The Trouble with Highlanders Page 7

  He laughed softly. “Nae, but if ye want some for the pain, I will.”

  She looked back over her shoulder and sucked in a harsh breath. Every strike was clearly visible, huge black splotches marking where the riding crop had connected with her back. The mass of purple and black bruising explained the ache she felt, but she suddenly laughed.

  “Now what could possibly please ye about seeing such a thing?”

  Daphne ducked under his arm, his greater height making it a simple enough thing. A chemise lay over the arm of the chair, and she pulled it over her head and pushed her arms into it before facing Norris once more. The garment fluttered back down to cover her as she moved across the room.

  “Ye’re too delicate for such treatment, Daphne.”

  “No, I am nae.” She lifted her chin. “I have suffered Morrell Comyn quite well.”

  Norris glared at her, something in his green eyes sending a tingle of warning down her back. “Perhaps yer head is nae so sound. No one would laugh over such a beating.”

  “Ye would,” she accused softly. “And ye would laugh the next morning, enjoying the fact that ye did not swear to do anyone’s bidding, no matter what pain they inflicted on ye.”

  For a moment, amusement flickered in his eyes. The corners of his lips twitched up, and she felt satisfaction sweep through her. But it was only a fleeting moment before his expression hardened.

  “Ye would nae have lasted forever, lass. The flesh has its limits, and ye would have ended up wed to that bastard if I had nae found ye.” There was a cold fury edging his voice.

  “It still would nae have mattered, for he wanted only the dowry. He’d have sent me home once he realized there was no coin to be had.”

  Norris slowly shook his head. “Nae, lass. He’d have crushed yer throat and buried ye so he might contract himself another heiress. Annulment is messy and time-consuming. Being widowed, well, that’s easy enough for a man to move past.”

  A chill tore through her, stealing away her confidence. She struggled to keep Norris from seeing just how much his words unsettled her. “It does nae matter what might have happened. My life is full of things that might have happened but never did.”

  “Ye’ve a stubborn nature, Daphne MacLeod,” he accused her.

  “No more than yer own,” she countered.

  A sharp bark of laughter broke through the serious expression he’d been hiding behind. “A fine point. But a man can afford to be stubborn.”

  “And I can nae?” she demanded.

  “The world is less forgiving of women, lass. Have ye nae learned that yet?”

  Now it was her turn to laugh. “Oh, I have learned a great many things about the nature of men when it comes to controlling women. Perhaps the world is less forgiving, but I am content with the fact that I am not Broen MacNicols’s wife while his best friend, Faolan Chisholms, thirsts for his blood over me dowry.”

  “Faolan Chisholms wanted yer angelic form in his bed too,” Norris countered gruffly. “It was no’ just gold the pair were squabbling over.”

  “Well… I do nae care what I am labeled, so long as I do nae have to carry the burden of starting a feud.”

  “I don’t give a damn who else sees the value in that, either. I recognize it full well and respect ye for no taking your comfort while men fought because of it.” His eyes darkened. “Come home with me.”

  She wasn’t sure if he was asking or demanding. There was a look in his eyes that warned her he was not in the mood to be told no.

  Nevertheless, that was what she planned to do. She shook her head.

  “Why nae?”

  Daphne locked stares with him. “Because I am nae loose. Ye came into me bedchamber.”

  “A fact ye enjoyed.”

  “I know me weaknesses,” Daphne admitted. “And knowing them makes it easier to stay away from temptation.”

  One of his eyebrows rose. “A temptation, am I?” He walked toward her, sending a ripple of awareness across her skin. Nature seemed to want to destroy her good intentions by making him impossible to ignore. She noticed things about him she never did with any other man. The way his skin looked healthy, his lips soft enough to kiss. Or the way he moved, every motion conveying strength and control.

  He slid his hand along her hairline, careful of the bruise marring her jaw. “Well, I do admit to being tempted by ye as well, Daphne.”

  His lips were soft and gentle but still insistent. Even if it was a slow kiss, there was no missing the seeking insistence of it. Her belly tightened as anticipation began to stroke her flesh.

  “Come to Sutherland with me.”

  She shivered, suddenly realizing just how Eve had fallen from grace. Norris’s tone was intoxicating, clouding her thoughts so that agreeing with him seemed the most natural thing.

  Aye, it was natural. Natural for him to want her to yield to his desire.

  “No.” She pushed away from him and heard him growl.

  “Why nae?” he demanded.

  “Why?” She lifted her hands in exasperation. “Because it would make me yer mistress. I never sought such a position, and I will nae become yer latest woman. Why do ye think I told ye to leave me in peace?”

  “Because ye are afraid to admit how much ye enjoy being in me bed.”

  “And did ye nae just get finished warning me that a woman can nae be as stubborn in the pursuit of her desires as a man?”

  He began shaking his head. “I meant that warning in regard to riding off without a single man at yer back.” He closed the distance between them again, cornering her against the wall. “Ye need to remember that there are men out there who believe ye are an heiress, and they will nae be kind in their desires to own what ye are rumored to come with. Come home with me. I can protect ye.”

  She shook her head, and he cursed. “Why the devil not?”

