To Wed A Highlander Read online

  “I am certain she feels the same.”

  Conor coughed. Laurel stroked his arm, trying to ease the tension. “Unfortunately, Dunlop, I must leave and see these two little ones have their afternoon nap, but I hope to see you at dinner. Promise me you will tell all about Colin’s new bride and how she has turned our staid Colin into a man of adventure.”

  Dunlop’s brows flew up in surprise. He wouldn’t describe Colin as an adventurous man, but there was no doubt that Makenna had definitely changed him. “Aye, milady. I look forward to this evening.”

  Laurel smiled and then reached up and grabbed Conor by the neck to get his attention. He had been preoccupied with glaring at their visitor and had not noticed she was preparing to leave. Yielding to her pressure, he turned his head and captured her lips in a brief but searing good-bye kiss, reminding everyone whom Laurel belonged to.

  Just as he released her, Laurel whispered into his ear, “Do you think Dunlop hopes you might share me, or should you kiss me again? I vote for the latter, a ghrà mo chroì.”

  Her light tease and reminder that he had her love and her heart brought him somewhat out of his dark mood. He swatted her lightly as she broke away, taking the twins out of the room.

  Conor motioned for a servant to bring some drink and then leave. He waited for Dunlop to reveal his purpose and explain why he was traveling alone.

  Dunlop took the quaich offered and drained its contents. “I am sorry for interrupting your family time, but I assure you it is not without cause. Your brother sends you a message.”

  Laurel plopped down in front of her best friend’s hearth and crossed her arms watching Brenna and Braeden play with Aileen’s two-year-old son on the bed across the room. Dark-haired, Gideon looked nothing like his mother, who though not a petite woman, had small feminine features and light coloring. The cottage was comfortable, warm, and inviting…and Laurel’s typical destination whenever she needed advice or just someone to hear her frustrations.

  Brenna, a daredevil and performer, stood up on the soft, wobbly surface. Aileen congratulated the small girl on her feat, and Brenna’s two misty gray eyes beamed with pride.

  Braeden, seeing all the attention being lavished upon his sister, then tried to stand. Pleased with his success, he clapped his hands together in one swooping movement and immediately fell over. Seeing Brenna still standing, he reached over and pulled her down beside him. Just as she was about to get mad and retaliate, Gideon, seven months older, began to jump up and down on the spongy mattress, completely mesmerizing the twins.

  Aileen handed Laurel a cup of mead and moved to join her friend in the adjacent chair. “I would tell Gideon to stop, but I am afraid without his entertainment, Brenna will remember her brother’s behavior. It is amazing at the young age men begin to protect their pride.”

  Laurel drank the sweet beverage, enjoying the strong honey flavor. “It is not just boys. Brenna will have to learn to manage her own pride as she grows, lest it get her into trouble.”

  “It has been a while now since you have visited with that look upon your face. Has our good laird been foolish enough to quarrel with you again?”

  Laurel let a long sigh escape. “Not yet, but a row is brewing in the air, Aileen. It has been some time since I have crossed words with Conor, but I fear we will battle tonight.”

  Aileen almost choked on her drink. “Some time? Wasn’t it just last week that you two argued about having too many visitors? Or was it you giving Fiona a week off without asking him?”

  Laurel waved her hand. “Those disagreements occurred two weeks ago. Last week, Conor tried to postpone my monthly trip north to Hagatha’s again, and you made your point. Conor and I butt heads…often. We always have and in truth, I think we like it.”

  “You like making up,” Aileen chided her playfully.

  “’Tis part of the fighting,” Laurel replied, joining in Aileen’s laughter.

  Laurel took another drink and then sighed. “Tonight, I fear, will not end like the others. You should have been there at dinner. Never have I been so embarrassed in front of a guest. Conor behaved atrociously, and Dunlop was not blameless. All throughout the meal, the commander found ways to poke and incite Conor’s anger. Both of them were unbelievable.”

  “Was it really that bad?” Aileen asked, trying not to be too skeptical.

  Laurel curled her feet underneath her and faced her friend. “From the very beginning, it was clear the two men had crossed words since I left them earlier that afternoon. At first, I tried to learn what was wrong and see if I could defuse the hostilities. What I tell you now is an accurate accounting, Aileen. I do not exaggerate.”

  Laurel began to disclose the night’s events, reliving them as she spoke.

  “You’re not eating, Dunlop. Does the food not please you?” Laurel asked, hoping he would divulge the reason behind his cold mood rather than insult her.

  “Your cook is excellent, milady,” Dunlop responded without inflection. He took a bite and then openly glowered at Conor.

  Laurel gulped. Very few men ever had the nerve to look annoyed at her husband, let alone palpably angry. “Then perhaps it is the company that causes you to frown so?” Laurel asked, undaunted.

  Dunlop’s normally cheerful face tightened further. “Perhaps you are correct, milady.”

