Highland Hellcat (2010) (15 page)

“I told ye that the mistress is new to being served.”

Both maids instantly lowered themselves and returned to the chore of dressing her. A fresh undergown was brought forward, but Brina did not extend her arms for it to be placed over her body. Instead she stared at the soft blue color of it.

“Blue will suit you well, mistress.” Maura spoke quickly while the woman waiting with the gown offered it once again.

“I believe something plain will serve.” Brina forced herself to say the words because she doubted that she would have the willpower to maintain her determination to return to the abbey if she allowed herself to wear pretty clothing. The bed would be hard enough to forget when she was once again sleeping on a narrow cot without any curtains to keep her nose from becoming cold. But Connor had burned her undyed gown, and only now did it cross her mind that she was left to wear only what he provided her.

“The laird didna have anything plain made. This gown is the simplest that was commissioned for his bride.” Maura took the gown and gathered it up through the neckline so that she might easily drop it over Brina’s head.

“I am sure that ye do nae wish to be late to Mass because ye were displeased with yer clothing.”

“No, of course nae.”

The blue undergown slid smoothly over her body in a single movement. Maura didn’t give her any time to contemplate the overrobe that was brought forward. It was a darker blue, which meant it had cost even more, because more dye would have been needed to deepen the color. There was also trim sewn onto it, and once the hem was fluttering about her ankles, one of the women laced it closed up her front. Unlike her plain robe, this garment was tailored to her figure. With each eyelet, the robe closed over her hips and waist, until finally even the curves of her breasts were seen clearly. It was very fashionable; something that either of her sisters would have enjoyed full well.

She had never worn anything like it. Her breasts felt strangely sensitive with the fabric of both robes so close to them. She looked down to see the curves clearly displayed by the garment.

“’Tis chilly enough for an arisaid, but I think ye should wait to begin wearing the Lindsey colors until ye have wed.”

One of the maids had already brought forward a length of Lindsey wool, but Maura sent her away with a flick of her fingers. She brought forth long lengths of ribbon that Brina looked at with confusion until she went behind her and began braiding her hair with the ribbons. She fashioned two braids instead of the single plain one that Brina was accustomed to.

“Yer boots need a fair bit of work to make them soft again.”

A pair of leather shoes were set out for her, and stockings dangled from the hands of one maid while another fetched a stool for Brina to sit on. When she lowered herself onto it, the blue fabric became too beautiful to resist. She fingered it, tracing along the line of trim while noticing the tiny stitches that held it in place.

“Here we are, a veil for Mass, and forgive me, mistress, but we had best make haste or we’ll be the last to arrive.”

“Of course, ye are very correct.”

The last piece of fabric was just a rectangle with the edges carefully rolled to keep it from unraveling. But it was a soft butternut color, and the weave so fine, if she held it over her eyes, she could still see through it. It didn’t smell like wool either but slipped through her fingers as smoothly as water.

“It is silk.”

Silk? Brina tripped over her own feet, drawing a frown from Maura.

“I’ll have the cobbler see ye as soon as we finish breaking our fast to shorten those shoes.”

The double doors were opened, and the sight of Connor’s retainers standing there distracted her from making any comment about wearing silk. Instead she felt her cheeks turn pink when they reached up and tugged on the corners of their knit bonnets. It wasn’t the respectful gesture that sent heat into her face, but the way their gazes began to twinkle, just a bit in approval of her appearance.

She had never been pretty.

An ache tore at her as she passed the retainers and began hurrying down the stone steps. Pain rose up inside her from a thousand times that she had wished to receive the same compliments her sisters had.

A nun had to learn to live without such praise.

And so she had.

As they descended to the main floor, there were more sounds of footsteps, all of them hurrying toward the open doors of the tower. Outside, she could see the small church built inside the castle yard. Every fortress had one, for to forget to build a house of God inside your walls was like asking to be overrun by raiders intent on pillaging.

The gate that led to the outer yard was raised as well, and people were streaming in to the church from all directions. The bell was ringing faster and louder in warning that the Mass was beginning. Brina hesitated at the doorway, feeling like a child caught with fruit on her hands left there after stealing a tart from the kitchen between meals. Her clothing felt wicked and disrespectful to the father who had promised her to the church.

But Maura gave her a push that sent her stumbling over the threshold and into the sanctuary.

It would seem that she was attending Mass in blue today.

***

Connor wasn’t at Mass.

