The Beast of Clan Kincaid (28 page)

Elspeth glanced to Conall and Ennis. Both of them nodded,
again
reaffirming their support of her choice.

Though her heart raced, and she took a measured breath, knowing how important it was that she make her announcement calmly, and with confidence.

“I intend to marry Niall.”

“
Niall
?” repeated the MacClaren, his voice like thunder.

Bridget's eyes widened with shock.

The room burst out in a jumble of questions and words.

Elspeth raised her hand. “
Be silent
. Hear my reasoning.”

All grew quiet.

She walked along the circle formed by the council, looking into each of the men's eyes as she passed. “You have all observed that Niall lives by a strict code of honor. There is no warrior more impressive, or more skilled than he. At the Cearcal, he inspired awe and amazement in all who gathered to watch the competitions. In the end, he was named champion by default because they could muster no more challengers willing to fight him.”

“But a mercenary? A man with no people—no loyalties. Could he ever be loyal to us?”

“No loyalties?” countered Elspeth. “That could not be further from the truth. He commands a force of more than a hundred skilled warriors who have sworn to follow him wherever he goes, and who at this very moment approach Inverhaven, awaiting his command to support us in our defense. By marriage to me, they would become our own.”

All around, eyes widened, and Conall added, “He inspires loyalty even among our own MacClaren men. They look to him as a leader.”

“Aye,” said a council member. “I have observed this to be true.”

Conall said. “Ennis and I agree with her choice.” He turned to the MacClaren. “But not only that my lord. In addition to his qualities as a leader … Niall saved Elspeth from Hugh, before her virtue could be had. He has saved her life not one time, but three. Seeing that she is agreeable, should not her hand in marriage, and an invitation to be welcomed into this clan be his reward? His rightful prize?”

Elspeth approached her father, going on her knees before him, and taking his hand in hers.

“Niall has no home. Let
this
be his home. He has no people. Let the MacClarens be his people. He has no sworn loyalties. Let him be loyal to us … to
me
 … I know he will make a good husband, father—and he would defend me and our home unto death.”

He looked at her steadily, his eyes shining. “Three days ago you could not even abide his presence.”

A smile spread on her lips. “I have changed my mind.”

He looked out at the room, over her head. “Who so agrees, that Niall should be given my daughter's hand in marriage?”

“Aye, I agree,” came the answer, all around.

“Aye.”

“
Aye
.”

“Does he know he is your choice?” the MacClaren asked.

She shook her head, her heart doubling with joy inside her chest. “He does not.”

To Conall, he said, “Go and get him. Bring him to me.”

*   *   *

“Niall, please come. The MacClaren and his council wish to speak with you.”

“And Deargh?”

“Nay, not yet,” Conall answered, with one raised hand. “Just you.”

Niall stood and turned to Deargh, scowling. In a low voice he said, “If he intends for me to deliver Elspeth to her betrothed, I will refuse.”

Deargh nodded, one eyebrow going up. “I understand why you would.”

When he entered the room, he was met by silence and stares.

“You summoned me,” he said.

“Aye, that I did, Niall,” answered the MacClaren, his gaze intent. “There are some changes of which the council and I wished to inform you.”

Changes. Yes—Elspeth would marry and soon be gone from here. Which is precisely what
must
occur. But why had they found it necessary to summon him? As a mercenary, he served his employer. Either they were going to ask him to escort her to her new husband—a task which he would soundly refuse. Or they were going to inform him they did not require his services anymore, which would not trouble him at all. He would almost prefer to separate himself from them before the final assault.

Each smile someone bestowed upon him, each kind word—had begun to feel smothering and strange.

“Go on,” he said.

The MacClaren leaned forward in his chair. “You may not be aware, but I have for some time been pressed by this council to name an heir to the chieftaincy.”

“I am aware.”

He nodded. “After much difficult thought, with consideration to outside challenges—namely, threats made by the Alwyn…”

“Yes.” Niall nodded.

