The Laird's Right (16 page)

“To marry off Brus. I must know everything about these ladies vying for his hand because I have one in mind, the perfect one. We must go to Elspeth’s home. And you play a big part.”

“Me.” She jabbed a finger against her chest. “How?”

“That I cannot share but have faith that in the end all will be happy.” Portia, along with her company, traveled to Elspeth’s home.

“Nay, Quinlan. I shall do it.” She rapped against the door. She knocked harder this time. Her knuckles were red and her hand stung. She shook them out to ease the pain.

“Lairdess,” Rosin started. “Elspeth couldn’t hear a bear roaring in her face.”

Portia waved her hand for Quinlan to knock. He pounded once, twice and a third time. Each one was louder than the last.

Out of the side of her mouth, Portia asked, “Then how does she hear gossip?”

Her question hung unanswered as Elspeth stood at the threshold. Age had hooded her eyes and lined her round face. Her hair had whitened, giving her an ethereal countenance. Age twisted her hands and sloped her back. But she moved about with swiftness.

“Lairdess MacLean said you were the one to come for help with the clan. I’ve been—”

“Charged with finding Brus a wife,” Elspeth finished. “That’s na too hard, the women love him, chasing after him since Cece went to ground. Rosin knows.”

Rosin grimaced slightly as she gave her agreement. “I have to clean the house after every visit. The girls won’t even stop by the cottar because the ladies take all his attention. Brus has to hide in his daughters’ places to get some peace. It’s not good for him.”

“Tis true. All that attention goes to a man’s head then he canna be dealt with. If he didna get all that fuss he wad have probably married Rosin, she’s takin’ care of him.”

Rosin threw up her hands. “Just doing what my sister asked me.”

Elspeth might have raised a brow but the white hairs were indiscernible against her furrowed forehead. Her eyes enlarged, revealing cloudiness along the irises’ edge.

“Truly?”

“Rosin, you dinna tell the lairdess?” She
tsk
ed. “Rosin and Cece were twins.”

“Aye, when my sister died he proposed to me but he was mourning her, that’s all. I denied him.”

“That was when Columba, Lorna, Peig, Cait, Diorbhail and Neoinean started chasing him.”

Quinlan snorted. Portia faced him. “Do you have an opinion?”

“Brus doesn’t like Columba’s sons—”

“No one does,” Elspeth added.

“Peig is crazy.” Quinlan pulled up a chair.

“Crazy?” Portia didn’t care for the sound of that.

“She never let her husband speak to any woman. I think he threw himself on the sword to get away from her. Lorna might do, but I think Brus be bored.”

“Aye, Brus is too friendly.” Rosin huffed.

“Diorbhail might do, especially since her son is Ronan’s commander. She’s lonely. Neoinean too, if you can get past the fact that she’s a witch.”

“Witch?” That sounded worse than crazy.

“Not that anyone cares. She’s not good at being a witch.”

“So, Rosin, Diorbhail and Neoinean must come tonight to the feast. Elspeth, you must come as well.”

“Oh, I wonna wanna to miss it. Love is in the air. You doubt me, Lairdess, but the air is thick with it and the winds are blowing.”

Portia didn’t know what any of that had to do with love nevertheless, it worked in her favor.

* * * *

Under the cloudy Scottish sky, Portia tried to feel if love was in the air. It smelled of coming rain. That was the only thickness she felt, so she decided her nose wasn’t as keen as Elspeth and stopped trying to detect it.

Quinlan stood with his feet planted and his arms crossed. His jaw was clenched. Portia followed his gaze to see Cairine as she slipped into the cottar.

“Why don’t you speak to your wife?”

He did nothing. No other choice, she went straight to the door. Quinlan wasn’t with her.

He ambled away, his head down. His stride dragged.

Cairine hung linens from the string cutting across the space. Portia noticed a plaid draped over the cradle tucked in a dark corner of the home. Unlike other homes, she didn’t catch the whiff of animals.

“You have been missed up at the castle.”

Cairine started to glance away but halted before she turned her head halfway. “That’s kind of you to say, but I’m needed here.”

