To Wed A Highlander

Turning around, Dunlop saw an ashen Colin. “Laird? Is something wrong?”

Colin shook his head no, not daring to speak. It wasn’t until Dunlop said the word “midwife” that Colin realized what he had done.

Makenna could be carrying their child unknowingly even now. Since his arrival, he had carried on about how she was wild and reckless with her life. Today, out of pride in wanting to show all her skill, he had needlessly put her and the potential life of his unborn son in danger. How could he have been so senseless?

Never again, Colin vowed. Never again would he allow possible harm to fall upon her.

Chapter Eleven

Makenna leaned against the cool stones framing her chamber window and stared down at the busy people below. Part of her felt obligated to join them; but a larger part knew her health and mind needed this break. Almost two months had passed since that July morning she had sparred with Gorten, and in that time, she had not taken another full day off.

Colin was working equally as hard. Every morning he was in the village handling immediate clansmen’s needs before riding to the training fields for the remainder of the day. Some nights he fell into bed exhausted, too tired to mutter a word, much less summon the energy to make love to her. Makenna would lie down and hug him to her side, content just to have him home and in their bed. His arm would curl around her possessively, reminding her there was more to their relationship than passion.

Today would be her third try at a day off; she and Gannon had established a rotating schedule that gave them both a chance to rest. Guilt had persuaded her to forgo her first break and offer assistance where she knew she could be of help. The second time, an accident in the kitchen with the new baker required her medical attention. Benny was young, but everyone had taken to him immediately. A natural comic, the boy made Makenna laugh whenever she was near him. He was one of the new staff she hoped would stay for years to come.

Makenna let the tapestry fall back into place partially covering the window. She knew exactly what she wanted to do to relax. She donned one of her warmer bliauts and set out to find Brodie to let him know she was ready to leave.

Within the half hour, Makenna and her guard breached Lochlen’s outer walls and cantered toward the River Dye Water. Feeling the air whip through her hair was both invigorating and cathartic.

Makenna knew that much of the strain and stress associated with her position as Lady McTiernay stemmed from Lochlen being so short-staffed and the frequent, intentional sabotages to progress. Despite these setbacks, she was becoming more adept at managing all the work and the people at Lochlen Castle. Though her confidence had grown, she could never see herself truly enjoying the burden of responsibility.

Makenna urged her mount to move into a full gallop and thought about her biggest conundrum of late. Colin.

Although he denied it, Makenna was positive Colin regretted his decision to let her spar with his men. Immediately following her match with the two boys, Colin had seemed happy, almost proud of her abilities. Yet later that night when he returned to Lochlen, his happiness and satisfaction had morphed into something difficult to name. Whatever it was, it continued to haunt his demeanor toward her.

Colin was not angry. He was not disappointed, nor did he exhibit shame. The nights he came home early, he was an amazing lover and willingly conversed about his day. It was when she spoke of her duties and activities that his mood darkened. It mattered not the topic. The crops, the canning, the preparation for winter—each would alter his disposition and result in moody silence. She could not discern what was so alarming about helping Gannon run the keep or manage the harvest.

Feeling the large sorrel-colored steed run at a steady pace, Makenna let go of the reins and spread her arms open, sensing the wind on her face. It felt like years, not months, had zoomed by since she had ridden in this carefree way. Makenna had forgotten how wonderful the sensation was.

She had just closed her eyes when she felt someone yank her off her mount in one powerful swoop.

Landing most uncomfortably, Makenna exclaimed, “Brodie, what the hell!” while twisting to address the man who almost killed them both with such a stupid move.

Colin pulled back his reins and slowed his mount to a slow gait.

“Colin!” Makenna shouted, recognizing her husband. She quickly looked around to see if Brodie was nearby and spied the guard riding opposite their direction to capture her horse. She tried adjusting to a more comfortable position, but Colin’s arm would not budge. “You could have just told me that you wished to talk. There was no need for such dramatics,” she scolded.

Colin refused to speak. He was fully aware that his tightly leashed anger had been spawned from abject fear. But the vision of her riding full-out across the fields with her arms opened wide would haunt his dreams forever. In his vision, the horse stumbled or she became unbalanced. Whatever the cause, the result was always the same—Makenna fell to her death. The idea of her being ripped away from him was unbearable. He would never survive such a loss.

Colin knew he was falling in love, and it frightened him.

Loving Makenna made him vulnerable, in many more ways than he had ever been with Deirdre. Over the past few weeks, he had grown to enjoy their discussions about various clan happenings. She had a different perspective; one he had quickly learned to respect. It was reassuring knowing that even when he was not there, Makenna supported him in both speech and action. And the nights…he never understood what a comfort it could be just to hold someone close as they slept.

Life was good. Love would only disrupt the solitude and peace he had found.

Colin kept silent as he turned the black toward Lochlen.

Makenna watched him in fulminating silence. Colin’s chest and back rippled with tension as he worked the reins of his horse. The one time he did look down at her, the expression in his sapphire eyes was almost unreadable. It seemed to fluctuate between fear and fury. The muscle in the side of his cheek was flexed, accentuating his clenched jaw.

Makenna had no idea why Colin was so angry, but one thing was for certain, when he did finally speak, it would be loud and explosive.

Impatient to discover what had him so mad, Makenna slanted him a questioning glance. “I cannot imagine what has set off this latest crazed action of yours, Colin, but I would like to understand.”

He told himself it was not love that had caused his heart to thump wildly at seeing her so close to potential death. “You’re my wife. I take care of what belongs to me.”

Makenna tried twice more to discover the root of his anger, but Colin refused to speak again. Instead, he rode directly into the inner ward, slid off his black, and then proceeded to carry her up and into her personal room within Forfar Tower. Once there, he let her go and without any explanation for his mood or action, he moved to leave.

She felt empty, angry, and cold.

Her first day of relaxation in months was turning into the worst day of her marriage.

Makenna ran to block the doorway. “Oh, no, you don’t. Do not think for one moment that you can deposit me in my old chambers as if I were a child and then leave. I have done nothing that warrants this treatment.”

“Nothing? You call nearly killing yourself riding arms wide open at a full gallop nothing?”

Makenna listened in bewilderment. “This was all because of how I was riding? You will have to do better than that, Colin McTiernay.”

Colin caught Makenna by the shoulders, forcing her to look up and face him. “Do you want me to do better? Then how about this? You are never to ride in any fashion I would deem unsafe, and that includes dashing about the countryside as fast you can ride. It is dangerous, and I won’t allow it. I’m considering switching your mount with one that is older and unable to move at such speeds just to ensure that my orders are followed. And another matter, I don’t want you sparring with the men again, and that includes Gorten. I’m not sure I even want you carrying around your sword.”

Makenna crossed her arms. The man was indeed crazed if he truly thought she would agree to any of his nonsense. She didn’t care what reasons spawned this dramatic change in attitude, but Colin was just going to have to get over them. “No.”

Her simple, but emphatic reply startled him. He let go of her shoulders and stalked across the room. “You cannot say no. I am the laird of this clan and its people and that includes you,” Colin stated, using his most authoritative voice.

Makenna was unmoved. “Aye, you are laird, but I will bow to no man’s unjust request, laird or not, husband or not.”

Colin had been in countless rows with Makenna, but never had he heard icy brittleness in her voice before. “Unjust? I have every right to protect what is mine from harm. Had it ever occurred to you that you might fall? Or what would happen if you were not quick enough when sparring and was speared by my man’s sword?”

Makenna boldly met his gaze. “Do you think I have never been injured? Colin, surely you jest! I have both fallen and have been cut a great many times. You have seen my body. It is riddled with scars as reminders to each mistake. I have no doubt that I will fall and be hurt again, but that is no reason for me to give up the things I love. What you ask is impossible. Even for you, I will not stop being who I am.”

Colin grabbed the stone-carved mantel above the unlit hearth and took a firm grip on his resolve. He had to stay calm and rational if he was going to win this war. “If not for me, then do it for the sake of our child.”

Makenna frowned. “Our child? Colin, again you make no sense.”

“Makenna,” he began, “you understand how babies are made.”

She tossed her hair behind her shoulders and went to sit down. “Don’t be silly. I know as well as you. And I also know that we have not been married long enough for me to be with child. Why, we married only three months ago.”

“Aye, three months in which practically every night you sleep in my arms.”

Makenna’s hand went to her stomach. She had felt no differently in the mornings, but not all women reacted badly in their first months of the babe’s growth. Could she be? Her monthlies were inconsistent, and she never paid much heed to when they came.

She calmed her racing thoughts. She was not pregnant. It would be impossible. “So? You were married to my sister for over a year, and she never conceived.”

Colin snorted. “Makenna, couples usually have to make love more than a handful of times to conceive. You and I are together more in one night than Deirdre allowed in six months.”

“But you…and she…I thought…” The halting words stumbled and disappeared without completion.

Colin sighed and raked his hair. He turned and moved by the window and looked down to the inner ward. “Deirdre didn’t…enjoy the physical part of our marriage. She tried a few times. Maybe she was too frail. I loved her and wanted to protect her, not hurt her.”

It explained so much of her sister, and her strange decisions, the reasons behind which she never divulged. “Is that why she kept her old room?” Makenna asked, her voice full of hesitation.

“Aye. Deirdre stepped in my bedroom only once when we were married. Maybe out of guilt, maybe out of fear. After our last coupling, I decided to wait and let her come to me when she was ready. She never came.”

Makenna blinked and then stared down at her hands in her lap. So, just as Deirdre had not been the model lady of the castle, she had not been the ideal wife. Still, Colin had loved her. He even freely admitted it just now. Words he had never spoken to Makenna. Until now, the pain of their absence had been manageable.

If Deirdre had not been the ideal wife or the ideal lady, why had Colin loved her so? The only answer that made any sense was her grace, how she made those around her feel, but most of all her delicate beauty unmarred by masculine hobbies. All qualities Makenna would never possess.

Makenna could feel her fingers being pulled into his strong hands. She glanced up and saw Colin squatting in front of her, his blue eyes large and compelling. “Now do you understand? Do you believe that you could be carrying our child? Do you understand that I cannot have another life taken from me? I will do anything and everything to protect you and our child from harm, including taking away those things that you love.”

Colin stood and sank into a chair next to hers. He stared at the cold ashes. “It is not pleasant to speak of such things. I will do so only this once. I loved Deirdre…I loved her very much,” he began softly. “But our marriage was different from the one you and I share. Maybe it would have grown better, if she had not been taken from me. I will never know.” Colin paused.

Makenna could feel her heart pounding. She wanted to scream and tell him it was too painful hearing about his love for her sister. It was cruel for him to speak with such reverence about his late wife. Instead, she sat in pained silence, listening.

Colin squeezed his eyes shut. Remembering. “I used to wish that I had died with her that night.”

“You don’t anymore?” Makenna asked, her voice barely capable of being heard.

“No.”

Makenna waited for him to continue, to give her some verbal balm for her heart. That he was glad to be alive, because of her, of what they shared…something. Instead, he briefly gave her an artificial smile and then looked away again.

“I know giving up some of the things you love will be hard, but just to be fair, I want to give you something as well. I have not been pleased with the amount of work you’ve been doing while managing the keep. Your load is too much. I want you to have Gannon assign your duties to someone else. Now, won’t this make you happy?”

Makenna nodded stiffly. She would curb her sparring and riding, but she would not inflict more work on the few people she had supporting Lochlen. But, rather than argue, she whispered, “I understand, Colin.” Much more than I want to, she added only to herself.

Colin pulled her into a tender embrace. Makenna complied but felt oddly separated from herself. The piece of her heart that enabled her to feel completely free and safe with Colin, the piece that gave her hope that someday he would feel for her some of what she felt for him, had died. She felt like running away and crying.

A shadow quietly crept down the tower staircase and exited unseen. It had been a close call. Makenna was supposed to have been out of the castle for several more hours, allowing plenty of time to search Her Ladyship’s room. Lela had no idea for what, but Leon seemed sure Makenna was hiding something of value. Something she would recognize as important as soon as she spied it.

Lela had been waiting for weeks for today’s opportunity. When Makenna was working in the keep, it was impossible to sneak into the tower. There was too much activity, and Her Ladyship had a habit of meeting with servants in her room. Nights were not an option, since the blasted lady encouraged several of the women to sleep in her old chambers, stating it was warmer and much more comfortable than the small beds in the Pinnacle Tower.

So Lela had waited until Makenna’s scheduled day of rest, knowing she would leave the castle walls. Lela first attempted her search several weeks ago, but Makenna had inexplicably stayed within the castle walls to help. The second time, the clumsy cook burned himself. Today, Makenna had indeed left as planned, but returned early. Lela had barely enough time to hide in the nook just beyond the door before the despicable Highlander marched up the stairs carrying his traitorous bride.

In fear of being imminently caught, Lela hid in the shadows. Hearing the two bicker, Lela felt her dread slowly transform into excitement. Leon would be pleased to hear of what she had learned.

Exiting the tower, Lela headed straight toward the gatehouse and into the village. The timing was perfect. Many of the villagers were breaking and relaxing around the Commune Tree for a few moments before they resumed their work.

“Mona! Bidelia! Gillian! Come listen to what I have just learned. You, too, Angus. Bring David and Keith with you.”

Lela waited until a small crowd had gathered around her. “I have just come from Forfar where I overheard the laird and his wife arguing quite loudly.”

Gillian, a short, rotund woman with very curly gray hair and thick eyebrows, shrugged her shoulders dismissively. “That is your news, Lela? Husbands and wives fight all the time.”

Another woman elbowed Gillian and answered, “How would she know? Her husband was too afraid and too weak to stand up to her!”

Lela clenched her jaw. This was not going as planned at all. “My husband never had to explain that I might be pregnant. And my husband never slept in another bedroom because he was too afraid to bed me!”

“Wherever you are getting your stories, you best look again. I doubt the laird’s slept one night away from his wife since he’s been home. Common knowledge,” one of the men replied, turning to walk away.

“Not his current wife, I’m talking about Lady Deirdre! Did you ever wonder why his first wife never became with child?”

“As it is not my business, no, I didn’t. And truth be telling, I don’t care now either. It does make me wonder why you do,” came a muffled reply from a gentleman enjoying a piece of bread.

“Well, you should, David, and you will. Even now the laird speaks of reducing her workload and enabling her lazy ways. Not once did he mention or praise the support of the people tending his manor, just on ways of burdening you and your sons and daughters more.”

“Why do you care?” one of the more respected men asked. “The way my middle daughter tells it, Lady Makenna works more than her share, and most of the women would like her to unload some of her burden onto them. My youngest daughter is even considering helping out a few days a week. I have encouraged her to do so.”

Lela’s jaw slacked. “Did you say encouraged? Have you forgotten that McTiernay is a Highlander? He is not one of us! He has no right to lead the Dunstan clan. Lady Makenna forfeited her right to be one of us the day she married that man.”

A middle-aged woman of medium height with shoulder-length brown hair and dark blue eyes stepped forward. “I once thought as you, Lela. I did not like the idea of an outsider in our midst, and certainly not as our leader. I resented Lady Makenna for making it possible for the Highlander to become our laird. My husband and I both made our feelings well known.” She paused to stand back and get the attention of the crowd. “But my opinion changed the day that my son, Rory, injured himself in the fields. The laird personally carried him home and stopped by every day to see if he was getting better. He even had one of his men help work the fields until Rory recovered.”

Gillian walked over and placed a hand on Lela’s arm. Lela shook it off. “You have let yourself become blind to the truth, Lela. Your petty jealousies have always been unbecoming, but stop whatever vengeance you seek. It will do you no good.”

Lela glowered at the friendly-looking woman. Never will I stop, she vowed to herself. And neither will Leon. But he’d better act soon, if he wants the clan to support his attack.

Moving to leave, Lela took a last look around for the faces who still advocated removing the Highlander. Most were not there. She smiled in satisfaction. They were completing the wall, just as MacCuaig had asked.

Chapter Twelve

“Ready?” Colin asked Dunlop, who had just entered the stables. It was dark outside. The sun was not due to rise for at least two more hours. Besides the night guardsmen, everyone was asleep.

Dunlop nodded, wary of Colin’s strange mood the past week. For the last three nights, Colin had slept with the men in the training fields, something he had not done since he married. Only once did the men inquire as to their laird’s behavior. Dunlop swiftly ended speculations that something was wrong.

But something was wrong.

Colin was pensive and uneasy. Anger would be much easier to dismiss or even understand. Never, since Dunlop had known the Highlander, had Colin acted this way. It was very odd and very disturbing.

Colin ignored his black, grabbed the stable torch, and left on foot for the outer gate. Dunlop followed. They moved quietly until Colin reached the portion of the town wall that was recently completed. The wall, just like his marriage, seemed to be solid and good. In reality, it was not.

Makenna was not happy. She was unusually quiet and aggravatingly agreeable. Her smiles never filled her face. Bold green eyes, once luminescent and vibrant, had lost their mischievous twinkle. Her newly submissive nature was driving him mad.

He hated it, and he wanted it to stop.

Never did he realize how much Makenna’s spirit made everyone, including him, come alive. He needed her passion and fire; he depended upon it. And he was at a loss as to why it was gone.

Thinking her to be angry over some unknown slight, he had tried to be more loving and attentive. It only seemed to make her even more distant and withdrawn. Even their lovemaking was affected. He became aroused by her slightest movement but was reluctant to touch her. The spark, the passion, the wild honesty had suddenly disappeared. Without it, their coupling felt hollow, reminding him that he once had something fragile and precious, and now it was gone.

The loss only doubled when he learned Makenna was not pregnant. But the fact did not explain why she had been withdrawn before her monthly flux had come.

Desperate, he had asked her directly if she was angry with him. Did she want to ride, desire to train, need more help, or wish he would remain at Lochlen more? Each time her answer was no.

He was losing her, and it was killing him inside.

Colin moved to the wall and pointed to a place where the rocks were joined. He pushed on it, and the pieces moved very easily. Then he went to where the wall had been completed just two months ago. Dunlop pushed on it. It was solid.

Silently, they continued to examine the wall, identifying exactly where it was weak and where it was secure. Only two feeble sections were found, both located in areas the wall remained dark, even when the sun was high. The largest, once broken, would let between six and eight men in simultaneously. The second weak spot was farther down, but much smaller. It would allow a single man to sneak into the castle while all the attention was on the swarm of attackers coming through the larger break.

Colin had first spied the sabotage upon his return from the raids. A few days later, the wall was once again being built correctly. Then a month ago, the builders started again to build and conceal weak spots, but on a much greater scale. Once more, Colin chose not to mention or correct the faulty work.

Together the two sections could be a lethal combination without being a fully destructive one. Whoever was orchestrating this treachery obviously needed to break through the wall, but did not desire having to rebuild large parts of it once in control.

Colin estimated the time till the wall’s completion was approximately a month. Timing would be critical if he were going to unite this clan under his lead. If his estimations were off, there was a chance he could be driven from the Borders and back to the Highlands.

Oddly, the idea did not appeal to him. In the past, the vast mountains that jutted into the sea beckoned him to return. The Highlands were the place of his birth, his heritage, but the day he kissed Makenna, Lochlen had suddenly become home.

Retreating into the inner ward, Colin and Dunlop met in the shadows near the chapel tower. Colin verified no one was close enough to see or overhear them.

“Do you know who is behind this?” Dunlop whispered.

“Aye, but I cannot prove such an allegation.”

“Do you wish for the wall to be dismantled and rebuilt, this time by your own men?”

“I’d rather not announce what we know just yet. I am confident the rest of the wall is and will be quite solid. I doubt MacCuaig wants to spend any more than he has to once he takes over.”

“You suspect MacCuaig, then?”

