How to Handle a Highlander (Hot Highlanders) (6 page)

“Ye see it, do ye nae?” Achaius began to let his eyes shut. “Gahan Sutherland wants Bari’s blood, and if I am wed to Moira, I’ll have the best claim to the Fraser land once Bari is dead. There is nae a cousin or a bastard with a close claim. The earl will have to bestow the Fraser lairdship upon the legitimate issue of me union. I need Gahan to have a reason to kill Bari. A valid one would be even better.”

“What if the lass does nae conceive?”

Achaius opened his eyes and waved a hand in the air to dismiss the worry on his captain’s face. “I’ll lock her in a tower and tell one and all that a midwife told me she’s carrying and needs to conserve her strength. Then I’ll buy some whore’s brat to seal the deal. It can die in a few years, leaving the land in Matheson hands. Or live if I need it, but it will be raised to serve me.”

The only way it would have been better was if the land were connected to his own, but he wasn’t going to be picky. It was a stroke of luck, one he planned to enjoy. His breakfast helped him slip off into an early morning nap as his captain left. He needed the rest because he was going to enjoy doing his best to make sure everyone believed he still had the vigor to deflower his young bride.

For a moment, Achaius opened his eyes. His kilt lay smooth and even over his lower body. His member was still soft in spite of the juicy offering Bari Fraser had delivered to him. For a moment he was bitter, resenting what age had stolen from him. The thought of tossing Moira’s skirts should have stiffened his cock and filled him with anticipation. Instead, he was left contemplating how to make sure the sheet was stained come sunrise.

Sutherland’s bastard son had no problem getting stiff at the sight of young Moira.

Achaius forced his resentment aside. Gahan’s interest in Moira might have more than one purpose as well. Not only was the man provoking Bari Fraser into a rage, he would certainly take the secret of any bastard he bred with Moira to the grave. That made him perfect for the chore of ensuring his bride conceived.

If nature wasn’t going to let him enjoy his newest bride, at least age hadn’t stolen his wits to keep him from being able to make sure he gained the most from his newest venture. Life was about profit. Everything else was drivel for women and servants of the Church.

The mews at Matheson Tower were nice. They opened up to let in the fresh morning air and looked to be swept every day. Athena had been given a perch with a water pouch hung from it. There was a long line of perches but only three other hawks. As soon as Moira removed the hood from Athena’s head, she looked at the other birds and cried out in an attempt to accrete her dominance. Moira clicked her tongue.

“What the hell are ye doing talking to Gahan Sutherland?”

Bari was still spoiling for a fight. Moira put Athena back on her perch and turned to face him.

“I should give ye a beating,” he threatened.

Unlike Gahan, Bari never curbed his impulse to strike her. Now that she had a comparison, in her mind, her sibling resembled a weak child.

“What manner of wife do ye expect me to be?”

Her question confused Bari.

“According to the maids, there is no head of house. I will be expected to shoulder the duties. I can hardly do that if I am too timid to hold a conversation with my husband’s guests.”

“Gahan Sutherland is different, and ye know it.”

There was a rage burning in Bari’s eyes that struck her as unnatural. It was too intense and had been there for too long now.

“Nay, I do nae understand.”

“It is none of yer concern!” Bari seemed caught between the need to shout and crumble into despair. His nostrils actually flared with the intensity of his emotions. “Ye have been told what ye need to know. Stay away from Gahan Sutherland.”

Moira dared to allow her amusement to show. “I can hardly control the man. He followed me, and he is the overlord’s son.”

“Ye’ll mind me, Moira!”

Athena didn’t care for the shouting and let out a shrill cry. Bari snapped his head around to look at the bird.

“Or the next time ye come out here, ye’ll find yer precious bird with a broken neck.”

Moira moved in front of Athena. Bari snickered.

“It seems a stroke of luck that ye insisted on bringing it along. Now get back to the keep and take a bath. There’s nothing we can do for how ugly ye are with that common nose, but ye can be clean. Yer wedding is at sunset.” He paused for a long moment. “And ye had best be a virgin. Because if ye aren’t, ye are no use to me at all.”

A feeling of helplessness was growing inside her, and she detested it. At least her temper burned it away, so she let it flare up. “I wish I weren’t one.”

Her brother’s eyes widened with rage.

“And I do nae care if ye do nae like hearing me say it,” she said.

Bari suddenly grinned. His shift in mood stunned her. “Maybe ye are nae such a pitiful peasant after all. There just might be some of our father in ye.” His lips returned to a hard line. “But ye will never hold a candle to what Sandra was.”

Her brother left, lost in his recollections. A chill went through her. Once more she noticed just how unbalanced Bari was. She spent so little time with him that the change was clear. Alba’s desperation became easier to understand. Her brother ignored the maids who served him, but they knew what she had only just noticed. Bari Fraser was obsessed with vengeance. Moira had grown past fearing her brother years ago, but today she had a feeling of dread because it was very possible he was going insane.

