How to Handle a Highlander Read online

  Ye noticed that before, which is another thing ye should nae have done…

  For just a moment, she allowed her gaze to rest on Gahan. He was several rows closer to the altar, so it wouldn’t matter. Just a fleeting indulgence before she had to devote herself to duty.

  ***

  The hall was bustling with people. The scent of hot porridge drew them once their souls had been cleansed for the day. The tables filled as maids delivered pitchers of fresh milk. On the high table there was also cream and dried fruit, but Moira sat at a lower table. She cupped her bowl to warm her hands and studied the contents of her morning meal.

  Simple oats and barley, but it was hot, and that pleased her the most. After a long winter, it was easy to long for richer food, but the rules of Lent were strict. The high table certainly didn’t suffer from a lack of tempting items to make the morning fare more palatable. It was a delicate balance between Church and laird. No laird wanted the Church outraged with him, but no priest wanted the laird irate with him. Still, Achaius poured a generous amount of cream into his bowl, then reached for the dried fruit.

  “At least yer sister knows her place.”

  The hall quieted as Laird Matheson spoke. Moira looked up to find him staring at her. Bari was seated beside him at the high table. Gahan was there as well, but he’d sat at the end of the table, more than an arm’s reach from the other two men. His mistrust of them was clear, and he didn’t seem to care who knew it.

  “She is honored by yer offer to wed her,” Bari said.

  Achaius laughed. He pounded the table and coughed several times. “Ye are a liar, Bari Fraser.”

  Moira slapped her hand over her mouth to keep her amusement from showing. Bari turned red.

  “I am nae!”

  Achaius was unimpressed with Bari’s sputtering. The Matheson laird reached for his mug and took a long swig from it, then wiped his mouth across his sleeve.

  “Then ye are a blind man. The lass is horrified, even if she has voiced no complaint. As I noted, she knows her place. A fine trait in a wife.”

  Moira fought the urge to look away from the high table. It felt like everyone was staring at her, and the hall had fallen as silent as the sanctuary during Mass. But she had to look him in the eye or fail completely. There would be no peace if he believed her discontent.

  “She’ll do her duty,” Bari said.

  “Aye, I believe ye on that account.” Achaius put a spoonful of porridge into his mouth and swallowed. “Otherwise, I think she would have been much more welcoming to the good earl’s son last night when he followed her down the hallway and tried to suggest she run away with him.”

  Her jaw dropped open, and the hall was stunned into silence for a moment that felt like an hour.

  “Ye son of a whore!” Bari shouted. He was out of his chair in a flash, but he froze because Gahan had also risen, his expression deadly as he faced off with Bari.

  “Keep the sharp side of yer tongue off me mother,” Gahan warned softly. His tone was far more ominous than Bari’s shouting. “Or I’ll show ye what happens to men who insult me family.”

  “Ye seem to nae understand where yer hands do nae belong,” Bari growled. “Ye need to leave.”

  “Sit down, ye whelp. This is my land and my tower. Ye do nae throw anyone out, especially me overlord’s son. I know me place.” Achaius’s retainers instantly stepped to attention behind their laird. Bari returned to his chair.

  “Yer sister did a fair job of dealing with the situation, and I found it interesting.”

  Achaius surprised both men. They watched him consume another spoonful of his breakfast, and then a second before Bari lost control.

  “What do ye mean by that?”

  Achaius turned his head and stared at him. A moment later he pounded his fist on the table, shaking everything on it.

  “Are ye me king? Me priest? There are few men I’ll stomach that tone from.”

  “I am yer fellow laird,” Bari insisted.

  “Blah!” Achaius pointed his spoon at Bari. “I should demand more dowry for that piss-poor reasoning. She’s nae that pretty, and a virgin as well.”

  “Of course she’s a virgin.”

  “Well now, lad, once ye’ve had as many maidens as I have, it tends to lose its appeal in favor of a woman who knows how to please. Half me retainers think she’ll cry tonight. I’m looking for a warm welcome in me bed.”

  Achaius went back to eating, and Bari did too.

