Much Ado About Highlanders (The Scottish Relic Trilogy) Read online

  Before leaving, Alexander had kissed her soundly on the lips and reminded her that this bedchamber belonged to both of them.

  Kenna needed to get used to this. She was married. And it was absolutely acceptable for her husband to parade his affection in public. And deep down, she was thrilled each time by the feeling it gave her.

  The rest of the afternoon had been a mad dash of preparations. Another scrubbing, but without the luxury of the tub. Women measuring arms and legs and waist and hips and bosom before trying out different colors and textures of cloth against her skin and hair.

  Twice, Tess had poked her head in, making certain that everything was under control and that Kenna wasn’t being overwhelmed by the cadre of workers buzzing about her.

  In the span of a few short hours, Kenna was amazed at the array of dresses, gowns, and accessories that were delivered to her room.

  In an odd moment alone, she picked up a fine silk nightgown left on her pillow. She marveled at the soft suppleness of the material and the finely stitched handiwork. Running it over her hand, she noticed the delicate feel of the fabric and how it molded to her outstretched fingers beneath. She trembled with excitement imagining Alexander’s reaction to it when she would put it on.

  This afternoon in his chamber, he’d torn the shift from her body. The two of them made love in the tub and then again on the bed while they were still wet with the bath water. It seemed that he could not get enough of her, and she felt exactly the same way. He played her body like an instrument. She sang, she soared, and she came back again and again for more.

  A knock on the bedchamber door broke into her reverie. She opened it to find the man she’d been thinking about on the threshold.

  “May I come in?”

  Kenna took his hand and pulled him in, closing the door behind him. He looked around, surprised to find her alone. Rising to her toes, she took hold of his neck and kissed him on the mouth, before pulling back quickly and sliding out of his grasp.

  “I can see you’ve missed me as much as I’ve missed you.”

  She smiled and nodded. He was no longer the roguish Highlander who terrorized the western shores and the captains of Spanish treasure ships. At this moment, he was impeccably dressed in exquisitely fitted clothes. His face was clean-shaven and his dark blond hair tied back. Looking at him now, she felt the heat descend into her belly.

  “My parents forced a promise from me that I would escort you directly downstairs.” His eyes took in the swells of flesh that beckoned from the neckline of the dress. “I can see now that was a mistake.”

  Alexander lifted her in his arms and his mouth settled on hers, crushing her lips in a kiss.

  “They were afraid I’ll do what I did this afternoon,” he whispered in her ear, his mouth grazing the skin of her earlobe, her neck. He kissed the hollow of her neck.

  “What was that?” Her hands moved over his chest. She could feel his heart beating hard and fast.

  “I may have mentioned to a few people that you and I made love four or five times. Or six.”

  “Alexander!”

  “But that was only because Robert complained that we splashed so much water out of the tub that the hallways and the chambers below were flooded.”

  “Now I know you’re lying.”

  His hand gently caressed her breast as he placed a kiss on the exposed skin.

  “Nay, lass. There was water everywhere.”

  “Really? And was there a great deal of damage?” she whispered vaguely, watching as he slowly tugged at the neckline of her dress. Slowly, ever so slowly, he was exposing more of her skin.

  “Aye. Nearly a disaster. They may need to renovate this entire wing again.” His fingers grazed over the line where silk met skin.

  “Is that . . . is that so?”

  “But my father says it’s all for a good cause.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “But my mother insists that we wait to wreak that kind of destruction again until after the banquet tonight.” He tasted her freshly bared skin.

  “Of course, your mother is right.”

  “I am more inclined to side with my father on this.” He pulled the material even lower until one breast popped free.

  She took a sharp breath and ran her fingers into his hair as he slid his hand beneath her breast, lifting it. She gasped as his mouth took possession of the nipple.

  “We can’t make love whenever we wish it,” she said hoarsely, the sweet torment overtaking her senses. Her fingers raked his shoulders and moved again through his hair. “We should stop. I need to make a good impression before your family.”