Brina was disgusted with herself for noticing, but at the same time her curiosity rose to a level that had her sneaking peeks behind her throughout the service to see if he joined the congregation late.

He never did.

The priest gave the final blessing, and she faced the aisle, intending to wait her turn to exit, only to discover that everyone was waiting for her to leave before they did. The entire congregation strained to gain sight of her, stretching their necks and angling their heads so that they might look through any possible hole in the crowd at her. Parents lifted their children up high so that the little ones might peer at her also.

Brina was sure that her cheeks were going to catch fire.

The moment she looked at them, they all began to offer her respect. The men reached for the corners of their caps, while the women nodded their heads, because there was no room for true courtesies in the tight confines of the church.

She took one step and then another one, stumbling her way toward the door as whispers began to rise behind her.

“Bonny thing…”

“Is nae wearing Lindsey colors…”

“She has blue eyes…”

“A bit thin…”

There was a sharp snap, and the voices died instantly. Maura offered her no repentance when Brina turned to see who had wielded such authority over the castle inhabitants.

“Everyone is pleased to have the laird’s bride here.”

“Everyone except my father.”

Maura frowned, and her eyes even darkened. “I have faith that yer father and the laird will come to an agreement.”

There were many nods from those around them, proving that everyone was listening. Brina felt as though there were a stone sitting on top of her chest, making her struggle for every breath she drew. But a quick flick from the head of house’s hand and the congregation began to disperse, most of them going toward the open doors of the tower for a morning meal. Smoke was rising from the long buildings adjacent to the tower, telling her where the kitchens were. The scent of bread was already drifting on the morning breeze.

The priest caught her eyes, and she reached out to him. He took her hand and covered it with his opposite one.

“I will hear yer confession later today before ye come to take yer vows.”

Brina was horrified, pulling her hand free. “But surely ye cannae be in agreement with me doing anything but fulfilling my father’s promise that I become a bride of Christ?”

The priest tucked his hands into the wide sleeves of his robe. “The laird came to me early this morning, and I am well contented by his thoughts upon this very important matter. Yer father will send yer sister to the abbey. It is she who needs the stern hand of discipline to keep her from the path of damnation. I will marry ye.”

Her throat felt as though it were shrinking. She heard Maura muttering something beneath her breath before the woman grasped her hand and began to lead her back toward the open doors of the tower. Snow clung to the roof ledges and sat in large clumps on the ground where it had not been trampled by those going to Mass. A light dusting of it continued to float down while they watched.

“A warm meal will make ye feel sturdy and strong, mistress.”

Maura used the title, but Brina felt anything but in command of the woman. The head of house pulled her right up the steps and through the doorway of the tower, where the scent of warm food drew a growl from her belly. It was deep and long, betraying just how hungry she was.

But she froze in place at the entrance to the first floor of the tower where long trestle tables were hosting the inner castle’s inhabitants for their first meal of the day. At the far end of the common room was a raised platform that played host to a long head table.

That was the high table, the laird’s seat.

Connor sat there with several men who all wore two feathers upright on the sides of their bonnets. They stopped talking when she was sighted, and Connor looked up from a parchment he’d been reading along with Shawe.

She shivered as his gaze met hers. The reaction was instantaneous and beyond her ability to control. His gaze traveled along her revealed figure, and his lips twitched into a grin before he raised his attention back to her face. By that time she was nervously fingering the fabric of her gown as she tried to tell herself not to care about what his opinion was of her.

She shouldn’t care a bit…

“Please join me, my lady.”

He indicated the chair to his right, which was the only seat left vacant at the high table. The position proclaimed her as mistress of Birch Stone and his bride. The table was a formal one, set above the others to illustrate that those who ate there were considered of a higher station. Every man there had earned the right to sit beside their laird, and Connor had gained his seat by serving his clan. Even if she was bound to refuse him, she could not keep from admiring the dedication he had for his people.

She held the same respect for her father. At that moment she felt suspended between both men while they pulled her toward them, but in the doing of that, they threatened to rip her apart.

Brina shook her head. “I will be content at the lower tables, Laird Lindsey.”

Connor frowned, as did several of his captains.

“Yer place is here, Brina, beside me.”

He was using her Christian name deliberately. Only her father and siblings used her first name in public. Connor was making it clear that he felt he had the right to call her by such an intimate name, even in public.

Such was the right of a husband.

She shook her head to dispel the idea. “I disagree, Laird Lindsey.”

