Highland Hope (Wild Thistle Triology Book 1) (18 page)

Nora sunk into the chair defeated and uncharacteristically silent. Hope was certain Nora knew something that hadn’t been shared. Unease prickled up her spine and she nearly allowed the maid to keep her secret in fear of learning the truth of what had upset her maid so. Her stomach clenched and churned. But the desire to ken defeated the desire to remain blissfully ignorant and she found herself squeezing Nora’s hands and saying, “You must tell me.”

The maid tore her hands from Hope’s grip and twisted them together in angst. “I can’t,” she cried as tears gathered in her eyes. “I can’t.”

Hope stood. “You must. I have to know and you ken it.”

Nora’s gaze held Hope’s. Pain, regret, and fear lay deep within her eyes. The fear proved contagious as Hope’s nerves drew taut. What could possibly be so horrid that a brave and strong woman such as Nora was full of fear?

“Forgive me,” the maid said as she glanced upward and Hope assumed toward her parents. “Sit, ‘twill be easier to understand if you doona have to worry about falling on yer arse.”

Truly intrigued, Hope sat as Nora bade.

“Before we fought Clan Mungo, your father was going to unite the clans. Make us stronger as one instead of two clans that were always in the midst of war.” Nora shrugged as she began to pace. “That didn’t sit well with the council. They fought it, with much argument. Och, they fought hard.” She stopped pacing and gripped the edge of the chair and leaned forward.

Confused, Hope tried to remember a time they weren’t at odds with Clan Mungo. In her memory, there was never a time. “Go on.”

“The council disregarded—I’ve said too much, lass. I can’t say more. There will be consequences.” Nora scurried from the room without nary a backward glance.

“Nora! Nora!” Hope called. “Come back here.”

She raced after the maid and was waylaid by MacKerry. He gripped her shoulders as he saved her from falling backward.

“Let go,” she said as wrenched out of his clutch. “I have to fetch Nora.”

MacKerry glanced down the hall. “It looks as if she doesn’t want to be fetched.”

“MacKerry,” Hope hissed. “Out of my way.”

He released her, held up his hands in mock defeat, and stepped out of her way. “Go easy, laird. Go easy.”

And just what did he mean by that? Hope had no inkling as to the workings of a man’s brain, but MacKerry was evidence that men spoke in more riddles than women.

As she rushed through the keep in search of Nora, she was stopped by several clansmen who stated their excitement of the past few days.

She looked in the kitchen and had just missed Nora. After she searched the stables, livestock area, and the sewing room, Hope decided to wait until mealtime in order to confront the blasted woman. For she kenned Nora never missed the evening meal.

She straightened her back and headed to meet with Liam. The blasted man would have his say either in the privacy of the meeting room or in the main hall. And Hope certainly preferred the meeting room, to be sure.

When she entered, Liam was filling a tumbler.

“Care for one, m’laird?”

She shook her head and sat in her father’s chair. “Out with it, Liam.”

He chuckled as he sat and tipped his head to her. “Aye, right to business.” He took a long draw of whiskey than stared at her as if he were truly seeing her for the first time. “’Tis the truth of it, m’laird, I had thought ye leading the clan was a wretched idea.”

She grinned despite herself. “I don’t think you’ve ever kept that opinion to yourself, Liam.”

He shrugged and a wry grin creased his face. “Ye have the right of it.”

“What do you want?” she asked with a heavy amount of irritation added to her tone.

“Ah,” he said as he wagged a finger at her. “The other council members would like to ken the result of the competition, m’laird. In fact,” he said with a slight chuckle, “they would like to ken before the rest of the clan.”

She stood and paced before the table. “You were there when MacKerry won. What do you think my answer is?”

He grimaced. “Och, just because ye kissed the man doesn’t mean ye’ll marry him.”

She faced the man and simply said, “He won, Liam.”

“So, ye’ll keep yer promise.”

Hope sighed. “You’ll have to wait until the evening meal to hear my decision.”

Liam rose, his gaze never leaving her. ’Twas anger flaring in his rheumy eyes. “Ye’d do better to work with us, then against us, m’laird.”