“It has been decided that I will name Elspeth my
ceann-cinnidh.
”

Niall's stomach dropped like a stone. Such a decision would keep Elspeth here, rather than take her away. Not only that, but any aggression toward her father would be an attack against Elspeth as well.

Niall looked to Elspeth.

Her gaze met his steadily.

“Furthermore,” the laird continued, his voice husky. “Elspeth has chosen a husband. He is a man worthy of my support, and that of the entire council.”

Niall suffered a flare of jealousy, and regret. He did not want to hear the name, although he supposed they would tell him, and he would have to pretend as if he felt nothing.

“What does that have to do with me?” he asked.

“Everything, Niall.” The laird smiled. “Elspeth has chosen you.”

 

Chapter 20

The MacClaren's words echoed like cathedral bells inside his head. His blood went hot, and his skin warmed. He exhaled through his nose.

The laird stood, holding on to the chair for support. “Will you, Niall, agree to marry Elspeth, my eldest daughter, future chief of this clan, and in doing so, swear to defend her and these MacClaren lands, even unto death?”

Silence held the room.

“As if they were my very own,” he answered solemnly. “Aye, even unto death.”

“Very good. You must … consider yourself an orphan no more, but a son of this clan. I hope you have no opposition to being married tomorrow.”

He looked at Elspeth, feeling as if his soul were on fire, feeling both triumph and pain.

A wild, beautiful blush rose into her cheeks.

“None at all,” he answered.

The council members thronged around him then, offering support and congratulations, which he accepted with subdued thanks, before making his way to Elspeth, who had not moved from her place beside her father's chair. She looked up at him, her eyes warm and aglow.

She would not look at him like that if she realized the grave mistake she had made. She would know soon enough, and hate him more than she hated any Alwyn. More, even, than she hated Hugh.

“Elspeth,” he said, reaching out his hand, into which she placed her own, without hesitation.

Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss to the backs of her fingers.

“Until tomorrow then,” he said, his eyes burning into hers.

“Until tomorrow,” she answered.

Bridget came to stand beside Elspeth. “It looks as if I have a wedding to prepare for. And
quickly
.” She laughed. “At least it is not yet midnight. I must go and find the cook, who might otherwise complain at being awakened, but I know she will be more than pleased once she hears she will be preparing Elspeth's wedding day feast.”

She left them, making her way to the door.

“Tell her I am sorry,” Elspeth called after her.

“I will do no such thing,” Bridget replied over her shoulder, turning back. “I will cut cabbages and bake bread myself, to be certain we are ready and prepared.”

She disappeared into the corridor.

Conall appeared at Niall's side. “As for the two of you, I know neither of you had any sleep last night. I suggest we all get some now, myself included.”

The MacClaren rested a hand on his daughter's shoulder, and looked at Niall. “Your last night in bachelor's quarters. Tomorrow you take residence here in the castle.”

Again, Elspeth's cheeks flushed, and this time, everyone noticed and laughed.

Unsettled by their happiness, and knowing he would be the one to destroy it, Niall backed away. “Good night, then.”

He departed the room. Deargh waited for him in the entry hall, his expression curious.

“What has happened?” he questioned. “I heard shouting, but everyone seems very happy about something.”

“Come with me,” Niall answered. “I will tell you.”

When they were halfway across the bailey, Deargh blasted out with a curse. Seizing a hand over his mouth, he looked over his shoulder to be certain no one had overheard.

“You're going to
marry
her?”

“I am, indeed. With the blessing of her father and the council.”

“My god.” Deargh clenched a fist in the air. “I know you have come to care for her, and for that reason you did everything you could to send her away, but
nothing
could be better than this.”

They entered Niall's quarters, where a fire had been lit and a cold supper left for him.

He paced for a moment, before again turning to Deargh. “You must go now and see if the men have arrived in our absence. If they have, tell them they must be ready tomorrow.”

