The Highlander's Tempestuous Bride (10 page)

Ryan crossed to the bed and flopped face-up on the coverlet with a sigh. “I dinnae expect to talk of marriage so soon. But I offered an alliance between us and the Macrorys.”

Conn chuckled. “I can imagine yer da’s response to that.”

Ryan remembered his da’s words condemning Gilda as a bastard, but couldn’t bring himself to share the information with Conn. “He wasnae interested in hearing my thoughts on the subject.”

On the hearth, the peat crackled and a flame shot into the air. Red and gold lights danced across the worn stone of the hearth, conjuring the memory of Gilda’s fiery hair in the moonlight. Ryan’s thoughts swept back to soft, pale skin trembling beneath his touch, and trusting, silver eyes as he claimed her lips in a kiss. He groaned.

Two stubborn old men stood between him and Gilda. And to discover his da had signed a contract binding him to Mairead?

Conn rose to his feet and stretched. “Good night, then. I’ll leave ye to decide if yer groans are for the thought of marriage to my sister or for the red-haired Macrory lass ye cannae have.”

* * *

Gilda forced the sweetest smile she could muster, the strain pulling at her cheeks. “Ma, it has been nearly a sennight, and no pirates have been seen. May I please go outside and take Fia for a ride?”

Her mother looked up from her conversation with Cook, a frown on her lips. Gilda took a quick breath, forestalling any obvious denial. “Please, Ma. I will take auld Fergus with me and willnae go far. Just to the beach—I could even visit a bit with Tavia.”

The mention of her mother’s old nurse had the desired effect. Though Tavia spent a good deal of time at the castle, she insisted her home was the cottage on the beach, and had declared the pirates daft should they think to harm a seer woman. No one had seen Tavia in nearly three days.

Her ma sighed. “Yer da isnae here to decide.”

“But Ma, he only said I had to tell one of ye before I left the castle, and with nothing amiss on the borders, surely he wouldnae mind if I left for a wee bit?” Gilda tried for charm, pasting what she considered a winsome smile on her face. She could sense her mother’s waver.

A crash of metal and wood on the stone-flagged floor caused everyone to jump. Riona whirled about and Gilda snatched her skirts to one side as two small forms darted past.

“Ye wee
louns
!” Cook shouted, shaking her fist at the lads who chortled with glee, a pastry in each chubby hand. With practiced ease, Gilda and her mother each grabbed a twin by their collar, halting their dash for freedom.

“Lemme go!” Finn twisted in Gilda’s grasp. Jamie eyed his mother and dared say nothing.

“Put those pastries…” Riona’s gaze lit on the stout fingers buried in the flaky crusts and the purple juices running down the lads’ bare arms. She sighed and turned to Gilda.

“Ye may go down to the beach, but ye will take the twins with ye.”

Gilda’s eyes widened in protest. “But, Ma! Ye cannae be serious?”

Her mother nodded firmly. “Aye. The lads are needing a bit of time away from the castle as much as ye.”

What a disaster! Gilda’s mind whirled. “It would hardly be fair to ask auld Fergus to mind the lads.”

“Fergus willnae be minding the lads. It is up to ye to keep them out of trouble. Fergus has the job of keeping ye safe.”

“Ma!”

Gilda followed her mother’s attention to the lads who had stopped squirming, their interest on the conversation.

“We willnae get into trouble.”

“We want to go to the beach.”

Gilda shot her mother a final pleading look, to no avail.

“What pirate would approach ye with the twins nearby?” her ma reasoned, an innocent smile lighting her challenge.

Gilda’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “Do I have to bring them back?”

* * *

Holding Fia to a slow jog was a supreme act of skill when both horse and rider longed to run. The twins’ sturdy ponies trotted gamely behind with auld Fergus’s mount bringing up the rear. They passed regular groups of sentries posted along the cliffs above the beach, and Gilda knew more scoured the woods for signs of miscreants. Though she’d been raised on the heart-quickening tales of pirates along the coast, Scaurness was amply protected and Gilda had always felt safe.

Cool breezes off the water lifted her hair and she raised her face to the gentle caress, the sound of the twins’ chatter fading blissfully away. She urged Fia into a canter, relishing the cleansing rush of the wind. She leaned forward, strands of her horse’s mane streaming over her hands.

“Gilda!”