She glanced about the home, an empty one. “You are needed with your husband. As lairdess and your friend, I can say what others are thinking and you know is true.”

“I’m not the one who left.” Cairine turned away.

Portia spread her arms. “You are here.”

“I cannot go back.” Her burr thickened with growing tears.

Portia put her arms around her. “I would never tell you how to feel, but don’t let this chance pass by. It will only get harder with time. Please let me help, even to just listen.”

Cairine tossed aside the sheet. She picked at her nails, ripping them off. “Before your arrival, I…I lost a bairn. Quinlan cared for me. He was so tender.” Her voice thickened. “He tried to comfort me, vowing to have more children, that he loved me and all those sweet words. As men are, they like to fix things and when none of that worked, he said that we didn’t need children.”

“You want them.” Portia saw her face start to crumple.

“I didn’t know what I wanted, but aye, I’m a woman and what’s a woman without children? But most of all, I want a part of Quinlan and me together, on this earth. But each day, I couldn’t look at him. I had let him down. He became frustrated. It just went wrong.” She buried her face in her hands and wept.

“Come to the feast.”

She shook her head and sniffled.

Portia wished she possessed the words to soothe her, instead, she grasped both her hands. “I count you as a friend so I will tell you not to let the pain come between you and the man you love. You will only have more pain.”

“Is that what you do with the laird?”

“Alec?” Portia dropped her hands.

“Aye, you love him and he, you. You seem surprised.” She rested her hand on her hip.

“Alec doesn’t love me.” She shook her head repeatedly.

Cairine smiled. “I see you haven’t denied your feelings.”

“I care for him. How could I not after all he has done. Truthfully, I loved once and lost.”

“And received another chance at it,” Cairine added. “What do you plan to do?”

* * * *

Portia dawdled outside the chamber door. Each sound made her jump, ready for his arrival. She tapped her feet together and fanned herself from the growing heat. Alec should have returned. She had sent the kitchen boy after him when the candles had been lit, now they were a quarter burnt away. She had counted to a hundred, named the saints she remembered, listed the kings of England. No Alec.

She stomped to the stairs and cocked an ear. Only the licking flames of the torch light cracked as the light played against the wall. She moved to the stairs, took a step down then another until she was halfway down. The everyday sounds of the castle reached her. When she was ready to go get her husband, she heard the castle dogs bark and his rich voice greeting each by name.

He had arrived. His warm burr chased after her as she picked up her skirts and sprinted back to her spot. She smoothed out her plaid, straightened her hair and smiled. Then stopped. She put on her serene face. Beneath it, she jumped and her legs shook from impatience. The man needed to hurry up.

Alec came around the corner. Drawing on her rapidly dwindling will, she hadn’t jumped on him. He slowed upon seeing her. He gave her that questioning look where his brows lifted in to a mountain peak, shadowing the amber spark in his green eyes. The corner of his mouth quirked upward.

She loved that look. Truth was it stirred wicked feelings in her. At the very least, hug him tight and plant kisses all over him.

“Have you summoned me for a kiss?” He swaggered toward her.

She stretched out her hand and wiggled her fingers for him to take it. He wove their fingers together and followed her inside. “Silence, hmmm.”

Alec locked his eyes on her. His hooded eyes grew heavy, casting a sensual promise across his face to worship every inch of her flesh. She danced away from his grasping hands, only to be grabbed by the waist and hauled against him. She landed with an
oomph
. With her arms pinned against his chest, she gave him a gnat bite of a slap that had no effect.

“Continue to call me for me like this and I shall rush right to your side.”

He ran his hands over the small of her back, arching her closer to him. She rose on her toes when he gripped a handful of her buttocks. She turned her face before he could claim her mouth or she’d let him love her. Oh, how she wanted it.

“Naughty husband, I—” Burying his nose in her neck, he nipped, suckled and licked the fine flesh just under her ear. He snagged his fingers in her hair.

“You smell so good.” The bass of his words stirred a shiver through her. She tilted her head, losing herself in the heavenly feel of his lips.

“Nay, Alec. Not now.” She pushed against him.

“You are wrong. You need to rest and I must help you disrobe.” He slipped his hand under her skirt. His other hand reached for her belt.