Maybe she was lucky to be wedding, because no one on Fraser land would be resting easy if the laird went mad.

***

For all the grandeur Matheson Castle seemed to have on the outside, it was pitifully lacking in bathing facilities. There was no bathhouse and only a few small wooden tubs. Fann set one up in the back part of the kitchen where it was warm and closer to the wells. The cook sent the kitchen boys away so Moira might have some privacy. Somehow, she doubted such a courtesy was extended to anyone else. The cook used one of the keys hanging from her belt to unlock a chest. She pulled out a thick bar of soap, pausing to smell it before handing it to Moira.

The moment Moira stepped out of the tub, the cook climbed in and happily applied the soap to herself. Next went her assistant. Several more tubs were filled, and it seemed every maid was taking the opportunity to bathe. Or perhaps it was more that they considered they had permission, since the soon-to-be mistress had decided it was bathing day.

Mistress…
She didn’t feel like the lady of the house. The title “head of house” felt more fitting. It was clear Achaius was something of a miser. With his last wife dead, he should have elevated one of the staff to the position, but he’d held onto the coin.

Well, she was not used to being idle, so it was a blessing. She just wished it didn’t come with the duty of sharing the old laird’s bed.

It was odd, but she’d never thought much about what went on between men and women. Oh yes, she knew the names both kind and insulting. She understood the mechanics of coupling, but she had no idea of what it might feel like. Some women craved it. Many wives dreaded it.

She sighed and began to learn her way around. The hallways still looked the same to her, and soon she was trying to discover which one connected to which stairway. It was an old custom to keep the hallways identical, a last defense against the inner keep being breached. When the enemy entered, they wouldn’t know which way to go to capture the laird. Those who lived inside the walls learned to find their way with tiny details. Moira tried to focus on finding some, but she was distracted and fretting about the approaching night.

“Ye enjoyed seeing yer brother called a liar.”

Moira turned to find Gahan behind her. The man must have been leaning in one of the doorways. Behind him was the captain she’d come to recognize because he always seemed to be shadowing Gahan.

“And ye do nae deny it.” Gahan lifted a hand and waved his captain away. The man frowned, but a quick glance sent him on his way after a tug on his bonnet. His footsteps stopped just around the corner. That was all the privacy he was willing to allow his laird. Even a man such as Gahan had restrictions placed on him. No doubt his captain wasn’t willing to be the one to tell the Earl of Sutherland that his son had died on his watch.

“I am nae accustomed to being dishonest, in spite of what ye seem to think me nature is. And Bari says many things he should think on before letting past his lips.” The lengthening afternoon shadows left her no attention to give to his attempts to needle her. She was more concerned with the wedding taking place at sunset. Still, Gahan was not a man who had time to waste. Nor was he an idle person given to wasting daylight. He’d sought her out, yet he might have had her summoned. Whatever he craved, he wanted to ask her in private.

“Ye want something from me. What is it?”

Gahan’s expression changed. She ended up staring at him because he’d always been so intense around her that this transformation was startling. He’d dropped his guarded look and appeared almost uncertain.

“I want ye to give me yer hawk,” he said at last. “Make a gift of her to me.”

Surprise held her silent for a moment. Gahan drew in a deep breath and angled his head as he looked down at her.

“Me men will make sure she comes to no harm.”

She gasped. “How do ye know about Bari’s threat?”

He shrugged. “It’s always wise to keep a few of the stableboys friendly with me. I’m sure they will put the silver to good use. Most of them do nae have shoes.”

That was a shame in a castle as great as this one was. Those same boys would man the cannons should there be an attack. They should have been clothed. It was the duty of the laird to see it was done, and a shame that the overlord’s son was noticing it was not done. Achaius was a miser, and that often destroyed loyalty. But she would soon be his wife, and she’d have the power to right the wrong.

“Thank ye for telling me. I’ll see to the boys.” Apparently they were as much in need of her doing her duty as Alba. If she failed to wed Achaius, the Matheson castle folk would continue to suffer, for no one would notice. Her throat tightened, like there was a noose knotted around it.

“And yer hawk?”

“Why do ye offer me help?” Maybe she was being foolish to question him, but she just couldn’t control her curiosity. Maybe it was because he was the only person she could speak her mind to.

He shrugged, and for a moment she was distracted by the way his shoulders moved beneath his shirt. There was something about him that fascinated her and made her heart beat faster. She wanted to look at this man, actually stare at him. It was like being under a spell.

“Maybe I want to strike at yer brother any way possible. Or perhaps I’ll admit that I’ve raised hawks since I was a boy, too, and cannae stomach knowing yer brother will harm one out of spite. I dare say, if he were in your shoes, he’d nae be standing as straight as ye are.”