Reality jerked at her and Gilda wished she could ignore the summons, but she did not want her mother to refuse her request the next time if she vexed Fergus now. With a sigh, she obediently reined Fia to a walk and glanced behind her. To her surprise, Fergus and Jamie were many lengths behind, though Finn’s pony trotted hard to catch up with her. She saw Fergus bend over, his hand on Jamie’s pony’s leg. Had he picked up a stone or done himself a more sinister injury?

Finn pulled his fat pony to a halt. “Jamie’s pony tripped.”

“Tripped or stepped on a stone?”

Finn shrugged. “I dinnae see. We ran fast as the wind to catch ye.”

Gilda smiled at Finn’s description of his mount’s stubby-legged actions. “Ye spurred him on, aye?”

Her little brother nodded vigorously and patted his pony’s stout neck. “Jock is a braw lad, but I’m almost too big for him, aren’t I, Gilda?” He cast a hopeful look her way. Gilda lifted an eyebrow and eyed the pair. In truth, Finn’s legs no longer stuck out awkwardly over the well-sprung barrel.

“Ye might ask Da about a bigger pony when he gets back,” she allowed. Finn shot her a grateful grin, and Gilda was taken aback at the sweetness of his smile.

She turned to Fergus and raised her voice. “Finn and I will look for shells.” She pointed up the beach as Fergus straightened to listen. “We will be careful.”

Auld Fergus hesitated then waved a hand to indicate he’d heard her. Gilda saw Jamie stomp his foot, but knew Fergus would keep the lad to attend his injured pony.

“Come on, Finn. Let us see what has washed up on shore today.”

* * *

Lissa’s eyes threatened to spill tears down her cheeks. “But, Ryan, ye promised.”

She turned a pleading look to Conn, and he fidgeted beneath her gaze.

“Och, take the lass outside. Yer da lifted the ban yesterday, and I, for one, could use the exercise.”

Ryan indicated the stairs with a jerk of his head. “Change into something ye can ride in, and be quick, mind ye. We dinnae have time to waste on pampering a lass.”

Lissa’s face lit with happiness and she sprang up on her toes to give each of them a quick kiss before darting to the stairs.

As she flew up the steps, Ryan turned to Conn with a frown. “Ye seem to champion her whims. Dinnae spoil her.”

Conn shrugged. “’Tis easy to say ‘aye’ when asked so sweetly.”

“She is but ten summers and has already learned to twist ye around her finger,” Ryan observed dampeningly.

“At least she doesnae carp and whine.”

“Aye.” Ryan shuddered.

Conn clamped a hand on Ryan’s shoulder. “Dinnae worry. If ye have to marry Mairead, ye can still put a few croaking
puddies
in her bed instead of climbing in there yerself.”

Ryan knocked Conn’s hand from his shoulder with a muttered curse. “
Haud yer wheesht
. I tell ye, I willnae marry Mairead.”

“Braw words. I hope ye can keep them, my friend.”

Lissa reappeared on the stairs, her boots clattering on the stone. She waved her cloak in the air. “I am coming!”

* * *

“Now, watch.” Gilda took the smooth, flat stone between her fingers and with a flick of her wrist, sent the pebble skipping across the surface of the tidal pool.

Finn fisted his hands on his hips and scowled. “Why dinnae mine do that?”

“Ye have to pick a flat stone, not the round ones, and toss it sideways. Here. Let me help ye.”

Gilda circled, searching for a perfect rock. Movement on the rise behind them caught her attention. Shielding her eyes, forcing her heart to a normal rhythm, she studied the three riders on the ridge. Two were men, their size and bulk unmistakable. But the third appeared small enough to be a child, and Gilda let out a sigh of relief. Surely pirates would not have a bairn with them.

A second look caused her heart to thrum. She shoved a slim rock into Finn’s chubby, sand-encrusted hand.

“Go show Fergus yer new trick.” Gilda took her brother’s shoulders and turned him toward his pony.

Finn’s head snapped around, a defiant scowl on his face. “I dinnae want…” His eyes grew round as he caught sight of the three riders coming toward them. “Look!”

Gilda bit her lip. What would she say to Ryan?

Chapter 9

Ryan’s hand tightened on his reins. He knew they crossed into Macrory territory, but he was unable to force himself to turn back. Lissa was charmed by the ride to the beach, and her wind-burned face glowed with happiness.

Conn pulled his horse to a halt. “There are others up ahead.”

Ryan nodded as he urged Duer down the sloping bank. He recognized the red-haired lass. “Aye.”

Lissa’s voice piped up. “Where are we going?”

“To look for seashells.” Ryan didn’t bother looking over his shoulder. He could feel Conn’s disapproving gaze burning a hole in his back. He shrugged off the sensation. Hell, he wasn’t the one who’d suggested the outing.

