The Trouble with Highlanders (23 page)

She did not fear the night. In fact, she enjoyed creeping through the hallways. Her mother had warned her never to fear the darkness, for it was the cloak that might shield her when she needed to go undiscovered. Like tonight.

Norris climbed three flights of stairs, with Gahan and two retainers at his back. He clasped his brother on the shoulder, opened the door of a chamber, and entered it. Gahan followed, making her fret. It was possible the bastard might sleep in the chamber too. Time tormented her, refusing to flow smoothly while she waited. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and she fingered the fabric of her dress unconsciously.

The door opened at last, and Gahan appeared. He was slightly unsteady and only nodded to the two men still in the hallway before heading down the stairs to the chamber below. Sandra sank back into the hallway to avoid being seen by him.

The retainers did not last long. Sandra waited while they leaned against the wall, their heads nodding and their eyes closing. Soon, the sound of their even breathing confirmed that they had both succumbed.

She smiled and took a moment to savor the feeling of victory. Yet, it was not quite complete. Picking up her skirts, she held them tightly so they would not rustle as she climbed the stairs. A single lantern burned at the top of the stairs where the retainers were posted to guard their laird's door. Neither man moved as she brushed past them. The door was not barred, which would allow them to enter the chamber if their master needed them. She walked inside and pressed the door closed behind her.

Her heart accelerated. She could practically smell Norris—his vitality, the pure strength of the man. For a while, She and Bari had been torn between setting his sights on Norris or the Earl of Rothes, but George Leslie was well past his prime. Sandra could hear Norris breathing softly and shivered with the anticipation of being beside him.

Oh, he would be furious with her, suspicious of her, but the sleeping draught would do its job well and leave him with naught to convict her of wrongdoing. In time, he'd settle down, and his nature would see him seeking her embrace. She planned to welcome him warmly—even hotly.

Working at her clothing, she shed her dress and stays, making sure to throw them about the room. She discarded her shoes, reached down to untie her garters, and pushed her stockings down her legs. Excitement kept her from feeling the cold, and she lifted the tail of her chemise without flinching at the temperature. Indeed, she stood proud and content in nothing but her skin as she stopped near the bed.

Norris was sprawled over its surface. The fire was only a bed of coals, but the ruby light illuminated his body well enough. She felt a tingle in her passage though regret that she would have no satisfaction from him tonight. The man was magnificent. It took a great deal of discipline to pull the pins from her hair and not reach out to finger his cock. It looked delicious…

Oh, she was no maiden, but Norris would never know it. She sat down on the bed, careful not to make the ropes creak. She did not trust Norris's wits to be dulled too greatly. The very last part of her plan was to pull a small chicken's bladder from its hiding place in her hair. The small sack was filled with blood, and she worked the thread loose that bound it. She made sure it splattered onto her thighs before marking the sheets.

For the final touch, she swallowed the empty bladder to ensure no one would find it in the morning. With a contented sigh, she lay back and indulged herself by dreaming of all the things she would do as mistress of Dunrobin. And all the delights Norris Sutherland would give her in bed…

***

“Ye are going to let me pass!”

Norris opened his eyes and reached for his sword. Someone thumped a fist on the chamber door, and he was on his feet before Bari Fraser came storming in.

“I told ye no!” Norris's men grabbed Bari, holding the man in the doorway.

“There!” Bari bellowed. “Ye see? I demand satisfaction! How dare yer father act as though me sister is nae good enough for his precious son, and then ye take her to yer bed!”

“What are ye babbling about, man?” Norris demanded and set his sword back on the table near the bed. His head was throbbing. That didn't stop him from noticing the way his men were suddenly looking at the floor. He spun around to find Sandra Fraser gathering the bedding against her chest as the rising sun washed over her.

“He swore… he'd wed me… Bari…”

“What in the hell are ye doing in me bed, woman?” Norris demanded loud enough to shake the rafters.

Sandra's eyes widened, glistening with tears that began falling down her cheeks. “Ye promised… me…” She rose to her knees, looking like she was panicking as she searched for her clothing.

