Read Highland Destiny Online

Authors: Laura Hunsaker

Tags: #Romance, #Fantasy, #Adult

Highland Destiny (12 page)

John Campbell

* * * *

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110

Chapter Ten

"Oh no! Oh crap!" Her hands were shaking as she re-read the letter. "There must be a spy here! Connor needs to know!" Mackenzie said it to herself as she ran out of the room, and down the tower stairs. She hiked up her gown and tried not to stumble down the stairs as she hurried. She jumped down the last three steps and ran for the door to the Main Hall. That was how she'd entered the castle the day before, didn't that lead outside? She hadn't really been anywhere in the castle yet, so she tried to remember the way. Of course, though, she got turned around, and searching blindly, Mackenzie followed the sound of swords clanging against each other.

She ended up in a training yard of some sort, but the ever fickle fates were on her side as she saw Connor in the middle of the yard. He was surrounded by men and they were coming at him from different sides. He was amazing.

He was shirtless, despite the crisp October chill, and wearing just his
trews
. She had seen him like this before, but here in the sunlight, she could see his muscles ripple with each movement of the sword, and she could see all of the scars along his back and chest. However, they only added to his sensuality, rather than detract; they hinted at danger. He was no metrosexual peacock like some that she met at clubs and bars; he was all man. A warrior. His bronzed muscular chest was on display as much as his skills were. He swung his claymore in a high arc, bringing it down with a resounding 111

clang against his clansman's sword, and her eyes appraised him with lust. The flex of his muscles brought an undeniable feminine flare of excitement into her belly; he wanted her.

She remembered the way his chest had felt pressed up against hers, the slight scratch of hair, the heat, and felt a slight flush color her cheeks...but she tore her gaze away from his sculpted body, and looked for a way to interrupt without making a scene. Unlikely, though, as there were no other women out there, and seeing as she was already famous, or infamous as the case was, she was sure to cause a stir. Mackenzie hated to interrupt, but he had to see this letter. So she gulped in a big breath, and walked out into the sunlit training yard.

Making her way to Connor, she saw all the men stop and stare at her.
Maybe women weren't allowed down here?
Well, she had more important things to worry about than just committing a social
faux pas.
The men moved out of her way as if the Red Sea had just parted. Connor's eyes found hers at the commotion, or lack of commotion, of her entrance. And he looked annoyed. Really, really annoyed. Mackenzie took a deep breath and smiled anyway, and walked directly to him, stopping only when she was close enough to feel the heat coming off him and smell the scent that was his alone.

"What?" He was definitely annoyed. Well, tough, she had news for him.

"I need to speak with you immediately."

Connor looked as if he was going to chastise her for the interruption, but decided against it and instead bent to pick up his shirt before taking her hand.

112

"Come with me." He dragged her in silence for about five minutes until they were out of earshot of his men, she guessed. They reached a clearing with a small pool of water.

"Oh, it's beautiful," she breathed, her urgent news momentarily forgotten.

"Why did you feel the need to interrupt my training?" He was so distant and sarcastic that she jerked her head around to look at him. What a different man than the one who had left her just this morning.

"Oh," his shortness with her caused her words to come out in a rush, "Connor, I think you're in trouble; there's a traitor here!"

"I ken."

"You do?" she was incredulous, her eyes bugged out of her head. "What do you mean that you know?"

"The man whom we captured in your chambers last night told us all about the plot to kill you. That is what tore me away from you this morning." His voice softened, "Doona be afraid, Mackenzie, I will na let any harm come to you." His blue gaze was running up her body as if she weren't wearing several layers of clothing, and Mackenzie knew the man was remembering their parting that morning. This one man had seen her naked more in a few days, than most of her boyfriends had in a few months. Her skin flushed wherever his gaze lingered.

"Stop."

"Stop what?" His eyes were too wide and innocent; he knew what she meant.

113

"Stop looking at me like...like...like I don't have any clothes on!"

Connor raised an eyebrow, smiled, and taunted,

"Embarrassed?"

"No," she glared, but her blush gave her away.

"Doona be, you're a beautiful woman, Mackenzie," his voice was husky as he drew her into his arms.