“I have no evidence, but I also have no doubts it is him,” Colin replied evenly. “Starting tomorrow night, I want two guards posted between the two areas of entry, and two more at the end where there is still construction.”

“Aye, Laird. Would you have them inside or outside the town wall?”

“Inside. We will not openly reveal our knowledge of the traitors, but it should make the clan as a whole quite nervous.”

“You suspect the whole clan?” Dunlop asked, appalled.

“Nay, only a handful of people are actively behind this plot, but there are many more who know of it.”

Dunlop was about to ask another question, when Colin shook his head indicating his unwillingness to explain. “I want the guards posted from sundown to sunup.”

Dunlop looked quizzical for a moment, balancing his desire to know more and his duty to obey. Choosing, he replied, “It will be done as you ask.”

Both departed, going separate ways, avoiding the moonlight. Colin headed toward Canmore, hoping Makenna would still be sleeping in the solar. She was.

Askew in their bed, she had kicked off most of the covers and was lying on her side. The diaphanous linen chemise Makenna was wearing clung to her gentle curves featured in the golden hue of the firelight. She was slim and delicate, and her fiery red hair was fanned out on the white pillow, giving Colin a view of her soft, vulnerable nape.

He could feel himself becoming aroused by the sheer sight. Stripping off his sword, belt, and leine, he got into bed, pulling his plaid over them both.

Instinctively Makenna snuggled up to him, wiggling her backside against him to get more comfortable. The pain of her touch was excruciating, but worth it to feel her again in his arms.

So much of him wanted to kiss her awake and make love to her, but even more, he wanted the feeling that things were as before.

He fell asleep vowing to be gone before she awoke.

Shouts from outside woke Makenna. The room was dark with only hazy shadows dancing on the walls from the dying embers. She knew Colin must have also heard the noise, but neither moved. Colin was on his back and Makenna’s head lay comfortably on his chest. Her legs were intertwined with his. She did not want to give this up.

Colin had been visiting her every night for almost two weeks after she had retired and pretended to fall asleep. He would lie holding on to her and leave her side in the morning just before the sun rose.

Makenna squeezed her eyes tight. If the noise continued, Colin would be forced to rise, and when he did, she could no longer pretend she was unaware that he came to her when she slept.

The noise was getting louder. Fear enveloped Makenna. These precious nights where he just held her were all that was keeping her sane. Without them, she would break down in tears and never be able to stop. At any moment, Colin would leave and this time, he wouldn’t come back.

Colin lay awake, torn between his need for Makenna and rising to end the commotion. The time was late, but it was not yet morning. He guessed it to be two or three hours before sunrise—much too early for all the activity he was hearing.

A loud pounding came from the door. Colin grimaced. The choice between Makenna and duty was no longer his to make. Carefully, he slipped off the bed and rose to see who killed the last semblance of his dream life.

Colin opened the door to a young soldier covered in blood. Behind him, he heard Makenna exclaim, “Good Lord!” before she rushed to his side to help the man.

“Colin, carry him in! Where are you hurt?” Makenna asked, searching his body for the wound that caused such loss of blood.

“I am unhurt, milady. It’s Sean. Dunlop has him in the lower hall. He sent me to fetch you, Laird.” The man’s voice was shaking severely as he spoke.

Colin nodded and moved to get dressed when he heard Makenna order the soldier to enter as she was throwing on her own wrap. “Come in here and sit by the fire. Colin and I will take care of Sean. I will have someone bring you some drink.”

Makenna followed Colin out the door. He hesitated. “Sean had to have lost a lot of blood to cover him like that. You should stay here,” he suggested more than commanded.

Makenna shook her head. “The midwife has gone north to help deliver a baby, and even then, I am better skilled with sword and axe wounds. Let me tend to Sean. You find out who did this, why, and how it happened.”

Colin waved for her to proceed down the tower stairs and followed her into the cold night air. When they reached the lower hall, several people had already congregated. Two more men were covered in blood, and a third was on the table.

Makenna moved quickly to the man’s side. Dunlop looked up, surprised that Colin allowed Makenna to be there.

“Tell me exactly what you know of his wounds,” she directed, her voice calm but full of command.

Dunlop instinctively responded, “There’s a good gash on his left upper arm and one somewhere on his face. But he was severely stabbed here.”

Makenna followed Dunlop’s finger to Sean’s right side. Someone had already fetched water and some cloths and laid them at the end of the table. Picking one up, she put it on the side wound and instructed Dunlop to hold it in place.

Then she dipped a second cloth into the water and began cleaning the young man’s face. The soldier resisted. She moved closer, and as if she were comforting a small child, she crooned, “Sean, I need to get a better look at these wounds. I know you are in pain, but you are going to be just fine. I have worked on many knife wounds, and I know just what to do. Do you trust me?”

Sean nodded his head.

Makenna ordered someone to fetch Camus and bring his stitching bag.

Makenna quickly wiped Sean’s face and located the arc-shaped gash on the side of his forehead. As she suspected, a lot of the blood was coming from that. Next, she stole a brief glance at his arm, confirming Dunlop’s description. It was quite deep and would need to be tended, but not until after she addressed his side wound.

Carefully, Makenna took the cloth from Dunlop and inspected the serious injury. Camus arrived and placed a large bag on the table. “What do you need first?” he asked.

Makenna kept her attention on the deep gash. “I’m going to need a compress made of ground ivy for his arm and head. I’ll need a needle, thread, and a candle to stitch his side.”

Camus began digging in his bag, removing the items. “What else?”

Makenna turned, swiftly looked around, and plucked the dagger sheathed in Colin’s belt. Colin saw her intentions and moved to help. Carefully, they cut away most of Sean’s clothing, trying not to cause him any more pain. By the time they were done, Camus had threaded the needle and was burning the tip in the candle’s flame.

Makenna took the needle and pierced the skin. She heaved a sigh of relief when Sean passed out from the pain. Realizing the soldier was no longer conscious, Colin gathered the men in the room into a huddle.

Quickly Mackenna made small stitches along the long gash and gave Camus further instructions. “When I’m done here, I’ll want to keep a poultice of marigold and John’s Wort over the incision. And include henbane, if you have any more. I’ll need one of your men, Colin, to bring in a bed and a more comfortable chair. It will be easier to take care of him here. Once he’s on the bed, Sean should not be moved again. I don’t want anything reopening that wound. Hopefully the poultice will keep down the pain and bleeding.” Out of her peripheral vision, Makenna saw heads nod as people began to execute her instructions.

“Will he be all right?”

The question came from one of the soldiers who had obviously carried his friend in by the amount of blood on him.

Makenna made the last stitch and tied it off. She stood up and looked the young man in the eye. “The wound is deep, and Sean is very weak. But he was strong and healthy prior to this. If we can avoid fever, he should make it.”

Colin ordered the man to help the others with the bed. Then he pulled her aside. For the moment, with the exception of Camus and Dunlop, who remained with Sean, they were alone.

“Tell me the truth. How does he fare?”

Makenna sighed and looked at the unconscious body. “I spoke in earnest before, though I might have given more hope than I should have concerning the fever. When it comes, I’ll give him a hot broth mixed with elder, yarrow, and peppermint.” She paused and looked up at Colin.

“How did it happen?” she asked, positive Colin had discovered how and why Sean had been injured.

“I assigned a few men to watch over the wall until it was complete for security. Bored, they began sparring. Sean heard a noise, was distracted, and did not deflect the dagger coming at him in the dark.”

Colin hated the dishonesty, but after what he just heard, he had no choice. Four men had tried to sneak through the incomplete portion of the wall. Sean was the first to attack, killing the initial invader. The other guards joined and the battle quickly ended. One attacker, in his last gurgles of breath, had laughed and let them know that MacCuaig was coming and he was after Makenna.

Makenna knew Colin was lying. She had witnessed Colin fighting to control his fury when speaking with his men. All three of the undamaged soldiers still had their daggers with them, and all the blades had been bloody. None of the men apologized either; something she would have expected if Sean’s wound had been caused by a friend. No, whoever did this was an enemy, but whose enemy—Colin’s or the clan’s?

She thought about calling Colin on his lie, but decided against it. For some reason, he did not want to tell her the truth, and she sensed it was not to be condescending or to be in control, but from a need to protect.

“Will you have to go? To check out that noise?” she asked, giving him a way to perpetuate his lie.

Colin’s brows shot up in surprise. “Aye, I…will,” he answered. Blue eyes searched hers for a moment, seeking an indication of whether she believed him or not.

The men returned and began assembling a bed, tightening the ropes before laying the mattress down. Warily, under Makenna’s watchful eye, they lifted Sean and placed him on the bedding. She quickly inspected the poultice bandage on his side and applied the ground ivy compress to his arm and forehead. The wounds were clean and the bleeding had stopped, at least for now.

“Camus, I need to go to my chambers and dress. I will return directly.”

Makenna headed toward the archway to exit the hall and entered the night air. Colin caught up with her and pulled her into his arms. Needing his strength, Makenna gave in to her desire to be held by him.

Things had been so tense between them, and Colin knew this embrace had not resolved whatever was wrong, but it felt good to hold her once more. After a long moment, he kissed her head and whispered into her hair, “Dunlop and I need to leave now. Gorten and Brodie will remain here and protect you. It should not take me more than a few days.”

Makenna nodded against his chest, soaking up his warmth. “Just you and Dunlop?”

“Aye, we should not be gone long. Few days at the most.”

Makenna wanted to say, “Take care. I love you,” but the words would not come out. She felt vulnerable and exposed enough just by his holding her heart.

After a while, Colin slipped Makenna out of his arms in preparation to leave. He looked down and was temporarily frozen. Her eyes had turned a deep forest green. Without thought, he closed his hand around the back of her head and brought her lips up close to his. “Oh, how I will miss you, Makenna.” Then Colin cupped her chin with his hands and kissed her.

His mouth came down on hers before Makenna could even think of moving. She wanted to fight the passionate onslaught, but she didn’t have the strength. A shudder passed through her, and she knew the ragged moan that had escaped was her own.

Colin meant only to give her a gentle kiss. Aye, he meant to say good-bye and remind her of what they once shared, but when Makenna’s arms went around his neck and her mouth opened to him, inviting him in, he found himself kissing her with a hunger akin to pain. Gathering her in his arms, he gave her a hot, searing kiss that held nothing back. Finally, he reluctantly eased himself away from her and disappeared through the gatehouse calling for his horse.

Makenna leaned back and released a joyful sigh. Sean was going to live.

The morning following the attack Sean had started running a fever. During the next twenty-four hours, it continued to grow. He fought drinking the tea and tried to hit anyone who came near him. More than once, Makenna was glad that she had learned to dodge and weave so well, though she never imagined applying the skill in such a way.

Camus came in and relieved her for short bursts, but his knowledge of medicines was only limited to what Makenna had taught him.

The summer he had first started teaching Makenna the ways of swordplay, she had gotten scraped a few times. Fortunately, a visiting nun had taught Makenna the healing properties of some herbs and how to apply them. Afraid that her father would discover her injuries, Makenna had begged Camus to keep the bag of herbs with him lest her father inquire why she would need such items. Camus had held them ever since.

The next two days Sean’s fever raged. He seemed to go through bouts of insanity either attempting to hit Makenna for trying to bury him under burning covers of flame, or lunging at her seeking a kiss while calling Makenna by a female’s name she had never heard before.

Near midnight of the fourth night following the attack, Sean’s head began to cool. He no longer burned her fingers to the touch. She stood and stretched and went to shake Camus, who was sleeping in a chair with his head propped up on the table. “Camus,” Makenna whispered, nudging her friend.

“Huh? What? He worse?”

“No, better. I think our soldier is going to live to fight another battle. He should wake soon. Try to make him drink, but don’t—under any circumstances—let him move. I need a bath. No.” She wagged a finger at him. “I already know I stink and don’t need to be teased about it.”

Camus grinned, glad to see Makenna in better spirits. She had taken only spots of sleep the past few nights and had done very little for herself as she deemed it would keep her away for too long. “I was only going to ask if you wanted me to wake the staff and have them heat some water.”

Camus knew her staff wouldn’t mind. The past few days had shown everyone, even the most hardened, Makenna’s true character. There was a good chance they would argue over who should be the one to serve their mistress.

Makenna yawned and then shook her head left to right once. While she was watching over Sean, the staff had taken the load of her work onto themselves. They had done it without complaint, but she would not burden them further by lessening their sleep. “No, I think I need the cool waters of the loch.”

“When you return, go to bed. Do not come back here until you have slept. If you do, I’ll carry you to your chambers myself.”

“Ah, Camus, you remind me so much of my father.”

“That is the highest of compliments, milady. But it won’t change what will happen if you come back without a good night’s sleep.”

Makenna waved at him and left. She was too tired to argue. She desperately wanted sleep but knew it would not come until she felt clean once again.

Colin arrived at Lochlen and hastily handed his black to the sleepy stable master. He went directly to the solar to check on Makenna. The bed had not been slept in. Assuming she was with Sean, he headed to the lower hall, finding only Sean and Camus awake by the hearth. Sean was taking some broth offered by the old sword smith.

At the noise, Camus looked up and waved Colin over. “Laird, it is good to have you back.”

Sean glanced over his shoulder. “Lady Makenna was like a beautiful angel. She saved my life.”

“Glad to see you are doing better,” Colin managed to get out. It was hard to be civil to another man so open with his affection for Makenna. She was his, and since the distance had erupted between them, he had grown only more possessive of her.

“Aye, she did,” Camus added. “Your wife stayed in here day and night. Only when Sean’s fever broke did she acquiesce to a swim and some sleep. I believe she left for the loch less than a half hour ago with both Gorten and Brodie in tow.”

Makenna stared out at the water glistening in the moonlight. There was a slight breeze causing the surface to ripple and her exposed skin to bristle. She looked around searching the shadows once again. When she had arrived, she thought she heard footsteps and felt the weight of eyes upon her. But when she had gone to investigate, nothing had been there.

Makenna approached the water’s edge and dipped in her toe. The always cold water had taken on a frigid temperature. Fall had started in earnest and she could see her breath in the early morning air.

She took a few steps, braced herself, and then plunged into the icy depths. Her body immediately shunned the cold. Small bumps rippled along her flesh as she stroked the water trying to build heat within her veins. It was not working.

Swimming over to the rock where she had placed her bathing items, she took the soap and began to scrub vigorously at her flesh. It had been only four days since her last bath, but it felt more like thirty. Slowly, she felt the layers of grime wash away and began to massage her hair. She submerged, twisting her head back and forth under the water, rinsing all the soap out, feeling at last somewhat normal again.

Colin saw her emerge out of the water like a siren calling to her next victim. He had no intention in fighting the pull. Immediately he began to strip off his clothes.

Makenna rubbed her eyes to free the attached droplets and felt her jaw drop. Colin was there. And he was removing his belt. “What are you doing?” she snapped, appalled that he just might come in and join her. After their last kiss, she had sworn not to let him catch her in a vulnerable position again.

Colin smiled. It was the first feisty comment she had made in weeks. “Now, I remember a time when you greeted me quite differently when I returned from a trip.”

Makenna pointed at his plaid he was throwing next to hers. “Well, that is not now. Put those clothes right back on!”

Chuckling, he responded, “Then they would get wet.” He sat down on a smooth knee-high rock and proceeded to unlace one of his leggings.

A large sense of unease enveloped Makenna. She would not be able to withstand both her emotional need and physical need for him. She was too tired, and her desire for him was too great. Pride rallied one last time. “Colin, I forbid you to come in here. I am bathing. I was here first, and I want to be alone. Come back when I am done.” Her voice had started out strong but had evolved into a desperate plea.

Colin silently removed his second legging. He knew she was serious in wishing him away, but he also knew that this was the first real conversation they had shared since things had started going terribly wrong. A full battalion of men couldn’t drag him away now. This might be his one chance to discover exactly what had caused her to change so dramatically toward him.

Colin stripped off his leine and then dove into the dark waters. Makenna nervously searched the surface, dreading where he would appear.

Colin emerged right by where she was standing. She took two steps back. He let her.

“Please, Colin, please leave. I am so tired, and I cannot verbally banter with you tonight. I am not up to the task.”

Colin lowered himself into the water until just his shoulders were above the rippling surface. He moved in close and gently cupped her face in his hands. Her scent filled him. “Bantering is not what I had in mind,” he murmured, lowering his head to brush his mouth against hers.

Makenna was startled into temporary submission. Colin persisted in making it impossible to talk by touching her, his big hands smoothing over her shoulders, her back. So much of her yearned to let him continue, to make her feel loved and wanted. But, later, when it was over, she would only feel worse, even hollower than she already did.

Makenna pulled back. Colin released her lips but refused to let her go. “Makenna, speak to me. What’s wrong? I know that you want me as much as I want you. I can feel it. You want to respond to me, but you won’t let yourself.”

Makenna balled her hands on his chest into fists. “I cannot be her. I tried, I really wanted to, for both our sakes. But I cannot do it. I loved my sister, but I am not her. And I cannot be her for you.”

Colin did let go then. “Is that what you have been doing?” he asked, raking his hand through his wet hair. “God, Makenna, that’s the last thing I want. I thought you knew that. I need you, just the way you are!”

“You still love her.”

“She’s dead, Makenna. I have buried her and moved on. You are the only one I want, and I promise you it is not as a replacement for your sister.”

“And what if I were to die?”

The thought of Makenna dying was so repulsive Colin could only stare at her for a moment. “I won’t let you.”

“Won’t let me? Die, you mean? Women do all the time, they become ill, die in childbirth, and what will happen then? Will you mourn me as you do Deirdre? Will you speak fondly about me to your next wife along with your words of undying love for my sister?”

Colin forcefully grabbed her shoulders, splashing the water around them. “I won’t let you die. I will have no other but you, do you understand me?” His voice choked on the words.

“Say no more,” she pleaded softly, looking at his chest, unable to meet his gaze. “It hurts when you say such things. You make me think you care.”

Colin felt like he was caught in a whirlpool, losing control of everything by trying to hang on to it all. He forced Makenna’s chin up. She caught her breath when she saw the fear in his eyes.

Colin saw misery and dejection shimmering back in her green pools; he could no longer deny the truth. “Care? Makenna, I care so damn much it terrifies me.” He let go of her and moved to the large boulder nearby for support. “What I feel for you is…stronger, deeper than what I have felt for anyone. Do you understand what I am saying? For anyone. Every time I kiss you, touch you, God, even just talk with you, I betray Deirdre. Never once did I wish you were like her, but you don’t know how often I wished she had been more like you. I loved her, but you complete me in ways she never could. And every time I thank God that I have you, I feel like I am saying I am glad she is gone.”

Makenna moved then and put her fingers against his lips. Tears streaked down her face and splashed silently into the water. “Shhh, say no more. I love you, Colin. Deirdre warned me that I would. She said I could make you happier than she did, but I didn’t believe her. Not even when I lost my heart to you did I think you could feel anything for me. But she was right. She was beautiful and kind and much wiser than we thought, Colin. She would want us to protect what we share.”

“Aye, she would,” he said softly.

Makenna held his face between her hands, searching his eyes. She could see it now. He loved her and was deeply afraid of saying it aloud. He had loved and lost before.

Colin pulled her roughly into his arms. Makenna melted into him. “God, Makenna, never leave me,” he whispered into her hair. “You are my very breath. I didn’t know how much until these past few weeks.”

Makenna’s fingers maneuvered up the broad expanse of his chest, twining in his curly dark hair. “I’ve been so lonely. You are my best friend. The nights only became bearable when you started sneaking to our bed.”

She could feel his lips curve into a smile. “So you were awake. I thought you might be, especially when you all of a sudden started retiring much earlier than normal, but I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want it to end. It was the only thing holding me together.”