The utter gall of the man. With a quick step she was at his side. “As I see it, you’ve always worked against me, and my father.” ’Twas the truth of it and with the way Nora was acting, mayhap she may just have evidence of what Hope had worried and suspect all along.

The auld man sputtered and held up his hands is if he were merely jesting. “Yer mistaken, m’laird. All has been done for the clan. Me clan is me heart.”

She scoffed and crossed her arms before her chest. “You do not have a heart, Liam.”

He clutched his chest. “You wound me, laird.” But he didn’t seem insulted, nay, he seemed as if he was enjoying the banter. “But what I say is true. The clan is always first in my mind.”

“We’ll see about that.” Hope nodded and left the chamber. Her mind less at ease as suspicion about Liam’s motives played in her mind. Too many times the man had tried to interfere with her role as laird and he always said he represented the entire council. ’Twasn’t the case, Hope kenned, since others had confided in her over the past several years. Her mother always took the information in stride and spoke with Liam. But now her mother was gone and Hope knew Liam would most likely increase his interference.

She smiled thinking how he festered with irritation since she didn’t tell him her decision. Och, he’d have to wait until the rest of the clan was told.

Truly, she was perplexed as to why he didn’t already ken. ’Twas obvious in her opinion, but men were sometimes oblivious to the nuisances of women and their feelings.

But she was certain MacKerry kenned her thoughts and feelings.

’Twas obvious in his kisses.

The day flitted by as if it had no care and the day was wont to last forever. Hope was anxious to speak with Nora, but each time she spied the vexatious woman, she was surrounded by others or just scrambling off to gather more food for the festivities. But Hope didn’t miss the drawn look about her, the way she glanced worriedly when one of the council strode by or when she saw Hope. ’Twas truly puzzling.

Regardless, she feigned a smile and nodded when needed in conversation.

“Tisn’t like you to ignore a challenge.”

Hope looked at her sister Faith. “What?”

Faith’s eyes widened. She motioned to the men at the back of the main hall. “They’ve been challenging you to a game. Haven’t you heard them?”

She hadn’t, not that she’d admit so to her sister. “I’m too tired for games.”

Faith looked aghast at the suggestion that Hope would ever admit to being tired, especially too tired to participate in games. “Are ye ill?”

Hope chuckled. “Nay. Just busy with clan business.” She waved off Faith’s concern when MacKerry walked into the main hall and his gaze sought and held hers. Tendrils of heat ignited in her stomach and she braced herself as she took in the man before her.

She noticed he was clean-shaven and his hair was slicked back, but not tethered. As her gaze traveled further, she took in the crisp white shirt tucked into the familial tartan. His broad shoulders strained the seams of the shirt making him look manly and strong. The tartan stopped at his knees where it met the top of his black boots. They didn’t hide the strength of his limbs. His legs were thick with muscle and she admired that about him. His strength and fortitude.

As he paced forward, female eyes followed him. Hope banked any jealousy she felt, knowing it was foolish. But when a brazen serving lass approached him and gave him a tumbler of ale, Hope stood.

By Saint Elizabeth, the lass sauntered too close, cast a provocative glance along his form, and was too comely to suit Hope.

And didn’t Aidan MacKerry smile gratefully at the lass? As good as he pleased in front of the entire clan. It was as if he’d sent her an invitation with the way she nodded toward him and swished her hips as she strode away.

Men approached MacKerry. Slapped his back and laughed when MacKerry spoke. What she wouldn’t give to be part of the conversation.

After a few moments, he made his way toward her.

She crossed her arms before her chest.

“How are you, laird?”

She picked up her tumbler and took a healthy sip. She nodded to Connor and then Liam as they held up their tumblers in salute.

MacKerry leaned down close to her ear. His scent overpowered her with its woodsy flavor.

“I asked you a question,” he said softly, in a velvet whisper sounding both dangerous and sensual. “Do you think to ignore me all eve?”

The heat of his breath and closeness befuddled her and she almost slipped beneath the spell of his masculinity and handsomeness.
Almost
.

