Kara Griffin - The Pith Trilogy (4 page)

The warrior had the gall to laugh. She wasn’t about to be mocked, but then again, she wasn’t as brave as she’d let on. He would probably laugh harder if she were to strike him again. How had she thought an insignificant slap would affect him? He didn’t even flinch.

“Ye dropped your weapon at the pond. Here, take it.”

She gasped at the realization that he’d seen her at the pond. The knave spied on her. How much had he seen? He pressed the dagger into her hand.

“You dare much to return my weapon, my lord, but I shan’t use it on ye and waste a good effort. I must return to the keep, pray allow me to pass.”

“Let me come to you tonight, I’ll pleasure ye. I will even entice you since you are objectionable about enticing me.” He pulled her close. “I want to kiss you again.”

“I suppose ye think I should be grateful for your offer, my lord, but I—”

His lips took possession of hers again and his hand roamed the material of her nightrail until she felt the splendor of his palm covering her breast. She didn’t have the strength to move him. Something awakened inside her, and she wanted to feel his hard body against hers. Her hands moved over his chest, where she felt the pounding of his heart.

He overwhelmed her with his kisses, so much so that she didn’t think about the consequence of her actions. She needed to get away from him and the danger he presented. Taking a bit of skin between her fingers, she pinched as hard as she could. The warrior became aware that she wasn’t returning his kiss.

She pulled back to reproach him. “My lord, please, you shouldn’t kiss me. Now, release me.” She stomped on his boot then held her slippered foot, grimacing in pain. Somehow she maintained her balance and dignity.

Before he could speak, she fled and didn’t dare look back. She didn’t stop running until she reached the hall. The men were still drinking inside, and she slipped past them unnoticed. Once she entered the chamber, she closed the door and leaned against it. Those inside the room continued to slumber, and all she could hear was the thumping of her heart. Mayhap there was magic in the love act, he certainly weaved a spell over her with his kisses.

The border of MacKinnon land

Highlands, Scotland

Sunlight escalated over the trees in the distance, lightening the gray sky. Rain had fallen the night before, dampening the lush foliage in the woods. Colin MacKinnon breathed in the fresh scent of pine before he opened his eyes to greet the day. Though he forced himself to close his eyes, he hadn’t slept. Nearby, he heard the men beginning to stir. A voice called to him and he saw his second in command, Walter Ross, cooking over an open flame.

“’Bout time ye woke. Are ye hungry, lad?”

“I haven’t slept the entire night. I could eat something.” Colin accepted the food thrown at him, and he immediately took a bite of whey bread.

“Didn’t sleep, aye? What made ye restless, the thought of the women left behind at Steven’s wedding?”

Colin almost laughed, but he stopped himself. “I did meet a woman there, and damned if I didn’t let the bewitching minx get away.”

Walt handed him warm ale and grunted. “Was she an enchanting bean-sithe?”

“Aye, she was a lovely faerie to fill my lonely nights. I never responded to a woman like her, Walt, makes me wonder if my da was wrong.”

His friend grunted again. “There’s nothing better than a willing woman warming your bed when ye return from battle. Speaking of battle, what came of the meeting? Ye did attend, did ye not? Or were you too busy?”

Colin did laugh at that. “Of course, that’s the reason I was there. No outcome was decided, the lairds of Scotland have not made progress in procuring the baron’s acceptance. Their king is being pressured to war against us. I want to return home and put the political rift behind me. We’re far enough away and won’t have to deal with their problems. Only if the king asks, will we get involved.”

“Aye, I agree.” Walt nodded.

Colin finished off his food and chugged the ale Walt had given him. His beloved Highlands beckoned like the sensuous woman he’d met at Steven’s wedding. He missed walking in the mist and swimming in cold lochs—pure exhilaration. That thought reminded him of Julianna. He would have stayed if she’d encouraged him. Hell, he might have even fetched the friar as he had promised, after the seduction of course. It would have made for a nice distraction. But he needed to put the lovely faerie from his mind and get back to his feud.

He stood with his legs braced, glancing at his brothers. Both lads lay naked on the cold wet ground, clad in war paint, and only covered by their plaids. They weren’t concerned about the dampness that settled around them. He kicked each brother hard, hoping to roust their sorry arses.