Gently his fingers curled into her red mane and pulled her head back. He leaned down and kissed her again. The sweet, sensual caress went on and on, suffusing her body with an aching need for more. She leaned into him moaning, stroking his tongue with her own.

Colin’s heart pounded so furiously against the walls of his chest, he felt light-headed. He kissed her again, softer this time, consuming, with so much tenderness it nearly choked her.

Makenna felt her body being raised out of the water and carried to shore. She laid her head on his shoulder, periodically kissing his neck and ear. He smelled good, like leather and male. Her breath fanned his cheek. “Everything I am is yours. I love you.”

Her words and kisses were like a healing balm to his soul. They also aroused a hunger for her that was all-consuming. He almost stepped wrong on the rocky pebbles. His concentration was strained; all he could think about was touching her.

His Makenna had returned. She was once again the spirited, spontaneous, and passionate woman that set his body ablaze. He knew he would not be able to wait until they returned to Lochlen to have her. He would barely be able to lay his plaid down.

Finally, they reached the grass. Colin put her down. “Don’t move,” he ordered. His voice was deep and affected, husky with desire.

Within seconds, he was back spreading his thick plaid on the soft clearing. Before she could take a step, he was at her side lifting her up into his arms. Makenna closed her eyes, luxuriating in Colin’s strength as he carried her to the soft awaiting blanket.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he muttered as he covered her mouth with his own. The sense of urgency that was driving his emotions tonight had created an aching hunger in him that only Makenna could assuage.

“Never,” she vowed softly as his lips took hers again in another slow, seductive, mind-numbing kiss.

Colin could barely control his need for her. He cupped her buttocks and pulled her up against his hardness, discovering she was already moist and hot with need. Makenna shivered at his touch and leaned into his smoldering heat. Her hands moved to his shoulders, stroking him. Her legs entwined with his.

Colin glided his fingers from her hip to her breast. As he took the freed soft mounds in his palms, his body began to shake. “God, you are so beautiful, so very, very beautiful. What you do to me,” he groaned with ragged need. He lowered his mouth to her breast and encompassed a pink bud.

He gently held the bloom between his lips and began to suck.

Makenna instinctively arched upward, thinking that she would die of pleasure. She twisted and moaned while her hands clung to his shoulders. Someone was shouting Colin’s name, and Makenna knew that it was her.

Overwhelming passion took over. It was like a dam had exploded, enabling an emotional connection between them that intensified every touch, every sensation, every emotion. Colin released the tasty nub and he kissed her soft, pink, bewitching lips until she clung to him again. His muscled leg was hard and hairy and enticing, sliding up along the delicate skin of her inner thigh.

Colin pulled her roughly against him, letting her feel all of him. He began to move his hips, rubbing his arousal against her. When Colin shifted to allow his hand access to her hot core, Makenna dug her nails into his backside to keep him firmly against her, refusing to let him move.

He lifted his head to look at her. Colin thought he was going to drown in the green depths of Makenna’s eyes. “Please let me touch you. I want to feel your need for me.”

Unable to form a coherent thought, Makenna released her hold. Part of her felt so excruciatingly sensitized that she didn’t think she could endure his deliciously erotic caress.

He slid one finger across the small, swelling button of desire hidden in the soft hair and heard her quick intake of breath.

Then he eased his finger into her snug passage, coaxing forth a honeyed flood that dampened his hand. She felt warm and liquid and sweet, like thick nectar. He didn’t ever want to stop touching her.

Colin eased his finger back out and explored Makenna with a deliberate possessiveness that made her tremble. He repeated the action slowly and deliberately, easing into her and then teasing the small nubbin of female flesh. He did it again. And again.

Makenna was growing wild beneath him, writhing in his powerful grasp, as he continued to touch her in ways he knew would drive her to climax. Her pleasure heightened his own.

She cried out softly as deep tremors shook her.

Colin’s blood pounded in his veins. His male appendage was hot and hard. He knew that he could wait no longer.

“Tell me you belong to me, that you need me, that you want me inside you. Now. Say it, Makenna,” he muttered, his voice strained and husky with passion.

“I need you. Please, Colin, love me now.” It was half plea, half demand.

He came down on top of her, burying his hands in her hair, twisting his fingers in the silken tresses, hugging her to him. His body was incredibly tight and hard with arousal. He kissed her again and tried to calm his own tumultuous need, then reached down and opened her to his first thrust.

Makenna closed around him, hot and wet and clinging.

Nothing had ever been this good.

His fingers crushed hers in a grip that spoke volumes about the fierce emotion coursing through him. Colin thought he was in both heaven and hell being tortured with pleasure and devilish fire. And then he started to move and could no longer think at all.

Makenna opened her thighs wider and wrapped her legs around him. Together they began to move in a primitive rhythm all of their own.

The climax hit him, and he surrendered to the hot whirlwind of spasms. Simultaneously he felt Makenna convulse beneath him, her entire body trembling with erotic release.

Nothing in his life had ever felt so right.

Long minutes passed before either was capable of moving. Knowing that he must be crushing her, Colin propped himself on his elbows and looked down for a second before moving to lie down beside her.

Makenna swallowed. She had seen a steady glow of love and happiness in his eyes and knew the same expression mirrored in her own gaze. Makenna nestled against her husband. She felt both lovely and loved. It was the most incredible feeling she had ever known.

Makenna could feel the cold wind begin to rise and nip at her exposed skin.

Colin felt her quiver. “God, Makenna, you’re freezing.”

She chuckled and snuggled closer. “Pretty understandable when you are forced to bathe in a cold loch in the middle of the night.”

Colin pulled the loose edges of the plaid around her. “Why didn’t you wake your lady’s maid and tell her you desired a bath?”

Makenna laughed and pushed against his chest to get free. She walked toward her clothes and started dressing. “Wake my lady’s maid? Colin, when have you seen me with a lady’s maid?”

Colin shrugged, and then stood, following her lead by pulling on his leine. “I never paid much attention. I thought you just used them when I was not around.”

She scoffed. “The reason you have never seen me with a lady’s maid is that there are none. There is but a single chambermaid, and I am careful not to overuse her lest she want to leave.”

“Then go to the village and hire some help. We have the funds,” he said, holding the reins to her horse.

Makenna shook her head and took the leather strips. “You say it so casually, as if that was all it took. I want help and then suddenly help will appear. The truth is that if I were to do something so foolish like you suggest, the staff I currently do have will disappear. We are incredibly shorthanded and the people who are now supporting Lochlen are overworked. I have learned the hard way that soliciting more help only gets you the kind you don’t want. Too many times, new blankets, tapestries, and rushes mysteriously ended up in one of the hearths. Food went missing, and candles destroyed. Only when I released ‘my new help’ did such activities ease. So, you see, forcing people to my aid causes resentment, and they take it out not only on me, but also on my staff. And when I do find someone willing, I immediately assign them to a position where their help is more needed by the clan, not just me.” She exhaled, realizing that she had just made quite a speech. Still, she couldn’t help but add, “Now do you understand?”

Makenna didn’t expect an answer, and she didn’t receive one. Yet she knew Colin had heard and comprehended every word she had said.

Colin helped her mount and then swung onto his large black. It was time. He would send Dunlop to the Highlands tomorrow.

Chapter Thirteen

Conor watched his son spy the wooden cup his twin sister was chewing. Casually, the toddler waddled over to his father and then slyly snatched it out of her hands. Brenna looked dainty and sweet, but she was nobody’s victim. Instead of yelling or crying, she squinted her eyes and pushed her twin brother, hard. He fell back but held on to his prize with a tight grip. Both met each other’s gaze and smiled triumphantly, each believing they had won.

“Brenna!” Laurel lightly admonished. “How many times have I told you not to push your brother? And, Braeden, you have to know it is your own fault. Why is it that you always think your sister has the better toy?”

Conor shifted his gaze to his wife sitting by the hearth. She was intently working on something for her friend Aileen, who recently discovered she was again with child. Pale ringlets curling around his daughter’s face proved she inherited his wife’s wavy gold hair. And though Brenna was barely a year old, he could see much more of his wife in their feisty daughter. She never backed down from a fight and usually won them. And of course, she had her father completely under her spell.

His son tickled him, and though he would never admit it to Laurel, he was proud Braeden had the instinct to know what he wanted and the fight to get it. But the small boy never went too far with his sister. Braeden intuitively knew that he was much bigger than Brenna and always sought nonphysical means to procure her toys. However, when it came to playing with his uncles, he loved to get rough. Conor’s son was only a year old, but he was a McTiernay through and through.

Conor stood and stretched his long legs. Spying Laurel out of the corner of his eye, he asked offhandedly, “They should go down for a nap soon, aye?”

Laurel put down her needle and cloth and stared at her husband. Dark and huge with twinkling silver eyes, he was the most handsome man she had ever met. He was also pigheaded, stubborn, and prideful, but he was all hers.

She looked back down and resumed her work, trying to hide her smile. “Yes, Brighid agreed to look after them while I try to finish this for Aileen,” she answered in her strongest English accent, knowing how it would rile him.

“If you keep speaking like that, woman, I might order only Gaelic to be spoken on my lands. There’s no way you can create that awful sound with Scottish words on your tongue,” Conor growled.

“Chan eil mi sgìth. Tha mi ag obair,” Laurel repeated in Gaelic.

“Agus chan eil mi sgìth. Tha mi teth, shonuachar,” Conor replied thickly, his voice husky and deep, emphasizing the desire he spoke of.

Laurel smiled. She loved being called his soul mate, and they both knew she was going to agree to his suggestion.

Conor wandered around her chair and stopped just behind her to enjoy the view. Just the thought of having Laurel alone made him ache for her. She had just moved the babes to real food and her delectable breasts were once again completely his. The day was beautiful, and with only a little more coaching, she would be convinced to leave with him for a few hours this afternoon.

The door of the great hall swung open and heavy footsteps entered. It was definitely not one of the servants.

Startled, Laurel looked up wondering who was coming to visit. Conor swiveled to glare openly at the intruder. Recognition set in as he watched his brother’s commander walk the length of the hall toward them. Conor knew instantly that there would be no midday tryst.

Conor turned back to Laurel and whispered, “An-nochd,” promising that his plans were not canceled, just postponed until later.

Dunlop approached the young family and realized he was interrupting their private time. “I am sorry, Laird McTiernay. Your commander, Finn, told me you were here and that I could enter. Good day, Lady McTiernay, it is nice to see you again.”

Laurel stood and greeted him with one of her more dazzling smiles. Dunlop was temporarily transfixed. He had forgotten how beautiful Lady McTiernay was. Slender with gold hair and sea-blue eyes, her physical appearance reminded him of Lady Deirdre.

Conor saw Dunlop’s transparent appreciation of his wife’s beauty. It was a common reaction, far from unusual when guests arrived, but he still didn’t like it. Laurel never flirted. She did something far worse. She was kind and welcoming. Two things Conor knew to be almost as powerful as any spell a woman could weave on a man, especially an unmarried soldier like Dunlop.

Laurel sensed Conor’s possessive bristle. “It is truly lovely to see you as well, Dunlop. We heard of Colin’s recent marriage. Tell me, is it a good one?”

“Aye, milady. A very good one. I believe you would approve of my laird’s choice. Her character is similar to yours.”

Laurel laughed, and it filled the room. “Then she must drive poor Colin in circles. I hope to meet her soon.”

“I am certain she feels the same.”

Conor coughed. Laurel stroked his arm, trying to ease the tension. “Unfortunately, Dunlop, I must leave and see these two little ones have their afternoon nap, but I hope to see you at dinner. Promise me you will tell all about Colin’s new bride and how she has turned our staid Colin into a man of adventure.”

Dunlop’s brows flew up in surprise. He wouldn’t describe Colin as an adventurous man, but there was no doubt that Makenna had definitely changed him. “Aye, milady. I look forward to this evening.”

Laurel smiled and then reached up and grabbed Conor by the neck to get his attention. He had been preoccupied with glaring at their visitor and had not noticed she was preparing to leave. Yielding to her pressure, he turned his head and captured her lips in a brief but searing good-bye kiss, reminding everyone whom Laurel belonged to.

Just as he released her, Laurel whispered into his ear, “Do you think Dunlop hopes you might share me, or should you kiss me again? I vote for the latter, a ghrà mo chroì.”

Her light tease and reminder that he had her love and her heart brought him somewhat out of his dark mood. He swatted her lightly as she broke away, taking the twins out of the room.

Conor motioned for a servant to bring some drink and then leave. He waited for Dunlop to reveal his purpose and explain why he was traveling alone.

Dunlop took the quaich offered and drained its contents. “I am sorry for interrupting your family time, but I assure you it is not without cause. Your brother sends you a message.”

Laurel plopped down in front of her best friend’s hearth and crossed her arms watching Brenna and Braeden play with Aileen’s two-year-old son on the bed across the room. Dark-haired, Gideon looked nothing like his mother, who though not a petite woman, had small feminine features and light coloring. The cottage was comfortable, warm, and inviting…and Laurel’s typical destination whenever she needed advice or just someone to hear her frustrations.

Brenna, a daredevil and performer, stood up on the soft, wobbly surface. Aileen congratulated the small girl on her feat, and Brenna’s two misty gray eyes beamed with pride.

Braeden, seeing all the attention being lavished upon his sister, then tried to stand. Pleased with his success, he clapped his hands together in one swooping movement and immediately fell over. Seeing Brenna still standing, he reached over and pulled her down beside him. Just as she was about to get mad and retaliate, Gideon, seven months older, began to jump up and down on the spongy mattress, completely mesmerizing the twins.

Aileen handed Laurel a cup of mead and moved to join her friend in the adjacent chair. “I would tell Gideon to stop, but I am afraid without his entertainment, Brenna will remember her brother’s behavior. It is amazing at the young age men begin to protect their pride.”

Laurel drank the sweet beverage, enjoying the strong honey flavor. “It is not just boys. Brenna will have to learn to manage her own pride as she grows, lest it get her into trouble.”

“It has been a while now since you have visited with that look upon your face. Has our good laird been foolish enough to quarrel with you again?”

Laurel let a long sigh escape. “Not yet, but a row is brewing in the air, Aileen. It has been some time since I have crossed words with Conor, but I fear we will battle tonight.”

Aileen almost choked on her drink. “Some time? Wasn’t it just last week that you two argued about having too many visitors? Or was it you giving Fiona a week off without asking him?”

Laurel waved her hand. “Those disagreements occurred two weeks ago. Last week, Conor tried to postpone my monthly trip north to Hagatha’s again, and you made your point. Conor and I butt heads…often. We always have and in truth, I think we like it.”

“You like making up,” Aileen chided her playfully.

“’Tis part of the fighting,” Laurel replied, joining in Aileen’s laughter.

Laurel took another drink and then sighed. “Tonight, I fear, will not end like the others. You should have been there at dinner. Never have I been so embarrassed in front of a guest. Conor behaved atrociously, and Dunlop was not blameless. All throughout the meal, the commander found ways to poke and incite Conor’s anger. Both of them were unbelievable.”

“Was it really that bad?” Aileen asked, trying not to be too skeptical.

Laurel curled her feet underneath her and faced her friend. “From the very beginning, it was clear the two men had crossed words since I left them earlier that afternoon. At first, I tried to learn what was wrong and see if I could defuse the hostilities. What I tell you now is an accurate accounting, Aileen. I do not exaggerate.”

Laurel began to disclose the night’s events, reliving them as she spoke.

“You’re not eating, Dunlop. Does the food not please you?” Laurel asked, hoping he would divulge the reason behind his cold mood rather than insult her.

“Your cook is excellent, milady,” Dunlop responded without inflection. He took a bite and then openly glowered at Conor.

Laurel gulped. Very few men ever had the nerve to look annoyed at her husband, let alone palpably angry. “Then perhaps it is the company that causes you to frown so?” Laurel asked, undaunted.

Dunlop’s normally cheerful face tightened further. “Perhaps you are correct, milady.”

Laurel ate a bite of potato and watched her husband out of the corner of her eye as she chewed. He was tense, quiet, and dangerously reserved. The air was almost tangible with male aggression. Whatever had transpired between them had taken several hours and had not ended well.

“Then let us talk of your new mistress,” Laurel offered, attempting to move the conversation to a more receptive topic. “I understand Lochlen Castle to be something of a fortress and the lands quite beautiful.”

“Aye, it is. I am confident Lady Makenna would enjoy showing it to you,” Dunlop remarked.

Before Laurel could reply, Conor slammed his quaich on the table. Its contents sloshed over the sides of the lip and onto the plate of food. He leveled a stare at Dunlop, who returned it unflinching.

Laurel bit her lip to keep from asking why Conor was acting so rude. She agreed long ago to refrain from disrespecting him in public, but that did not mean she would remain passively quiet once they were alone.

Laurel finished her mead and put the empty cup on the small table nearby. “I quickly tried to change the conversation to any number of subjects. Edward I’s death, Robert the Bruce’s recent success at Urquhart and Balvenie. Nothing. No one would engage. I finally could stand no more of my lone voice bouncing off the walls and left. I could actually feel them hurrying me out of the room so they could resume their argument. It was then I decided to visit you. The only thing going my way this evening is Finn’s absence.”

Aileen widened her eyes and then exhaled. “You may not think so later. I believe my husband is right now with Conor, no doubt supporting our laird in whatever discussion was taking place when you left.”

“It was no discussion, Aileen. It was a silent battle of wills. There is only one reason Dunlop would visit Conor without Colin by his side. Colin wants his brother’s help and could not personally leave to request it.”

“And you are guessing that Conor said no.”

“What else explains Dunlop’s disrespectful and belligerent behavior?”

“If what you think is true, then I must admit that I, too, am stunned, Laurel. The laird must have a strong reason not to come to his brother’s aid when asked. It makes no sense.”

“It does if you factor me into the reason that Conor said no.”

Aileen let go a low whistle. “It’s possible.”

“Possible and true,” Laurel said definitively. “Conor would never deny help to any of his brothers.”

“Unless it involved you or the children,” Aileen said, finishing Laurel’s thought. It was common knowledge how the laird felt about his wife. When he almost lost her the previous year to a jealous and deceitful man, he became a man possessed. Even with the threat gone, Laird McTiernay was very conscious of keeping his wife safe.

“I have no doubt that Conor’s reasons have something to do with me. My husband has not left my side for more than two weeks at a time since last year. He’s afraid I will disappear while he is gone or do something worse such as visit a friend and leave the protection of this place,” Laurel grumbled, twirling her hand around before laying it back down on the armchair.

Aileen watched Laurel unconsciously drum her fingers on the wood. A clear sign Laurel was strategizing and preparing for a confrontation. “And just what is your devious mind planning now?”

Laurel smiled as an idea came to her. “Goodness, Aileen, I, devious? I would never use underhanded tricks to get my way. Not my style.”

Aileen shrugged her right shoulder as she leaned over to place her empty cup beside Laurel’s. “I stand corrected. You are more like a…aye, that’s it, like an immovable boulder when you are in the frame of mind.”

Laurel arched her eyebrows briefly in protestation. “Not flattering, but quite an apt description. But with Conor as a husband, I must be or I would find myself doing only his bidding. First, I’ll confirm my suspicions.”

“And if they are right?”

“Then I may be over here more often during the next few weeks in need of your company. Conor will have to trust that I will be fine without him here to oversee my every move, for tomorrow he will head south toward Lochlen.”

Conor made his way up the multiple stories of the Star Tower to his solar. He had seen Laurel return from Aileen’s earlier and knew she was there waiting for him. With each step, the memory of their afternoon kiss filled his mind, and he felt himself harden in anticipation. Despite the afternoon’s events, he hadn’t forgotten the promise he made earlier that day.

