Highland Promise (9 page)

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Authors: Mary McCall

BOOK: Highland Promise
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        Brendan frowned. "Who is Edrik, and why does he worry you?"

        "I shall not discuss this further." She bowed her head and pinched a small bite of crust from the trencher's edge.

        "We will discuss this." He was going to protect her, and she should damn well get used to it.

        She swallowed and choked. He pounded her back as she grabbed the goblet and gulped down some wine. "Stop pummeling my back, you big lout. Do you seek to cause me grief with my brother?"

        "Faith," he gritted out.

        "Oh, all right." She clenched her hands in her lap. "Edrik is the man with the dark-brown hair and pox-marked face at the far right table. He was one of my accusers before Father Abernathy. I always feel like I am in the presence of evil when he is around. Now he is my brother's first commander, and Leland does almost everything Edrik advises. He wants to marry me, but the king just told Leland that Edrik cannot have me. I expect him to retaliate. Are you satisfied?"

        The lass might fight a subject, but she certainly spilled everything once she got started. Brendan clenched his jaw, recognizing the man who had glowered at Faith earlier. Now he needed to do some planning of his own. He had every intention of provoking a fight with the bastard before he left England. Aye, that ruffian would suffer for every past sin against his bride.

        "Do not stare." She tugged on his arm. "He will notice. Edrik notices everything. I cannot have him suspicious. He might tell Leland about—" She abruptly pressed her lips together and shook her head.

        "What will he tell Leland?"

        "A secret I guard," she replied evasively.

        "What secret do you guard?"

        "I cannot say."

        "I will guard your secret."

        "I cannot reveal it. Please do not persist." She trembled and curled her hands into fists in her lap.

        Brendan longed to set her at ease. Faith needed to trust him. Hell, she had trusted him with her life when she asked him to take her to Scotland. He wondered if her secret had anything to do with her disguise. Damn it, they needed privacy for this conversation. "You may keep your secret a while longer, but keep in mind, I am not a patient man."

        "You are an arrogant and determined brute." She glared at him, and he could have sworn he saw waves in the turbulent depths of her eyes.

        He couldn't resist goading her. "So you have informed me. I appreciate that you are generous with your praise."

        "'Twas not praise."

        "But you trust me." It just about killed him not to make it an order, but he knew trust must be earned. And the lass seemed adverse to orders. Another flaw he would have to correct without delay.

        The fight died in her eyes. "'Tis strange, but I think I could come to trust you, Brendan. Truly, I want to tell you my secret, and mayhap I shall later. I think you might even understand. But for now, please let me keep my own counsel."

        "I promised you my protection, Faith. No one, including Edrik, will harm you." He grasped her hand under the table and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Do you believe this?"

        She studied his face, then nodded. "My brother wants me to hate you as he does, but I cannot."

        There was a gentleness about her now. Brendan couldn't resist caressing her cheek with the back of his fingers. Her flesh was warm and soft beneath his touch. "You do not know how to hate."

        She jerked away. "I do too. I am not good at forgiveness either. The convent should help me learn both." She interlaced her fingers with his under the table. "I beg you please limit our contact until we depart. As you have noticed, I am not good at lying, and Leland will give me trouble."

        He didn't think she was aware of her grip on his hand. Shifting his thumb, he massaged her palm. Her pupils dilated. "Ack, lassie, do you not wish to be alone with me? 'Twas you who asked to meet me privately in the garden first."

        Her eyes turned stormy green. "You would mention that. Need I remind you 'twas to return your property?"

        "You will meet me tonight in the garden." He gave the command before he could stop himself, but hell, he wasn't used to defiance.

        She wrenched her hand from his. "I do not take orders from you."

        He grasped her thigh under the table. Its smallness remarkable. He could nearly circle the circumference with his hand.

        She grabbed his wrist with both hands and tugged. "If I agree will you quit hurting me?"

        He hadn't meant to hurt her. Brendan relaxed his grip and massaged the spot. "You are too delicate."

        She pressed her hand over his, trying to stop the massage. "I am not delicate. Are you blind?"