"No," she mumbled half-heartedly against his lips.

"Nay?" Connor hovered tantalizingly close to her mouth, and she could feel his warm breath against her lips. God he smelled good. Why had she said no again? Oh right, the spy.

"Umm," she had trouble focusing, "your spy?"

"My what?"

"Uh, the traitor?"

"That's right," his eyes narrowed. "What is it that you feel is so urgent that you ran down to interrupt my training?"

"Someone left me a note in my room."

Connor froze. "Show me," he demanded.

Mackenzie handed it to him wordlessly.

"'Tis in Scots." Connor ground his teeth together.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that the Campbell thinks me an ignorant barbarian too uncivilized to read Scots, the tongue of the Lowlander, if I can read at all. 'Tis his way of insulting me.

'Tis also why he goes by the English 'lord' rather than his own Scottish 'laird,' he thinks himself too good for his own people."

"What does he think you speak?"

"Erse."

114

"What is that, like Gaelic or something?"

"Aye." His terse reply had her biting her lip.

"I'm sorry, it's just that I don't know that much about your people."

"'Tis Scottish Gaelic. The English are trying to drive us out, and require that we speak their language and present ourselves in Edinburgh once a year to report on our clans.

Your betrothed is the primary promoter of the Clearances. He has said quite publicly that in the Highlands, the Irish language should be forcibly suppressed as the stronghold of ignorance and rebellion. He takes it upon himself to suppress it." He explained it impatiently, but at least he didn't insult her for not knowing her Scottish history.

"Oh." She paused, "You understand that I never chose to marry him, right?" She wanted to be clear on that. She was already in way too deep as far as her attraction to him went, and she wanted him to understand that she'd been sucked into this plan without her permission; she wanted him to know her.

Connor looked at her with surprise, "Aye, lass, I ken. 'Twas the Campbell who chose you. He knows of your background, and he might think that you are connected to the Mackenzie tribe as well. 'Twould only be natural." He almost smiled.

"No, he thinks my name is Isabella." Mackenzie corrected his assumption.

"The man you are set to marry does no' know your given name?" his voice was incredulous.

115

"No, his sorcerers, my travelling companions, told me to go by my middle name. They said it was more common in this era."

"This
era?
"

Oops!
Connor had noticed her slip.

"Umm...this
area
. You know, the Highlands. Probably for the same reasons you thought." She could tell he didn't believe her, but she didn't really know what to tell him. What would he say if she told him she was not going to be born for over 200 years? He would probably lock her in the tower.

"What are you hiding from me, Mackenzie?"

She turned away from him and said, "Nothing."

A long arm caught her about her waist, "Doona lie to me, Mackenzie."

"Trust me when I say that it is 'need to know' only, and you don't need to know. In fact you probably wouldn't even want to know." Mackenzie was suddenly very sure of that fact. Connor seemed to only believe what he could see, and touch; like most people. She didn't think he'd even give the slightest credence to her fantastical story. Realistically, she wouldn't have either if their positions were reversed.

"You speak in riddles. Tell me plain, what are you keeping from me? Is it something to do with the Campbell?" His hands were gripping her upper arms painfully. "What do ken you of his plans?"

There was a fervent light in his eyes that had her cringing mentally at the thought of lying to him. So she thought of the best way to tell him as much as she could without revealing the main detail she was dancing around.

116

"As far as I know," Mackenzie spoke slowly, still gathering her thoughts, "The Campbell thinks that he has made a normal, typical marriage bargain with my father." Mackenzie had taken to calling him
the
Campbell as Connor did. She assumed that it must distinguish him as the chief. "He knows that I am the first female Stewart born since my ancestor who cursed the lands. He thinks that in marrying me, he will end the curse, if not in reality, then at least superstitiously.

All of the people will believe that the curse is broken, so therefore the lands will prosper. No longer would they be able to blame anything on the curse. He also hopes that it will make them follow him more willingly." She could tell that Connor was not only shocked that she was so well informed, but also that he hadn't known some of this. "You see, Connor," she laughed blackly without any humor, "The Campbell has something much darker planned than even you know. He has been dabbling in the black arts, and he plans to sacrifice me on our wedding night, in order to produce his heir through dark magic."