His insatiable need for his wife used to scare him. Now he took peace knowing she loved him as much as he loved her.

Conor walked along the stone corridor that shielded the cold winter wind from the inner chamber. The door was ajar. Laurel was sitting cross-legged in front of the firelight brushing her hair. No one in the world was lovelier. She was his heart and soul. He would never allow the possibility of anyone or anything to hurt her.

“I’m sorry, Colin, I just cannot do what you ask. Not even for you,” he whispered to himself.

Laurel gave one last vigorous stroke and then stood to put the brush on the carved bench. She saw Conor just before she turned back toward the hearth. He was leaning casually at the room’s opening, his stance calm, his arms relaxed and crossed. But he didn’t fool her.

Desire swam in his gray eyes…along with fear. If he could, Conor would keep her locked within the McTiernay Castle walls forever.

Laurel leveled her eyes at him. They were dark like a North Sea storm. When she reached for her wrap and put it on, Conor knew his plans for the night had just been placed on hold.

They were both strong-willed, and arguments were inevitable. And while their quarrels were numerous, rarely were they truly heated as long as two simple rules were followed. Laurel hid her displeasure until they were alone, and Conor promised to hear her side before exploding. A clear signal for him to prepare and control his temper was the wrapper.

Conor walked in and unhooked his belt to hang it over the never-used arch chair against the wall. He did so patiently, not saying a word. It had been a hard lesson to learn to keep quiet when Laurel was angry. And any attempt to soften her mood with sweet words made things worse, not better. And questions like “What’s wrong?” or “What did I do?” only excited her anger by many levels.

Laurel watched him unwrap his plaid, fold it, and lay the cloth beside her brush on the bench. “Dunlop seemed to be fairly prickly this evening at dinner.”

Uh-oh, Conor thought, remembering his momentary loss of control at the table. He knew then that Laurel would call him on it later, and later was now.

“Aye,” Conor replied, continuing to undress.

Laurel took in a deep breath and committed herself. “I think you should help Colin,” she stated, waiting for the explosion.

Conor scowled but did not reply.

Laurel knew instantly her assumptions had been right. The man had multiple types of scowls, ranging from irritation to frustration. Tonight, his face resembled a stone surface, utterly unbending. Conor wore it every time their argument was about her safety.

“You don’t know what he is asking, Laurel,” Conor eventually countered.

“You are correct, I don’t know. But I do know that your brother has been through much this past year after the death of his wife. I expect his marriage to Makenna Dunstan was not exactly what he wanted, but what was needed. Colin is a prideful man. He would only come to you if it was important.”

Laurel could tell her arguments had not swayed her husband in the slightest. She rallied her resolve and continued. “Colin is family, Conor, and I know how protective you are of what’s yours. I also know the reason why you are so stubbornly refusing your brother and infuriating Dunlop is because of me. And I won’t have it. I lost my family. I will not let you lose yours. Not because of your incurable need to protect me from nothing.”

Conor made a low, growling sound deep in his throat, venting his frustration. “Your brother was a fool to disown you, and you have a family now. I am your family. My brothers and the twins are your family. And my ‘incurable need’ to keep you safe, as you put it, is something you will just have to live with. For not a day goes by that I forget how close I came to losing you. And I will not ever come that close to hell again.”

Laurel gave him a challenging smile. “You are changing the topic, Conor. You will not win this battle under the guise of ‘I will not lose you.’ How is it that you can rationalize helping our neighbor, Laird Schellden, but you will not leave to aid your brother?”

Conor came to a sudden halt and rounded on her, his expression grave and serious. “If it were just me Colin sent for, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

Laurel stared, not comprehending. “What do you mean, if it were just you? Why else would Dunlop be here if it were not for you?”

Conor remained silent and looked intently into her eyes, watching them widen in surprise and trepidation. He knew the instant she understood what he had meant.

“Colin wants m…me? But why me? How can I help him?” Laurel stammered as understanding dawned on her. Conor was not afraid to leave her alone, but to take her with him.

Conor let go of her shoulders and moved to sit on the bed, burying his face in his hands. “He thinks you can help his new wife. Colin is certain you and Makenna are much alike and enjoy the same things.”

“If I remember right, he was quite vocal against some of my habits,” Laurel interjected.

“You remember right. It seems he has had to adjust his position some since his last visit.”

“I must admit I am surprised. Lady Makenna must be a remarkable woman to bring about such a change.”

“Dunlop believes Colin is in love with her.”

“But what can I do?” Laurel asked, sitting down beside him on the soft mattress.

“You were right in that Colin was not eager to marry again. Makenna was also disinclined, but agreed for the sake of her clan. Unfortunately, her people have strong feelings about a Highlander as their laird. Some are openly hostile. Colin has a plan to unite them under his rule as well as solidify alliances with neighboring lairds.”

“But that does not explain why he wants me.”

“It seems as though Colin’s new wife has had very little support and is new to managing staff. From what Dunlop tells me, Lady Makenna is more accustomed to training with men than running a keep.”

“Training with the soldiers?”

“Aye, that’s my sentiments. He also related that she has made admirable progress in learning her duties as a lady and providing for her clan. What she lacks is another female’s perspective on her accomplishments, someone who can provide insight on how to handle a few rebellious incidents and reinforce her overall confidence. And as I have told Dunlop over and over again, that is not enough reason to risk my family traveling into a hostile environment.”

“Then why is Dunlop forcing the issue?”

“Because Colin told him to. My brother knew exactly what my reaction would be. But what he failed to realize was that on this matter I will not relent. Colin will just have to fare on his own.”

With the whole story finally revealed, Laurel sat for several moments thinking. The solution was obvious, but she would have to use some of those devious ploys she had just told Aileen were not her style. Only for my family, she rationalized to herself.

Clapping her hands on her legs, Laurel rose and walked over to the basin to wash her face. “Well, you are certainly right about the twins,” she began offhandedly. “They are not leaving the safety of their home. I will have to see if Brighid is available to look after them while we are gone.”

Conor felt his temper start to slip again. “No, Laurel, I won’t discuss it. You are not going. I forbid it.”

Laurel visibly bristled. She patted her face dry and gave him her most withering stare as she returned to his side. “It would be wise not to dictate what I can and cannot do. If I recall, this approach has not worked well for you in the past.”

Conor found himself mesmerized by her swirling deep blue and gray eyes, flashing with indignation. Lord, he loved her. “Threatening me has not worked in your favor either, love,” he lightly countered.

Laurel exhaled and let him maneuver her between his legs. “You’re insufferable when you are right,” she retorted, gently slapping his shoulder.

Conor smiled. She had called him insufferable. Her strange pet endearment indicated she was not going to fight him about staying in the Highlands. He had won.

Laurel took a step back and slowly unlaced her wrap, throwing it on the chair nearest to her. Her thin chemise did little to shield her body from his view. The scooped neck hinted at the pale skin it covered, her hidden breasts rising up and down with each breath.

Conor moved to stretch out on the feather mattress as he felt himself harden. Just looking at her gave him intense pleasure.

Laurel moved slowly to the edge of the bed. Conor watched her chemise fall to her waist and then to the floor. She threw her hair back over her shoulder, revealing the soft, vulnerable curve of her neck. God help him, she was driving him to distraction.

Laurel slipped underneath the covers and moved to his side. “Conor, it will be very hard leaving the twins. I don’t think we should be gone for more than a few weeks. Four at the most.”

Conor pulled back from the soul-searing kiss he was about to plant on her lips. “You are not going, Laurel.”

Reaching up, she stroked her fingers lightly through his dark hair. Then turned to fluff the pillow and snuggle closer to him. “I’m too tired to pack this evening. Glynis can help me get ready in the morning. Oh, and I will need some time to discuss the twins with Brighid. I think I can probably be ready after the noon meal,” she finished, reaching up to place small kisses along his chin and lips.

“Laurel…” Conor began, pulling her shoulder so that she faced him once again.

Undaunted, Laurel asked, “Is it possible for Finn to stay behind? Since you will be with me, I would like him as well as your brothers to remain here with the twins until we return.”

“I told you—”

Laurel put a finger against his lips. “And I was thinking, if there is time, I would like to stop by your favorite spot—remember the one you showed me near Stirling Castle?”

Conor did remember. He remembered everything about the trip where he rescued and fell in love with her on his journey home. Part of which included a quick stop at one of his favorite respites. They had not made love there, but he had mentally vowed never to miss the opportunity ever again.

All he could do was nod as the mental vision of her naked on the private cliff danced in his mind.

Laurel beamed him a mischievous smile. “And I thought this time, we can do more than just look at the view….”

Conor swore to convince her to stay home in the morning as he rolled her beneath him and began to press hot kisses down the column of her neck. Reaching her ear, he described in erotic detail what he intended to do to her. Laurel moaned and moved closer, and Conor knew that at last the conversation was over and his original plans for the evening had begun.

Chapter Fourteen

Conor waited patiently for Laurel to join him. Riding on the gray stallion he had acquired for her two years ago, she approached him still smiling the same grin he had put on her face the day before.

They had stopped at the vista he had found as a guardsman many years ago. One could sit forever and stare at the sky caressing the earth and sea. Two days ago, they had enjoyed it in sensual and fulfilling ways that made Conor contemplate turning their unexpected trip into an annual occurrence.

“Is that Lochlen?” Laurel asked, arriving at Conor’s side.

They were on a small crest, but it provided a good view of the castle, its walls, and the gently sloping land stretching around it.

“Aye,” Conor replied. “We’ve been on Colin’s land for over two hours.”

Laurel nodded, glad they were close. The small group had moved slowly, and Conor was showing no signs of being in a hurry to see his brother. Laurel, however, was more than ready to arrive at their destination. She didn’t mind sleeping outside for a day or two, but after a week, she was ready to enjoy a bath and a real bed.

Seamus, one of Conor’s elite guards, guided his horse next to Conor’s and pointed. “Someone approaches. And they ride hard.”

Conor recognized Colin along with two dozen men. Dunlop must also have seen his laird and ridden out to greet him. Signaling for Laurel to follow, Conor moved to meet his brother at an unhurried pace. He could see both the joy and relief in Colin’s expression when he saw Laurel.

“Conor! Laurel! You came! I am both surprised and comforted. I gave Dunlop orders to be persistent, but I must admit I was prepared for your refusal.”

Conor pinched his brows together and beamed an icy look at his brother. “I did not agree. In fact, I am completely against the idea. And as soon as you and I are alone, you will learn exactly how displeased I am that you would even ask Laurel to put herself in danger.”

Laurel nudged her mount forward, interrupting Conor’s glare. “Lord, Conor, the way you are talking right now your brother would never believe me if I told him that only yesterday you were thinking we should come and visit every year.”

Conor opened and then closed his mouth, shifting his heated gaze from Colin to Laurel. She shrugged, completely unconcerned.

Colin watched the interchange, appreciating the chemistry and friendship Conor and Laurel shared. Last summer, he had traveled to see the first of the next generation of McTiernays. He had not been around such affectionate banter since their parents had been alive and he found his brother’s lighthearted and often passionate exchanges with his wife very uncomfortable. He had not admitted it at the time, but he had been desirous of what they shared. Deep inside he knew that only relationships built with honesty, passion, and trust could endure. Friendship and admiration were not enough.

Laurel ignored Conor’s open rudeness and addressed Colin. “I am so pleased you invited me. It has been some time since I have been in the Borders. Magnificent country.”

Colin gave one of his rare smiles to his sister-in-law. “I, too, am grateful and glad that you have come. I forgot for a moment that Laird MacInnes is your grandfather.”

“Indeed. He’s a Highlander destined to live in the Lowlands. Though I know many men, including present company,” she said waving her thumb toward Conor, “who cannot imagine living out their days so far south, I know my grandfather is happiest here. And I can see the same applies to you.”

Colin quickly assessed Laurel. She possessed many of the same outward features as his dead wife, and though no one could deny her beauty, he was no longer lured to women with pale features. A wild redhead with bewitching green eyes held much more appeal. “Will you be visiting your grandfather before your return?” Colin inquired.

Before Laurel could answer, Conor found his voice. “No. MacInnes lands lie too far to the west to visit. Laurel does not want to be away from Brenna and Braeden for that long a period.”

Laurel narrowed her eyes. Conor was right, her grandfather lived near the River Nith by the Lowther Hills, a significant journey from here, but he didn’t need to be so abrupt. She was about to say so when Conor asked, “Is that not what you told me yesterday, love?”

Conor did nothing to hide his glee at seeing her flounder in a manner similar to what she had just minutes ago caused him.

Knowing exactly what Conor was doing, Laurel replied in her most prim and proper voice, “If you do not think we should visit my grandfather while so close to his home, that is, of course, your decision, Conor.” She paused and cleared her throat. “Just as it will be your responsibility to explain it to him when he learns of our whereabouts,” she added, changing to a singsong manner in both voice and behavior.

Dunlop, who had been watching the interchange beside his laird’s side, elbowed Colin and cackled, “Can you see what I have been through, Laird? They are worse than you and Makenna ever dreamed of being!”

Laurel tried to look offended, but failed.

Colin just produced a sideways grin.

Conor faked a grimace and pointed at Dunlop. “You might want to counsel your commander, brother, lest you find yourself suddenly shorthanded.”

Colin ignored the warning. “And just where is your faithful and ever-perfect commander?”

“Exactly where I told Finn to be. Overseeing the safety of the twins.”

Laurel knew the polite conversation would continue until she left. “Before you ask, Colin, they are fine. Both spirited, growing, and mischievous. If you want to know more, I will gab on about them profusely during the evening meal. Meanwhile, I would love to ride ahead and meet Makenna before you and Conor begin to discuss things I have little interest in.”

Colin nodded and moved his horse out of her way. “Dunlop, remain with us. Tavis, escort Lady McTiernay to the castle.”

Laurel waited patiently as Conor selected four additional men to ride with her toward the stone structure.

Conor watched Laurel leave until he was positive she was out of earshot before speaking.

“Aireamh na h-Aoine ort, Colin!” Conor growled, suppressing the true rage coursing through him.

Colin moved his head back as if he were avoiding a physical strike. “Pòg mo thòin, you didn’t have to bring her. Dunlop is stubborn, but you could have said no.”

“Don’t even think about telling me you didn’t know what would happen. You knew Laurel and how she would react, and you wagered she would figure it out and conceive of a way to come.”

“You still could have said no,” Colin countered, understanding exactly why Conor was so angry. If it had been Makenna, his reaction would have been the same.

Conor stared at his brother, gripping his reins firmly. “Then you were lucky, Colin, that much of your plan depended upon Laurel. You have no idea how persistent she is.”

“There will be activity, Conor, but Makenna and Laurel will be well protected and away from Lochlen when it arrives. On this, I give you my word. I would not risk either of our wives.”

Conor looked his brother directly in the eye. Colin met his gaze, and Conor knew that his brother spoke the truth. Conor gestured toward the group of men riding with Colin, wearing McTiernay colors. “And the twenty men?”

Colin shrugged. “I could not just assume it was you. On the chance you were someone else, I thought I would bring a small reminder of who I am and just who my family is.”

Conor grinned and raised his sword high into the air. “Aye. It is good to be a McTiernay.” Conor lowered his sword and looked back. “I thought that might be your intention. So I brought just a few more of us so that there would be no confusion.”

Colin watched as a hundred or more men came into view over the ridge. Conor might say it was for his brother’s benefit, but Colin knew otherwise. He slapped Conor on the back. “Aye, trust that I understand, and I do not condemn you, brother. If positions were reversed, I, too, would have brought an army.”

Conor sighed. He could deny his real reason for bringing so many men, but it would be pointless. “Laurel remains unaware that I brought any other men than the few she saw.”

Colin grunted. “That must have been difficult.”

“Aye, more than you know. At home, she reluctantly agrees to a single escort. If she knew how many men I actually have ensuring her safety, I would never hear the end.”

Colin nodded in understanding. “I, too, have the joy of a willful and infuriatingly independent wife. Only recently did Makenna agree to stop evading her escorts when she leaves the town walls.”

“Creative, is she?” Conor asked, grinning out the side of his mouth.

Colin snorted. “You have no idea. I waver between wanting to throttle the woman and applauding her ingenuity.”

“Prepare yourself. It is a never-ending battle in which you are engaged.”

Colin’s mouth tightened and then he shook his head realizing Conor was telling him of his future. A future he wanted very badly. “Who else knows of the force you bring?”

“If you mean the spies we spotted about an hour north of your boundary, they are aware only of the handful I wanted them to see.”

“Excellent. Your main guards can stay at Lochlen or join my men in the training fields. The rest can stay behind the Lammermuir Hills. Come, the path is well hidden. Passersby avoid the area believing it to be impassable. This will do until MacCuaig makes his move.”

Conor lifted his brows appreciatively and followed Colin as he headed toward the moderately tall and deceptive hills. It was a rare asset to have a natural place in which to hide and train men. “So you have a plan?”

“Of course I have a plan,” Colin said with a confident grin. “I may have moved south, but I am still a McTiernay. Dunlop, send your best men to our allies and then ride to Donovan’s and tell Drake to come home.”

Laurel passed through the last of the stone gate barriers remembering the first time she entered the McTiernay Castle. This experience was significantly different. Instead of friendly and welcoming, the Dunstans were cautious and removed. It was obvious they did not like or want outsiders, especially those that came from the north.

As the last of her escorts crossed the final portcullis, Tavis swung off his horse and ordered someone to inform Lady Makenna her husband’s family had arrived.

Laurel remained seated on Borrail absently stroking his gray mane as she looked about. The inner ward of the castle was odd-shaped, made of four long walls, each unique in length. There was no standard tower keep; instead three great towers appeared to serve as living quarters for the laird, his family, and guests. Thick walls connected the gatehouse to the massive corner towers. From the tower on the left, the curtain wall traveled only a short distance before ending in what looked to be a sizeable chapel. The long wall on the right angled toward a tower somewhat higher than the rest. Between it and the chapel tower were two battle towers that served as hubs, bowing the extended wall to match the small river behind it.

Between the battle towers was a sizeable building Laurel guessed to be the great hall. Farther down was a smaller but similarly shaped structure that could only be the lower hall. Sandwiched between the two buildings were the kitchens and the bailey.

But none of these were as fascinating as the round mammoth to her right. Although only three stories tall, the large black tower rivaled the others.

“Tavis,” Laurel prompted, getting the attention of Colin’s guard. “That tower. It is most unusual.”

“We call it tòrr-dubh.”

“The Black Tower,” Laurel whispered. “Most fitting, and most curiously different. I have never seen or even heard of a tower made of such a dark stone.”

“Aye, I doubt you ever will again. For the past three hundred years, different lairds have expanded Lochlen for various purposes. The laird who commissioned that structure ordered its rocks to be retrieved from the mountains of Skye.”

“The Cuillin Mountains!” Laurel exclaimed. The Black Cuillin Mountains were nestled in the Highlands off the Isle of Skye. She had never seen the hard dark hills that straddled the isle, but she had heard of them and how the hill’s black jagged and twisting rocks touched the heavens.

“Aye, you heard correctly. Laird Ranald was one of the first to build onto Lochlen. His intentions were to create a keep using the hard rock of Skye, believing it would make his castle impenetrable to enemies.”

“How did he ever get the stones all the way down here?” Laurel asked, taking in the black structure with new appreciation.

“By ship. For several years, as soon as winter passed, he would send ships north to bring the rock through the Sea of Hebrides and up the River Clyde where his men would then carry or oftentimes drag it here by land. Only after they began constructing the tower did the laird discover that while the rock was indeed hard, it was near impossible to cut and shape. Stories are that the laird’s wisdom caused him to order the inner walls and other towers be built out of local limestone, but pride made him finish the tower’s exterior out of the wicked rock.”

