My Highland Lover (12 page)

His gaze fixed on her mouth, the tip of his tongue raced across his bottom lip as though anxious for the taste of her. Trulie wet her own lips. What would she do if he tried to kiss her?
Kiss him back, fool.
Trulie blinked, swallowed hard, and waited.
Yeah. That was a dumb question.

With the barest flicker of a smile, Gray dipped his head, took a step back, and proffered his arm. “Come, m’lady. ’Twould be my pleasure to show ye MacKenna keep now that ye can fully enjoy it with yer eyes.”

Well, dammit.
Trulie hooked her hand into the crook of his elbow and turned toward the bridge. The chilling height of the structure spanning the ravine could no longer be blamed for the tingling dizziness pinging across her senses. Fear of heights was nothing compared to this subtle emotional dance with a heart-stopping Highlander.

The busy community housed inside the protective skirting walls of the MacKenna holdings filled Trulie with amazement. The fortress was a small village. To the left, a split rail fence hemmed in a training paddock connected to a stable. Two young boys, looking to be in their teens, led a skittish horse in a circle under the watchful eye of a barrel-chested man in a tattered kilt leaning against the fence.

Against the farthest wall to the right, a frowning smithy, covered in sweat and grime, held a glowing horseshoe with long-handled tongs against the curve of his blackened angle. Sparks showered from the red-hot metal as the iron sang out with every strike of his hammer.

Wariness pulled her closer to Gray as a cluster of women weaving baskets openly gawked at her with curious stares. Trulie lowered her free hand, relaxing a bit when Karma pushed his wet nose into her palm, reassuring her that he was still near.

Stone dragons, bleached an aged gray, flanked either side of the wide stone steps leading up to the main entrance of the keep. Gray led her up the steps and through the huge oak double doors leading to the main hall. Trulie paused, taking in the grandeur of the massive room.

Banners of plaid framed crossed broadswords and the clan crest hanging behind the raised stone dais holding the chieftain’s chair. Long wooden tables and their benches had been pushed back against the walls while a pair of serving maids swept aside soil and discarded scraps even the hounds had refused. Grimy-cheeked lads scurried about the room replacing spent torches with those freshly pitched.

Trulie glanced up at the ornate gallery bordering the second floor of the room. The MacKenna colors hung from the dark stained-wood banisters running along the balcony. The high ceilings caught her attention. She’d never seen such masonry. The weathered stones arched overhead created a breathtaking mosaic of cobbled stones framed with ancient timbers darkened from years of smoke.

Gray motioned to a young man hoisting a log into the massive hearth taking up one side of the long room. “Bread and cheese, lad. In m’solar.” Gray nodded toward Karma. “And a fine meaty knuckle for Mistress Trulie’s fine lad.”

“Aye, MacKenna.” The boy bobbed his head and took off through an arch at a quick trot.

“I thought ’twould be best if we had a bit to eat before meeting with me stepmother and Fearghal.” With a slight bow, Gray motioned Trulie toward a narrow alcove between two tapestries hanging on the wall. One depicted a gnarled tree of Celtic knots filled with all manner of birds. The other tapestry was a scene of a successful hunt.

Before Trulie could respond, shouting and the squeals of an angry horse rang out from the courtyard. Karma pressed up against Trulie, lowered his head and growled.

“What the hell—”

Gray bounded for the door, coming to a halt as a scrawny wild-eyed man shot into the narrow entryway walled off from the main room. Colum followed on his heels, teeth bared in an angry snarl. “This feckin’ idiot grabbed Cythraul’s reins. Put him on the demon’s back, m’chieftain. Let mighty Cythraul teach the stupid arse a thing or two.”

Waves of loathing barraged Trulie’s senses as the sniveling man jerked what could only be an obscene gesture at Colum. She blinked and focused harder on the man. She couldn’t tell if she was picking up his emotions or if Colum’s quite palpable hatred was fouling up her reading.

Karma lowered his head with a deep growl rumbling in his throat. Trulie patted him and took a step closer. “It’s okay, Karma,” she whispered. “I’ve got to get closer and get a better read.” She opened her senses to the unpleasant man and forced herself not to recoil. She’d never encountered such pure, unadulterated hatred centered in one person.

“Yer drunk, Fearghal. Ye reek of it.” Gray moved to the door and glared outside.

The ruckus in the courtyard appeared to be dying down. All Trulie could hear now was the previous level of activity of the busy grounds.

“Yer lucky Cythraul spared yer arse. I doubt verra much if yer mother wouldha been pleased to find ye stomped to death in the bailey.” Gray motioned Colum out of the room, clapping a hand on the man’s shoulder as he stomped his way out the door.