  Speaking as he was, up at the high table, it was almost possible to believe they weren’t discussing her. She had as much meaning to them as a mare. The unease that had kept her awake left her with a knot in her belly. It was as if she were disconnected from the moment; not really a part of it, and that made it possible to simply dismiss it as insignificant.

  She would not cry. There were plenty of things she could not control, but she would master her emotions. Besides, she would not be wasting any tears on a situation in which she had so little worth. Her groom and her brother seemed content to discuss her wedding without her. Well, she’d offer them the same callous disregard. Their plans mattered little to her, and she would repeat that idea over and over until she believed it. Tears were for things she cared about.

  She realized that Gahan Sutherland was watching her. His dark eyes were aimed directly at her as he ignored the conversation. Heat stung her cheeks, and she looked away because she realized she was blushing—again.

  ***

  Achaius sat in his private solar and belched. His captain waited for him to settle back into his chair before tugging on the corner of his bonnet.

  “Do ye want me to assign an escort to yer bride?”

  Achaius shook his head. “And I want ye to forget that ye asked me. Tell the lads outside the door that I’m sleeping.”

  His captain’s eyes narrowed. “Gahan Sutherland is determined to corner her again, I’d bet good silver on it. She was watching him during Mass, those pretty blue eyes sparkling. He had his eye on her while ye ate, sure enough. There are nae many things that will pull a man’s attention away from such a publicly issued insult as letting his mother be called a whore in the Great Hall. A woman he wants a taste of is one. Otherwise, I wager he’d be out of the gates by now.”

  “He’s staying because of her and no mistake. Ye can see it in his eyes.” Achaius nodded. “But do nae worry. That bastard is going to help me gain every last bit of Fraser land. It’s a stroke of luck having him beguiled by me bride.”

  He laughed, and his captain grinned.

  “Ye see it, do ye nae?” Achaius began to let his eyes shut. “Gahan Sutherland wants Bari’s blood, and if I am wed to Moira, I’ll have the best claim to the Fraser land once Bari is dead. There is nae a cousin or a bastard with a close claim. The earl will have to bestow the Fraser lairdship upon the legitimate issue of me union. I need Gahan to have a reason to kill Bari. A valid one would be even better.”

  “What if the lass does nae conceive?”

  Achaius opened his eyes and waved a hand in the air to dismiss the worry on his captain’s face. “I’ll lock her in a tower and tell one and all that a midwife told me she’s carrying and needs to conserve her strength. Then I’ll buy some whore’s brat to seal the deal. It can die in a few years, leaving the land in Matheson hands. Or live if I need it, but it will be raised to serve me.”

  The only way it would have been better was if the land were connected to his own, but he wasn’t going to be picky. It was a stroke of luck, one he planned to enjoy. His breakfast helped him slip off into an early morning nap as his captain left. He needed the rest because he was going to enjoy doing his best to make sure everyone believed he still had the vigor to deflower his young bride.

  For a moment, Achaius opened his eyes. His kilt lay smooth and even over his lower body. His member was still soft in spite of the juicy offering Bari Fraser had delivered to him. For a moment he was bitter, resenting what age had stolen from him. The thought of tossing Moira’s sk
irts should have stiffened his cock and filled him with anticipation. Instead, he was left contemplating how to make sure the sheet was stained come sunrise.

  Sutherland’s bastard son had no problem getting stiff at the sight of young Moira.

  Achaius forced his resentment aside. Gahan’s interest in Moira might have more than one purpose as well. Not only was the man provoking Bari Fraser into a rage, he would certainly take the secret of any bastard he bred with Moira to the grave. That made him perfect for the chore of ensuring his bride conceived.

  If nature wasn’t going to let him enjoy his newest bride, at least age hadn’t stolen his wits to keep him from being able to make sure he gained the most from his newest venture. Life was about profit. Everything else was drivel for women and servants of the Church.