“It is unique and quite powerful on the eye. Is that the laird’s tower?”

“Alas, no. Laird Ranald lived just barely long enough to see it finished. Until that time he kept his solar in the Canmore Tower,” Tavis answered, pointing at the immense tower on her right, “which still holds the laird’s sleeping chambers.”

Laurel was just about to ask another question, when she spied a woman with deep red hair escaping its braid walking rapidly toward them from the far tower situated higher than the rest. Laurel dismounted and moved to meet Makenna halfway.

Makenna watched the beautiful woman coming toward her. Graceful, tall, and slender, Laurel was everything Makenna feared. The woman exuded a regal elegance that only complemented her beauty. A beauty startlingly similar to her dead sister’s.

Makenna had no doubt Colin would be reminded of Deirdre each time he looked at Laurel. Blond and blue-eyed, her sister-in-law reeked of femininity just as Deirdre had.

“Remain calm and for God’s sake smile,” Makenna ordered herself as Laurel approached opening her arms wide. Makenna stepped into them and felt a genuine embrace. Instinct caused her to give one in return.

“My apologies for not greeting you properly. I had not been told that you had arrived or that Colin had left to meet you,” Makenna said apprehensively, wondering what Laurel must think of her and her abilities to be lady of a castle.

“Nonsense. I just arrived and the few minutes I was waiting let me view your home. I must say I am awed. I can never just walk across my courtyard without fear of running into someone or getting stabbed.”

“Stabbed?” Makenna asked, horrified.

“Exactly my sentiments,” Laurel answered, hoping to ease the fear and unease she saw in Makenna’s vivid green eyes. It was obvious Dunlop had spoken correctly. The young woman had a lot of pride in her keep, but also a lot of self-doubt. Laurel hooked her arm in Makenna’s and prompted them toward the great hall, continuing with her explanation. “Conor refuses to conduct all of his training with his men outside the castle walls. We finally agreed that most of his men would train elsewhere, but he still insists on ‘not wasting the space’ and allows contests to take place where ‘everyone can enjoy them.’ Now, I enjoy a good spar as well as the next woman—”

“You do?” Makenna interrupted.

“Of course, but not every day, and certainly not in a place that makes it difficult for people to do their work.” Laurel waited as Makenna ascended the steps to the great hall and opened the doors.

As Makenna stepped through the entrance, a shot of fear ripped through her. It subsided. The hearth was roaring and the rushes were still fresh. Incidents of sabotage had significantly diminished in the past few weeks, but they still occurred and usually where she least expected them.

Forcing her voice to remain steady, Makenna waved Laurel to one of the chairs situated by the main fireplace. “Can I offer you a drink or some food, milady?”

“No, thank you, and please call me Laurel. I really hate the title, and I doubt I will ever become accustomed to it.”

Makenna reassessed her sister-in-law. The woman might have many of Deirdre’s features, but her sensibility was vastly different. Based on her few short comments, Makenna wondered whether the woman’s nature was more like hers.

Laurel sank gracefully into the padded high-back chair reserved for family and special guests. “Your hall is splendid. Warm and inviting.” She pointed to the sunlight. “You must have a love-hate relationship with those enormous windows.”

Makenna’s eyes popped opened wide, for that was exactly how she felt about them. At that moment, Makenna decided to relax and be herself. She knew she would not be able to keep up the pretense of a lady fully in control of her castle and those around her for long, so she might as well stop now and conserve her energy for the next catastrophe. “Aye, I often think they mock me,” she replied, slipping into a cushioned chair beside her sister-in-law.

Laurel inhaled the scent of the new rushes and pointed at the rainbow of colors hitting the tapestries hanging across from the arched stained glass windows. “Those are lovely and complement the room well.”

Makenna sucked in her breath and decided to plunge forward with the truth. It would be best to divulge now her limitations. “They have been there my entire life, just as most of the castle’s decorations,” she commented quietly.

Laurel smiled. “Blessed are those that come before us, for they do make our lives easier, do they not? Can you imagine preparing for winter and having to adorn our homes? I do not think it possible.”

Makenna twisted in her chair and openly appraised Laurel once again. This time she decided to say exactly what was on her mind. “You don’t know me, and yet you speak as if we are old friends.”

Laurel sighed, but instead of conveying irritation with Makenna’s bluntness, she exuded relief. “I’ll have to remember to thank God in my prayers this evening for giving Colin a wife like you. I have a tendency to be unbearably forward and honest, and I made a promise to myself not to be that way with you. I was going to try to be everything a proper lady should be. Complimentary, friendly, and talkative about nothing. I can’t believe I failed so miserably so quickly.”

Makenna tried to swallow her laughter, but could not. “You didn’t fail, I did! If my sisters were here, you would be stuck here hours and hours learning about those damned tapestries, how the colors were chosen, and the difficulty and skill needed to complete each and every stitch. Trust me, I know.”

“Oh, what a pair we make. If Conor came in right now, he would probably hang his head down and sigh with defeat,” Laurel said haltingly as she joined Makenna in fits of ill-repressed giggles.

“Oh, it feels good to laugh. I never thought I would say this, but I am glad you came.”

Laurel sat forward and smiled, no longer wondering why Colin asked her to come. Makenna needed an understanding female friend. “Do you know what I would love to do right now?”

“What?” Makenna asked, very curious to know what Laurel was thinking.

“I know this sounds completely crazy as I have been on a horse for days now, but you have no idea the infuriatingly slow pace we were going. It was maddening. For the past two days, I have wanted to ride like wind. Will you join me?”

Makenna hesitated and then nodded. “I’ll have to find Brodie or Gorten first. I promised Colin that I would no longer leave the castle walls without my guards.”

“You, too? I think Conor would be happiest if I were surrounded everywhere I went. He’s getting better, but the man practically defines overprotection.”

“Ha! Has your husband ever snatched you off a horse you were riding perfectly safe upon because of an irrational idea that you might fall off?” Makenna asked, snaking her way through the great hall to the large wooden doors.

Laurel followed Makenna outside. “That is bad, but wait until Colin orders a hundred men as escort when you come to visit us in the Highlands. Then you will see what I mean.”

Makenna swung around and shielded her eyes from the afternoon sun. “Good Lord, is that true?”

Laurel followed Makenna inside the stable. “Unfortunately, yes. And I love Conor so much that I pretended not to notice.”

Makenna sent two of the stabled lads for their guards and moved to prepare her brown mare. Laurel’s gray stallion was still bridled and enjoying some fresh hay in a stall.

“Come on, boy,” Laurel said, encouraging Borrail back out into the open. “This time I promise you we will run until we tire.”

Makenna helped the stable master bridle her horse and then waited with Laurel in the outer yard for her guard.

“Makenna!” came a gravelly voice behind her. Immediately, she knew who it was.

“Camus! How are you?”

Camus drew her in his arms and whispered quickly in her ear, “The item you requested is nearly finished. Give me a few more days for polishing, and it will be complete.”

“Thank you,” Makenna returned and then pulled back. “Laurel, please let me introduce to you the finest sword smith in Scotland. Camus, this is Lady McTiernay, Conor’s wife.”

Laurel beamed him a smile that showed true interest and appreciation for such a skill. “Please call me Laurel.”

“Aye, Laurel, I think I will. That is a fine dirk you are wearing, and my guess is that you are quite proficient with it.”

Laurel shrugged. “Some would say I have skill, others would say I need more practice.”

Laughing, Camus waved good-bye just as Gorten and Brodie and two other men under Conor’s command approached. Soon all six of them were free of the castle, the town, and its walls.

For an hour, they rode along the river and across the hills. Sensing each other’s readiness to stop, Makenna and Laurel slowed down near a brook so that the horses could drink.

Gorten met with Laurel’s guards, who agreed to stay back and give the two women privacy. Then he moved beside Brodie, whose brown eyes were filled with concern. “Was it just me, or was Lady Makenna riding with more restraint than normal?”

Gorten nodded brusquely. “Aye, and with much more care. At first, I thought her companion was slowing their gait. Now I am not so sure.”

“Maybe she’s afraid the laird will snatch her off her horse again.”

“Possible,” Gorten murmured, full of skepticism.

Laurel stroked the gray neck of her large friend. “There now, Borrail, was that not fun?”

Makenna slid off her mare and allowed the animal to drink and move about freely. She looked back and wrinkled her nose in disgust. No longer were there just four soldiers overseeing their safety but almost two dozen. Picking up a rock, she threw it into the brook and then sat down on the yellowing but still thick grass. Makenna arched her back and took in a deep breath. “It is so good to get out of those depressing walls. When I leave, I feel like an enormous weight has been taken off of me.”

Laurel joined her on the ground. She picked some nearby fall wildflowers and spun them in her fingers. “And when you return?”

“I just want to leave again. Is that not awful? Those are my people, my clan, and yet they seem so foreign to me. I both love and loathe them at the same time.” Makenna lay down and stared at the sky. “You probably think I am being ridiculous.”

Laurel didn’t know what to say. Lochlen was so very different from McTiernay Castle. The McTiernays were a loud, welcoming bunch that greeted guests with smiles. On the other hand, she was very familiar with the push, pull feeling Makenna was experiencing. “On the contrary, I quite understand.”

Makenna angled her head to see if Laurel was serious. “You mean…”

“No, no. McTiernay Castle is, well, very different from Lochlen, just as it is very different from the home I grew up in.”

“Colin says that you are English, yet you speak Scot very well.”

Laurel threw her flower into the breeze and watched it float away. “I’m half English and grew up not far from here in the Cheviot Hills of Northumberland. Most of the people speak Scot or something very similar. You have to go much farther south toward London to hear pure English.”

“Your English home, was it very bad?”

Laurel studied the folds in her gown. “Not when my mother was alive. Then it was warm and welcoming.”

“Isn’t it odd how one person can both add life to a home and take it away?”

Laurel nodded and picked another flower. “When she passed away, my father grieved terribly and kept himself distant from my stepbrother and me. I think my father mourned my mother until he died. It was like his grief permeated the walls, affecting all who walked them.”

Makenna searched Laurel’s face. “Is that why you left?”

“If things hadn’t changed, I don’t think I would have stayed. However, it was my brother, Ainsley, who actually initiated my leaving. He decided to marry the eldest daughter of our wealthy neighbor. I was clearly unwanted, and his attempts to marry me off were quite unsuccessful.”

Makenna considered that briefly. “I cannot imagine it would be hard to arrange a marriage to you. You are very beautiful.”

“Ah, well, Ainsley had little inclination to put down a dowry, and let’s just say I had little inclination to be ladylike when being introduced to prospective husbands,” Laurel answered, her voice laced with false innocence.

Makenna giggled at the thought and hugged her knees. “What did you do?”

“I left,” Laurel said softly, her mirth disappearing as she remembered her brother’s words of disownership the day she departed.

Makenna recognized the sadness in Laurel’s voice. “So you do understand about not being wanted by your own people.”

Laurel let go the blossom and wiped her hands on her bliaut. “In a way, but your situation is different. Only my brother made me feel unwelcome, and secondly, I am not at all positive that your people want you gone. On the contrary, I think the majority of them think very highly of you. Lochlen is well run and organized. You should have seen McTiernay Castle when I first came upon it. Nightmare is a soft way to describe such mayhem. And when I tried to help…well, you should have heard the rows Conor and I had. The man is very touchy about my making decisions he feels are only his to make.”

Makenna gave Laurel a challenging look. “Ha! I have met your Conor, and he was most agreeable and forthcoming compared to Colin. Sometimes I wonder if my husband actually works at making the most simple of conversations difficult. And his pride, his infuriating pride! It drives everything he does and says!”

“I know someone else with a significant dose of pride,” Laurel squealed as she threw some wildflowers at Makenna and then quickly moved to avoid the revenge attack.

Gorten and Brodie stared at the two women rolling in the grass laughing and throwing weeds and plants on each other whenever they got the chance. “Whatever are they doing?” Brodie asked incredulously.

“I don’t know,” Gorten replied. “But it is good to hear our lady laugh and be herself again. I didn’t know if another Highlander staying at Lochlen was a good decision, but I am beginning to realize just how shrewd our laird is in all things, including his wife.”

Laurel blew stray pieces of grass off her mouth and sat up. “If Conor could see me now, he’d think the southern air has addled my brains.”

Makenna stood up and started brushing off the evidence of their momentary lapse in decorum. “Just tell him it was all Colin’s fault.”

“Colin’s fault?” Laurel questioned as she rose fluidly and began to remove loose grass from Makenna’s back.

“Aye, I am sure it was talk of his pride that led you to attack me.”

“No, it was talk of your pride,” Laurel argued, turning around so that Makenna could brush away any remnants of their merriment. “I saw your face when you entered the great hall and all was in order.”

“Good Lord, it will take a year to pluck this stuff out of your hair,” Makenna murmured. “That wasn’t pride. That was sheer relief. I didn’t want your first sight of Lochlen to be of the truth. Things are bad, Laurel. Very bad. I have less than half the staff needed to maintain a home of Lochlen’s size. My efforts to maintain the castle and prepare for winter are continually being sabotaged by my own clan.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Laurel said, loosening Makenna’s tight braid to remove the embedded branches.

“Oh, that feels better. And it would make sense if you understood just how much they resent me for marrying Colin and making a Highlander their laird.”

“What does Colin say about this?”

“I have only told him a little of what has been happening. I know it angers him a great deal when the attacks involve me, but when they are aimed directly at him, his attitude is almost dismissive. When someone says something rude, he acts as if he didn’t hear it. I haven’t the heart to tell him that his approach isn’t working. I don’t know if anyone can turn a person’s heart, let alone a whole clan. I fear that he will do as you did and leave. Then Colin will lose his chance of being a laird.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that. If Colin didn’t want to leave Lochlen, then he wouldn’t. And if Colin’s plan allows for leaving the Lowlands, then he is not upset at the loss. My guess is that he has found something far greater than being laird of a clan.”

Makenna turned and gave Laurel a doubtful look. “Did you say Colin’s plan? I don’t think he has one. He has more hope than a plan.”

Laurel chuckled and walked toward their horses, grabbing the reins to Makenna’s mare as she retrieved Borrail’s. “I forget you have only been married to Colin for a few months. In a couple of years, I’ll remind you about this conversation.”

“Aye, we have been married only a short time, but I have known him for over two years,” Makenna countered.

Laurel swung onto Borrail’s back and watched in curiosity as Makenna carefully mounted. “And how much time did you actually spend getting to know him?”

Makenna adjusted her skirts and gave Laurel a semi-scathing look. “So I avoided him most of the time. Still, there were two very aggravating years in which I saw very little of this great ability to strategize.”

“Get ready,” Laurel said, smiling as if she were just about to divulge a juicy secret. “You married a McTiernay, Makenna, and they are the masters of strategy. And to them, the very best plans are ones that don’t reveal themselves until they want them to be seen. Trust me, Colin is about to teach your people a hard lesson, and it will be your responsibility to help him when the time comes.”

Makenna scowled at Laurel. “But if he doesn’t tell me anything, how can I help?”

Laurel lifted one shoulder in an elegant shrug. “All he needs is your trust and your love. To know that regardless of the situation, you will support him…even if it means turning against your clan.”

Makenna grimaced and kicked her brown mare into a canter. She hoped it would not come to that, but if Colin were to leave, she would go with him.

Laurel watched in astonishment as Makenna rode proudly by her. Tears were springing up in her green eyes. Laurel suspected Colin had never told his wife how deep his feelings ran for her. She rode up and grabbed Makenna’s hand to get her attention. “Does he know you love him?”

Makenna nodded. “Aye, I told him.”

Laurel squeezed Makenna’s fingers and let go. “Makenna, we have not known each other very long, but I need you to trust that what I am saying is not just for your benefit, but because it is true. Colin loves you very much.”

“I know he cares for me, and sometimes when we are alone, I can see the love in his eyes, but then it is gone. He doesn’t want to love again after Deirdre. I can understand that.”

“He may not want to love you, but he does, even if he doesn’t say so aloud. A man protects what he cherishes, and by the number and size of the soldiers watching over you…”

Makenna glanced at Brodie, Gorten, and the rest of the soldiers keeping just out of earshot. “That’s not evidence of love, that’s just…annoying.”

Laurel shrugged. “Just wait until he learns that you are pregnant. You have only begun to see how annoying his hovering can be.”

Makenna’s hand jerked slightly at the comment. It was enough to confirm Laurel’s suspicions. Makenna was with child, and Colin had no idea.

As Makenna and Laurel neared Lochlen the majority of soldiers following them swung back toward the training fields, leaving Gorten and Brodie and Laurel’s two guards to see them safely back inside. Cresting the hill leading to the town gate, Makenna could see several figures hunched outside. One was unmistakably Colin.

Makenna pointed. Laurel nodded, seeing Conor crouched down on the other side. Makenna slid off her horse and moved quietly toward the group. Laurel followed.

Hearing someone approach, Colin turned and gave Makenna a quizzical look. He motioned for her and Laurel to come closer but remain silent. Then he made a strange gesture that Brodie and Gorten must have understood, for they immediately moved to the opposite side of the gate.

The second she was in arm’s length, Colin grabbed Makenna and placed her behind him. A second later Laurel was behind Conor.

“Whatever are you doing out here? We thought you were inside,” Colin growled.

“It was my fault. I wanted to see the countryside. No one told us that we were to remain confined,” Laurel shot back.

Conor rolled his eyes, and Laurel knew that he was praying for patience.

Laurel ignored him. “What’s happening, Conor? Is something wrong?”

“Not a thing,” Conor answered. “It’s all going exactly to Colin’s plan.”

Makenna’s eyes widened in surprise. Laurel had been right. “Why do we have to remain hidden?”

Colin grinned and then leaned forward eagerly. “Because, it would interrupt the show Lela is giving. And it is quite an interesting one. Come here,” he said, moving just enough for her to see.

Makenna looked through the small opening in the wood planks and saw Lela pacing around the Commune Tree shouting something.

Laurel whispered, “What’s that woman saying?”

“She’s challenging everyone to turn against Colin and join MacCuaig, the laird of a neighboring clan,” Conor whispered in explanation.

“Striopach,” Makenna murmured, unaware she had just called Lela a harlot out loud.

“I actually think you might be right,” Colin affirmed softly. “She’s been meeting with MacCuaig regularly.”

“How much longer are you going to stand by and watch as McTiernay destroys our way of life?” Lela shouted loud enough for all to hear.

“The only destruction and filth I’ve heard is from your own mouth, Lela Fraser. We might not like the Highlander, but MacCuaig is no better. We’ve heard rumors about how he mistreats his own people. Not a man I want to be shifting my allegiance to,” said an older man with short scrubby hair and a wrinkled face.

Lela scoffed and gave him a placating smile. “Make your choice, then, but I would rather be led by a strong Lowland laird with an army who could protect me and my clan than a weak Highlander with a handful of untrained recruits and a vulnerable wall.”

The small crowd became smaller as more turned away and resumed their duties. Still, Lela kept on. Only a few Makenna knew to be adamantly against Colin as their laird remained behind for a while before they, too, decided to leave.

Colin stood up and pulled Makenna up beside him. Conor assisted Laurel and said one word, “Interesting.”

“Aye, ’tis that. It shouldn’t be long now. As soon as Dunlop returns with Drake we’ll be ready,” Colin replied.

Makenna spun around in Colin’s arm. “Returning? I thought you said Drake was out training the men.”

“Aye, I did. I just didn’t tell you where,” Colin pointed out with a touch of self-satisfaction.

“The question you should be asking, Makenna, is what your husband is getting ready for,” Laurel advised.

