Wicked Highland Ways Read online

  The retainers who had so diligently been standing in the open doorway had to make way for a line of younger boys. They were carrying a tub, and following close behind them were a dozen bearing buckets of water.

  “Since ye cannot come below,” Annella declared sweetly, “I have brought a bath to ye.”

  Annella had blond hair and blue eyes. She looked like a fairy, delicate and petite. Her dress might have been made of wool, but it was some of the finest fabric Brenda had ever seen. It fit her perfectly too, with shoulder details someone had spent endless hours sewing for nothing more than decoration.

  The boys left without a single one of them forgetting to tug on the corner of his bonnet toward the lady. Annella had a sweet smile on her lips, but after the doors were closed, Brenda looked at her.

  “Found an excuse to see the woman all the castle is gossiping about?” Brenda asked pointedly.

  Annella fluttered her eyelashes, but Brenda propped her hand on her hip in response. Annella let out a peal of delicate laughter.

  “I suppose,” Annella said. “Being the daughter of a laird, ye know how to appear innocent.”

  “Cousin of the laird,” Brenda replied. “But ye are correct.”

  Annella came toward her. “Let me help ye disrobe before the water grows cold.”

  Brenda felt a little chill go down her back. Annella held her expression perfectly. The look on the girl’s face was serene and sweet, as though the girl didn’t have a single wit in her head.

  Brenda wasn’t deceived.

  So much attention to her clothing meant Annella had likely been given a very good education.

  Including instruction on how to appear the perfect model of obedience and submission while keeping her mind sharp.

  Whatever the girl wanted, Brenda decided it wasn’t worth her giving up the opportunity to bathe. Annella could have had the Sutherland retainers enforce her will on Brenda.

  Better to take the offering of something she wanted. Brenda wasn’t fool enough to think the earl’s daughter wouldn’t get her way. But Brenda was so tired of playing games.

  “Ye could just ask me what is on yer mind,” Brenda said. “Yer father’s men will make certain ye get whatever information ye are here for.”

  Annella froze. Her hands had been reaching for the tie on Brenda’s bodice. Brenda watched something flicker in the girl’s eyes.

  “Cormac sees through me as well,” Annella admitted at last. “It’s quite vexing.”

  Brenda was opening the front of her underdress. “Me cousin Symon was always able to unmask me as well. What do ye want to know?”

  “Are ye breeding?” Annella asked bluntly.

  Brenda froze.

  Annella offered her a delicate shrug. “Me brother made sure yer husband might visit ye, and the retainers outside the door stood as witness…”

  Brenda shouldn’t have been shocked. She turned away to hide her reaction because she just couldn’t help feeling exposed.

  Would she never learn?

  The world was full of those who saw her as a possession.

  Bothan wanted ye for yerself…

  He had, and now she’d become his curse.

  * * *

  “Chief Gunn, at last.” The Earl of Sutherland said his name as Bothan was shown into the man’s private rooms a week later.

  Bothan reached up and tugged on the corner of his bonnet, but that was as far as his manners went.

  The earl let out a little sound of approval. “Aye, ye’re no’ one for formalities, Chief Gunn. I imagine ye found the court near impossible to tolerate. Those nobles have an affection for frivolous pastimes.”

  “And plots,” Bothan answered. “It’s true I’ve had a belly full of schemes.”

  “Hmm.” The earl nodded. “Fair enough.”

  “I’d appreciate it greatly if ye’d get on with the matter of returning me wife to me,” Bothan said.

  “Hamell Campbell has made a claim for the Grant lass,” the earl responded. “One I agreed with and gave me word on.”

  Bothan tilted his head to one side. “That was before ye knew the King had sent her to England and another match.”

  “True.”

  “So there is no difficulty.” Bothan pressed his case. “There is new information to be considered by yer lordship.”

  “When dealing with the matter of land, there is always difficulty,” the earl cut back. “Ye’d be a fool to think otherwise.”

  “Brenda is no’ a bride to be stolen.” Bothan refused to back down. “The vows have been made and consummated.”