“I tire of bein’ treated like I’m the bastard son.” Fearghal narrowed his red-rimmed eyes at Gray, his scowl deepening as he crossed his arms over his narrow chest.

“Fearghal!”

A warning tingled across the back of Trulie’s neck. She turned and forced herself not to retreat from the waves of negativity emanating from the unpleasant woman. This had to be the infamous Aileas.

The scowling matron stomped forward, her heavy black skirts sweeping aside the dried rushes scattered across the floor. She jerked a meaty hand toward a narrow archway to the left of the hall. “Not another word from ye. Hie to yer room.”

A range of emotions flashed across Fearghal’s face, twisting his sneering scowl into several variations before he finally turned and staggered from the room. He paused when he reached the doorway, turned and opened his mouth.

“I said no’ another word!” Aileas fisted both hands and stomped forward a few steps as though coming after him.

Fearghal’s eyes widened. His mouth snapped firmly shut and he hurriedly staggered out of sight.

Aileas spun and fixed her scowl on Trulie. “So yer sight’s returned.” Aileas didn’t say it like a question. She said it with the irritation of a child who’d just gotten a lump of coal from Santa.

Trulie lifted her chin and took a step forward. If Aileas wanted a fight, so be it. “Yes. My eyes are fully healed. Now, I’m able to enjoy all the beauty of MacKenna keep.” Trulie swept a meaningful glance up and down Aileas, then glanced toward the hallway where Fearghal had disappeared. “And the not so beautiful,” she added for good measure. Might as well lay out the ground rules right now. She wasn’t taking any crap from Aileas.

Gray’s soft chuckle close behind her sent a warm ripple through her. Good. It pleased her to know Gray agreed.

Aileas stood taller, clenching her hands in front of her thick waist. She lifted her chin and took a step forward. Her narrow-eyed glare slid to Gray, then returned to Trulie. “Ye’ll find a great deal of unpleasantness in this hall. Ye would do well to make yer visit brief.”

Gray stepped around Trulie and stood in front of her like a shield. “Dare ye threaten m’guest?”

Aileas’s mouth tightened as though she were straining to keep from spouting the wrong words. Finally, she jerked her head from side to side. “Nay, m’chieftain. No’ a threat. Just a warnin’. Ye know yerself the unknown evil loose within this place.”

Trulie rested a hand on Gray’s tensed forearm as she eased out from behind him and stood at his side. “Thank you for the warning, Lady Aileas.” Trulie laced her fingers together atop Gray’s arm and fixed the arrogant woman with a glaring look she’d have no danger of misinterpreting. “It’s noted.” Then she turned her warmest smile on Gray. “I’m hungry. Didn’t you promise me a snack of bread and cheese in the solar?”

“Aye. That I did.” Without another word to Aileas, Gray hugged Trulie’s arm to his side and turned them toward the stair.

“Ye vile bastard. I’ll have ye skinned!”

Trulie whirled back around just in time to catch Karma lowering his leg and calmly trotting away from Lady Aileas. The dark streak of wetness splattering up the back of her wool skirts attested to the precision of his aim. Trulie tensed to keep from giggling as she snapped her fingers and called him to her side. “Karma! Shame on you.”

“Leave the lad alone, lass,” Gray whispered against her cheek. Then he raised his voice and shouted to the boy bearing a platter of food from the kitchen. “Hie back to the kitchen, Rabbie. Master Karma warrants Cook’s best meats.”

Aileas exploded with an enraged roar and stormed from the room.

Gray gave her a look that warmed her heart as he curled her arm back into his. “ ’Tis a verra fine dog, indeed. Now, mistress. On to the meal I promised ye.”

Trulie held tight to Gray as they wound their way up the spiraling stairs. The stone steps were steep and narrow. One misplaced step and a nasty fall would follow. Trulie breathed easier when they reached the much wider landing. “I guess it was rude of me to poke the bear. I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t cause you any problems.”

Gray pushed open the wide oak door and waited for Trulie to enter the room. “Poke the bear?”

Crap. Keep the words in this century.
“I shouldn’t have been rude to Aileas. I’m sorry.” She wasn’t really sorry she’d picked at Aileas, but she didn’t want to make matters any worse for Gray.

Rabbie and Karma scurried into the room around them. The young boy balanced the edge of the tray on the small round table centered in front of the hearth. He transferred plates of cheeses, meats, and breads to the table, and plunked a heavy pitcher into the midst of the food. “Here, lad.” He pulled two huge, meaty bones from the woven sack hung across his chest and set them on the floor in front of Karma. Karma wasted no time in settling down to gnawing the meat from the bones.

Gray led Trulie to one of the chairs at the table and held it for her as she sat. “I didna notice yer bein’ rude. I’m sure ye are quite mistaken.” He filled a metal goblet with a ruby liquid and offered it with a knowing smile.