  “Because ye are a temptation I can nae seem to resist. Me brother will see to the protection of his family.”

  Norris contemplated her for a long minute. “Yer brother is a savage. I find I like that best about him. Morrell Comyn would do well to stay on his own land. But I confess, I hope he is fool enough to challenge yer brother.”

  She felt something tear inside her. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes, and she blinked to clear them away. “So, ’tis well enough, and I do thank ye for arriving yesterday.”

  “That’s yer final word on the matter, Daphne?”

  It was a formal request, one spoken in a tone she would have expected to hear in the great hall. She was facing the earl-to-be. The man who commanded one of the largest clans in the Highlands.

  “Aye,” she muttered.

  “I’ll send yer waiting woman to ye. Yer brother is waiting below to meet ye.”

  He offered her a slight nod and reached for the door handle to pull it open. Her throat felt like it was swelling shut, but she pressed her lips together to remain silent.

  Foolish… so very foolish…

  She had to watch him go. Had known it would end no other way.

  He asked ye to join him…

  She couldn’t think on that, mustn’t. It was too tempting to run after him.

  Like so many others. He was the heir to the Earldom of Sutherland. He’d had a mistress since he was old enough to enjoy one and would likely always have one.

  She wouldn’t be one of them. But not for the reasons the rest of the world would think. They might think she was trying to preserve her virtue or at least maintain the last shreds of dignity she had. The truth was she wouldn’t let Norris have her heart. He was already affecting her too much, too deeply.

  So very completely.

  She couldn’t go with him, no matter how much her feelings needled her to change her mind. She drew in a deep breath and went to pull her stockings on. No
, she’d remain firm and stay. If she didn’t, she’d end up in love with Norris Sutherland.

  Which simply could never be.

  Three

  Her brother was a hard-looking man.

  Daphne tried not to think of him as a savage, but she heard it being whispered by the maids near the back of the great hall when she entered. There was something in his dark eyes that made her suspect he heard them. Which wasn’t possible, not with the number of people assembled to see the new laird.

  Saer was dark haired like his mother. But he had their father’s features. He didn’t wear a doublet, just a sleeveless jerkin, and his shirt was tied up to bare his arms. Every muscle was defined. His hair was longer than his shoulders, and he had a single braid running down one side to hold it back from his face.

  Daphne stopped at the entrance of the great hall, pausing for a moment to regard the son her father had so often lamented not being able to raise. Saer might hate her. He had more than one reason to. She was the child of the woman who had refused to share her castle with his mother, and she was a sister he would now shoulder the burden of either providing for or dowering.

  He might send her back to the Church, but even they would not take her without a dowry. She moved forward; she wouldn’t know until she faced him. Norris stood beside Saer, making it clear who had the Sutherlands’ support as laird.

  She stopped at the steps leading up to the platform where the high table sat and lowered herself. Daphne remained still, waiting for her brother to raise her. There were muffled whispers behind her, but she waited, making it clear she accepted Saer as her laird.

  Good. That was what the MacLeods needed. Unity and an end to all the uncertainty.

  “Ye are as delicate as a fairy.”

  Daphne straightened up instantly.

  “But a fiery one by the look on yer face,” Saer continued.

  “Yer sister has a stubborn nature,” Norris agreed. “She follows her whims no matter the consequences.”

  “If that were so, ye would nae be asking for me assistance,” Saer boldly countered. They were a good match for each other. Both of them taller than the average man, with thick muscles attesting to just how accomplished they were at doing things for themselves. Neither man took his position for granted.

  “I do nae need to ask yer permission,” Norris remarked with unmistakable authority.

  “But many would say I’m a savage from the isles who does nae understand anything of loyalty,” Saer replied softly.

  For a moment, tension filled the hall. Saer and Norris stared each other down while the MacLeods looked on.

  “Even if that were so, ye’d still understand the importance of keeping blood close,” Norris informed him.

  Gahan had stepped up behind his laird, while another man with a dark scar running down his right cheek stood behind Saer.

  Her brother turned to look at her. “I understand ye refused to swear to Comyn, and yer back is as battered as yer face because of it.”

  “Yes,” she answered. “Fairies are creatures of the land and therefore hearty.”

  Saer chuckled. He shared an amused look with Norris. “I believe it is going to be greatly amusing to hear ye thank me for granting ye yer wish, because me sister is going to make ye sorry.”

  Norris smiled slowly and with a great deal of satisfaction. He turned his attention to her, and her knees threatened to give way. He looked like he’d won some victory, one that pleased him greatly.

  “Set yer woman to packing yer things, Daphne. Ye’ll be returning to Sutherland with me.”

  “I will nae.” For a moment she forgot where she was. The sound of disapproving grunts reminded her instantly that so many were watching.

  Father Peter would have her in the stocks before midday. Even that idea wasn’t enough to make her lower herself. She glared at Norris, refusing to give him even a nod.

  “There is nae reason for me to go with ye,” she insisted.

  His smile never faded; it just became more menacing. “Do ye deny sharing yer bed with me two nights past, Daphne MacLeod?”