        "Faith." He quickly squeezed her thigh, then lessened his hold and resumed the rub.

        "Oh, all right." She slapped his hand under the table. "I shall meet you if I can get away unnoticed, but not because you ordered me. I shall meet you because I want to. Will you let go of my leg now? 'Tis not proper."

        So she wanted to meet him, did she? Could she truly mean those words, or was it anger speaking?

        "Are you going to release my leg?"

        "I'm thinking about it."

        "Think fast." Faith grabbed his thigh and squeezed.

        Her touch sizzled through his flesh and his loins drew taut. He noticed the pulse bounding in her throat. "You are naive, lass."

        "I am not," she countered smugly. "I am cunning. 'Tis one of my flaws."

        "Cunning is not a flaw, and I meant you are innocent, else you would not be so bold with your hand."

        Her narrowed gaze should have singed him. "You are bold with your hand, and I do not like it."

        "You do too." He blew against her ear. "Your heart races, your stomach flutters, and you feel pleasurable tingles from my fingers on you."

        Her jaw slackened. "How do you know that?"

        "I like your hand on me too." He arched a wicked brow. "I wouldn't mind if you moved it a little higher."

        Faith paled. "You are flirting with me?"

        "Would you like me to do more?"

        She yanked her hand from his thigh and a spot on her un-floured neck turned crimson. "I did not realize... You will make me daft before we reach Scotland."

        Obviously, no one had flirted with her before, and her innocence gladdened him. "You like being with me though."

        Her brows gathered with irritation. "Aye, I do like being with you, and 'tis a mystery to ponder. You are the meanest-looking man I have ever encountered. You never smile. You are contrary. And you give too many orders. I should not like you at all. Mayhap I shall quit. What think you of that?"

        "If I smile, your brother will think I enjoy your company. You do not want that. And you like being with me because I treat you like a woman." And right now he wanted to kiss her ripe lips until she couldn't think at all. Damn it all, he wanted the lass. He didn't like that one bit.

        All he had set out to do was follow his king's order to wed an Englishwoman. His intentions had been simple. He would take her home, beget a few heirs, and forget the lass. Liking her and wanting her had never entered his mind. Somehow he didn't think he would be able to ignore Faith so easily. She was creeping into his blood. He'd seen too many good warriors lose their edge because they came to care for women. He'd have to keep up his guard so the same thing didn't happen to him. He already had enough headaches because of his younger sister.

        "Why do you?" she asked.

        "Why do I what?" he grumbled, trying to sort out his own confusion.

        "Treat me like a woman. None of the other men do. They ignore me. There are so many beautiful women here." She appeared genuinely baffled.

        "Faith," he whispered in his sexiest timbre.

        She leaned toward him and gazed deeply into his eyes. "Aye, Brendan?"

        "I am fascinated by your wart."

~ * ~

        Something must have prevented the lass from coming. If nothing else, he believed her to be honest to a fault. Brendan paced alongside some withering rose shrubs at the back of the garden and rubbed the tension from the nape of his neck. He would give her a few more moments. If she didn't appear, he would haunt her quarters until he learned why she hadn't met him.

        "Laird Sutherland?"

        He halted and faced a plump, gray-haired woman, who was obviously a servant. "Aye?"

        "I am Noreen, Lady Faith's maid." The woman moved closer and dropped her voice to a whisper. "She'll not be coming. Her brother blistered her ears for speaking so much to you at dinner. Then he confined her to her chamber."

        "He locked her in?" he demanded, scowling.

        "He set Edrik to guarding the lass. Your own man is watching, though that brute Edrik hasn't spotted him yet." Drawing herself to her full, insignificant height, Noreen met his gaze. "What I'm wanting to ken is if you are serious. I'm thinking you are, but I'm wanting to hear you say so."

        Brendan planted his fists on his hips and frowned at her. "You question me, woman?"

        "Forgive me, laird. But I am old enough to be your mother, and I'm just looking out for the lass. She is like me own daughter, and you did give

her your plaid after all."

        Catching the light burr in her voice, he raised a brow. "Where do you hail from, Noreen?"