The hall quieted.

“Are ye saying that ye still refuse to wed me, Brina?”

He was irritated and possibly worse, for his face was flushed slightly and his eyes narrowed.

“I cannae do less than honor my father’s word.”

She could feel the weight of the stares of his captains and the women who served the hall. There was a loud scraping sound as he pushed his chair back, made more noticeable by the lack of other noise in the hall now that everyone was standing still, waiting to hear what would happen.

He moved down the steps that kept the high table elevated, but even when his feet were on even standing with her, she still had to raise her chin to maintain eye contact with him. For the moment he was every inch the Highlander laird. There was no hint of leniency in his expression, and he hooked his fingers around the wide leather belt that held his kilt in place while he braced his feet shoulder width apart.

“Yer father is nae here; I am.” His voice held a challenge now, one her pride eagerly rose to, because her honor was not something she would allow others to discard so simply.

“I should imagine that every father wearing yer colors would expect his grown daughter to heed his word, even when she is away from his sight.” Her voice was firm and even because she realized that she did not fear him. She should have, for the man was large and his arms cut with muscles that spoke clearly of his greater strength, but there was no fear that he would strike her for daring to voice her opinion. There was a ripple of whispers among those eating.

His eyes filled with his temper. “Then we have a battle between us, lady, and it is one I intend to claim victory from.”

A ripple of conversation went through those watching, but Connor reached out and captured her hand before she had the chance to answer him.

“Begin the meal without us.”

Connor tossed his words over his shoulder while he pulled her along with him. He took her down a hallway and into another room, where there were no curious eyes upon them. He released her hand when she tugged on it, and stood with his hands braced on his hips while he watched her from beneath hooded eyes.

“What do ye gain by refusing to kneel for the church’s blessing, Brina?”

His words were softly spoken, but when she looked at his face, she discovered that he was anything but calm. In his eyes, she could see his temper smoldering.

“I gain the knowledge that I am nae a disobedient daughter. Isna that what all children are expected to be? Do ye somehow think that women do no’ have honor?”

He snorted at her and began slowly to follow her across the room. “Sometimes adjustments must be made. Yer sister made it necessary for me to change my plans, but I see no reason why you and I cannae have an agreeable relationship. Yer father will adjust his thinking.”

Heat flickered in his eyes and drew another gasp from her lips. His gaze made her overly conscious of the way the blue gown molded to her figure. It was designed to make her pretty, but that was a woman’s word. To a man, she was attractive, and Connor’s expression left no doubt in her mind that he was being drawn to her.

Brina heard him growling softly with his frustration. The sound drew a short laugh from her.

“Are ye frustrated, then, sir? Good, for that is something that ye have ensured that I have a bellyful of.”

He considered her with something glittering in his eyes that looked like a promise. “I believe that is the first compliment ye have offered me, lass.”

“What are ye talking about?” She scoffed. “I insulted ye.”

“Aye, refusing to sit beside me was insulting, lass.”

He chuckled, the sound low and deep. Brina discovered herself fascinated by his change in mood. She had never pleased a man either.

“Now, admitting that I frustrate ye, that is praise, for it confirms that ye are drawn to me.”

“I said nothing of the sort, and furthermore, it is clear that we cannae even converse clearly, so ye should leave.”

Her face heated up, and she turned away from him without thinking about what she was doing. Brina stared at the stone wall for a moment before she recalled exactly what had happened the last time she presented Connor with her back.

The man didn’t deviate from his previous actions either.

She turned around, but much too late to avoid being pinned against the wall by his larger body. Yet he didn’t touch her but flattened one hand against the stone surface behind her, right next to her shoulder so that his outstretched arm caged her.

“Oh, but I disagree with ye again, for I believe we are doing a fine job of conversing.”

She leaned back away from him because it was becoming harder to focus on the point she wanted to make.

“You enjoying quarreling, Laird Lindsey? Is that what ye are telling me?”

His lips were set into a grin again. “Do ye nae recall my name, Brina?” He drew his words out in a lazy manner that teased her.

“Formality would be best between us.” She drew in a deep breath. “And distance.”

“Why does it matter where I stand?”

Brina blinked, trying to restore her clear thinking. “Because my thoughts become muddled when ye are so near.” She was talking without thinking again, and she pressed one hand on top of her lips to still her words when she witnessed how much her confession pleased him. His blue eyes sparkled with it.