  He was adding her last name to ensure everyone heard and understood. Her checks burned scarlet, but she refused to lower her chin. Maybe he was the heir to the most powerful earldom in the Highlands, but she did not belong to him.

  Saer added his own demand. “Answer the question, Sister. Is the man telling me the truth?”

  Gahan stepped to the side, making to place himself between Saer and Norris.

  “Hold,” Norris told his man. “It’s the God-given right of every man to fight for the honor of his sister.”

  “Oh, for Christ’s sake,” Daphne exploded. “There will be no fighting on me account.” She shot Norris a scathing look. “Aye. Ye were in me bed two nights past, me laird.”

  “Then the man has the right to insist ye travel with him,” Saer informed her. “Even if I have little liking for the insinuation that I can nae protect what is mine.”

  “As I do nae appreciate hearing ye question me motives for taking yer sister with me. A Sutherland should be born on Sutherland land,” Norris remarked. “Naught was said of yer lack of ability. I’m no sniveling Englishman to offer insults through veiled pleasantries.”

  Norris stared at her brother for a long moment before her brother nodded. “In the short time I’ve known ye, that seems to be true enough. But it is still less than complimentary that ye feel the need to take me sister with ye.”

  “Actually, it is a compliment.”

  There were more than a few dry chuckles in response. Daphne lost control over her temper.

  “No, it is nae. Besides, ye could send word to him if I’m”—she forced the word past her lips—“carrying.”

  “The decision is made.” Norris spoke loudly enough for even the kitchen boys to hear him. “We leave within the hour.”

  Norris turned and walked away, and Saer followed him. Daphne found herself standing in the center of her own people as they watched her curiously. The men fingered their beards, contemplating her, while the women leaned close to whisper in one another’s ears. Father Peter stood off to the side, his hands hidden in the wide sleeves of his church robe.

  It was Gitta who cupped her shoulders and turned her around. The kind touch broke through the shock paralyzing her.

  Which allowed her temper to blaze with full fury.

  ***

  “What is on yer mind, Laird?” Gahan asked the question the moment Norris took his leave of Saer. They were alone for a few moments while they walked through the stone hallways of the back of the keep. It was dark and musty in the passageway, the stone keeping the sun far away.

  “That there is bound to be turmoil here as the new laird takes his place,” Norris offered.

  His half brother cut him a hard look. “She’s his sister. ’Twas her father who sent the man away. If he’s intent on holding a grudge, she’ll have to weather it.”

  “She comes,” Norris insisted quietly. “Make sure there is a cart for her. She’ll nae be able to ride with her back black and blue.” He stopped and sent Gahan a hard look. “And I do nae want to discuss me choice again.”

  There were few men who wouldn’t have backed off at that moment. Norris knew their reasons. Some valued their position more than their pride, while others had families to provide for. Gahan stared him straight in the eye without flinching.

  “The girl has been under yer skin since Sauchieburn.”

  Norris started moving again. “I’m nae saying why she comes, only that she does.”

  “A cart will slow our pace.”

  “Aye, it will,” Norris muttered. “But ’tis nae her choice, ’tis mine.”

  Gahan nodded and fell into step behind him. The passage gave way to the main yard. Norris’s retainers were there, checking thei
r horses. A two-wheeled cart was hitched to a sturdy-looking horse. It would slow them down, and many of his men were eyeing it, disgruntled.

  ***

  “Everything will be well.” Gitta cooed like a mother trying to soothe her child. “He’ll see ye have everything ye need.”

  Maids were bumping into one another as they tried to bundle Daphne’s belongings. Gitta helped her into a sturdy wool dress that would travel well and keep her warm. Her old nurse draped a length of MacLeod plaid over her shoulder and sniffled as she secured it around her waist with a belt. The wool was pleated across her back, with a portion of it held on her right shoulder with a brooch. The arisaid would help keep her warm, and she could raise the portion draped across her back to cover her head for warmth or shelter from rain. The English scorned the garment, because it wasn’t really a garment at all, simply a length of wool. But it was a traditional garment that reached back into centuries past—a Highland tradition.

  “We’d best go now.”

  Too soon, they were on the bottom floor of the tower. Her brother stood there, his man at his back. Saer sent Gitta away with a flick of his fingers.

  “The man is me overlord, and fighting with him will nae be good for any of us,” Saer offered, but she could hear the discontentment in his voice. There was a hope in his dark eyes, one that sent a chill down her spine because she realized her brother wasn’t very content with what Norris had demanded of him. Saer wouldn’t loathe fighting him over it, if she gave him reason. But her brother was a hardened man too.

  “I agree, ye have enough battles here and do nae need any with the Sutherlands. ’Tis a pitiful inheritance ye have come home to shoulder.”

  Saer lifted a dark eyebrow at her. “Did ye lay with him of yer own will?”

  It wasn’t what she’d expected to hear. Shock held her silent for a long moment.

  “If not, I’ll gladly run him through,” her brother offered quietly, proving she’d judged him well.

  “He’s yer overlord. Ye’ll have enough trouble trying to feed yer clan this winter.”

  “Ye’re me blood,” Saer answered. “Me only blood. Me mother taught me a thing or two about how to weather hard times. Did he rape ye?”