“Thank you.” Trulie took the cup, her fingers gently touching Gray’s for a long, breathless moment. Was the tapestry-covered room spinning or was it her imagination?

“Yer most welcome.” Gray politely nodded, then took his seat.

Trulie gladly sipped the cool wine. The comfortable room, suitably furnished with cushioned benches scattered about the sprawling space, was overly warm and it had nothing to do with the fire in the hearth. She drained the glass.

Gray gallantly refilled it.

Cracking bones and a contented grumbling broke the silence. Gray chuckled as he turned and nodded at the dog. “Set well into the bones, lad. Ye earned them.”

“I can’t believe he peed on her.” Trulie pinched free a crumbling nugget of cheese and popped it in her mouth. Creamy and tart. Perfect with the wine and hopefully it would help her with the effects of the alcohol. “I promise he’s never done that before.” She pulled in another deep drink of the fruity liquid.
This stuff is good.
She eyed the ruby liquid. Surely it couldn’t be that strong. She should be okay.

Gray topped off her glass again. “The lad only did what the rest of us have wanted to do for ages.”

Trulie giggled and struggled to keep from snorting out loud with laughter. The mental image of Gray and Colum peeing on Aileas was almost more than she could bear. “Well, I’m sure Karma doesn’t mind your living vicariously through him.” She returned her empty cup to the table.

“Yer glass is empty. Allow me to fill it.” Gray smiled and nodded toward her cup.

Trulie wrinkled her nose and studied the seemingly bottomless pitcher of wine. She had no tolerance for alcohol and already had quite the buzzy feeling going on. She wasn’t sure if it was solely from wine on an almost empty stomach, or whether the lovely privacy of Gray’s solar contributed. All she knew for certain was she liked it.
Why not?
She held out her cup. “Maybe just a little bit more.”

Gray nodded. “Aye. A wee bit more.” The lovely burgundy liquid gurgled into her cup.

Trulie took another deep sip, watching Gray over the rim.
Damn, I love the way you talk.

One of his dark brows arched higher and Gray’s lopsided smile widened.

Shit. Did I say that out loud?
Trulie set the cup in the center of the table. “I think I’ve had enough.” She blinked as she stood and bumped into the table. Damn. The nice buzzy feeling was screwing with her balance.

“Easy now, lass.” Gray snugged a hand about her waist and steadied her against his side.

“This is so embarrassing.” Trulie rubbed the tip of her nose.
Oh shit. Numb itchy nose.
She’d discovered the hard way back in Kentucky. When the nose got all numb and itchy, it was time to lie down until the alcohol wore off. Trulie blinked again. “How far is my room from here? I really need to rest for a bit.” The longer she stared up at Gray, the more she teetered to one side.

“I dinna think ye can make it that far.” Gray turned her slowly toward a wide bench lined with pillows.

Trulie stumbled, clutched at Gray’s arm, then took a deep breath and blinked again. “I am so sorry. I can’t believe a few cups of wine…” Her voice trailed off as she swerved off balance and landed hard against his chest.

Gray didn’t speak, just held her steady up against him, his gaze centered on her mouth.

Trulie slowly licked her lips, then swallowed hard. She needed to lie down all right. With him. “Uhm…”

Gray swept her up, carried her to the bench, then gently lowered her into the pillows. He knelt at her side for the longest time, still staring down at her mouth. Finally, he slowly rose, pulled a plaid from the back of the bench, and spread it across her. “Rest well, lass. I’ll leave ye to yer dreams.”

Before she realized what he was doing, Gray had left the room and closed the door softly behind him. Trulie stared at the door for a long moment, then huffed out an irritated, “Shit.” She dropped one foot to the floor to stop its spinning and covered her eyes with one arm. Just her luck. She’d gotten lit with a sexy Highlander and he’d turned out to be a damn gentleman.

“Yer certain ye dinna wish to ride in the wagon?” Gray watched the wagon rattle its way up the hillside and disappear into the trees, then turned back to Trulie. “ ’Tis no’ more than a wee stretch of the legs for myself. But for ye…” Gray’s voice trailed off. The high color on the lass’s cheeks only enhanced her beauty, but ’twas verra clear she was a bit under the weather and most definitely out of breath. Gray turned aside and rubbed the back of his hand across his mouth to hide his smile. The poor woman might no’ be feelin’ so well after yesterday’s wine.

Trulie huffed to a stop. “The only reason I’m so out of breath is because this hill is a lot steeper than it looks.” She leaned to one side and pressed a hand against her ribcage. “And my legs are a lot shorter than yours. I take four steps to one of yours.”