His lips twitched up farther, and she discovered her attention focusing on his mouth. A tingle of memory traveled across her lips, awakening a yearning to feel his kiss against them once again. He reached out and gently pulled her hand away from her lips.

“I confess that ye have the same effect on me, lass.”

His voice was low and deep, coating her senses like honey.

“There… ye see? A fine reason for ye to stop coming so close to me. Neither of us can reason properly.” She went to move away from him through the one side that was not blocked by his arm, but he moved his right hand and cupped the side of her face, bringing her to a halt while she felt her heart begin to accelerate.

“Or it is a good reason for us to marry, so that we might enjoy what happens when we are close to one another and need do naught save follow our impulses.”

He didn’t allow her the opportunity to reply but tilted his head so that their lips might fit together. The kiss was tender. So soft and slow that she quivered. She felt his breath against her lips before the first connection of his flesh against hers. Her heart thumped beneath her breast with a rhythm that was far faster than it should have been while she was standing still.

That action sent blood rushing through her veins and past her ears, so that she heard little else. But her mind was focused on the warm touch of his lips on top of her own, and she shivered with delight as he pressed his mouth against hers. The hand cradling her cheek turned her gently, and their mouths fit together more completely. His thumb pulled her chin down, opening her mouth. The tip of his tongue swept along her lower lip before it began to tease her own. Just the tiniest flickering touches, but they sent sensation roaring through her like floodwaters. She was grateful for the support of the wall behind her when the quivering in her limbs threatened to rob her of the ability to stand. Temptation called to her, dangling a promise of more delight if she would simply surrender and return the kiss.

“Ye see, lass? We have passion between us, and that is a rare thing. One that should nae be discarded so simply,” he whispered against her ear before placing a soft kiss against the skin of her neck. It was the simplest of kisses, one she might have bestowed upon a child, but there was nothing innocent about it. Heat flowed down her body from it, and she heard her own tiny moan of rapture.

It was that sound that broke through her muddled thoughts. She felt as though she were in a stupor, intoxicated beyond the ability to think clearly.

“But that is exactly why I must tell ye no.” She lifted eyelids that felt heavy, and stared into his piercing blue eyes. “My sister followed passion, and it brought ruin.”

“Bugger me.” He cursed bluntly.

Brina felt her eyes widen before she laughed.

Connor looked at her as though she had gone mad, but she covered her mouth with one hand and tried to smother the giggles that rose from her chest. Connor snorted, his fingers curling against the stone wall he leaned against.

“I would have expected ye to become offended, no’ bloody entertained by my profanity.”

He was distracted, and she slipped past him in that moment, dancing nimbly across the chamber while he turned and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, it is just that it is the first time I’ve ever heard anyone use profanity. Besides, what ye said is quite impossible.” Her cheeks heated as she considered exactly what he had said. “Well, I mean to say that it would be impossible for me… to perform such an act upon you, because…”

He lifted one eyebrow. “Because ye do nae have a cock?”

She felt her eyes narrow because he was teasing her once more, and part of her didn’t care for the fact that he thought her so naive. “Ye are trying to shock me by saying that so plainly.”

He shrugged. “Since ye seem so determined to return to the life of a nun, should nae I speak honestly to ye?”

“There is a difference between honest and crude.”

“Ah…” He held up one finger, and his lips rose into a grin that was quite attractive on him. “But since ye were amused by the fact that I said… bugger me.”

“Ye do nae need to repeat it. I heard ye clearly the first time.”

His grin became a full smile that flashed his teeth at her. “Now, Brina, if ye are going laugh at the fact that I said… bugger me… why can I nae discuss the reason why it amuses ye?”

“I do nae want to discuss it.”

“Only laugh because ye do nae have a cock and could nae bugger me so I should choose better words to describe my frustration with ye?” His eyes flashed with hard intent. “But the truth is that when I kiss ye, you forget that ye have an objection to being buggered?”

She had to clear her throat before any words would pass through. “That is the most audacious thing anyone has ever said to me. Of course I have an objection to ye buggering me… Ohh… never mind that.” She let out an exasperated sound that gained her a chuckle from Connor. His face was flushing dark red as he laughed at her stumbling over the words that he’d ground out so easily.

She slapped the top of her skirts. “Oh, have done with ye. Connor Lindsey, ye gain too much enjoyment at my expense.”

He sobered, but there was still merriment sparkling in his eyes. “That’s a solid truth; one I’m looking forward to increasing tenfold.”