Connor swore through clenched teeth. "And your father agreed to marry you off to this swine? What manner of man would do that to his only daughter?"

She had to lie again, "Umm, I don't think he knew all of this. I only found out when I arrived here."

"And you agreed to this?"

"No! Hell no!" she insisted. "Well, not at first," Mackenzie qualified. "I didn't really have much choice in the matter.

Once it was all explained to me, I sort of agreed, tentatively, but only on the part where I am supposed to distract the 117

Campbell. By then his sorcerers are supposed to send me back before the wedding night."

"Send you back where?"

"Oh, uh, America?" It came out as a question.

"But what of the agreement with your father? The Campbell will na take losing you again so lightly."

"Oh, umm...I don't really know all of the details," she was a horrible liar, so she went back to half-truths, "Besides, they were kind of interrupted mid-way through by this really bossy Highlander who dragged me out of the carriage during their explanation." Mackenzie smiled a tiny smile, hoping Connor would take the teasing in stride, rather than getting angry. He did.

"Hmm...and would you be speakin' of me?"

"I would." Mackenzie grinned. She liked that the topic had shifted slightly away from the lies. "But seriously, Connor, I don't understand his note. It's like it's full of innuendos for you, and not me. Is he the reason those men tried to kill me last night?" She shuddered at that thought. "Is he telling you to back off? Or is he telling me he knows I'm going to side with you?"

"You talk too much." And Connor silenced her with his lips.

It was a very effective distraction. Mackenzie lost her train of thought, and could barely remember to breathe, let alone what she'd been asking him. His lips were warm and soft, and in such contrast with the solid strength of his body. She made a helpless sound in the back of her throat, and pressed herself closer to his strong body. She felt him tighten his hold on her, but was surprised at how gentle his fingers were on 118

her jaw, urging her lips to part. As his tongue stroked hers, stoking the fires he had awakened in her, she gave up on any rational thoughts and just concentrated on not burning to a cinder in the flames he had ignited. Once again, her whole body felt like it was pulsing with heat. When his hand found her breast, she moaned and her legs gave out from under her. If it hadn't been for Connor's strong arm around her, she surely would have melted into a puddle on the ground.

Wow
, she thought,
two minutes of kissing him and I'm a
puddle at his feet. This can't be healthy
. But she wanted more. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. She tugged at his shirt, lifting it just enough to put her hands on the small of his back. He inhaled sharply at her tentative touch, then yanked his shirt off in one swift motion. Next, he put his hands to her laces, but before he could pull them loose, he stiffened.

Mackenzie lifted her head and opened her dazed eyes.

"Wha-?"

"Get behind me lass." He breathed in her ear, and pulled her tight to his body so he was shielding her.
But from what?

Mackenzie couldn't see or hear anything. She tried to peek under his arm when he lifted his massive sword from the ground. What was going on? Then she heard a twig snap behind her and she froze.

Before she could blink, four men also with giant swords, jumped out from the surrounding trees. It all was so fast, but her eyes took in everything. Connor caught the closest man off guard and sliced his arm off. The sound and accompanying scream were hideous. The man floundered on the ground.

119

Next he fought against two men, all the while he never let go of Mackenzie. The last man looked for an opening to separate Mackenzie from Connor, who had just taken a rough blow to the kidney. One of the two brought his sword up to impale Connor from behind but Mackenzie darted out from Connor's hold, and kicked the man in his groin as hard as she could. She then took a kick boxer's stance and punched him in the nose with the heel of her hand, driving upward. She felt the cartilage break and was instantly queasy. Her heart was pounding in her ears so loudly that it drowned out the sound of his nose crunching. Mackenzie was intensely grateful that she hadn't heard that. Even as the man was still doubled over in pain from the groin kick, she snagged the humongous sword out of his hands, and barely able to lift it, she pressed the blade to his throat. Her back was to Connor, but she could hear noises that sounded like he was killing or mortally wounding the others. Not wanting to see which, she turned her attention back to her captive. He glared at her but spoke.

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