  “Aye.” The earl sat forward. “Me son made sure to make this a difficult situation for me. If I’d been home, ye’d have never gotten abovestairs to yer wife.”

  “Because ye prefer the Campbells to the Gunns?” Bothan demanded.

  “I’d be a fool to no’ see the strength in the Campbells,” the earl insisted.

  “And a bigger fool to not see they will keep taking more and more if ye spoil them,” Bothan said.

  The room was quiet for a long moment. The earl tried to stare Bothan down but failed.

  “I understand yer point, lad,” the earl said in a tired voice. “But the lass is no’ with child.”

  “I do nae care,” Bothan answered. “She is me wife.”

  “She will be married tomorrow morning to Hamell Campbell,” the earl said firmly. “Yer choice is to be in me dungeon or no’.”

  Biting back his retort was the hardest thing Bothan had ever done. He stood for a long moment before turning and leaving the room. He strode down the passageway until he was away from the Sutherland retainers.

  “Maddox?” Bothan asked softly for his man.

  “Aye. I know what to do,” his captain answered.

  Bothan stood still on the steps that lead up to the great hall of the Sutherland stronghold. For all its grandeur, he noticed only the stench of evil clinging to the castle. Strangled dreams and the blood of innocents had given rise to the huge fortification.

  He wanted nothing more than to return to his towers.

  With Brenda…

  She might not have ye…

  Bothan couldn’t hide from his own doubts. He’d failed to protect her. It was something he could not forgive. But he’d free her from Sutherland and the Campbells because it was his duty. If she rejected him afterward, he had no one to blame but himself.

  And he’d have the rest of his life to mourn her loss.

  * * *

  Someone rapped on the outer doors of the chamber. Brenda turned around, but the two men who had positioned themselves outside were already opening the doors.

  The Earl of Sutherland was there, and his men were reaching up to tug on the corners of their caps as the man passed through the doorway. A maid brought in a tray with two goblets on it.

  “Close the doors, lads,” the earl said. “I’m no’ so old yet that I do nae welcome any lass who looks like she might be trying her hand at smothering me in the bedding! If ye hear the bed ropes groaning, do an old man a favor and leave me to me fate!”

  The Sutherland retainers chuckled before they both looked toward her. One of them boldly winked at her before pulling one side of the door shut as his companion closed the other side. The earl was looking at her, both his hands on the top of his walking cane.

  “Have some wine, lass.” The earl took up one of the goblets. “’Tis time to be done with the business between us.”

  Brenda picked up the goblet out of habit. Years of being instructed in hospitality left her raising it to her lips and drinking down some of the fine French wine without hesitation because the earl was doing the same.

  “To die in the bed of a redhead,” the earl spoke firmly. “Now there is a fitting end for a Highlander.”

  Brenda propped her hand on her hip. “I
had no more control over the color of me hair than ye did, sir.”

  The earl let out a bark of amusement. There was a scuff against the floor as he began to tap at the floor with his walking stick. Age had taken his speed, but there was still an air of authority about him even if it did take him time to compose his thoughts. Brenda took a few more sips of the wine as she waited.

  “Come and sit here beside me, lass,” the earl said after he sat down and put his own goblet aside.

  Brenda offered him a courtesy before she took the seat facing him. His eyes were just as blue as his son’s. Behind the wrinkled skin and gray eyelashes, she caught sight of a twinkle still alive and well in his eyes. She put her half-empty goblet down.

  And his gaze was still keen. Brenda sat still as the man took her measure.

  “Ye are no lass,” the earl said after contemplating her. “And yet ye’re still young. Yer years have been hard ones. I see the evidence in yer eyes. Ye’re no stranger to bitterness.”

  “They’ve taught me a great deal,” Brenda answered.

  The earl nodded, but it wasn’t really praise. No, Brenda detected a hint of commiseration in his gaze.

  Which chilled her blood.

  “Ye’re woman enough to understand I cannae give ye to Chief Gunn now that I know ye do nae carry his babe.”