“We must reach home before the day ends,” he muttered. Both brothers grumbled under their breath. He kicked them again, putting more effort into it. “Come on, lassies! Ye have five minutes to get your arses up.” He intended the insult, and hoped being called girls would irk them enough to rise.

Colin’s attention turned to the men moving about the camp. Someone put the fire out, and dirt from the ground filled the air with soot. Anxiousness came over him, and he hadn’t felt this tense in quite some time, not since his da had died. He remembered being on edge then because his da was going to give them hell for being gone so long.

That day, they’d been sent to raid their enemy, the McFies. Their longstanding feud had become heated that year, but they accomplished their mission and had stolen the McFies’ crops stored for winter—what they’d set out to do. Colin had been seven and ten at the time, and had been put in charge for that mission, even though his father’s commander-in-arms, Walter Ross, had been the most experienced soldier in the group.

No guard patrolled the McFie’s stores that day. Something wasn’t right, and Colin hesitated. Quiet as the MacKinnon’s were, they’d been able to enter the storage shacks without notice. They’d loaded the crops into the cart. It hadn’t mattered that they were quiet; none of the McFies had stood guard. He thought it an ambush and mentioned it to Walter, who shrugged off his concern.

Colin shook the memory away and grew impatient at his brother’s dawdling, sending them a glare to get them moving. Everything ready at last, he and his men forged on, riding hard throughout the day. They reached the keep’s walls by nightfall.

Burk, his steward and longtime friend, ran forward to greet him. Colin jumped from his steed, threw the reins upon the horse’s back, and returned the greeting. He strode inside, listening to Burk’s report. The castle held disheartening memories for him, but nonetheless, he was happy to be home.

After hours of listening to the latest news, he was able to finally retire for the night. Colin lay on his bunk, but sleep evaded him. He recalled another time, the day he had returned from that raid on the McFies. The vision of that day, when Burk had told him that his da had been injured, was firmly imprinted in his mind. He’d raced inside the keep to his da’s bedside. He remembered how the chamber had been darkened to provide comfort for the dying laird. Colin had tensed, and his chest held unease at the sight of his weakened da. He could still see his father’s glazed eyes and recount his exact words.

“Son, I knew ye would make it in time. I must tell ye … you must avenge me. Ye will be laird.” His da could barely get the words out, and his chest struggled to hold a breath.

“Who did this?” Colin’s heart tightened. His da’s strength had been depleted, yet he had fought like a warrior.

“Colin, the McFies … avenge me, lad. Ye must,” Donald MacKinnon pled. “Your mother, she …” He had taken his last breath without revealing his last thought.

Colin’s own words still rung in his ears, “Ye will be avenged, da. I will never relent. The McFies will die.”

A loud snore jarred his thoughts and the vision of that day faded. Peering into the darkened barracks, he sighed in unspoken anguish. If he had arrived home sooner, he might have been able to confront his enemy and defend his da. Colin rolled to his side, trying to shake memories long since passed. The weight of his vow hung over him like a crag loosened from the earth, ready to crush him in its path.

He wouldn’t give up and hadn’t relented, it being ten years since he’d made that vow. Still, he hadn’t brought the damned McFies to justice. Determined to avenge their da’s death, he and his brothers would soon set out again. As the night wore on, Colin made his plans.

The day dawned, another beginning to what could be the day he settled his vow. Throughout the morning, Colin settled clan matters and eventually went inside the keep for the meeting of the council. The council of the MacKinnon Clan met for the annual election of the position of laird. They lined the trestle table in the austere home, as every room in the castle bore no decoration or homey appeal. Such comforts didn’t appeal to the MacKinnons and Colin could care less. He wasn’t worried about being voted as their laird, not one of the council members would refuse his right to rule.

“Colin, sit here, lad. We have decisions to make.” Walter called. “I will be coming along on the next outing. The McFies cannot escape ye much longer.”

Colin approached the table, taking his rightful place. “They will pay as my da willed.”