“She's nae wearing a stitch,” Bari yelled. “What in the hell do ye think ye did with her in that bed? Do ye take me for a fool? Just because ye are higher born than me does nae give ye the right to ruin me sister after I came to ye seeking an alliance.”

Gahan burst into the room, his sword in hand. He froze when he took in the scene. Norris tried to recall the moment he'd retired for the evening. He remembered nothing. Sandra was weeping softly—too softly, really. The sheets were stained sure enough, but he could not recall having had her.

“What is amiss?” Broen demanded from the doorway. His men were at his back, crowding the room.

“Retainers out!” Norris ordered. Broen's men looked to their laird before clearing the room. Norris's men were not happy about leaving, but they followed his command and took Bari's men along with them.

Norris grabbed his shirt and shrugged into it. “Ye retired before we did, Sandra. I recall that much very well.”

“Aye, she did,” Broen confirmed.

“How dare ye call me sister a liar?” Bari shouted, his face turning red. He pointed at the stained sheets. “The proof is undeniable.”

“I did nae call her a liar,” Norris barked. “I did ask her a question that I will hear the answer to, with or without ye here.”

“I checked this chamber before leaving ye for the night,” Gahan announced, “as I always do. No one was here. Ye should question the men at the door.”

Sandra appeared wounded as she gathered up her clothing. She made no attempt to dress, looking helpless with all her garments clutched against her body.

“Ye… brought me here… I was in the hallway, looking for me attendant, for I could nae sleep… and ye were below stairs and offered me cider to ease me belly…” She looked at the bed, appearing stunned. “Ye promised me we'd wed, that ye would settle accounts with me brother. That it was all but decided upon anyway. I trusted ye.”

Norris was furious. It felt like a noose was knotted around his throat. He had never been a man to turn his back on honor, but he couldn't shake the feeling of panic digging into him. He walked over to the table holding his kilt. It was set at an angle so all he needed to do was lean back and grasp the ends of the belt set into the groove running down its center. Another thing he did not recall doing, but the wool was evenly pleated, confirming he had done it, as he always did, before going to sleep.

Responding to trouble in the middle of the night in naught but his shirt wasn't something he enjoyed. Still, he could not recall seeking out his bed. He kept the knowledge to himself, though, because Sandra began to lose her composure.

“Ye… ye ruined me if ye do nae keep yer promise to wed me!” Her hands were clenched into fists, and her face turned red. “Have ye no honor?”

“Mind yer words, Sandra. No one questions me honor. Especially nae a woman who knows full well I respect me father and would nae have promised ye marriage without discussing it with him. Ye know that well, as do ye, Laird Fraser, for I told ye both such at Dunrobin.”

“Ye were soaked with cider last eve,” Bari accused. “I saw it well, but that does nae mean ye can ruin me sister.”

“Why do ye nae have someone watching over yer sister during the dark hours?” Broen MacNicols inquired softly. “Ye have men at yer back. Why was she unattended?”

“A very good question,” Gahan agreed. “There were men at the door here. If ye came here with Norris, they will have seen ye.”

“They were sleeping…” Sandra shut her mouth, and temper flickered in her eyes. “Curse the lot of ye! Ye were all soaked with cider. It's well known ye share everything with yer men. So 'tis yer doing that they were sleeping. Ye owe me satisfaction.” She turned toward her brother. “And ye shall nae say a single word to me, Bari, for ye told me negotiations were going well.”

“The details were nae any of yer concern, woman,” Bari snarled.

“Maybe so, but I had nae reason to suspect yer promises were born inside a cider barrel. Ye gave me yer word, and I expect ye to honor it.” Sandra didn't wait for an answer but swept from the room with her rumpled dress trailing.

“She's right, I did nae tell her yer father was undecided in the matter. Women are troublesome when they feel they have been rejected.” Bari shook his head. “But that does nae excuse ye, Norris Sutherland. She says ye promised her. Ye must keep yer word. The circumstances be damned.”

