did one respond to a question when she had no idea of the answer? Her sister’s words were sharp, cruel even. But were they the truth? Uncertainty trembled her nerves. She kept her gaze on MacKerry while thinking further on Faith’s words. Truly, they smarted, like salt rubbed into a fresh wound.

Her father was her hero. Would it be so horrible to live life as he did? Die defending those he cared for?

The horrid scene of her father’s deathbed appeared before her. The ghastly gray of his skin, the fading presence of a man whose heart and soul lived for the clan, and her mother’s sickening wail all battered around her. Nay, she didn’t want to die as her father did, but she did want to live as he did. For his family and for his clan. That was enough for her. Hope held no illusions love would come her way. Her parents’ love was unique and rare. And as pragmatic as she had always been, Hope had never searched for a man who would make her moon over him like a silly lass, like many of her clanswomen did. Did her mother moon like a silly lass? Nay, her mother was strong and a partner to her father.

Hope’s marriage was for convenience. Nothing more, nothing less. MacKerry would suit as her husband. He was strong and able, certainly willing, and Hope had witnessed his empathy for the clan. Unfortunately, trust may never come and now she was beginning to regret the contest so he could prove himself worthy of her. What purpose would it serve? She kenned she’d marry him regardless.

However, if she cancelled the clan would protest the opportunity for festivities, food, and dancing. They enjoyed feasting, fighting, and the opportunity to drink themselves into a stupor. Nay, Hope would not cancel the contest, no matter how confused she was over the matter.

Again her gaze sought MacKerry’s form, his well-modeled features. He stretched and then swung a sword in a large arching motion. His broad shoulders bunched and strained as he moved and her gaze traveled downward to his trim waist, narrow hips and strong legs. Hope watched as he strode toward a pile of weapons. MacKerry’s steps were predatory, aggressive, and the sea of men who’d stop to watch him parted as he neared.

When he retrieved a bow and arrow, hitched the arrow, and then pulled on the bowstring, the crowd ducked. Again the bailey filled with MacKerry’s laughter. Many joined in and Hope found a smile tugging on her mouth.

He had such an ease with the men. A flash of jealously flared before she banked the troublesome emotion. The men listened to her commands and followed her leadership on the training field, but Hope always worried she wasn’t the laird her father was.

“Are you going to join us?”

Startled, Hope hadn’t notice MacKerry making his way in her direction. Embarrassed at being caught unaware, she stiffened her spine and answered, “Later, MacKerry. For now, you’d be better served to practice.”

“Aye, she told you, to be sure?” a man called from the crowd.

MacKerry threw a light-hearted insult back at the man and lifted a brow toward Hope. He walked toward her and after she sent a quelling look in the men’s direction, they disbursed.

“Tell me, Laird MacAlister,” he said in a low whisper as he narrowed his eyes and peered intently at her, then let his gaze slip over her face and down her neck, “will I be fighting
you
tonight?”

She steadied herself before she answered, as nerves tightened along her neck and an inexplicable unease filled her. “I’ll not be joining you in the ring, MacKerry. I’ve an injury that doesn’t allow me to participate.”

He reached for her arm and softly caressed her shoulder. “’Tis a pity,” he said with a sardonic tone.

Her breath quickened and she stepped out of his reach. “Aye, ’tis so. I’d hate to beat you in front of the clan.”

Clansmen chuckled.

He regarded her with an expression she couldn’t name. But Hope it was somewhere in the middle of pleased and irritated.

“Come,” he said. “We need to speak.” Without waiting for a reply, MacKerry left the bailey and headed out of the palisade.

She had no choice but to follow him. But with apprehension she did so. There were still numerous details to attend to and Hope didn’t have time to tarry. Aye, not to mention he made her nervous, to be sure.

MacKerry stood with his back toward the keep and his face toward the sound. The wind raked through his dark hair and pulled his tartan tight against his body. He was still shirtless and he resembled a wild Highlander as he looked into the distance with such a serious expression on his face.

There was an energy, a magnetism, pulsing around him like a shield. Her body thrummed with fervent need that was stoked by the man before her. Stilling her body’s reaction toward him, she stayed at a distance.

He kenned she was watching him and he let her continue without addressing her. If he was to be leading the clan, even in the limited role in which Hope had envisioned, then he’d have to have a semblance of authority.

Indignation settled into his stomach and Aidan had to forget the vision of her grace and beauty. Instead, another vision slipped before him--one of his mother and her smugness, then one of Anne, and again one of his betrothed.

All women with one goal, one vein of thought.

“You wished to speak to me.”

Aidan turned toward her. Her beauty assaulted him as her green eyes watched him without an ounce of trepidation. He swiped his hand along the back of his neck. Hope’s skin shone beneath the caress of the sun and the bite of the wind. Her long hair tangled with the breeze and flew behind as if it were a silky, mahogany sail.

Aye, she was lovely, breathtaking. But he knew the cost of coveting such beauty and of losing to the desires he couldn’t fulfill.

Yet, Aidan had little choice in the matter. He had to marry Hope in order to protect her and the very position he deserved. If he let her know his secret, the council would ensure both of their deaths.

Regardless, the longer he remained at Wild Thistle Keep the more he realized he could never leave. Just as the longer he remained, the more he wondered if he’d lost any and all sanity—as he was warming—nay more than warming to the woman beside him.

Wild Thistle Keep held many secrets. Some he was familiar with, others, he wanted no part of. But they were interlaced, of that he was certain. Now was the time to untangle the deceit, find how the council was involved and how he could ensure Hope’s safety while taking the lairdship.

She’d hate him in the end, but the price of his birthright outweighed her feelings.

No matter how he felt around her or for her, Aidan knew he must sever the thin thread that had begun to unite them, just as he knew he must instill a sense of authority with her.

“Never,” he said with a low rasp, “never speak to me that way in front of the very men I am to lead.”

She thrust her chin at him and fisted her hands at her waist. God, she looked exquisite. The fire within her set a shot of desire, potent lust, through his groin, straight to his stones. Aye, ’twould be difficult to deny his attraction, but in the end he must.

“Men
you’re
to lead?” Grim determination clenched her jaw. “I lead the men, MacKerry. I have no need of your help, you ken?”

He chuckled with a hard edge and countered, “I saw how you train the men. Tell me, laird, does your shoulder still pain you?”

She reached up to slap him. Aidan grasped her wrist. With a growl, he pulled her into his arms and invaded her mouth with a kiss he knew would weaken her knees. She fought him at first, tried to shove him away, but as his tongue played along her lips and devoured the sweet taste of honey, Hope melted toward him, clung to him. Opened her mouth to accept him.

Aidan’s heart rapped against his chest as his betrothed slid her fingers through his hair and tickled them along his neck. Her body pressed against his, full, tantalizing breasts nearly took his breath away. Hope’s hips cradled his loin, so torturously he nearly swept her away from the keep and took her amidst the heather and fragrant lavender.

Their embrace lasted longer than he expected and he took full advantage. Sucking, licking, and sliding his tongue into her hot, moist mouth. Heaven on a bad day, paradise to him now.

A low moan eased from her and if possible, she moved closer to him. As if they were one, they continued to explore each other.

As moments passed, Aidan’s thoughts surged out of control. His mind warned him to stop but his desire pushed him to continue. This woman had begun to possess him. His mind, body, and a wee bit of his reluctant heart.