He hadn’t expected to become laird for many years, and yet there he was, being elected once again. The annual election had become a formality, and the clan continued counting on his guidance. The men spoke of his father’s leadership and how Colin had attained his equal. He believed his da became even harder after the death of his mother, who died five years prior. Had it been that long? Fifteen years? His mother had given his da the sons he so wanted, but little of anything else. She married for the alliance to gain peace for her people, but she never given her heart to him. Colin deemed his da must have cared for her.

Why couldn’t she love him? Had she loved another? Those answers had died with her. Colin decided not to make the same mistake. He swore to keep his own heart intact. His da had tried to tell him something about his mother on his deathbed, but he never finished the words. Those words troubled Colin.

He tossed the thoughts aside, and addressed the council. “I give ye my oath again; we will hold our alliances and war with our enemies. The clan McFie will be abolished as my father bid. Our clan will grow stronger and we shall prosper.” He pounded his fist on the table, accentuating his statement.

“Any opposed to Colin continuing as laird?” Walter shouted.

In unison, the council members shouted, “Nay.”

A feast began immediately after the meeting honoring his reelection. His brothers jovially dared to jest with him, even though he wasn’t one to jest with.

“Colin, you’ve been quiet lately. Ye thinking of the bonny women we left behind at Steven’s wedding?”

“I know you are, Robin.” He laughed, enjoying his brothers baiting for once.

“I’m headed to the village. Want to join me?” Brendan rose from his seat and pushed his trencher forward. “Stella’s been asking for you, Colin.”

“Ahhh, the lovely Stella. Aye, I will join ye. You coming, Robin?”

“Nay, there’s a lass here that holds my interest. If only I can gain her attention.”

Colin and Brendan laughed at their brother’s discontent. Both knew who Robin’s eyes searched for. They rose and left the hall, leaving Robin to his conquest.

*****

The dark-haired man smiled when the laird and his brother passed by. He knew where the men headed and why. Leaning against the wall, he watched them hurry to their destination, his eyes fell on the castle and his chest tensed.

Aye,
he thought, considering his life,
I killed the beast Donald MacKinnon. I got my revenge. It sickens me having my own son believing Donald was his da, but at least the man can harm him no more. I long to tell him the truth, but alas I cannot. Aye, I cannot go back on my word. My heart aches, missing ye, Margaret. My own sweet Maggie, ye made me promise to take care of the lads and see to it Colin became laird. The use of the McFies worked as I planned.

He pulled away from the wall and went inside. Robin held out a tankard to him and he took it. Regarding the middle son of Donald and Margaret, he smiled knowingly. What fine sons Margaret bore that ungrateful man.

I kept my promise, Maggie. The lads flourish and have become good men, och they are solemn. If they only knew what a scathe of a dog Donald was, they would have felt different then. My secret is safe, and Donald MacKinnon is long dead. I rejoice every day, Maggie. I hope ye do too, my love.

Parkville Convent’s corridors echoed with the sound of girls singing as Mother Superior entered the chapel where the choir practiced. Julianna had been back almost six months since her visitation to Sara’s. Mother didn’t look joyful, and Julianna wondered what she could have done to cause her displeasure. Even with the delightful sounds of the girl’s singing, Mother’s face reflected a stern frown. She approached the aisle and pointed.

Julianna gestured to herself, and Mother nodded. She bit her lower lip because Mother looked disgruntled. Stepping off the dais, she approached and Mother grabbed her arm, leading her from the chapel.

“Mother, have I done something—”

“Speak not, child,” she said. Mother pulled her to the office, and once there, she set her in a chair and motioned to be quiet.

Julianna’s bottom was placed in the most uncomfortable chair Mother could find, known to the girls as the punishment chair. She smoothed her hands over the rough wood of the arms. Mother was one smart abbess. No one ever spoke back to her when sitting in the chair. Mother’s wimple covered her hair and her dark brows furrowed.

“Julianna, I asked ye to hang the sheets. Did I not?” Her soft voice compensated for her stern look and blunt demeanor.

“Aye, and I hung them. I promise.”

“They are lying in the dirt. Did ye secure them to the lines like I told ye? You know how the wind blows here.”

“They are in the dirt? I did forget to secure them.”

“Ahhh, I knew it, your head is in the clouds, child.”

“I hung them only an hour ago and was going to check them after the choir.”