Makenna crossed her arms and looked directly into her giant’s sparkling blue eyes. “I’ve no need to ask. I already know. He’s about to teach my obstinate, shortsighted clan a well-deserved lesson.”

Colin favored her with a blindingly bright smile. “Aye, wife, and I hope they are quick learners.”

Colin opened his arms, and Makenna stepped into them and held him close. “I hope they are, too,” she whispered against his chest. “For I am ready for this to be over.”

Colin leaned down and kissed her hair. “And if things go wrong, and we leave?”

“Then we leave,” she whispered back.

“Don’t worry. I don’t know if I ever told you this before, but we McTiernays are great planners. Things rarely go wrong.”

Makenna hugged Colin tightly to her. Twice in one day, she was told about the McTiernays’ ability to strategize and plan. Makenna didn’t know if that was a good sign or an omen of bad things to come.

Chapter Fifteen

“Normally, I would agree. But tonight, we want to be late. Let the festivities be well along before we arrive,” Laurel said to Makenna as she plucked furiously at Ceridwin’s dark gold hair. The intricate weave had taken almost an hour to complete, but the end effect was worth the effort. The past two weeks had been extremely illuminating, and Laurel was just starting to feel like she was making real progress.

Her hardest goal had been easily achieved upon meeting Ceridwin. The young woman had come running into the courtyard the day Drake returned, throwing herself quite unladylike into his arms.

She had a heart-shaped face, a sweet disposition, and a mischievous twinkle in her hazel eyes. She openly kissed Drake full on the mouth and cared very little if anyone admonished her for it. She was just as open with her displeasure when she found out Drake had been ordered to continue overseeing the soldiers in the fields. Ceridwin calmed only after he promised to come back and see her every few days.

When Makenna asked Ceridwin to participate in the planning of a semilarge feast celebrating Drake’s return and Conor’s visit, Laurel knew her new sister was going to be fine. Aileen’s friendship gave her a safe, honest place to turn to for questions and support, and she wanted Makenna to have the same.

The two women were like halves of the same loaf, destined to be friends. Ceridwin’s father had raised her alone, and she had often felt out of place knowing more about how to be a man and planting crops than she did about being a lady. A few months ago, her father had passed, and Ceridwin’s aunts had offered her shelter within the village. There she had met Drake, but everyone else she encountered thought her odd and uncultured for a woman of her age. As Makenna shared similar situations and feelings, the two had become fast confidantes.

“There,” Laurel said, looking at Makenna, who was standing over her shoulder, “did you see how I did that? It isn’t hard at all, just a little time-consuming. You just need to remember that trick of how to cross the pins holding the braids so that they don’t come down when you are dancing.”

Ceridwin looked in the polished silver and admired the end effect. “I don’t know if I can go looking like this. I look like a…a real lady,” she said softly.

Makenna nudged her new friend lightly in the shoulder. “You absolutely must. I cannot wait until Drake sees you.”

Ceridwin stood and turned around admiring how the gold velvet of her new gown swirled complementarily around her ankles. Never had she felt more beautiful. Her heart was pounding heavily. Drake had been away for over a week and had returned just that morning, but she had yet to see him.

Laurel waited until Makenna donned her dark green silk bliaut over her cream-colored chainse. Makenna looped her gold embroidered belt matching the stitching around the gown’s collar and sleeves twice around her abdomen, placing a decorative knot in front so that it hung flatteringly with the ends nearly touching the floor. Being careful not to crush the silk, she descended carefully onto the wooden stool and waited as Laurel placed intermittent gold threads throughout her hair. Makenna then loosely pinned back the sides of her thick red hair, leaving the rest to flow freely down her back.

Ceridwin came up beside her and sighed. “Your hair is so beautiful, Makenna. You should always leave it loose like it is now. Until tonight I think I have only seen it braided.”

Makenna reached up and touched the softened strands. She never thought so little effort could achieve this effect. Laurel had showed her how to combine certain plants and then rub minute amounts of the mixture into her hair as it dried. The effect was amazing. No longer was her hair so voluminous and frizzy it drowned out the rest of her face when left unbound. The rich red waves almost reached her waist and smelled of rosemary and lavender.

Laurel pinned the last thread into Makenna’s hair and smiled at the effect. “Yes, I believe our men will be quite pleased with their choices in women this evening,” she said, smoothing out the royal-blue gown she knew to be Conor’s favorite. “I think they have waited for us long enough.”

Laurel grinned and walked toward the door with Ceridwin close behind. Makenna stood and fought her tendency to fidget when apprehensive.

It had been her suggestion to celebrate the harvest, Conor’s arrival, and Drake’s homecoming. But it had been Colin who had requested that she invite the entire clan. She knew then he was going to use the event to carry out some part of his grand scheme. Yet no amount of coaching had persuaded him to tell her in what way. All he would say was “Wait and see.” He promised there would be no fighting and that it would be a relaxing and enjoyable time.

Makenna watched Laurel and Ceridwin disappear down the stairs. “Why do I think you will be the only one relaxed and having fun, Colin?” Makenna sighed aloud.

“Makenna!” Laurel shouted from below.

“Coming!” Makenna returned and quickly descended to join her friends.

As soon as they exited into the cool night air, several soldiers flanked them as they made their way through the mass of people gathered in the inner yard. Makenna had asked Doreen to spread the word that all were invited, but never did she think so many Dunstans would come. Even the feast following her father’s death did not draw so many out of their homes.

There was a large bonfire in the center of the courtyard, and Makenna could see the smoke rising from two others in the outer yard just beyond the curtain wall. Music was erupting from everywhere.

Slowly they made their way into the great hall that was even more crowded than the inner yard. Seated at one end were Conor and Colin engaged in a lively debate about something. Both paused in midsentence upon seeing their wives.

Makenna was barely aware of Ceridwin being pulled away by Drake. Her eyes were locked on to Colin. For a brief moment, the world disappeared. Colin looked at her with so much glittering emotion that Makenna wanted to weep and cry out with joy at the same time. No longer did she see just hot sexual desire blazing in his eyes, but something deeper and far more powerful.

It had been two weeks since Laurel had arrived, and in that time she had given Makenna something she had not realized she was missing—a sense of worth as a woman. Never before did she think she was beautiful, or enticing, or capable of turning a man’s eye. But with Laurel’s and Ceridwin’s help, Makenna had slowly gained the confidence to accept what Colin felt for her, and not diminish or belittle it.

Makenna smiled as Colin skimmed appreciatively over her before locking his eyes once again on to hers. She belonged to him completely and knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Colin belonged only to her.

She would tell him tonight.

Colin watched as Makenna approached, unable to look anywhere else. A surge of pride and possessiveness flowed through his veins. It struck him that he had finally found with Makenna the elusive and special bond his parents had shared.

When he had been very young, he had asked his father what made his mother the most beautiful woman in the entire world. His father’s answer had been “love.”

There in the midst of a boisterous crowd, Colin looked at Makenna and accepted what had happened. He had fallen in love. He waited for the guilt to fill him, but it never came. He gazed into her green eyes and knew she truly loved him as well.

“You’re finally here, and so very beautiful,” he whispered just before he brushed his mouth across hers in an incredibly gentle, almost reverent kiss.

Tingles went down Makenna’s spine. With a soft, low groan, Colin released her lips and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Tonight, love, I shall make love to you in ways that will let you know exactly what you mean to me. You are my heart. I need you, Makenna.”

And then he maneuvered her to the chair next to his, praying he could control his growing desire long enough to commence the next phase of his plan. Tonight provided just the right setting. He would not get such an ideal chance again.

Makenna complied and sank down in shock, wondering if she had just imagined it or if Colin really had called her “love.” It was a little name most men called their wives, but Colin had never once used it with her.

The night continued merrily, and Makenna forgot all about her apprehensions about the McTiernays and their plans. She and Colin had danced until her feet could take no more. More than once Laurel grabbed her to go visit with clusters of women around the room and outside the hall. And for the first time, she felt welcomed into their enclave, able to participate in their conversations about homes, husbands. Even the topic of children didn’t frighten her.

Ceridwin and Drake had disappeared soon into the festivities and had yet to reappear. Makenna had no doubt a wedding was imminent and could not be happier for them both.

Colin moved by the roaring hearth, adjusted the chair so that he could see across the room, and then sat down.

“Come here, m’eudail, I want to kiss you,” Colin beckoned.

Makenna blushed, as she knew that many had heard his endearment, and went quickly to his side lest he became even more vocal.

As soon as she came near, Colin pulled her into his lap and uttered a thick, husky groan as his body responded to the sensual weight of her. Makenna gasped at the feel of his hard, fiercely aroused body. She stirred against him in an effort to get up.

“Stay right where you are, lest I leave here to do what has been on my mind since the second I saw you.”

Feeling emboldened, Makenna turned and nipped playfully at his lower lip. “And would that be so bad?” she asked, twining her arms around his neck.

Colin buried his face in her hair and inhaled the scent of her, part lavender and rosemary and part feminine arousal. He knew she was already moist and ready for him. “Just a little bit longer, love. I promise you I will make the wait worth it for us both.”

Makenna leaned into him and tilted her head back for his kiss. Colin knew Conor was waiting for him, but he couldn’t resist the temptation and took her mouth hungrily. Begrudgingly, he ended the kiss.

“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice thick with need and shades of uncertainty.

Makenna pulled back and held his blue eyes with her own. “Aye. I will always trust you.”

“Then, trust me now, love.”

Colin shifted her slightly so that she remained on his lap without impeding his view of his brother seated on the other side of the room. Makenna glanced around the room to see how many people had been staring at them. She was relieved to see most couples were engaged in conversations or activities of their own and were either oblivious of or indifferent to her and Colin’s passionate embrace. Laurel was situated very similarly across Conor’s lap looking like she, too, had been thoroughly kissed.

Out of the blue, Colin’s voice rang out loudly, cutting through the multiple conversations around the room. “Conor, how does Olave fare?”

“Very well. He has done much to unify the roaming clans in the north. He says they soon will be ready for a leader. He has hinted that they are hoping for a McTiernay,” Conor replied, his voice casual but loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I thought Olave would be seeking the title. Banded together, they will be quite fearsome.”

Conor shrugged his shoulders, somewhat exaggerating the gesture. “I told him he should be chief, but he doesn’t want it. He believes only someone from one of the nearby larger families can truly bind the sparse nomadic tribes and keep them together.”

Colin angled his head slightly and leaned forward to pick up his quaich. “There may be some truth behind his sentiments. The tribes would be more likely to unite if they knew their leader had the support of nearby clans.” Colin swallowed a gulp of ale. “But Olave has our support. This should not be a reason for his refusal.”

“It’s not,” Conor said in agreement while tapping Laurel possessively on the knee. “The man’s in love. Hazel finally convinced him to marry her.”

Colin finished off his ale and put the cup back on the table for it to be refilled. “Quite a determined woman, Hazel. Not many like her.”

Laurel gave her husband a sidelong glance and tried unsuccessfully to get up. “You are being quite loud, Conor, and seriously out of character. Since when do you talk of love, yell across rooms, and keep me planted on your lap in front of company?” she asked in hushed tones.

“Since now,” Conor whispered, hoping the tight squeeze of his hand on her abdomen would encourage her silence. It didn’t work.

“And is it a coincidence that Colin seems to be suffering the same bizarre inflection that has come over you?”

“What do you think?” Conor asked rhetorically before continuing. “Olave is a lucky man, very lucky indeed. How many women would spend five years of their life with a man who vowed himself against the evils of marriage?”

“Most people thought Hazel was a fool waiting for him,” Colin returned.

“Aye, but a dedicated fool. And it paid off. You know what he told me when last we met? That he had finally found where he belonged.”

Colin raised his eyebrows appreciatively and again held firm as Makenna tried to pry his fingers free from her waist. Frustrated, she gave up and crossed her arms. She looked over at Laurel, who shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “I think we are here until they decide otherwise.”

Colin eased his grip, satisfied to see more and more of the hall’s crowd paying attention to their conversation. “I think of Olave often these days.”

“Though I have been at Lochlen but a fortnight, it is clear why,” Conor remarked critically.

This statement cut through even more of the crowd, leaving only a handful of people still pursuing personal conversations. Makenna waited for Colin to speak, but he said nothing. The majority of the room was waiting for Colin to respond, but he showed no intention of doing so.

Exasperated, Makenna waved her hand and asked the question on everyone’s mind. “Who is Olave? And what makes you think of him?”

Colin picked up the refilled quaich and twirled it so that the metal glinted from the firelight. “Olave is probably the greatest skilled fighter I have ever known, and as to why I think of him? You would have to know his story and why his loving and marrying Hazel is so extraordinary.”

Colin took a deep breath as if he were about to continue. Then he hesitated.

This time Laurel pushed him to resume the story. “Is it a secret?”

Colin shook his head. “Olave’s story is no secret. It is about a Highland soldier who meets a beautiful woman from the Lowlands.” Again, he paused and gazed thoughtfully at Makenna and then the crowd. “I warn you now the tale does not end well. It is a tale of intolerance and pride. Do you still wish to hear it?”

Makenna bit her bottom lip and looked at Colin. His expression dared her to say yes. She knew he had been waiting for this moment all evening. An interested audience listening to him tell this particular story.

“Indeed I do. How about you, Laurel? Do you know the story of Olave the Highlander?”

Laurel shook her head, coming to the same realization that Makenna had. “No, I do not, but I am exceedingly curious.”

A triumphant grin grew on Colin’s face. “Then I will tell you.”

Colin rose from the large hearth chair at the same time lifting Makenna in his arms. He placed her back on the soft cushions and moved to stand by the hearth’s mantel in a position seemingly casual but perfect to be clearly heard and understood by all in the room.

“As you just learned, Olave is a Highlander who lives in the northern lands adjacent to Conor’s. You might have assumed he was a McTiernay clansman, but in truth he has never claimed to be part of any clan except that of William Wallace,” Colin began.

“But Wallace had no clan,” a young boy interrupted, already completely captivated.

Makenna glanced at the quiet portion of the crowd recognizing that they, too, were seeing a new side to him. She had seen so many facets of Colin’s personality. Hard, stubborn, passionate, commanding, but tonight she was witnessing the man who was to be the father of their child.

Colin cocked his head to the side and clicked his tongue. “True, but then again you’d have to understand Wallace when he first began to fight the English. I fought with him at Stirling and Falkirk, but Olave knew him from the beginning.

“Many years ago, when Wallace began his crusade to free Scotland, he banded together a group of men who supported his cause. Olave was one of William Wallace’s original rebels. It was he who helped Wallace launch his campaign against the English and free the towns of Aberdeen, Perth, and the lands north of the Forth.”

“So Olave was a hero?” asked an older boy who had moved closer to hear Colin speak.

“Olave, a hero? I don’t know, to some he might be, but he certainly wasn’t one when Wallace started his crusade. Wallace liked Olave’s height and strength and crazed approach to fighting the English, but his inexperience nearly got him killed. During one action, Olave became badly injured.”

“Did William Wallace save him?” came a question from an unknown face in the back of the crowd.

Colin shook his head. “No. He would have if he had known, but it was another of Wallace’s men, a Lowlander, who found him and nursed him back to health. As Olave grew stronger, he wanted to go out and fight. Quickly the Lowlander recognized Olave’s lack of skill with any type of weapon.”

One of the boys held his hand up in protest. “I thought you said he was the greatest swordsman you have ever met.”

“He is the greatest,” Colin affirmed.

“Better than you?” another lad asked.

“Aye, better than me, but he wasn’t back then. It was the Lowlander who taught Olave how to use the sword, battle-axe, and spear.”

Conor spoke up from across the room. “I would have liked to meet the Lowlander who trained Olave, for there is no one better with a spear.”

Laurel shifted in Conor’s lap and stared at him quizzically. “Why didn’t you?”

Conor’s answer was low and deep and full of reverence. “Because the man died at Loudoun Hill over ten years ago.”

Completely engrossed in the story, Makenna urged Colin to continue. “What happened next?”

“Now, as all of you know, Wallace’s battle at Loudoun Hill was one of his first major successes in driving the English from Scotland, but not all of Wallace’s band survived. Many died, including the Lowlander who had befriended Olave.”

“As was most of Wallace’s men, the Lowlander had been from Ayrshire. So when his friend died, Olave felt honor-bound to find his daughter and tell her what happened. He had planned to return quickly to Wallace and fight again, but the moment he met Lisbet, his plans changed.”

Makenna widened her eyes at the unexpected turn in the story. “She must have been remarkable to keep him away.”

Colin smiled. “Aye, she was. Olave described her as the bonniest of what Scotland had to offer with dark brown hair and golden eyes that could melt the hardest of men’s hearts.”

“I thought you said this tale ended sadly,” came a female voice from the back of the room. “Did Lisbet spurn him?”

“Unfortunately, no. Lisbet welcomed Olave’s attention, and soon they handfasted. They lived just south of the lands of Sorn, and Olave joined the small group of locals helping them build fortifications on the newly commissioned keep. All that summer and winter Olave and Lisbet were happy.”

“What happened?” This time the question came from Makenna. Like everyone else listening, she wanted to know the fate of Olave and Lisbet. Suddenly she thought of Deirdre. “Did she…”

Colin knew what she was going to ask and shook his head before she could finish. “Then in the spring, Lisbet’s family learned about the death of her father and arrived to assume control over his home and land. When they discovered Lisbet was handfasted to a Highlander, they made their displeasure known. Nothing he did or could do would please them.”

Suddenly the remaining activity in the room ceased. People laughing swallowed their mirth as Colin’s words lingered in the air. Though they had been pretending not to care about Colin’s tale, it became obvious they had been listening the entire time.

Colin prolonged his silence for several more seconds before continuing. “Despite all of the work Olave had done restoring her home, regardless of what he did for his neighbors on the Sorn keep, Lisbet’s family harassed him mercilessly. It was not long before they had the whole community acting hostile toward him.”

A group of older boys mature enough to begin training moved to the other side of the hearth to better hear the tale. Colin stopped and looked at them intently before asking, “What would you do?”

Their eyes popped open and Colin asked again, “What would you do? How would you react if someone continually attacked you for the color of your hair? Your height? Your size?”

Colin watched the boys fidget as he waited for an answer. After a minute of silence, a skinny boy sitting in front of the crowd announced, “If it were a man, I would thrust a sword right through his heart.” He followed the statement by slicing the air and then stabbing his friend next to him with a pretend claymore.

Colin pointed at him and said, “You, lad, just might, but Olave…well, he chose to do nothing. Instead, he hoped his actions would change their hearts. For during this entire time, the English were attacking in an attempt to reestablish the strongholds Wallace had freed. And each time, Olave would grab his sword and defend them.”

“Did it work?” asked one of the older boys standing a few feet away. Colin recognized him. He was Ian, the one who had publicly ridiculed Colin’s offer of training.

Colin took a deep breath and sighed. “A heart is the hardest thing to change, and unfortunately theirs was so hard against Highlanders, they could not see what Olave was doing for them until it was too late.”

“Too late? Did he go mad and kill them all? Did he kill Lisbet?” asked a woman engrossed by the story.

“Ah, Lisbet. She never acted against Olave, but in many ways she did something just as vile.”

“What?” shouted several voices simultaneously.

“She did nothing,” Colin answered, his eyes level and unflinching as he scanned the people crammed close around him.

“Nothing? How is that worse than what her family was doing? What could she have done?” Ian demanded, his tone defiant.

Colin looked at him and said, “That question you must learn to answer for yourself.” He returned his gaze to the crowd. “Then came the day after a year of hand-fasting, and do you know what he did?”