If it weren’t for the serving lass making her way toward the main table, Hope would have smiled and spoke to MacKerry. Instead, she pulled away and turned toward her sisters.

They were watching Hope with rapt attention. When Faith spoke to Honor in a lowered voice, Hope wished she could hear what they were saying.

“Is there any other needs ye have, Aidan?”

The purr of the wench’s voice scratched down Hope’s spine.

“Nay,” Aidan said curtly while keeping his gaze on Hope and pulling her closer. “Would you care to dance?”

She looked to the serving wench, then to MacKerry. Hope said, “Aye.”

MacKerry led her to the area just beyond the dais that was quickly filling up with people getting ready to dance the reel.

The music struck up as the pipes, drums, and flutes created a flurry of sounds which incited the group to engage in the lively dance.

Many more joined and spilled out into the bailey. Aidan steered them toward a quiet area well away from the dancers.

“I thought you wanted to dance.”

He chuckled, the husky melody warmed her. “I wanted to be alone with you.”

She cocked a brow and slipped out of his embrace. “And not the lass who served you ale?” She was being an
eejit
, she kenned. But the urge to do so was too hard to fight.

Again he chuckled. Did the man know how much the sound thrilled her? How it eased around her in a shawl of warmth and longing? And how she fought the attraction due to the uncertainty of—of just about everything? She rubbed the back of her neck. ’Twas too much to consider. The murdered lad. MacKerry’s past and present, to be honest. And the cryptic way Nora was speaking. ’Twas close to overwhelming and she didn’t trust herself with any of the decisions. Och, she felt like a wee lass, but she missed her mother’s guidance and love so much.

“She didn’t interest me, to be sure.” He traced his finger along her arm sending shivers down her spine. Aidan clasped her hand. He swung her hand up and kissed each knuckle, softly, slowly.

Och, what it did to her. It was as if it were nearly summer and the spring behind the keep turned from icy cold to hot bath of pleasure. “And what does interest you, Aidan?” she whispered.

He pushed her hair from her face, cradled her cheek with his hand. “Lovely lairds with bewitching green eyes and soft skin.”

She blushed and he grinned. “Have you always liked lairds?” she teased.

He chuckled. “Nay, ’twas a laird or two I’d rather liked to kill.”

He tensed and she searched his face as anger shifted over his features then fled as if she imagined his ire.

She reached forward and touched the skin peeking from the vee of his shirt. “Tell me, my husband to be, why would you wish to kill a laird.”

A grim line straightened his lips. “Not all are as fair as you, m’laird. Some treat young lads wretchedly. Locking them in small cupboards and forcing them to slave hour after hour.” His features darkened. “Ridicule them before the clan until others begin to treat him like a dog.”

Bitterness had taken over his light tone and she furrowed her brow over the story he told. “Surely a father or mother would protect their lad?”

With a quick shake of his head, he continued, “Nay, not if the mother was nowhere to be found and the father lay weak with fear and sorrow.”

“Och, Aidan. What a horrible time you’ve had of it.”

He sighed and rested his forehead against hers. “Not to worry, m’laird. A lad will never face such consequence if I am near.”

She smiled at him tenderly. “Aye, I can see you are a protector.”

His brow lifted as if he were contemplated what she’d said. Hope had meant ever word. She’d had the love of both parents when she was a lass and after her father’s death, she’d still had the devotion of her mother. It broke her heart Aidan had been treated so horribly and if she’d kenned him when he was a lad, she’d surely champion him.

“I will protect you, Hope.
As I pledge
.”

His words filled her with warmth and the blossoming of affection which lay far past physical attraction.

Aidan pulled her closer. The hard expanse of him left her breathless as she marveled over how each part of her fit perfectly with him. Each breath he took raked his muscles against her, each beat of his heart matched her own.

His arousal pushed against her groin and her breath quickened at the thought of how the strength of the man was certainly impressive and not limited to his legs and arms.

He kissed her as she thrilled at being so close, so alive, and so wanted. Each nip, caress, and lick, sent flames racing through her blood. He delved and she opened to him, invited him to take advantage and leave nothing unplundered.