Tension began to wind its way through her once more, and she watched as he noticed. Brina forced her gaze to remain on his face, in spite of the fact that she was tempted to turn her back on him.

Such was a coward’s way of making everything his fault. Part of her very much wanted to be touched again and swept toward that place where she didn’t have to think but only feel.

Connor must have read the desire off her face, for he suddenly drew in a stiff breath. He took one step toward her but stopped and considered her from behind a pensive expression.

“Come here, lass. Come to me this time. I can see in yer eyes that ye want to.”

Brina fingered the fabric of her gown, torn so badly between what she knew she should do and what she wanted that her eyes burned with unshed tears.

“That would make me no better than my sister Deirdre.” He frowned, but she held up a hand to quiet him. “My father was most clear with all three of us as to what he expected. If I fail to honor his word, how could ye ever accept any promise I made to you?”

There was the soft compression of his leather boots against the stone floor while he closed the distance between them. He loomed over her again, but she didn’t fear the man, only her own lack of discipline.

“I would accept yer word, Brina, because I am the one who prevented ye from honoring yer father.”

“That does nae absolve me of my duty.” But it did send a tiny feeling of achievement through her, because he was not a man who trusted lightly. “And… well… I simply…”

He placed one fingertip against her lips to still them. His eyes flashed with a warning that sent a shiver down her spine, for it was the same look he’d had in his eyes when he had stolen her away from her father’s retainers. This was the Highlander in him, not the man who had just been teasing her so playfully.

“Ye honored yer father by riding out of his gates as he directed ye, lass. That is yer past, and I am yer future, even if it isna what was planned. Ye are here. Now kiss me, Brina, for I can see in yer eyes that ye long to.”

His hand slid around her face to cup her nape in a gentle hold that was still very solid. This time his kiss was harder, pressing her mouth until she allowed him to tease her tongue with his own. It was a bold invasion; one that shocked her but also sent sensation shooting through her body. Her nipples began to tingle and contract into hard points that pressed against her clothing. Connor closed the distance between them, his other arm wrapping around her body to bind her against him. She shuddered as her curves pressed against his hard form. There were too many points of contact to think about; instead she was overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of how good it felt to be held.

She wanted to be closer, her hands settling on his chest and smoothing up to rest on the tops of his wide shoulders. His tongue thrust deep into her mouth, and she stroked it with her own. She wanted to kiss him back and tried to mimic his actions, moving her lips in unison with his.

“Ye see, lass? We’ll wed and soon, for I swear that I will nae stay away from ye for much longer.”

The hand that had cradled her nape moved, sliding down her chest and right over the soft mound of her breast while his gaze held her captive. He didn’t stop until he was cupping her entire breast in his grip, the hard point of her nipple unmistakable behind the soft fabric of her robes.

“And ye will welcome me, Brina Chattan, make no mistake about that, for I swear that I plan to seduce ye. Ye can wed me a maiden or after I charm my way into yer bed; I do nae care which way.”

His tone was too smug. She snarled softly at the arrogance displayed on his face, and shoved him away from her with both hands planted firmly on top of his chest.

“Ye are a barbarian.”

He grinned but backed away from her. “I’m a Highlander, lass.”

“Well, so am I. That means I am no’ without self-discipline when it comes to my…”

“Yer passions?” he offered with another smug smirk.

She growled at him, slightly surprised to hear such a sound come from her own lips while someone else was there to witness it.

Connor laughed, but the tone was not kind. It was deep and packed with the promise of his doing exactly as he’d sworn to do.

Seduce her…

“Ye are a Highland lass, and that is exactly why I have no doubt that behind the wall of duty that yer father made ye build with yer honor is a lass who will kiss me back. As ye just did.”

Her hand rose without thought to cover her lips, but it wouldn’t be so simple to conceal the fact that he was speaking the truth. The sting of that knowledge burned its way through her mind. Her belly suddenly rumbled again, drawing a frown from Connor.

“Ye may eat at my side, or we’ll retire now and share a more personal meal, as a new couple would be expected to do.”

There was no hint of relenting in his tone. It was the laird talking now, his expression telling her how he had managed to command one of the largest clans in the Highlands. It was in the solid confidence he displayed and the fact that she didn’t doubt he meant every word completely.

“The table, or I’ll likely be hung at dusk for smashing yer skull in with a stone when I can no longer endure yer lurid suggestions.”