“You will need to rewash and hang them again.”

Julianna didn’t want Mother to be upset. Her plans counted on Mother’s good grace. She would do well to keep Mother appeased and mayhap she’d be amiable to letting her stay.

“Ye have six months remaining. Try to make them more successful.”

Sadness overcame her at the thought of only six months before she would return to her hellish life at her father’s manor. Not only that, but she missed Sara, and she wept from the loneliness.

Mother frowned. “What concerns ye? You’ve never gotten upset when I punished ye before. Don’t tell me you are being sincere in your sorrow.”

“I am sincere, Mother. I don’t mean to weep, but I miss Sara, and you reminded me that I too shall be gone soon.”

“You two have run me in circles these past years, but ye kept me young. I didn’t mean to be dreadful.” Mother smiled.

“You haven’t been. I’m to return home soon and I’m afeard.”

“You knew your stay here was limited, unless ye wanted to take a vow to God.”

“I thought about it and that seems the likely choice.”

“Being a nun is not a choice but a calling. Ye don’t have the devotion to become a Sister of the Order. You loathe prayer hours. How many times did I catch you and Sara sneaking out? Whenever I asked ye to partake in our rituals, you scoffed. How many hours have you spent in the confessional? Too many to count. Nay, I don’t see you wearing the habit. You are meant for a different destiny. In the end, it will work out. God will see you through.”

“Sara and I were young and I can change and become more devout. I don’t want to leave, Mother. Pray, let me stay.” She sobbed. Mother handed her a cloth.

“Dry your tears. Your life’s path is not here at the abbey, Julianna.”

“I wish that it were. I must confide in someone, Mother.”

“What troubles you so? You’ve always been somewhat forlorn and I often wondered why.”

Julianna went to Mother’s side, leaning close, she revealed her deepest secret.

Mother’s eyebrows rose. “The King, I cannot believe …” She crossed herself several times. “Heed me, child, I wouldn’t trust anyone with that information. Were he to find out, ye would not fare well. He is not a man who cares for God’s blessing.”

“My mother warned me about him. I’m afeard of my father and about
him
. I cannot marry because of it. What if I do and the king finds out? I cannot endanger a husband.”

“You must marry for your protection. Have faith.” Mother fingered her cross, holding it out in a symbolic gesture.

Julianna nodded, but she wasn’t sure she had as much faith as Mother. “Aye, Mother, I must stay away from Londontown. Perhaps Father’s forgotten me.”

“I fear not. I recently sent a message relaying that he should collect you at year’s end. Had I known about this … To delay is to not face your fear, Julianna. God will send ye help.”

“I understand, Mother. Thank you for your guidance.”

“Think on what I have said. I will have someone else wash the sheets. Time will pass hastily and you’ll be leaving before we know it.” Mother patted her arm.

Julianna left the office and went outside to the garden. If she couldn’t become a nun, then she would find her way. That decided, she hoped to be able to live with Aunty when she left. Freedom was dwindling. With that thought, Julianna went to the stables and led her mare from the stall. She slipped on her back and rode to the open field beyond the convent.

Mother always scolded her for riding fast, but Julianna never minded her. The horse’s swift movement made her hair blow behind her. Feeling rejuvenated, she shouted with glee. Releasing her voice often calmed her. Riding toward the row of rowan, pine, and birch trees by the convent’s border, she glanced back at the abbey. Its steeples and turrets rose to the sky as if pointing to heaven. A large bell tower held the music that told them when to rise and when to take prayer. The peacefulness was tranquil.

Considering her future, she wasn’t sure where her path lay. Wherever it was, it certainly wasn’t at her father’s manor. Scotland called to her. Julianna wasn’t certain why, but she knew her path would eventually lead her there. Mayhap she wanted to live there because that was where Sara lived. Stories of that land always captivated her and she wished she could go, but she’d follow the path no matter where it led.

Heavy-hearted, Julianna had been selfish lately and only thought of herself. Her sister, Laila, needed her. Being Lord Bentley’s real daughter, Julianna didn’t believe he’d harm Laila. But she wasn’t sure whether he had or not. Laila wouldn’t want her to worry and would hide any abuse from her. Laila was only three years younger than she and had a sure smile and winsome ways. The thought of leaving Laila behind made her feel hopeless.