“How many hands do you have?” She shoved at his fast hands before they traveled too high on her thigh.

“Enough to strip you.”

Her ears heated. Her lashes fell and all resistance faded away. She moaned deep in her throat. Oh Lord, she was losing this fight and her body was betraying her. Her breasts grew heavy, begging for his attention. And her nipples hardened. He slipped a hand between her legs. She backed up. He caught her.

Backing up to the bed, she remembered the reason for him being here. “Alec.” She squirmed out his arms. “I brought you here for something else.”

“After, my love.”

Her heart clenched, soaring at his endearment. He mustn’t have known what he said. “Nay, later, I insist.”

“Show me, quickly.”

She looked around the chamber. He stared at her. She flapped her arms about for no reason. He only continued to stare. She slumped when he buried his head against the new bed curtains before he faced her. He pushed down his erection. A lengthy moment drew out before he took in the chamber. He crossed to the chairs before the table.

“These are new.” He inspected the simple back chairs and patted the red and green plaid cushions. The yellow border shined against the rich hues.

“I upholstered them in the everyday Cameron plaid. This is our place where we leave the outside world behind. Here we are husband and wife.”

His weapons hung from the wall, including a bear pelt. “I see you moved my belongings in here.” Spaced evenly on the table were various brooches and rings, including a large red stone with the Cameron badge in gold.

“There wasn’t much.”

He touched each item then replaced each one in its spot. She lingered behind, watching his expressionless face.

He lifted the wooden statue of a unicorn and lion.

“England and Scotland.”

“Great workmanship,” he said, not knowing what to say.

She kept her attention on him, waiting for a reaction. She had never seen him so detached from the world around him. He must have hated it.

She almost screamed for him to say something when he cut to the bed then passed by it.

He stiffened at the clock. His neck muscles were blade straight.

“It deserves a place of honor. My mother presented me gifts upon my wedding that were…I imagine your mother loved it. I’m bewitched by it.”

“She did.” He hooked his forefinger on the crank. “Why did you do this?”

Her tongue stumbled over the answer. “You are laird yet you do not believe it. The time is now for you to lead this clan and be laird to Clan Cameron and me lairdess. We need a chamber to show that.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I wasn’t meant to be. I was to be chieftain and Ronan my commander. This position reminds me of my father, an evil bastard that I never liked.”

She ought to seal her mouth and let the topic die. “Talk is that you killed him.”

“Do you believe that?” He spun toward her.

“Never.” Her answer relaxed his jaw.

He paced a tight circle. She waited for him to run his hands through his hair. His head moved from side to side, debating in his own mind. He gave a soft shake of his head. “I wanted to and I made his last days hell. I should have cut his head off. He deserved that.”

“But you don’t deserve walking this earth burdened by the act. Do you not understand Alec?” She rushed to his side. “You were laird since the day you thought of the clan.”

“I refuse to be like him.”

“And you are not. You couldn’t stay in this room because it displayed the Laird of Lochaber’s wealth not the clan’s. You know the members by their names and more than that you know their lives. You married an English lady to protect her. Alec, now is our beginning. Leave the past there. It’s dampening our lives.” She snaked her arms around his waist. He rested his chin atop her head. Her lifetime could and should be spent in his arms, this close to him. She loved the man. The emotion filled her, making her brave in a way she had never felt in her life.

She licked her lips. Unable to stop herself, she said, “I love you.”

Alec lifted his head as his hold loosened. He tucked his arms to the side and refused to meet her eyes. She went numb. She stayed on her feet when her body was ready to collapse. All of her felt as if she was shrinking, never had she felt this small. She blinked until she was dizzy or was it the other way around? She forced herself to look upon him. He didn’t feel the same. Alec leaned on the back of his heels, putting a distance between them.

“Love distorts a man.” The hard planes of his face were stark.

“You truly believe that.” Her voice hardened. He did and his agreement pierced her, deeper than any knife cut Arthur afflicted on her.

She stumbled backward to get away from him and his rejection.

“I care for you, Portia.” He clasped her arm. She flicked off his hold. “Do not think otherwise but I have learned love, especially love given then snatched away, can sour a man.”