        "I was reared a Lowland Crawford," she proudly declared.

        "Then you should know I have decided to keep the lass."

        Noreen grinned. "I reckoned. Milady does not ken yet. I explained things, but she can be hardheaded. You ken she is set on being a nun?"

        "A notion she'll soon forget," he replied arrogantly.

        "I can see why you've got the lass in such a whirl." She chuckled and rubbed her hands in delight. "She cannot manage you like her brother, and 'tis driving her daft. You'll be good for her, you will."

        "I thought she feared her brother?"

        "Not Leland. Rawlins was different. He is dead now, praise the Almighty. Leland never expected to be baron. He is much the scholar and has always ignored Faith, letting her run the holding so he wouldn't be bothered. The lass can wheedle her way around him as long as Edrik stays out of her way."

        "She will not have to worry about either of them much longer. Do you wish to accompany the lass to the Highlands?"

        "Saint Andrew bless you, but my old bones would never make the climb, nor tolerate the cold. There will be a new Lady Hawkhurst soon who will have wee bairns who will need me. I'll be helping you all I can though. 'Tis glad I am to ken my lass will have such a strong protector." She glanced about then flashed him a grin. "I best get back, or the lass will worry that Edrik is giving me trouble."

        "'Tis more likely she will think the trouble comes from me."

        "Nay, Laird Sutherland. You have a good heart. The lass does not ken the ways of men and is confused. But I imagine you will teach her. Then she will ken you for what you are. A good laird." Noreen departed.

        Brendan watched the crafty maid until she was out of view. Then he did something he rarely did. He grinned. He had expected boredom during this sojourn at court. If Faith was confused now, it would be interesting to see how she would respond to a well-planned assault. Aye, he would lay siege to her passions. He would map out his strategy and woo the lass.

        This might be almost as much fun as a feud.

        He started up the path toward the garden entrance and sighed. The last thing he wanted was another evening spent in the English court.

        "Wait, Bren. I require a moment with you," the Gaelic command delivered in a distinctive Roman accent surprised Brendan, especially because it came in feminine tones. He peered into the shadows.

        Without a sound, a small shapely woman dropped from the branches of an aged oak. She wore a short, black gown that met the top of long, black boots that extended to mid-thigh. If her attire wasn't enough to shock him, the black paint completely covering her face, chest, and arms was. With her black hair, all he could really see were the whites of her very dark eyes. To top it off, the lass was armed to the teeth. A sword hilt extended above each shoulder. Her belt held four daggers, a sling with two rock pouches, and a coiled whip. The woman carried herself with all the confidence of a warrior as she approached.

        She stopped an arm's length away, inspected him from top to bottom, then flashed him a pearly white grin. "I must say you grew big."

        The lass obviously didn't intend to attack him. He clasped his hands behind his back and stared at her thoughtfully. "Who are you?"

        "I am not surprised you do not remember me. 'Twas long ago when we met. I am the reigning monarch of Arturia, Tribuna of the First Alpine Legion of the Holy Roman Empire, and leader of The Sons and Daughters of Sophia."

        "I thought the Sons and Daughters merely myth."

        "Many think that. I would say pinch me to see that I am real." Her grin widened. "But then I would have to kill you."

        A royal with humor seemed a paradoxical notion. "Why does a queen lurk in the shadows?"

        She cocked her head at a saucy angle. "One Highlander to another?"

        "You may speak Gaelic, but with that accent you can't expect me to believe you are a Highlander," he said impatiently. Why was this woman here, and why was he bothering with her?

        "My kingdom is in the Alpine region of the Holy Roman Empire and extends to the Roman Sea," she conceded. "Not only are my mountains bigger than yours, but my imbecile of a husband is a Caledonian Highlander. And I lurk because Henry is a pig and I irritated him. He was stupid enough to place a price on my head, so I must show him I can come and go without fear. I intend to redecorate his chamber before I leave. But truly, I came to this detestable country to take care of an ecclesiastical matter for my uncle, and to save my sister from making the biggest mistake of her life. I find you court her and I wish to know why."

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