  “Aye, that’s true, my love.” He pulled back, smiling. “But it might be too late. From what I understand, everyone in the Great Hall heard your cries this afternoon.”

  “Don’t tease me like that. I’m nervous enough as it is,” she growled, pushing at his chest. She pulled her dress back up, covering herself. “Time to go.”

  “Nay, I’ll not have those lusty fellows in my clan down there eyeing you in this condition. Your skin carries a mark of every place I kissed you.”

  She freed herself of him and looked in horror at the mirror. He was right. Red marks stood out on her fair skin.

  Grinning, Alexander went off searching among the pile of garments brought in this afternoon and returned a moment later with a shawl of Macpherson colors. She watched as he arranged the cloth around her shoulders.

  He stood back in open admiration. “Aye, that should do it.”

  A few moments later, Kenna smiled brightly as they slipped into the festive hall. A huge fire at the end of the hall lit the festivities, and the smell of roasting meat and breads filled the air. Pipers played and children danced. On every side, laughter and merriment enveloped them, so that amidst the revelry, almost no one noticed their entrance.

  Kenna spotted her father sitting beside Alec Macpherson and for the second time today, her heart warmed knowing he would be part of her life. Now she understood him. His silence. His pain and grief. There was still much more they needed to talk about. They both had emotional wounds that still bled. But they now had a chance to heal. At that moment, Magnus MacKay spotted her, and he immediately came to his feet.

  An immediate hush fell over the entire hall. The musicians ceased playing, and all eyes turned to her. Alexander took her arm and stopped her from taking a step back.

  The laird and Lady Fiona got to their feet. One by one, others followed.

  “What’s happening?” she asked in a whisper.

  “They’re your family, my love,” he answered reassuringly. “They’ve been waiting for you, and none too patiently, for six months now.”

  “Why are they so quiet?” she murmured back to him. “I told you this would happen.”

  “Nay. You’ve rendered them spellbound, from the looks of things. But how can you blame them?” Alexander said. “You’re a vision. You’re far more stunning than they ever expected.” He brought their joined hands to his lip and kissed hers. “I am proud to stand beside you.”

  Magnus MacKay crossed the floor and bowed to them. Her head high, her back straight, her eyes met her father’s for a moment. The words they’d spoken this afternoon were her salvation. The confidence she felt now came from the realization that she’d never lost her father. She curtsied.

  “Daughter,” he whispered, taking her into his arms.

  Kenna felt his affection run through her limbs and reach her heart.

  “I pray and I hope I’ve done well by you here,” he whispered in her ear.

  She was misty-eyed pulling away. “You have, Father.” Magnus took Alexander into his arms.

  Alec Macpherson was not going to be denied this time. With a booming welcome, he crossed the floor with Fiona at his side.

  “At last!” he thundered. “At last I get to welcome my daughter to Benmore Castle.”

  The final vestige of Kenna’s nervousness vanished, and a smile spread across her face.

  “
At last,” she responded with a low curtsy. “I’m honored to be here—a daughter, a wife, and a member of this generous and dignified clan.”

  The room suddenly erupted with cheers, and the old laird beamed with delight.

  Alec Macpherson opened his arms, and Kenna placed a kiss on the chieftain’s cheek, only to find herself crushed in a bear hug as his powerful arms wrapped around her.

  “And now it’s my turn, Alec,” Fiona put in, warmly welcoming her with a hearty embrace.

  The pipers began to play again, and Kenna found herself surrounded by crowding faces of well-wishers.

  Tess was right there; so was Colin.

  “You do know that with this declaration tonight, you are now fair game. I can play any trick I wish, and you can no longer run away.”

  “I won’t need to run, brother,” she replied. “Because you might not be able to crawl.”

  They laughed as Alexander moved beside her. “Colin, you pathetic whelp. I nearly succeeded in drowning you once but Tess saved you. Next time, little brother, I’ll make sure the water is colder, the distance to shore farther, and there is no one around for miles to save you.”