“He’s never allowed me to call him brother, because my mother was common-born.” It was a slip, an admission she had no reason for sharing with him. Bari hated her for her blood. She’d do well to remember that hatred…

“There are plenty of Highland lairds who have the same blood in their veins. There are many who claim it keeps the blood strong. Yer father wed her, so the matter should nae be questioned.”

She was at a loss for a long moment, unsure what to say, for he was offering kindness when she had never expected it. Not from anyone—least of all from him.

“Athena is yers, and I thank ye.” Her voice was full of relief.

“Ye should nae have to.”

He half turned and let out a whistle. She heard someone around the bend in the hallway start walking away. Those footsteps threatened to send tears down her cheeks, for she knew Athena would be hers no longer.

She had to recall why and be content.

“Bari is a knave for bringing ye here. What else has he threatened to do if ye do nae wed Achaius?”

She was staring into his eyes again, this time because she just couldn’t understand why he cared. His lips twitched into a grin that was beguiling. He was one handsome brute when he softened his expression.

She jumped and looked away, her cheeks hot with shame. “Well…hmm…does it really matter?” Her mind was cloudy, and her thoughts formed slowly. But she forced herself to focus and make sense. “What I mean to say is, doing me duty is something I will nae shirk. Wouldn’t ye honor a contract made by yer laird? Even if the bride was nae to yer liking?”

She covered her mouth with her hand when she realized she’d admitted her true feelings. “Nae that I dislike Achaius.” There really was no way to explain her way out of it. So she turned, intending to leave, but he blocked her way with one arm. His lightning-quick motion startled her. She’d allowed herself to trust him being so very close to her.

But the man was a Highlander, and one with vengeance on his mind. She was a fool to allow him so close.

“Sandra would have fluttered her eyelashes and done her best to beguile Achaius,” he said. “She was a bitch with a calculating mind and a heart of stone. She used a woman’s wiles like weapons.”

Their gazes were locked, and she felt the burn of his stare all the way to her toes.

“Ye’re nae trying yer hand at that game, but maybe ye are playing a different one,” he pressed.

He was a man accustomed to getting what he wanted. She tried to lean back, but the wall was solid, and the pitted surface pressed into her palms. Her heart accelerated and, oddly, she was convinced she could smell his skin.

“What is so hard to understand?” she asked in frustration. “The Church preaches that a woman should follow the direction of her family and laird.”

His lips parted. “Agreeing with the sermon is much easier when ye’re in the house of God. Once ye are standing on the steps of the keep with an old man pinching yer bottom, that’s when I’d expect ye to tell yer brother to go to hell.”

“I wish—” She slapped a hand over her mouth to stop her words. But he gripped her wrist and pulled it away.

“Ye wish what?”

The contact of his grip caused a flood of sensation. It was like something was unleashing inside her, a hidden part of her that she had never realized existed, some instinct that told her to move closer to him.

“Release me,” she breathed.

One dark eyebrow rose like a challenge. “Why? I am nae hurting ye. I know me strength and control it well.”

“Yer touch unsettles me.”

Something flickered in his dark eyes, and it frightened her because she felt an echo of it inside herself. It was worse than pain—that was something she knew how to endure. His touch was eroding her control and making her fight the urge to touch him back.

She wanted to but shook her head.

“And I will nae have ye accusing me of trying to seduce ye.” She didn’t sound as steady as she’d have liked, but at least she hadn’t stumbled over the words. She twisted her hand, trying to free herself, but he turned her arm up and placed a kiss against her inner wrist. It burned, but then the sweetest delight rippled through her from the contact.

“Ye are unnatural,” she accused. She was almost breathless, but she was also frightened of him, afraid of what he was unleashing inside of her.

When he raised his head to look at her, his expression was purely sensual and strangely inviting.

“Because ye enjoyed that?” His gaze lowered to her lips. “So did I. And it was very natural, lass. We were made to respond to each other.”

The delicate skin of her lips tingled. She was almost desperate to discover what his kiss felt like before she lost the chance forever by pledging herself to Achaius in holy matrimony.

“Well, ye should nae teach me such things. Ye should go before ye ruin everything.”

His grip tightened, and she flinched. “Now ye are hurting me.”

“What am I going to ruin?” he asked softly, easing his hold on her wrist. But he was still watching her suspiciously, and she knew he was lowering his voice to deceive her.

Her temper flared up, rescuing her from the flood of new sensations, and she jerked her arm away from him.

Moira gave him a withering look. “Any hope of happiness I might find here. Ye are a selfish man to show me what a kiss might feel like if me husband was nae so old. I do nae need to dwell on the facts that cannae be changed.”