Duer’s massive hindquarters lurched side to side as he half-slid down the embankment. Ryan swayed in the saddle, echoing the horse’s movements. His sister’s voice rose in excitement and he knew she’d spotted people on the beach.

Gilda’s thick braid glinted fiery gold as it bounced across her shoulders. She pushed at the lad beside her, but to no avail. The lad drew against her then straightened, and Ryan smiled at his attempt at bravery.

“Who are ye?” the lad demanded.

Ryan reined Duer to a stop and leaned forward, his arms crossed casually across the high pommel of the saddle. “My name is Ryan.” His gaze cut to Gilda. Her eyes were round with uncertainty, and he winced. Damn two old men who couldn’t see past their feud.

“Ye arenae a Macrory.”

Ryan returned his attention to the wee, puffed-up lad before him and slid from his horse. “Nae. But I am a friend.”

He heard a dainty snort and flashed Gilda a grin.
That’s my lass. Quick-tempered and full of yer own opinion
.

Ryan leaned casually against his horse’s shoulder and turned back to the lad. “What is
yer
name?”

“My name is Finn. And ye cannae be a pirate, can ye?”

Ryan heard the half-hopeful lilt in Finn’s voice and sighed with exaggeration. “Nae. I am no pirate. I have a sister, Lissa, and a friend, Conn.” Ryan gestured to the two behind him.

“Watch what I can do!” With the abrupt decision-making given to the very young, Finn left his defensive posture and turned excitedly to other things. Taking the rock already clutched in his hand, he flung it at the stagnant tide pool. It skipped once, then sank to the bottom.

His hands flew to his hips and he stuck out his chin. “My sister can do it better than that.”

The disgust was so evident in the lad’s voice, Ryan smothered a laugh and bent to find a rock of his own. “Here, lad. Choose yer rock carefully, then give it a solid toss.” With honed skill, Ryan slid his rock through the incoming waves.

Finn’s eyes grew wide as the rock made four complete skips before vanishing beneath the foam. “Can ye teach me that?”

Ryan took a step back, aware Conn stood just behind him, and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “Nae. This man is much better at skipping rocks than I am. He is the one ye need to ask.”

With a firm, meaningful shove, Ryan forced Conn toward the lad. “Take this braw lad and Lissa and teach them to skip rocks.”

Conn brushed past Ryan. “I dinnae know what ye will owe me for this, but ye
will
owe me.”

Ryan didn’t care. Even if it only lasted a moment, he was again alone with Gilda.

* * *

Observing how Ryan smoothly sent the others away, Gilda half-admired his confidence, half-feared he would hear her heart trying to beat out of her chest. She should be angry with him for abandoning her the other night, without explanation or word that he would try to meet with her again.

His gaze drifted over her and she weakened. Utterly boneless and too overwhelmed at seeing him again, she forgave him everything.

Ryan took a hesitant step toward her, a question in his eyes. Gilda smiled and relief washed over his face. His amber eyes danced and Gilda longed to rush into his arms, but the last bit of sanity left to her kept her feet glued to the sandy ground.

“I have missed ye.” Ryan’s voice pitched low, but Gilda heard every word.

“Why did yer da…?” She hesitated.

Ryan waved his hand in an abrupt gesture. “He is still consumed with anger at being denied his request to marry yer ma. We must talk fast. Do ye wish to meet me again?”

Gilda’s skin tingled. “Of course, I do. But—”

“Ye must listen to me, then. Are ye allowed out of the castle without an escort?”

Gilda stole a look down the beach. Fergus stood tall, his gaze fixed on her and the newcomers. He motioned to Jamie and began to jog toward them.

She made her decision. “I can get away. Where?”

“Meet me at the blacksmith’s in the village tomorrow just after noon. If ye cannae come, I will be there again the next day, but I cannae say if I can return after that.”

Gilda touched his arm, feeling the warmth of him beneath her fingers. She trembled. “I will be there.”

Ryan slid his hand into hers and gave it a quick squeeze before he dropped it and strolled casually to where Conn and the children tossed pebbles into the sea. Gilda released a breathless sigh and picked up her skirts to hurry after him.

Finn’s voice rose over the sounds of the lapping water. “Watch this, Fergus! I can make my rock skip all the way to those fishing boats!” He threw his pebble in a sweeping, underhanded arc. It struck a partially submerged stone and bounced high in the air again, landing several feet out into the incoming tide.