When she returned from her ride, she sat on the bed and reached under her pillow. The dagger was cold and menacing. Even the delicate scroll of the handle did little to make it ladylike. Careful not to prick her fingers on the six inch blade, she held it. The thought of using it sickened her, but she hoped it would never come to that. She’d keep her promise though and have it with her.

Since she’d returned from Sara’s wedding, she kept better track of it. The dagger reminded her of the warrior. She replaced the weapon beneath the pillow and curled up to sleep. That night she dreamt of him and the dream became fanciful. He rescued her from a tower and once on the ground, he kissed her as boldly as he had in the woods. Julianna smiled in her sleep, reliving the magic of that night.

The next morning, when she recalled the dream, she scoffed. Returning to her father’s manner should occupy her thoughts, not cowardly girl’s whimsical dreams. God help her, she had to be strong.

*****

The months passed quickly even though Julianna prayed everyday that the time to go home never came. She knew someone would come to fetch her soon. Each day she anticipated her father’s escort and each day she was relieved when they hadn’t arrived.

Sister Margarite came and told her Mother wanted to see her. Julianna walked leisurely to Mother’s offices, suspecting the unfortunate time had come. She hadn’t done anything to warrant Mother’s lecture and the only reason she’d call her was the inevitable. Though Mother did enjoy lecturing her, Julianna didn’t want to sit through her long-winded speeches. She wouldn’t much mind being reprimanded today if only that meant no one had come for her.

When she entered Mother’s office, she noticed the sadness on her face. Julianna’s heart sank. God above, the escort had truly come.

“You must leave without delay. The sisters will pack your belonging and shall be sent later. We cannot have men staying here. Come, I will walk ye to the gate.”

“Nay, I cannot leave. Mother, pray let me stay.” She clutched Mother’s arm, hoping she could change her mind.

“I’m sorry, Julianna, ye must go with the escort.”

“Will you pray for me?”

“Everyday, Julianna. Remember God will lead ye to your path. You will know where you are supposed to be when ye get there. Take care, child.”

They reached the large gates—the gates to hell. Soon she’d face the devil himself, the monster she’d seen in dreams. With that thought, Julianna turned and ran back to her room. Mother called after her, but she kept running.

A few minutes later she returned and felt much better.

“What were you doing?”

“I forgot something, Mother. I have everything I need now.” Julianna patted her side. A promise was a promise and she wouldn’t go back on her word. She would keep the awful dagger with her always.

After giving Mother a quick hug, she turned and walked through the gate. Bleeth stood beyond the sacred ground of the abbey, looking more handsome than she remembered. Relief washed over her when he enclosed her in his arms.

“I missed ye, my lady.”

She closed her eyes at the feeling of his acceptance. Her dear friend always came for her.

“Father allowed you to come for me? You’re the only one?”

“Nay, others await in the wood. Your father thought ye would be more agreeable if I came.”

“Why is he being kind? Alas! Do ye think he arranged a marriage?”

“I don’t know, my lady. Come, let us be gone. We have a long journey ahead.”

Julianna mounted her horse and started off. “I would rather delay the journey. Let’s take our time. How fares Laila?”

“Laila is well, but she keeps to herself. There’s no news to impart.”

As she rode for home, Julianna tried to think pleasant thoughts. “Remember when I met Aunty the first time?”

Bleeth laughed. “Aye, ye were around eight. I remember you spilled all those oats.”

Julianna smiled at the memory. “I wanted to give the warhorse the oats. How was I supposed to know the bucket was so heavy?”

“When ye reached the center of the hall, you lost your hold and dropped it. Oats were scattered across the floor. We had to remove the rushes. Ye cried, fell to the floor, and covered your head. That’s how Aunty found ye.”

“How many times have I told you this story? I remember Aunty helping me scoop up the oats. Then she took me outside and let me feed the animal.”

Bleeth grinned. “Ye learned how to trust that day.”

“I learned that someone loved me and …” Emotions lodged in her throat. “I wish Laila had been allowed to go with me for visits. She wasn’t able to escape like I was. She is the only reason I’d ever return.”