  Three

  The mews at Matheson Tower were nice. They opened up to let in the fresh morning air and looked to be swept every day. Athena had been given a perch with a water pouch hung from it. There was a long line of perches but only three other hawks. As soon as Moira removed the hood from Athena’s head, she looked at the other birds and cried out in an attempt to accrete her dominance. Moira clicked her tongue.

  “What the hell are ye doing talking to Gahan Sutherland?”

  Bari was still spoiling for a fight. Moira put Athena back on her perch and turned to face him.

  “I should give ye a beating,” he threatened.

  Unlike Gahan, Bari never curbed his impulse to strike her. Now that she had a comparison, in her mind, her sibling resembled a weak child.

  “What manner of wife do ye expect me to be?”

  Her question confused Bari.

  “According to the maids, there is no head of house. I will be expected to shoulder the duties. I can hardly do that if I am too timid to hold a conversation with my husband’s guests.”

  “Gahan Sutherland is different, and ye know it.”

  There was a rage burning in Bari’s eyes that struck her as unnatural. It was too intense and had been there for too long now.

  “Nay, I do nae understand.”

  “It is none of yer concern!” Bari seemed caught between the need to shout and crumble into despair. His nostrils actually flared with the intensity of his emotions. “Ye have been told what ye need to know. Stay away from Gahan Sutherland.”

  Moira dared to allow her amusement to show. “I can hardly control the man. He followed me, and he is the overlord’s son.”

  “Ye’ll mind me, Moira!”

  Athena didn’t care for the shouting and let out a shrill cry. Bari snapped his head around to look at the bird.

  “Or the next time ye come out here, ye’ll find yer precious bird with a broken neck.”

  Moira moved in front of Athena. Bari snickered.

  “It seems a stroke of luck that ye insisted on bringing it along. Now get back to the keep and take a bath. There’s nothing we can do for how ugly ye are with that common nose, but ye can be clean. Yer wedding is at sunset.” He paused for a long moment. “And ye had best be a virgin. Because if ye aren’t, ye are no use to me at all.”

  A feeling of helplessness was growing inside her, and she detested it. At least her temper burned it away, so she let it flare up. “I wish I weren’t one.”

  Her brother’s eyes widened with rage.

  “And I do nae care if ye do nae like hearing me say it,” she said.

  Bari suddenly grinned. His shift in mood stunned her. “Maybe ye are nae such a pitiful peasant after all. There just might be some of our father in ye.” His lips returned to a hard line. “But ye will never hold a candle to what Sandra was.”

  Her brother left, lost in his recollections. A chill went through her. Once more she noticed just how unbalanced Bari was. She spent so little time with him that the change was clear. Alba’s desperation became easier to understand. Her brother ignored the maids who served him, but they knew what she had only just noticed. Bari Fraser was obsessed with vengeance. Moira had grown past fearing her brother years ago, but today she had a feeling of dread because it was very possible he was going insane.

  Maybe she was lucky to be wedding, because no one on Fraser land would be resting easy if the laird went mad.

  ***

  For all the grandeur Matheson Castle seemed to have on the outside, it was pitifully lacking in bathing facilities. There was no bathhouse and only a few small wooden tubs. Fann set one up in the back part of the kitchen where it was warm and closer to the wells. The cook sent the kitchen boys away so Moira might have some privacy. Somehow, she doubted such a courtesy was extended to anyone else. The cook used one of the keys hanging from her belt to unlock a chest. She pulled out a thick bar of soap, pausing to smell it before handing it to Moira.

  The moment Moira stepped out of the tub, the cook climbed in and happily applied the soap to herself. Next went her assistant. Several more tubs were filled, and it seemed every maid was taking the opportunity to bathe. Or perhaps it was more that they considered they had permission, since the soon-to-be mistress had decided it was bathing day.

  Mistress…She didn’t feel like the lady of the house. The title “head of house” felt more fitting. It was clear Achaius was something of a miser. With his last wife dead, he should have elevated one of the staff to the position, but he’d held onto the coin.

  Well, she was not used to being idle, so it was a blessing. She just wished it didn’t come with the duty of sharing the old laird’s bed.