  Colin wasn’t deterred. “You do anything to me, and you’ll have to answer to my wife.” He wedged himself between Alexander and Kenna again. “Has this brute told you anything of the lunacy in our family?”

  “Move along, lad,” Alexander growled. “The only lunacy in our family, my love, is in the third son.”

  Kenna and Tess exchanged a look. This was exactly what she’d warned her about before. She expected a brawl to break out at any moment.

  “As I was saying—” Colin continued, holding on to her hand.

  “Tess, would you be kind enough to control your husband?” Alexander asked, pulling Kenna away.

  “Aye, that I can do.” Tess brushed a kiss on her husband’s cheek, and suddenly Colin’s attention was only on his wife.

  Kenna glanced about her. She hadn’t seen James.

  The warmth she was feeling—the welcome, the cheerful banter, the loving feel of Alexander’s hand on hers—all had been made possible because James had accepted the challenge of bringing them back together.

  She saw him across the room. Their gazes locked. He slowly pushed his way through the crowd, and when he reached her, he kissed her gently on both cheeks.

  “Welcome to the family.”

  Something was wrong with him. She saw that instantly. The troubled look that Fiona sent her confirmed that she guessed the same thing.

  “Thank you, James,” she told him. “Thank you for stealing a ship, for kidnapping me, for stranding us. Thank you for any other trickery you played on us that I don’t even know about.”

  He nodded, but a mask hid his emotions. “My brother is a good man. You two will do well.” With a curt bow, he turned and walked away.

  “You see,” Colin put in. “Lunacy has taken hold of that one’s brain.”

  She looked up at Alexander. “What’s wrong?”

  “A matter of the heart.” He shook his head and looked off in the direction of his departing brother. “He’s left a piece of it elsewhere, I’m thinking.”

  Sir Ralph Evers sat on his charger, ignoring the cold rain running down his face.

  A dozen villagers dangled from nooses in the oak tree behind him.

  His soldier half dragged the woman through the mud, yanking her by the hair. She was dressed only in a filthy wet shift, her white flesh visible through the tears. The man forced her to her knees and pulled her head up for Evers to see. She was bruised and bloody, her bottom lip gray and swollen to the size of a fat mouse.

  She was almost past caring what happened to her now, Evers thought, but perhaps not quite.

  “They say you’re a witch, woman.”

  She mumbled something, shaking her head from side to side.

  The soldier slapped her hard. “Speak up when his lordship asks, bitch.”

  “Nay,” she whispered.

  “You don’t understand. I’m looking for a witch, one with great power. They told me that you come from a long line of them.”

  She stared up at him, confusion evident in her face. Then her eyes narrowed with suspicion.

  “I’m not trying to trick you. This is why I came here to this godforsaken hole. They say that you can read a man’s past by touching his hand or his face. Is that true, woman?”

  She said nothing for a moment and then cowered as the soldier raised a fist to strike her.

  “Aye,” she murmured, glancing furtively from her tormentor to the mounted leader. “A man’s skin, m’lord. It speaks to me.”

  “Approach,” Evers commanded. “Touch my hand and tell me my past.”

  As the woman struggled to her feet, Evers tugged off his gauntlet. She moved toward the warhorse, keeping an eye on the soldier. Reaching out hesitantly, she placed her fingers on the back of Evers’s hand.

  She closed her eyes and a moment later began to sway back and forth.

  “Did she have a stone?” Evers asked his man.

  “Nay, m’lord. A bag with acorns and seeds and dried flowers and a shell from the sea was all.”

  The woman’s eyelids began to flutter and her breathing came in short bursts.

  Evers pulled his hand away, and she slumped to her knees in the mud.

  “What did you see, woman?”

  She steadied herself and then looked into his face. “You’re a warrior much feared. I see you in many battles. You have seen faraway—”

  “Enough,” he said, cutting her off.

  Evers pulled the pouch from around his neck. He held it out in front of her.