***

Dunrobin

Isla knocked softly before entering her mistress's chamber. She kept her steps light and lifted one finger to caution the two maids following her to be silent.

Daphne was already up and standing in the window closest to the bed. The window was open, but Bacchus was not there. The falcon's absence was just one more glaring detail to remind her Norris was not at Dunrobin.

As if the long, sleepless night behind her was not proof enough.

“Forgive me for being tardy,” Isla muttered as she lowered herself and the maids followed her example.

“Ye are hardly late, Isla. I simply could nae sleep.”

Daphne turned back to watching the sunrise, desperately trying to disguise the loneliness that had woken her. Norris was the son of the Earl of Sutherland—if she hoped to have a future with him, she would have to suffer the times his duties separated them. If she were his wife, she would be expected to attend to her own duties. Not to be found weeping in the early morning because of a dream. Nightmare, actually.

Do
nae
dwell
upon
it…

Sound advice, yet her heart refused to listen. She couldn't even recall the details of the dream, only that it had felt like Norris was being ripped away from her.

Foolishness… Where was the strength that had seen her boldly refusing the match her father had made for her because she knew it was destructive? Her courage had not failed her when the winter had arrived and she shivered on her pious bride of Christ's cot with little to keep her warm.

She wiped her eyes and turned to face Isla. If Norris could do his duty, she would too.

***

“This reeks of deceit,” Gahan muttered the moment Bari Fraser left Norris's chamber. “I can nae recall much from last night, and the men claim they have no memory either.”

“I suffer from the same ailment,” Broen offered.

Norris finished dressing, his temper boiling dangerously. “I did nae have her, but I can nae swear to it, because me memory is gone. There is nae enough cider in this tower to make me blind to the shrew she is.”

Nevertheless, the situation was damning. The Frasers had allies. Not to wed Sandra would place tension on the relationship the Sutherlands had with those clans. Norris was no fool. To survive in the Highlands, you needed your allies. If Bari called for a feud, it was possible Norris would find himself fighting a significant portion of his vassals.

What had seemed so simple the day before was now taunting him with how impossible it might be to wed Daphne.

God
damn
it
to
hell!

***

“Everyone out!” Bari Fraser made sure his expression was furious as he waited for the maids helping his sister to leave the chamber. The door closed, and he walked in a wide circle.

“I have already looked for peepholes,” Sandra offered sweetly.

Bari stopped near her, leaning down to keep his words from drifting. “Such a crafty creature ye are.”

“Did he swear to wed me?”

Bari shook his head, which drew a snarl from Sandra. He tapped her lightly on the cheek, directly on top of the bruise he'd given her the night before. The pain was brief but a subtle reminder her brother was arrogant. Like all men.

“Leave the details to the men.” His eyes flashed with temper. “He'll wed ye, sure enough. His father will see to it once I make it clear I will nae stand for such an insult. I will continue on to Court with Norris, to make sure he does not secure permission to wed Daphne MacLeod from the king.”

Sandra growled. “I did nae think of that. That little boy will no doubt think it a righting of wrongs if Norris has to wed the woman he had beneath the little puppy's own nose.”

“Which would leave ye disgraced and us without the Sutherland forces at our back. Unless I am there to make sure the lad hears of how Norris promised ye the blessing of the Church.”

“Curse that MacLeod slut! The king might decide upon her instead of me. I shall go with ye,” Sandra said decisively.

“Ye will nae,” Bari ordered. “Ye will ride up to Dunrobin and plead yer case with the earl. I do nae care for him having time alone with Daphne MacLeod. He might decide he favors her, which would make it a simple matter to see his son wed to her if it is what the king desires. The Sutherlands court royal favor too. I will make sure the king understands me rage will lead to a feud this summer if ye are nae honored. The king's advisers will no' want that. Our allies supported the young king, while the MacLeods fought against him. That will be to our advantage.”

Her brother stepped back and studied her for a moment. “Now cry, Sister, and let the maids see how frightened ye are of yer brother.”