“I expect he left and never returned,” one frizzy-haired woman retorted. Colin recognized her as one of the women who had once worked in the keep but no longer offered her services.

He looked her straight in the eye and replied, “Aye, that is exactly what Olave chose to do. Scottish pride, regardless of whether Highland or Lowland, can only be beaten and assaulted for so long.

“On the morning of the second day after their hand-fast, Olave dressed and waited for Lisbet and her family to rise for their morning meal. Once they had eaten, he walked over to the door and reached up for his sword that hung above the frame. Then he went and retrieved his axe and his ballock knife. And while Lisbet and her family were still watching, he went out, retrieved his horse, and mounted. And just before Olave left, he said, ‘I leave you, Lisbet, to find someone that will make you happy, but I take my sword with me.’

“Now Lisbet began to panic as she realized Olave was leaving them defenseless. When the English attacked again, they would be unprotected and very vulnerable. She ran after him and begged him to stay.”

“What did he say?”

“He told her that all Scotsmen should know where they belong and accept the price that comes with it.”

“What does that mean?” Ian spoke up, confused by Olave’s departing comment.

“I, myself, didn’t understand what he meant when Olave related his story.”

“But you do now?” Ian asked.

“Aye, I do.”

The woman with frizzy hair stepped forward. “But what happened to Lisbet? Her family? The village?”

“They are all gone, including the Sorn keep. Murdered by English soon after Olave left.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I told you the tale ended poorly.”

Colin clapped his hands, indicating the tale was done. He slyly studied the room. Many were openly nervous; others tried to hide their unease. It was just as he had hoped. He looked at Conor, who lifted his quaich silently to him and nodded. Soon the tale would be repeated over and over again throughout the clan.

It was the Dunstans’ last chance.

Colin closed the door to the solar and watched as Makenna carefully removed the gold threads intertwined in her hair. It had been a long night ending in quiet retrospection. As clan members headed toward their homes, Makenna had taken Colin’s hand and led him back to their room. There she had let go and begun to prepare for bed.

He had expected her to question his story, his motives, what he hoped to accomplish, yet she said not a word. Makenna glided about the room as she prepared for bed. Nothing she did was out of the ordinary. Still, every graceful movement was far more sensual, far more feminine than he could ever remember.

Makenna pulled at the long lace to free her gown and slithered out of it. Lifting a hand to push an errant tendril of auburn hair back behind her ear, she could feel Colin’s blue eyes riveted to every move she made. Pleasure derived from feminine power washed over her.

Colin watched her smile light the deep emerald windows to her soul. He knew that look very well. Makenna wanted him, and she had invented a new version of foreplay. Never did he realize how incredibly arousing it could be just to watch her prepare for bed. He forced himself to enjoy the gift until he could no longer contain his restraint.

Only a single piece of her clothing remained to be shed—her chemise. One side of the semidiaphanous garment slipped off her shoulder as she moved to sit on the edge of the hearth chair. As she brushed her hair back over her shoulder, Makenna’s chest thrust outward, emphasizing the tempting outline of her full breasts and the pink, erect nipples barely hidden beneath the thin cloth.

Slowly she edged her leg out to balance herself as she moved to brush the other side. In doing so, the chemise rose above her knee and with each stroke edged farther up her thigh. She was exquisite.

Colin remembered the first time he kissed her by the loch and how alive she had made him feel. He had been unprepared for Makenna. The first time they had made love, he discovered how lonely he had been, how much he needed what she gave him. Then she had told him she loved him.

He hoped she loved him enough.

Makenna heard his belt rattle on the chest, and then the sound of a thick cloth falling on the floor. She hesitated for a moment and then continued her brushstrokes again.

Colin sank into the chair beside her and stretched out his limbs, hoping that the rest would calm his arousal enough for him to hear the words that would set his heart free or doom him to loneliness. “What did you think about tonight?”

Makenna stopped brushing and turned to look at him. The masculine hunger in him was palpable. She knew that she had stirred his desire and yet he wanted to talk…no, he needed to talk. Maybe he knew…

Makenna swallowed and replied nervously, “You mean the story about Olave?”

“Aye, I mean Olave.”

Relief surged through her. “I thought I would like to meet your Olave and his Hazel someday. Although it has taken him a while, I am glad he has her.”

“Do you not feel for Lisbet?”

Understanding crept into Makenna’s eyes. This strong man, so secure and sure of himself, needed reassurance he wasn’t going to lose her. “Aye, but she was a fool. I understand the desire to listen to one’s family, but to ignore your heart is unwise.” Their eyes locked. “I would never be so foolish, Colin,” she promised in a quiet, but firm voice. “If I had been Lisbet, I would have followed Olave to the ends of the earth.”

“And if those ends were in the Highlands?”

“I love Lochlen and these lands, Colin, but I love you even more. Wherever you decide to live, I and our children shall reside there as well,” Makenna vowed, hinting of their impending family.

Choked with emotion, Colin sat still, absorbing what she said and what it meant. He would never be lonely again. “God, Makenna, I need you so very much.”

“I know. I need you, too,” she whispered back.

He shook his head. He knew he needed to say the words, have her understand. Never before had they been hard to say, but then never before had they meant so very much. “That’s not what I meant. I love you, Makenna.”

The three words she had longed to hear, but never thought she would. Makenna pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and bit down on her knuckle. She watched the flames bounce against the blackened stone walls. Colin was waiting for her to speak, wanting her to acknowledge him in some way, but this was not something she could just accept. Those words had the power to destroy her.

Makenna lowered her hand and spoke. “Colin, please don’t. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it. What we have is good enough, but it won’t be if you lie to me.”

Her voice was hollow and filled with pain, and Colin knew then the agony he had inadvertently inflicted upon her. He reached over and clasped her hand, pulling them both up out of their chairs. Colin folded her tightly against him for several minutes before framing her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. No one had ever looked at him the way Makenna did. The love in her eyes was so bright and clear, he knew it would never waver, regardless of what was to happen.

“If I lost you, it would destroy me. You are the most important thing in my world. I have never felt for anyone what I feel for you. It’s so strong it terrifies me. I can deny it no longer, to you or to me. I never thought it was possible to love someone as much as I love you.”

Colin loved her.

Without saying a word, she lifted her face and kissed him, slowly, deeply. Powerful emotions raged through him. Wild, desperate hunger flooded him.

He shrugged off his leine and turned her around, leaning her back against him. The heaviness of his arousal pressed into her buttocks, reminding her of the heat and strength of his body. Makenna could feel his breathing. It matched her own—excited, uncontrolled, ragged with need.

Makenna felt his fingertips slowly maneuver the chemise off her shoulders. The sensual movement captivated all her senses.

His hands shook as he drew his palm down between her breasts and over the small curve of her stomach and then lower. Makenna grabbed his thighs and felt his muscles flexing beneath her hands.

The full, heavy heat of his erection rubbed against her backside as she squirmed beneath his touch. “I need to touch you, love, so very much.” It was half plea, half demand.

She arched herself against him as his fingers cupped the heat of her, pushing aside the tight curls of her red hair. Slowly, at an almost torturous pace, he edged a finger inside the already slick, hot channel.

Makenna cried out softly and closed her eyes. He was driving her wild with need of him. She wanted to order him to throw her on the bed and bury himself in her, but she just trembled, losing her ability to speak or stand. Colin held her upright and continued to tease her senses with his fingers. She writhed within his grip, grabbing his neck, pleading for more. She was so incredibly hot.

Makenna shuddered beneath the sensual onslaught. She thought she was going to die from pleasure, but did not pull back from it.

“God, Makenna, I don’t think I am going to live through this if I wait any longer,” Colin groaned as he drew her back toward the bed.

Makenna moaned a soft whimper mirroring his own need. The primitive erotic sound nearly drove Colin mad. He came down on top of her and pulled her into his arms. She didn’t resist. Colin growled and sought the intimate connection with her body.

Makenna’s need for him was beyond urgent. Her body took control. She parted her thighs wide for him, and he lowered himself over her. He gripped her hips, and Makenna felt Colin’s broad shaft brush against her, probing gently. Unwilling to wait, Makenna met his exploration with an upward thrust of her hips and they were one.

Colin pulled out and drove slowly into her again, feeling her close around him, clinging to him. She was incredibly hot, wet, and so very tight. She was more than ready for him.

Makenna captured his lips and dove into his warm mouth, kissing him with an almost violent need. She crushed her body against him, rocking, taking him deeper and deeper inside her with each thrust.

Suddenly, Makenna arched against his aggressive hardness and cried out. Colin answered her with an explosive climax so overwhelming he shouted out her name again and again. He was out of control. He was safe. He was loved.

Their bodies were damp with perspiration, and the scent of their love filled the air. Colin didn’t think he had the strength left in him to roll away from her and decided to kiss her instead. First, he kissed her brow, then the tip of her nose. Then he captured her lips, kissing her slowly, taking his time, letting her feel the endless need and love inside him.

“You are so beautiful,” he muttered, awed.

“I’m a complete mess,” she countered, her voice still husky with passion.

“I’m the luckiest man in the world,” Colin sighed with a sense of peace deeper than he had ever known.

Makenna put her arms around him and stroked the sleek, muscled contours of his back. “Why do you say that?”

Her deep green eyes were dark with passion and love. He had never known such contentment. “With the exception of my parents, and to a degree my brothers, I have never felt completely accepted by another soul. I didn’t realize how lonely I had been until that night at the loch when you first told me you loved me. The depth of your confession shook me deeply. I couldn’t sort out my emotions. The only thing I knew was that I wanted you more than ever, and that I had to protect you.”

“People say they love each other every day. You heard it many times from Deirdre. Why should my declaration be so different?”

“People fall in love every day, and their love is real. But it is a rare thing for a man to be completely loved by another. To be accepted without question. To be trusted with blind faith. My parents had such a bond. They would fight, sometimes furiously, but oh, how they loved. Visiting Conor last year, I realized that he had found it with Laurel. You’ve seen them. It is as if they are each parts of the other. Watching them reminded me how rare it was to find someone to share your life with that loves you in that way. I knew then that I would never know the solace it brings. The day I married you I asked you to trust me, and you did, more than anyone had ever done before.”

“Many men have trusted you with their lives.”

Colin rolled onto his back and tucked his arm beneath his head. “Not like that. It is one thing to rely on someone to save your life, but it’s another to trust someone with the quality of your life. The latter takes a far greater leap of faith. You gave that to me, almost from the very beginning. Without it, I don’t know if I would ever have had the courage to love again.” Colin turned to his side and captured her gaze with his own. “And that is why I am so lucky.”

“You are luckier than you think.” Makenna sighed as Colin pushed the heavy weight of her hair aside and started a trail of kisses down her throat.

“Aye, I sure am,” he murmured against her skin, ready to show her again just how much he loved her.

“If being completely loved by one Dunstan is enough to make you lucky, how about being loved by two?”

Colin craned his head back and propped himself up on his elbows. He furrowed his brows questioningly. “By two?” he asked, not understanding.

“Aye, by two. Me and our child, whom I have no doubt will love you and think you are the most wonderful father in the world, just as you are a husband,” she clarified while scattering small kisses along his chin and neck.

“A baby?” he croaked. “We’re going to have a baby?”

“Aye, in the late spring. Are you sure that you are fine with the idea? I know it is soon. We have not been married long, and you have so much on your mind with the—”

Colin lightly pressed his finger on her lips and then slowly released them. His eyes were alight with pleasure. “It is not too soon, though you may think so tomorrow when I assign a hundred men to follow you about and see to your safety.” He bent his head and again started kissing the sensitive areas of her neck before moving lower.

Makenna swatted playfully at his shoulder. “A hundred men! Gorten and Brodie are more than enough and listen to me—nothing is going to change. I will be more careful, but I am not going to sit about through the winter. I would go mad. Do you hear me, Colin? Nothing is going to change.”

Colin stopped his foray, his eyes dancing. “Nothing, Makenna? Then, I guess we should continue with my most favorite time of the day.” Just the thought of burying himself within her sent another rush of desire through his veins. Tonight he was going to indulge himself in a detailed exploration of her body. Every inch of her would be recommitted to his memory.

“And which time is that, husband?” Makenna asked, trembling as he traced the lines of her jaw with his fingertips.

His smile broadened. “The times I get to ravish your body again and again throughout the night,” he reminded her as he lowered his mouth to her breast. The taste of it sent a shudder of excitement through him.

“As I said, nothing is going to change,” she affirmed between gasps as his mouth trailed down past her navel. Sexual tension seized her insides. She shuddered again as Colin tasted the very heart of her. Tonight she would remember for the rest of her life.

Chapter Sixteen

Late the next morning, Makenna met Laurel and Ceridwin in the great hall. Immediately, Laurel could tell the previous night’s events had continued quite favorably for her friend after she had left the party.

“So you have finally arrived. I take it Colin knows about the expected expansion of the McTiernay clan?”

Ceridwin turned in the chair abruptly. “You are going to have a baby?”

Makenna’s grin broadened even farther. “Indeed, I am.”

“And Colin is happy.” Laurel’s statement was more a question than clarification.

“Colin is more than happy,” Makenna confirmed, turning to face Ceridwin. “I have decided that you and Drake shall move into my sister’s old room. I doubt Ula will be returning, and there is no reason it should collect dust from nonuse. Besides, she had the most wonderful view from her window.”

Ceridwin sat in shocked silence, her hazel eyes wide with surprise. Drake didn’t want to delay their marriage, but neither of them wanted to stay with her aunts, and as a soldier he had never had a need for his own cottage. “Really? I mean, to live in the castle…it’s such an honor.”

“Nonsense. It’s silly not to make use of those rooms, and I am feeling incredibly generous today.”

“But what about the laird…?”

“It just so happens Colin is feeling just as generous as I this morning,” Makenna remarked. “Shall we go now and see what must be done?”

Nodding, Ceridwin leapt out of the chair and followed Makenna and Laurel into the inner yard. They made their way quickly to the tower that acted as a hub for the rear curtain wall.

Laurel was the first to enter the room. Makenna heard her sister-in-law’s sharp intake of breath and knew instantly there was something wrong. Squeezing between the stone doorway and a frozen Laurel, Makenna walked into the room and felt her blood begin to boil. Ceridwin must have come in as well, for Makenna heard her squeak, “Oh my.”

Tapestries were shredded and on the floor. What bedding was left was ripped and ruined. Hearth ashes were thrown everywhere. Worst of all was the McTiernay plaid. It hung over the hearth, burned, leaving only scraps and pieces to prove what it once was.

Laurel sensed the extreme tension winding in Makenna and knew she needed to get her out of the room immediately. With Ceridwin’s help, Laurel managed to get Makenna out of the tower and back into the yard.

Once outside, Laurel began rubbing Makenna’s arms now shaking with rage. “I don’t think it was recent, Makenna. There was quite a bit of dust collected, so the steps you took to remove the staff you didn’t trust probably worked.”

“My home!” Makenna hissed through gritted teeth. She shrugged Laurel’s arms off her and bunched her fists. “How dare they!”

Ceridwin bit her bottom lip and fought back tears. “It may be only one person. Perhaps, Lela…”

“Aye, it was Lela, but there were others. Others who knew what she was planning and did nothing about it.”

Laurel took a deep breath knowing that if this had occurred in her home, she would be just as furious. “You need to tell Colin, Makenna. It’s time he knew the full extent of what has been happening. And while you have every right to be angry, you must calm down. You are too early into your pregnancy. I have seen more than one woman lose her babe under emotional stress.”

Makenna took several deep breaths. “You are right. I will not let them take my child from me. And it is time I told Colin what is happening. He is planning something and should know.”

Laurel let go the deep breath she was holding. “Ceridwin and I will check the other unused rooms and then meet you in the hall.”

Makenna nodded in agreement and then left.

“Should we go with her?” Ceridwin asked, looking a little alarmed.

“What if it were you and Drake?” Laurel countered.

“Aye, I’d want to be alone.”

“Just know that the next time you see Colin, his anger is not at Makenna, but for her. I hope the Dunstans are ready, because very soon, I doubt it will matter anymore to Colin if they are.”

Makenna knocked and then opened the door to Colin’s dayroom located on the second floor of Canmore Tower. With Colin were his brother, Drake, Dunlop, and few other men she recognized from Conor’s guard.

Colin was surprised to see her and waved her over. As Makenna neared, the expression on her face conveyed more than any words she could have uttered. “What’s wrong?” he demanded softly.

Makenna shivered at the coldness in his voice. “There has been another incident. Someone wrecked Ula’s room. The tapestries were ripped, most of the bedding was ruined, and what was of any value was stolen. Very little can be salvaged. Laurel is right now with Ceridwin investigating the other unused rooms of the castle.”

Conor waved at Seamus. “Go find Laurel and do not leave her side until I say otherwise.”

Makenna watched as the tall, thin, handsome man left the room. Horrified that she left her friend in harm, she asked, “My God, Colin, is Laurel in danger?”

“No, but it would ease Conor’s mind to know that she is protected.”

Makenna crumpled into the empty seat vacated by Seamus. “This is my fault. It was my decision not to maintain the vacant rooms. It was my decision not to tell you everything that has been happening.”

“There is more?”

She nodded. “I’ve only been telling you some of the things that have occurred, but there have been many harrassments. Until today, they have been aggravating, but relatively minor. But Ula’s room…it was a deliberate attack against you and me. I could rip Lela’s hair out by the roots. I know it was her.”

Colin moved in close and clasped her fingertips in his hands with gentle authority. She didn’t realize how cold she was. “Listen to me, none of this is your fault. I will take care of this. You are not to do anything. I know you want to find Lela, but don’t. I need you to trust me.”

Before she could answer, Colin rose and leaned against his fists on the round table in the room. “Drake, you were about to tell me about last night. How many?”

Makenna stared at the muscles in Colin’s back, tense underneath his leine. She was seeing the strategic Colin, the planner. Last night he had been father and husband, and she had seen him as laird in many circumstances, but this was the first time she had witnessed him as a warrior preparing for battle.

Drake sat across the table. His jaws were clenched together. “At least a hundred have moved in across the loch. They haven’t budged since they arrived at daylight.”

“They’re waiting for a signal,” Conor surmised.

Drake nodded in agreement. “Aye, we think so. We didn’t want to risk being seen to find out.”

Colin turned toward Dunlop. “And what did you discover?”

The guard stopped stroking his chin. It was clear that he, too, was very disturbed at the timing of Makenna’s news. “Just as you suspected. He has help from at least two clans, but neither leader is going public with his support. We saw several changing into MacCuaig colors.”

“How many men?”

“Two, possibly three hundred of his forces are waiting in plain view just outside the southern border of Dunstan lands, perhaps two hours out on horseback. No doubt there are many more hidden.”

Colin bent his head and studied the grain on the table for a moment. When he spoke, his voice was full of authority and decision. “Drake, move the men along the ridge and wait for my signal.”

“Today, then?”

“Aye,” Colin answered solemnly. “It is time for the Dunstans to learn the might of my sword and the meaning of its absence. My wife and child will be with people of honor, and if the Dunstans cannot find their integrity, Lochlen is theirs; I want it no longer. Move all the men along the ridge.”

“All the men?” Dunlop asked, somewhat surprised.

“Every last one of them. When it is time, I want only a sea of McTiernay soldiers to be in sight.” Dunlop inclined his head and left with Drake.

Conor rose with easy confidence. “I’ll order my men to remain hidden in the hills. I’ll talk to Laurel and then will meet you at the stables. I’m sending Laurel to my forces when I leave. Do you want Makenna to go with her?”

Standing, Makenna reached out and grasped Colin’s arm. “Colin, what is happening?”