“I pray they have,” the warrior answered, excitement bright in his eyes.

At the door, he turned back and stared at Niall, with a strange look on his face.

“What is it?” asked Niall.

His expression grew solemn. “I know this is everything we wanted, but I also know this won't be easy for you.”

Niall knew he referred to Elspeth, and his feelings for her.

“My loyalties have not been swayed,” he replied calmly. “I am a Kincaid to my soul. Tomorrow, there will be no doubt of that.”

“At long last.” Deargh nodded and left.

Left alone, the silence rose up around him, along with the memory of his parents' faces. His brothers. His loyalty
had not
been swayed. He remained as devoted to his cause, as he had been every moment and every day since he was a twelve-year-old boy, looking down at hands stained with his father's blood. He felt such satisfaction, knowing at last he would have his revenge against the MacClaren and return his people to their home.

But …
Elspeth
.

He neared the fire, and shoved his hands into his hair.

He had never felt so tormented, so eaten alive.

Stripping naked, he bathed at the basin, washing the day's travel from his body and stood by the fire, allowing his skin to dry. He thought of her … wishing she was here with him tonight. Wishing he could hold her close, while he slept, so that he could experience that pleasure just
one
time, before everything good between them went to hell.

As if in a dream, the door sounded behind him. Turning, he saw her standing there with her back to the door, breathing fast, her eyes shining and bright, her hair and her body concealed by a cloak.

Every muscle in his body seized with a powerful awareness. Every inch of his skin came alive. She was his every fantasy and she had chosen
him
as her husband, above all the rest. His heart thundering in his chest, he strode toward her and seized her up, lifting her off her feet. He pressed her back against the door, kissing her deeply, claiming her.

Holding her there, suspended, he guided her legs around his waist. She gasped as he kissed her neck, and her hands came up into his hair. He unfastened her cloak and it fell behind her, whispering sensually against the wood.

She wore only a thin chemise, so thin he felt her warmth against his palms, and he could see the golden luminosity of her skin beneath. In a frenzy of pleasure, he kissed her breast through the linen, and her nipple … and her rib cage beneath.

“Ah!” She threw her head back in ecstasy.

His body still pressed against hers, he lowered the bar behind her, securing the door. He carried her to the bed, the silken fall of her hair sweeping over his shoulders as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed his face. He lay her back, and moved to crouch above her.

“You should have chosen someone else,” he said, in a low voice, peering down into her eyes.

“How could I?” she answered, her voice husky with emotion. Her gaze moved over his naked body. “When you are the best choice? My only choice.”

His sex reacted to her perusal, jerking against his thigh.

“You'll come to believe that I am a beast,” he said tightly.

She met his gaze. “I want that part of you too.”

She looked at him with such light in her eyes, certainly imagining that tonight would be the first of a thousand nights together, while he experienced a gravity of heart and jagged fear that it would be the last.

But if she was going to hate him tomorrow, he'd be damned if he would deny himself the pleasure of her body tonight. He was already half out of his mind with wanting her. With needing to be inside her.

“You are not frightened?” he asked.

“Not with you.”

“You're like a dream,” he said, staring down.

She raised up, and pressed her mouth to the side of his jaw. “You are my dream come true.”

He kissed her back, and gently worked her chemise off over her head. He had never been with a virgin. He had never made love to a woman who would be his wife. He looked on her bare skin with reverence, knowing he would forever remember this moment. Firelight painted her body with shadows and light, all curves and secret places. Her breasts mounded high atop her rib cage, their nipples tight and aroused.

The muscles of his shoulders flexed, as he caressed her skin, slowly, worshiping her body, memorizing her and bringing her pleasure. She shifted, and sighed, her gaze moving between his face and his hands as they touched her. When he lowered his head to kiss her breasts, her fingers speared through his hair, holding him tight. Mouth open, he licked and sucked her nipples until she writhed beneath him, feverishly whispering his name.