  “Tell me how I came to have this stone.”

  The woman rose to her feet, eying the pouch. Reaching up, her fingers came within inches of it. Suddenly, she snatched her hand back as if burned, and backed away.

  “Tell me about this stone.”

  She stared at him, and he saw her face change. “A lying heart. A devil’s eyes. Always false and full of lies.”

  “Hold your tongue, vixen.”

  “A stone. A stone. You die alone.” She backed farther away and covered her face. “Nay, Englishman. I can tell you nothing. Nothing. Nothing.”

  “We shall see,” Evers said, tucking the pouch inside his shirt.

  Her black eyes flashed with hatred as he pointed to the tree behind him.

  “Hang her. I’ll wait.”

  Chapter 29

  Everyone can master a grief but he that has it . . .

  At the sound of sharp knocking, Kenna sat bolt upright, looking about in momentary confusion.

  The Roundtower Room. Sunshine pouring in through the open windows. The damasked bed curtains were pulled back and pleasant summer smells of cut hay and flowers wafted through the chamber.

  More knocking, accompanied by a muffled voice.

  Her nightgown lay across a pillow, and she pulled it on. Alexander was still sleeping, sprawled naked across the bed, his head partially buried beneath another pillow.

  After days of celebrations, there had been yet another banquet last evening, with introductions and toasts, a singer and dancing. This time, the guests had included neighboring clans and allies of the Macphersons. This morning, many of the men—including the laird and Kenna’s father—were to go hunting. Alexander told them all in no uncertain terms, to great laughter all around, that he had no interest in rising early to traipse through Benmore’s woodlands.

  The knocking continued.

  “Bloody hell,” her husband cursed, lifting his head and staring menacingly at the door. Kenna pulled on her robe and hurried to the door.

  A lad whom Kenna recognized as Robert’s helper stood in the hallway.

  “Begging yer pardon, mistress. But I was told to—”

  The panicked face instantly registered the boy’s relief when he glanced past Kenna. Alexander appeared beside her, dressed in his shirt and donning his kilt.

  “M’lord, Robert said to fetch ye
. It’s urgent, he told me to say. The laird is out riding, and Lady Fiona fell.”

  “Fell?” Alexander barked. “What do you mean, fell?”

  “She’s awake and struggling to speak. But she can’t move anything. Not her hands or feet. She can’t raise her head. Robert is sitting with her, but he didn’t know what he should do. He told me to come fetch you.”

  That’s all Kenna needed to know. She rushed back into the room to get the pouch.

  “Where is she now?”

  “On the stairwell by her chambers. We found her a few moments ago.”

  Kenna looped the pouch around her neck and rushed after her husband. Her mind raced with all that could be wrong. Broken bones. A broken back. She’d seen men at the priory brought in who’d taken too hard a blow to the head and couldn’t remember a thing. She’d set bones. But this.

  She’d only been at Benmore for a few days, but Kenna already loved Fiona Macpherson. Her kindness and her compassion extended to everyone, but she had been consciously giving her new daughter-in-law room to adjust, while still making her feel included. Fiona was the mother figure that she had lost eight years ago.

  Cold fear gripped her heart. There was so much about the stone that she still didn’t know. Could she draw on the talisman’s power every time she needed it? Could she do the right thing for Fiona? As they hurried through the castle, she felt the stone, already warm against her chest.

  Alexander looked over his shoulder at her as they reached the stairwell. He didn’t have to say anything. His look showed his fears, too, as well as how much he relied on her.

  The boy stood back, allowing them to push past.

  The stairwell was dark and steep. She hadn’t been in this one, though she and Alexander had been using others like it to get around the castle.

  A whisper floated up the steps as they descended to the landing.

  “By the saints, Robert, say something,” Fiona ordered softly. “Your silence is a wee bit frightening.”

  “I can’t, m’lady. My throat is choked shut.”

  “Robert.”

  “I hate these stairs.”

  Kenna forced herself past her husband as they reached the landing.