  Brenda felt her heart stop. The sense of unease that had hit her when she’d started to bleed at the beginning of the week blossomed into full dread. Fate was once again proving to be her enemy.

  “He is me husband,” she informed the earl. “Issue is not a requirement of marriage.”

  “Aye,” Sutherland agreed. “But this is no’ a matter of one couple, and ye know it well. Being the daughter of a son of a laird, ye know well yer marriage bed would no’ be made to suit yer heart.”

  She did.

  Christ in heaven, why is fate so determined to cut ye with sharp edges?

  The chair became unbearable. She stood, pacing away from the earl, but the chamber’s window offered her a view of how high up they were.

  Ye mean how impossible escape is…

  “If I give ye to the Gunns, the Campbells will ride against them.” The earl voiced what Brenda knew too well. “The King will not concern himself with Highland feuds, and even if he did, the blood spilled would be long dried by the time any royal decree was handed down.”

  Brenda stared out the window, willing her mind to offer up some solution.

  “The Gunns are fearless, but they are outnumbered,” the earl continued.

  “Because Campbells are allowed to accumulate wealth no matter if they do so through criminal means.” Brenda turned and voiced her frustration. “Are ye offering to say naught over me plight because ye hope they will be sated and no’ notice yer own daughter is ripe for harvesting?”

  The earl grunted. “Ye’re a daring lass. More than one would say too much so, to be threatening me own family.”

  “Perhaps,” Brenda agreed. “Behaving and minding me place gained me naught but grief. I’ll take me chances with courage now. At least I might like meself, even if no one else does.”

  The earl smiled at her. There was genuine approval in his expression. But he stamped his walking cane against the floor. “Discretion is the greater part of valor, lass. Do ye really care to end up like some hero in a tale where the man fought for what was right and yet ended up dead in the last battle? Do ye wish to remember him for the rest of yer days?”

  “I do nae care to see Bothan dead, no,” she agreed.

  The earl nodded. “Nor do I, and before ye ask, I’ve no love for the Campbells’ greed either, but ye are what I called ye, a woman.” His expression tightened. “Annella is me only daughter. I too need to consider long and hard before angering the Campbells.”

  “Feed a wolf once, and it will be back for more,” Brenda argued. “I would be Hamell’s fifth wife.”

  The earl nodded. “Aye, and he’ll have to let ye live or risk having the Church look into his dealings.”

  Brenda’s chest was tight. Men were calculating beasts through and through. “And ye take comfort in that idea? Forgive me if I do not.”

  The earl lifted his walking stick and pointed it at her. “As I noted, ye have bitterness in yer eyes.” He pressed his lips into a hard line. “Hamell will keep ye alive, and ye’re wise enough to know such a thing will no’ be a blessing.”

  Brenda faced him straight on. “And yet ye will give yer blessing to the union, even keep Bothan from riding after me?”

  The earl took a long moment to consider her words before he nodded a single time.

  She felt like thunder had cracked the sky open above her. The moment was so final. So very inescapable.

  There was a scuffing sound as the earl moved toward her. He cupped her shoulder, pushing gently on it.

  “Sit before ye fall,” the earl encouraged her softly.

  Allowing her knees to fold was more of a relief than a concession. Brenda dropped onto one of the huge chairs in the receiving chamber. Her strength felt like it was flowing from her, draining away in the face of reality.

  She jerked as she realized the truth and fought to keep her drooping eyelids open. The earl only watched her with sympathy in his eyes.

  “Better to drug ye,” he said without a hint of remorse in his tone. “Otherwise, I would have had to post me men in here tonight to ensure ye did no’ decide to escape by killing yerself.”

  He stood and contemplated her. “Ye’ll be wed to Hamell Campbell in the morning.”

  She wanted to protest, felt like a scream was lodged in her chest but the ability to push it into the world was beyond her. Instead, Brenda watched as the Earl of Sutherland turned and left her to the fate he’d pronounced.

  Cursed…

  Aye, she was cursed.