Colin turned and said, “My hope is to mend this clan and bring them together, united under my leadership. I might have been willing to remain here until they were ready. Now I no longer care. Only you and the baby are important. I like Lochlen, I admire the Dunstan determination, but I will no longer stand by and wait while they persecute my family. Today, your clan will either prove they trust me, or you, my men, and I will leave.” He brushed his mouth lightly across hers before adding, “I need you to prepare to leave immediately. Pack only what is necessary and meet Laurel and Ceridwin by the gatehouse. Four soldiers will be waiting to take you three to Lammermuir Hills, where Conor’s force is waiting.”

“But would it not be better, safer, to remain here?”

Colin chuckled, pulling her close. “There are over a hundred of Conor’s men in those hills. You will be quite safe there.”

Makenna shrugged within his embrace and rested her head against his chest. “Your force may be smaller, Colin, but I am quite sure I would be just as safe with your men as I would be with Conor’s.”

Colin gripped her head between his hands and kissed her forehead with a surge of exasperation and pride. “My force is not smaller, love. Over a thousand of my men are lining up on that ridge. Men loyal to me, not the Dunstans. And if I pull out of Lochlen, I want you already safe and gone. Trust me.”

Makenna gave him one last hug, praying that her people heard what he had tried to tell them last night. Heard and paid heed to the warning.

Makenna was packing her bag when she remembered Camus. She quickly dashed out of the tower and across the courtyard. There was one more thing she had to get. She refused to leave without it. And, if possible, give it to Colin before he faced her people.

Laurel saw Makenna heading toward the inner gatehouse and moved to intercept her. “Makenna, over here! I am waiting for Ceridwin to finish packing. She is coming with us.”

Makenna gave a curt nod of gratitude for taking care of her new friend. “I must get to the armory before Colin leaves.”

Laurel put out a hand to stall her. “The armory? I don’t think…”

Makenna’s smile was without humor. “You don’t understand, but you will. I have to hurry if I am going to catch up with Colin. He was going to the stables when I went to pack.”

“Makenna, Conor said that you were to come with us. He was very clear.”

“Once I leave the armory, I am going to try one last time to convince Colin to let me ride with him.”

“But…”

Makenna’s eyes were the color of jade, firm, resolute and unbending. “I ask you, Laurel, truthfully. Would you not try to be with Conor, show him loyalty, visibly support his decision, if you could? You told me once I might have to choose between Colin and my people. I have chosen. I will always love this land, Lochlen, and my clan, but my loyalties lie first and foremost with my husband. Please say you understand.”

Laurel blinked away tears welling up in her eyes. “Yes, if it were Conor, I would want to be there.”

Makenna clasped Laurel’s hands, thanking her. “I promise to return immediately to the stables if Colin says no. I won’t argue, I promise. Ten minutes is all I need. If I do not meet you there, then you will know that I have persuaded him to let me come.”

Laurel embraced Makenna, fighting a growing sense of unease. “Hurry, Makenna,” she whispered. “Ceridwin and I will wait for you.”

Makenna gave one last squeeze before letting go. “I will and take care, my newest sister.”

Laurel watched as Makenna disappeared through the last portcullis hurrying toward the right. Moments later Ceridwin and she headed toward the stables and waited.

Colin marched across the outer yard heading for the stables. Dunlop met him halfway and handed him the reins of his horse. He had seen Colin in many moods, but the cold anger that had flared to life that morning would chill anyone who looked upon him, even his own men.

Retrieving the leather strips held out for him, Colin looked up. The dark sky was overcast, but it was not yet raining. Most likely, it would not break loose until nightfall, and then it would rain heavily. One way or another, this matter would be closed by then.

Seeing Camus across the yard, Colin signaled him. The sword smith raised a bronzed, wizened hand and then disappeared inside his shop. Heavy pounding of a horse approached from behind. His brother was ready.

“Shall we ride?” Conor asked, pulling his dark stallion to a stop beside Colin.

“Almost,” Colin answered. “I am waiting on Camus and then we will go.”

As if on cue, Camus appeared again carrying a very large clublike weapon reinforced on the end with a thick metal used in armor and battle-axes. “Per your specifications, I believe, Laird,” he said curiously as he handed over the heavy object.

Colin took the macelike club in one hand and examined it. “Aye, this is exactly what I need. If you are ready, get a horse and ride to the Lammermuir Hills.”

“I’m ready,” Camus replied, patting a bag he had swung over his shoulder.

Colin threw the heavy object at Conor and mounted his horse. Grabbing it, Conor grunted at the weight and then turned it over appreciatively. Lifting his brows in approval, he silently praised Camus’s workmanship. “Fine instrument. It should do quite nicely.”

Colin reclaimed the weapon and faced Dunlop. “Are they expecting me?”

Dunlop nodded and replied through stiff lips, “They are. Word was sent you were coming. They are gathering by the Commune Tree near the wall. No doubt more will come at the moment of your arrival.”

Colin’s face hardened, his expression ominous. “Then let us ride.”

Seconds later the group headed toward the outer gate and proceeded directly to the town wall. Colin rode out front, keeping the gait slow and steady as he rode deliberately alongside the wall. Conor and Dunlop remained a safe distance back knowing what was about to happen.

Colin could feel the crowd growing and following him. He felt no pity. Mercy now would hurt them more than compassion.

The moment Colin reached the first and widest sabotaged section of the wall he swung the large club and let it crash into the weakened stones. They crumbled instantly upon the collision.

Moving forward, Colin swung again and then again. Each time the wall caved under the assault. Arriving at the second intentionally weakened section, he swung the club one last time and the stones shattered all around him.

He threw the club at the crowd, causing several to jump back or be hit. He exited through the broken wall. Conor and Dunlop joined him.

Colin stopped and sat still for several moments staring at the fidgeting assemblage, the expression in his eyes unreadable. The gathering continued to swell. Many moved outside the broken pieces of evidence that proved their disloyalty. They waited in silence, unnerved by their laird’s cold and distant behavior.

Finally, Colin spoke. “The Dunstans are a proud clan, one weakened by wars. You needed an army to protect you, and I started building one. I had hoped to see the Dunstans grow again into a powerful family of Scotland.”

Colin looked out, capturing the twitching eyes of several village clan leaders one by one. His face remained a stony mask, his normally bright blue eyes dangerously dark. “My wife wanted the same for you. Her love for her people was so great that she married this Highlander and learned how to be the Lady of Lochlen, a position she never aspired to have. Makenna wanted to make you proud. She hoped you would accept her and allow her to help you make your lives better.” His rapier glance passed over the masses, chilling them with its coldness. “But you chose to reject the kindness offered by her generous heart.”

Colin pointed to the portion of the wall no longer standing. “You do not want the safety being offered to you by a Highlander. You would rather help would-be attackers and have enemies raid your home than live under a McTiernay’s rule.”

Reaching down, he pulled out his sword. Colin held the crowd still, his eyes now burning with raw hurt and pained acknowledgment of what he must do. “I accept your decree. Return to your castle. Give your wall as a gift to a new laird that will make you happy. For while I will lose this castle and the lands to which I have lost blood and lives, I will leave with my pride, my self-respect, and my family,” he said smoothly. “But I will also be taking my sword.”

The crowd watched in half shock, half horror as Colin raised his claymore up in the air. Over a thousand soldiers appeared on the ridge.

Turning to face his men, he punched his sword higher into the air. “With whom do you stand?” he roared, his voice full of command.

Every one of them including Dunlop, who had been watching in silence alongside Conor, raised his sword and yelled, “McTiernay!” The echoes of their definitive loyalty could be heard for miles.

Colin pulled the right rein and rotated back toward the sea of visibly shaken faces. His blue eyes were flat, hard, and remote even as understanding flooded into their expressions. McTiernay was not as weak as they had been led to believe. He had amassed an army loyal to him that could defeat any enemy. They were not stronger or better off under MacCuaig. They had made a terrible mistake and were about to pay the price.

Colin was just about to direct his black toward his men and ride away, when a voice rang out in the crowd. “It was not all of us! Not even most of us betrayed you! Do not leave us defenseless for what only a few did!” the voice cried. It was Gannon’s.

Colin stopped abruptly. His stern-faced expression leveled onto the steward’s. The muscle in the side of Colin’s jaw flexed, indicating how deep his anger ran. “Did you not?” Colin challenged, his voice filled with condemnation. “Can one of you tell me that you were innocent of knowing about the treachery taking place around you? Can you give me your word that you knew nothing, Gannon? Can you swear an oath that you had no knowledge of who acted against my wife? Your own lady?”

Colin slowly surveyed the rest of them and demanded, “Can any of you claim you knew not of the town wall’s weakened state or who caused it? Betrayal comes in many forms, but those cowards who know of treachery and do nothing hold even less value to me than those who actively support my enemy’s cause.”

His voice was laced with dark accusations, ones none of them could refute. Any hope that he would change his mind vanished when Colin spurred his horse and rode away with Conor and Dunlop. Upon joining his men, he led them north, away from Lochlen toward the Highlands. He never once looked back.

Chapter Seventeen

Three hours after leaving Lochlen, Colin amassed his men on the western side of the Lammermuir Hills. The clouds had thickened, causing the sky to hint of dusk versus early afternoon. Rain was imminent.

Colin roamed clasping arms and greeting men he had not seen for months. Expressions of eagerness and respect stared back at him. Dunlop squeezed his shoulder to get his attention and pointed to a group of men apart from the crowd. “Drake’s leaders are assembled and waiting for us. Conor has already joined them.”

Colin nodded and approached the small gathering. He supported Drake’s decision to divide the men into ten mixed-skilled groups, each with its own leader that reported to him. Now they reported to Colin. “It is good to see you again. I shared your frustration these past several weeks at being forced to remain hidden until today. But your patience has paid off. Drake has told me why he selected you, and I stand behind his decision. You ten will now form my elite guard with Dunlop and Drake as your commanders.” Colin scanned the group, finding his brother there for support, but not interfering. “Conor, is Seamus here?”

“I just sent him to the hills to prepare my men. I plan to follow once we are done here.”

“Then I will ride with you. I want to make sure Makenna is well before we return.”

“Are we going back?” asked one of the guards.

“Aye, we are going back. MacCuaig is most likely invading as we speak, looking for us and finding us gone. He will be sloppy, seeking ways to relieve his frustration. I expect a villager or two to arrive any moment and ask for our help. Each of you, rally your men and prepare for battle.”

Immediately the small cluster of leaders disassembled to carry out their orders. Excitement buzzed all around them. For too long they had been away from Lochlen waiting for a chance to rid their home of threats and deceit.

“Dunlop, ensure that the men are ready to move upon my return. Drake, if you want to see that lass of yours, you best ride with Conor and me to the hills.”

Colin was moving toward his black tied with several other horses when he saw three riders coming from the south. He mounted and rode partway to meet them, his face expressionless. Conor and Drake followed.

The three riders slowed, each in various states of nervousness and fright. One of them was Ian. The defiance had left his eyes; his posture no longer carried the rebellious attitude. It was he who spoke. “Laird?”

Colin eyed him with a calculating expression. “I am no longer your laird. Go back to your home.”

Overwhelming panic invaded the young man’s face. His brave countenance wavered. “We’ve come to ask you to return. We know now how wrong we were. What you said was true. Though we never saw ourselves as such, we were the cowards you claimed us to be.”

“Your needs and fears are no longer my concern,” Colin said flatly.

Hot, furious tears burned in Ian’s eyes. “They are your concern. You are our laird, and right now enemy soldiers are entering our lands and occupying Lochlen!” Panic filled his voice. The clan’s only chance was Colin’s return.

“Then you must be happy to have a Lowland laird so amenable to your customs, ways, and values,” Colin replied, his voice remote.

A skinny redheaded boy approximately fifteen years old spoke up. “You misunderstand. MacCuaig has invaded Lochlen with several hundred men. The clan leaders have told him that we will not accept him. You are our laird, and we will fight until you return to our side.”

“He threatened to kill us, Laird,” added the youngest of the three boys. “Our father told us to ride and find you. That you are honorable and would come back to defend us. That you would not let MacCuaig kill loyal Dunstans.”

“Is he right? Are you going to return?” Ian asked directly. A thin flicker of hope burned in his eyes.

Colin’s blue gaze studied Ian. He knew the boy was frightened and ashamed for his previous behavior. Still, he came. “Aye,” Colin said gently, followed by a very firm “Follow us.” He kicked his horse into a gallop toward Lammermuir Hills. The three boys didn’t have a chance to ask why they were heading away from the battle and toward the rocky mounds everyone knew better than to try and cross. A half hour later, their questions were answered without ever being asked.

Ian looked down at the mass of men below as they descended the sloping path toward the hidden army. Armed with bows, broadswords, battle-axes, and halberds, they clearly were soldiers preparing for battle.

“Those are Laird Moncreiffe’s men!” gasped Ian, taking in the huge numbers. In addition, there were plaids from Boyd and Crawford. “Are those Donovan colors I see? Aren’t they with MacCuaig?”

Colin smiled and clapped the young man on the back. “All part of the plan,” he said and then rode on ahead, leaving the young man gaping.

Conor came up beside the stunned lad. “He knew,” Ian stammered. “The laird knew all along what was going to happen. Probably even knew we’d come after him.”

Conor let go a loud snort. “Of course my brother knew! Colin is your laird, and lucky for you he is a Highland McTiernay. Nobody better at planning battles.”

“Did he ever plan on leaving?”

“Not that I am aware of. Colin needed to expose two enemies simultaneously, MacCuaig and those Dunstans truly disloyal to him.” Conor leaned over and whispered, “If you had joined Colin when he asked, you would have been in on the plan.”

Ian’s eyes popped open wide with realization. “Was there ever an Olave?”

“Aye, Olave lives and is happily married to Hazel. Not an aspect of the story was embellished. It all happened as Colin related.”

“But if it were true, then why didn’t the laird leave, like Olave?”

“Ah, you forgot the end of the story, young Dunstan. What did Olave say when Lisbet asked him to stay?”

“He said something about knowing where he belongs.”

“Aye, and accepting the price that comes with it. Your laird knows where he should be, here at Lochlen, leading and supporting the Dunstan clan. If Colin had any doubts, he never would have married Lady Makenna.”

“Was she the price he paid?”

“No, his foolish pride was the price. And know this, Ian, when a man finally abandons his youthful ideas of how things should be and embraces people as they are, he gains something more powerful in return, something a man can take true pride in.”

“What does he get?”

“For your laird? It was his wife. For you? I don’t know. Each man has to discover that on his own,” Conor answered. Laughing gently, he pushed the young man on the shoulder and edged his horse into a lope to join Colin. It had been a relaxing couple of weeks watching his baby brother run a clan and formulate plans, but he was itching for action. Any more leisure and he would slowly go mad.

“I’m going to find Laurel. I want her to start planning our trip home,” Conor hinted as soon as he reached Colin.

Deftly, Colin maneuvered his black through the thick crowd of men. “I’ll go with you. I have a need to tell my wife that her people are with us, and we will not be leaving Lochlen.” Colin threw a speculative, sidelong glance at Conor. “I am not surprised you are ready to leave. If positions were reversed, I might not have made it so long. Your sacrifice is appreciated. Sending Seamus along made a good show when enticing the other lairds to join us. It is one thing to say you have the support of the McTiernays, it is another to show it.”

Conor was about to reply when Seamus appeared with Drake beside him. Colin swung off his horse and clasped his commander around the shoulders. “Ceridwin here?” Colin asked, knowing how Drake felt about his future bride.

“Aye, she is with Laurel and Lairds Moncreiffe and Crawford.”

“And Makenna?” Colin asked, looking in the direction Drake had pointed.

“I have not seen her, but I did not think to ask.”

Conor clasped his brother’s shoulder. “Come, she rode with Laurel. My wife will know where she is. No doubt off sparring with one of your soldiers teaching them a couple of maneuvers right before they go to battle.”

The tease in Conor’s voice received him a sharp elbow to the ribs. “So my wife spars with men. I admit that I am not fond of the idea, but I am man enough to admit that she is damn good. If she had the strength, Makenna could lay any man out. Possibly even me.”

“Such praise! Come on, brother, and let’s find our wives. It’s going to be a long afternoon and if the clouds tell true, a wet one. I shall need a quick reminder of what awaits me when this skirmish is done.”

The crowd parted as Colin and Conor neared the small group of leaders. Seeing Conor, Laurel smiled and rushed to his side. Then she tried to look around Colin’s large frame for her friend. “Colin! Wherever are you hiding Makenna?”

Colin looked at Laurel quizzically. “Why would I be hiding Makenna? Is she not here with you?”

The blood drained out of Laurel’s face, leaving her ashen white. “No,” she murmured, grabbing Conor’s arm for support. “She’s with you.”

Fear gripped Colin’s heart. He had to have heard wrong, misunderstood. “What do you mean she’s with me?”

Laurel licked her lips, panic filling her green-blue eyes. “Makenna said she had to get something from the armory and join you. She promised that it would be all right because she would be with you if she did not return. Makenna told us if she did not meet us at the stables, then she had gotten your approval to ride with you and show her clan that you had her complete support. I swear, Colin, that we waited twice the time Makenna told us to before we left. But if you are here, where is she?”

Colin stood transfixed. Icy fear seized his heart. If Makenna had not found him and she had not returned as promised, only one explanation remained. She was in the hands of MacCuaig.

Conor moved his distraught wife to a nearby makeshift bench and made her sit down. Returning, he said evenly, “How do you wish to proceed? MacCuaig might have ordered her to leave.”

“No,” Colin choked. “What you don’t understand, what even I didn’t understand until recently was why MacCuaig was even interested in the Dunstans. He already had a clan, money, and an army. What he wanted was Makenna, and God, Conor, he now has her.”

“We will get her back,” Conor promised, trying to evoke a feeling of hope rather than the fear coursing through him.

“No, you lead the attack as planned in the village. I will go after my wife, and God help MacCuaig when I find him.”

Makenna watched as the elongated shadow moved down the small staircase and into the room where she was held bound. The dim light coming in from the door indicated it was mid to late afternoon. The mounting humidity in the already damp storage room promised rain.

Leon MacCuaig entered and stared at his captive with a sick look of satisfaction.

Makenna glared back wishing she had been just a little faster at Camus’s this morning. She had searched almost everywhere in the small shop before finding the claymore carefully wrapped and hidden behind several crates. It must have been during those precious moments that Colin had left.

Exiting the shop, Makenna heard the thunderous pounds Colin was generating against the town walls. She had been too late.

Immediately, she ran back to the solar to grab her bag when she heard footsteps ascending the staircase. The thudding echoes were followed by a low questioning hiss, “Makenna? Where are you? I know that you are here. I saw you enter. Now don’t make me chase after you, especially after all I have done just to have you be mine. Come out and show me how appreciative you are.”

Knowing there was no escape, Makenna hid the sword underneath the mattress and exited the solar. That had been five hours ago.

Leon stared at his bound captive. When Makenna had met him willingly on the staircase, he hoped she would be reasonable. He had been disappointed. Her greeting had been filled with acid, not the appreciation due to him.

He should have expected the reaction, he told himself. The woman had endured a Highlander for nearly five months. It was bound to addle her mind temporarily. And while he was not a patient man, Leon knew Makenna would see reason eventually. As soon as she realized the Highlander had left her as well as her clan, she would know Leon was the man for her.

Leon circled around Makenna, stopping when he got in front of her, caressing her cheek with his knuckles. He reached behind and removed her gag. “Have we calmed down a bit? I somewhat regretted having to restrain you like that, my dear, but then I couldn’t risk you calling for help. Now, as you might have surmised, you can yell all you want and no one will hear you. No one but my men. Your famed Highlander has left the Borders and you with them.” His rich-timbred voice was oozing with poisonous charm.