  It was odd, but she’d never thought much about what went on between men and women. Oh yes, she knew the names both kind and insulting. She understood the mechanics of coupling, but she had no idea of what it might feel like. Some women craved it. Many wives dreaded it.

  She sighed and began to learn her way around. The hallways still looked the same to her, and soon she was trying to discover which one connected to which stairway. It was an old custom to keep the hallways identical, a last defense against the inner keep being breached. When the enemy entered, they wouldn’t know which way to go to capture the laird. Those who lived inside the walls learned to find their way with tiny details. Moira tried to focus on finding some, but she was distracted and fretting about the approaching night.

  “Ye enjoyed seeing yer brother called a liar.”

  Moira turned to find Gahan behind her. The man must have been leaning in one of the doorways. Behind him was the captain she’d come to recognize because he always seemed to be shadowing Gahan.

  “And ye do nae deny it.” Gahan lifted a hand and waved his captain away. The man frowned, but a quick glance sent him on his way after a tug on his bonnet. His footsteps stopped just around the corner. That was all the privacy he was willing to allow his laird. Even a man such as Gahan had restrictions placed on him. No doubt his captain wasn’t willing to be the one to tell the Earl of Sutherland that his son had died on his watch.

  “I am nae accustomed to being dishonest, in spite of what ye seem to think me nature is. And Bari says many things he should think on before letting past his lips.” The lengthening afternoon shadows left her no attention to give to his attempts to needle her. She was more concerned with the wedding taking place at sunset. Still, Gahan was not a man who had time to waste. Nor was he an idle person given to wasting daylight. He’d sought her out, yet he might have had her summoned. Whatever he craved, he wanted to ask her in private.

  “Ye want something from me. What is it?”

  Gahan’s expression changed. She ended up staring at him because he’d always been so intense around her that this transformation was startling. He’d dropped his guarded look and appeared almost uncertain.

  “I want ye to give me yer hawk,” he said at last. “Make a gift of her to me.”

  Surprise held her silent for a moment. Gahan drew in a deep breath and angled his head as he looked down at her.

  “Me men will make sure she comes to no harm.”

  She gasped. “How do ye know about Bari’s threat?”

 
He shrugged. “It’s always wise to keep a few of the stableboys friendly with me. I’m sure they will put the silver to good use. Most of them do nae have shoes.”

  That was a shame in a castle as great as this one was. Those same boys would man the cannons should there be an attack. They should have been clothed. It was the duty of the laird to see it was done, and a shame that the overlord’s son was noticing it was not done. Achaius was a miser, and that often destroyed loyalty. But she would soon be his wife, and she’d have the power to right the wrong.

  “Thank ye for telling me. I’ll see to the boys.” Apparently they were as much in need of her doing her duty as Alba. If she failed to wed Achaius, the Matheson castle folk would continue to suffer, for no one would notice. Her throat tightened, like there was a noose knotted around it.

  “And yer hawk?”

  “Why do ye offer me help?” Maybe she was being foolish to question him, but she just couldn’t control her curiosity. Maybe it was because he was the only person she could speak her mind to.

  He shrugged, and for a moment she was distracted by the way his shoulders moved beneath his shirt. There was something about him that fascinated her and made her heart beat faster. She wanted to look at this man, actually stare at him. It was like being under a spell.

  “Maybe I want to strike at yer brother any way possible. Or perhaps I’ll admit that I’ve raised hawks since I was a boy, too, and cannae stomach knowing yer brother will harm one out of spite. I dare say, if he were in your shoes, he’d nae be standing as straight as ye are.”

  “He’s never allowed me to call him brother, because my mother was common-born.” It was a slip, an admission she had no reason for sharing with him. Bari hated her for her blood. She’d do well to remember that hatred…

  “There are plenty of Highland lairds who have the same blood in their veins. There are many who claim it keeps the blood strong. Yer father wed her, so the matter should nae be questioned.”

  She was at a loss for a long moment, unsure what to say, for he was offering kindness when she had never expected it. Not from anyone—least of all from him.