  * * *

  Cormac Sutherland was waiting for Bothan in the stables. The heir to the earldom of Sutherland seemed very much at ease in the humble surroundings.

  “Yer wife is no’ carrying yer babe,” Cormac stated bluntly.

  Bothan gave the horse he’d ridden for the better part of two days a firm pat. The animal tossed its head, making it clear it wanted to rest.

  “There are a great many people in the Highlands who covet yer position as the earl’s son,” Bothan replied. “It’s the truth I am no’ one of them.”

  Cormac let out a bark of amusement. “If ye are speaking of the fact that I can hardly take a piss without someone knowing the color of it…aye, there are parts of being the earl’s son that are no’ very pleasant.”

  “Such as being sent here to talk sense into me?” Bothan boldly addressed the topic he knew Cormac was trying to ease into.

  Cormac nodded, just a single, curt motion of his head. “My father values ye, Bothan, or he would no’ care if ye ended up dragged away to the dungeon for raging at him.”

  “Brenda is me wife,” Bothan stated clearly. “If yer father is so aware of the worth I have, go tell him to let me take her away now.”

  “If it were me, I’d let ye,” Cormac said. “But allowing ye into her chamber while my father was gone was the best I might do for ye. He is the earl and me father. There was a time ye were bound to follow a Gunn chief ye did no’ agree with.”

  “But me word had been given.” Bothan acknowledged the point.

  “Fealty is no’ a matter of the moment,” Cormac added. “Once ye kneel and pledge yerself to a laird, no man can pick and choose what orders to heed.”

  Cormac patted Bothan on the shoulder as he passed him on the way back to the castle. Torches were lit to illuminate the yard, but it was quiet as the inhabitants settled in for the night. Somewhere, there was a breathless whisper as a pair of lovers found a dark shadow to steal away to.

  “Chief?” Maddox asked softly beside him.

  Bothan turned h
is head. His men were bone-weary. He’d pushed them hard, but they were still on their feet, not a single one seeking out a spot to sleep in while they waited on his word.

  Aye, fealty wasn’t something a man could choose the timing of.

  And Bothan couldn’t blame the Sutherland retainers who would do their duty in the morning.

  “Rest,” Bothan told his men. “Ye’ve earned it and more. I’m proud to be called yer chief.”

  They enjoyed his praise, all of them reaching up to tug on the corners of their caps before they headed toward a few vacant stalls and began unbuckling their plaids. Somewhere, in one of the towers of the castle, Cormac had a bed waiting for him. The staff would have made sure it was turned down and the fire in his chambers lit.

  Bothan was proud to ride with men who were simple and strong enough to face the trials of the Highlands.

  “Ye’re no good to Brenda half dead from lack of sleep,” Maddox said when Bothan didn’t join his men.

  Bothan nodded. “I’m going to see the priest before I sleep.”

  Bothan knew Maddox watched him go. Sutherland Castle had its own chapel. One with a priest. Bothan headed across the yard toward it. Maddox likely shook his head, but Bothan didn’t care. Nothing mattered but freeing Brenda.

  If she rejected him afterward, well, he’d still consider his duty toward her fulfilled.

  * * *

  “I am no’ wearing that dress,” Brenda declared.

  The maids in the room looked between her and the Head of House, who was attempting to oversee dressing Brenda for her wedding.

  Annella sighed from where she was watching in the corner. Brenda snapped her head around to send the girl a glare, only to find the earl’s daughter smiling at her.

  “Good,” Annella said. “I was hoping ye’d maintain yer dignity.”

  “If ye mean I refuse to be dressed like a dessert for Hamell Campbell, then aye,” Brenda declared.

  She sat down and pulled on her stockings. The ones she’d arrived in were clean and serviceable.

  “Perhaps ye might consider accepting an overdress?” Annella gestured to one of the maids. “Since ye arrived without one, I had another brought up.”

  Brenda was working the lace through the eyelets on the front of her underdress. The maid held up a sturdy-looking wool overdress. It was cranberry in color and likely something she’d enjoy having on the road.