  Laurel ate a bite of potato and watched her husband out of the corner of her eye as she chewed. He was tense, quiet, and dangerously reserved. The air was almost tangible with male aggression. Whatever had transpired between them had taken several hours and had not ended well.

  “Then let us talk of your new mistress,” Laurel offered, attempting to move the conversation to a more receptive topic. “I understand Lochlen Castle to be something of a fortress and the lands quite beautiful.”

  “Aye, it is. I am confident Lady Makenna would enjoy showing it to you,” Dunlop remarked.

  Before Laurel could reply, Conor slammed his quaich on the table. Its contents sloshed over the sides of the lip and onto the plate of food. He leveled a stare at Dunlop, who returned it unflinching.

  Laurel bit her lip to keep from asking why Conor was acting so rude. She agreed long ago to refrain from disrespecting him in public, but that did not mean she would remain passively quiet once they were alone.

  Laurel finished her mead and put the empty cup on the small table nearby. “I quickly tried to change the conversation to any number of subjects. Edward I’s death, Robert the Bruce’s recent success at Urquhart and Balvenie. Nothing. No one would engage. I finally could stand no more of my lone voice bouncing off the walls and left. I could actually feel them hurrying me out of the room so they could resume their argument. It was then I decided to visit you. The only thing going my way this evening is Finn’s absence.”

  Aileen widened her eyes and then exhaled. “You may not think so later. I believe my husband is right now with Conor, no doubt supporting our laird in whatever discussion was taking place when you left.”

  “It was no discussion, Aileen. It was a silent battle of wills. There is only one reason Dunlop would visit Conor without Colin by his side. Colin wants his brother’s help and could not personally leave to request it.”

  “And you are guessing that Conor said no.”

  “What else explains Dunlop’s disrespectful and belligerent behavior?”

  “If what you think is true, then I must admit that I, too, am stunned, Laurel. The laird must have a strong reason not to come to his brother’s aid when asked. It makes no sense.”

  “It does if you factor me into the reason that Conor said no.”

  Aileen let go a low whistle. “It’s possible.”

  “Possible and true,” Laurel said definitively. “Conor would never deny help to any of his brothers.”

  “Unless it involved you or the children,” Aileen said, finishing Laurel’s thought. It was common knowledge how the laird felt about his wife. When he almost lost her the previous year to a jealous and deceitful man, he became a man possessed. Even with the threat gone, Laird McTiernay was very conscious of keeping his wife safe.

  “I have no doubt that Conor’s reasons have something to do with me. My husband has not left my side for more than two weeks at a time since last year. He’s afraid I will disappear while he is gone or do something worse such as visit a friend and leave the protection of this place,” Laurel grumbled, twirling her hand around before laying it back down on the armchair.

  Aileen watched Laurel unconsciously drum her fingers on the wood. A clear sign Laurel was strategizing and preparing for a confrontation. “And just what is your devious mind planning now?”

  Laurel smiled as an idea came to her. “Goodness, Aileen, I, devious? I would never use underhanded tricks to get my way. Not my style.”

  Aileen shrugged her right shoulder as she leaned over to place her empty cup beside Laurel’s. “I stand corrected. You are more like a…aye, that’s it, like an immovable boulder when you are in the frame of mind.”

  Laurel arched her eyebrows briefly in protestation. “Not flattering, but quite an apt description. But with Conor as a husband, I must be or I would find myself doing only his bidding. First, I’ll confirm my suspicions.”

  “And if they are right?”

  “Then I may be over here more often during the next few weeks in need of your company. Conor will have to trust that I will be fine without him here to oversee my every move, for tomorrow he will head south toward Lochlen.”

  Conor made his way up the multiple stories of the Star Tower to his solar. He had seen Laurel return from Aileen’s earlier and knew she was there waiting for him. With each step, the memory of their afternoon kiss filled his mind, and he felt himself harden in anticipation. Despite the afternoon’s events, he hadn’t for
gotten the promise he made earlier that day.

  His insatiable need for his wife used to scare him. Now he took peace knowing she loved him as much as he loved her.

  Conor walked along the stone corridor that shielded the cold winter wind from the inner chamber. The door was ajar. Laurel was sitting cross-legged in front of the firelight brushing her hair. No one in the world was lovelier. She was his heart and soul. He would never allow the possibility of anyone or anything to hurt her.

  “I’m sorry, Colin, I just cannot do what you ask. Not even for you,” he whispered to himself.

  Laurel gave one last vigorous stroke and then stood to put the brush on the carved bench. She saw Conor just before she turned back toward the hearth. He was leaning casually at the room’s opening, his stance calm, his arms relaxed and crossed. But he didn’t fool her.

  Desire swam in his gray eyes…along with fear. If he could, Conor would keep her locked within the McTiernay Castle walls forever.

  Laurel leveled her eyes at him. They were dark like a North Sea storm. When she reached for her wrap and put it on, Conor knew his plans for the night had just been placed on hold.

  They were both strong-willed, and arguments were inevitable. And while their quarrels were numerous, rarely were they truly heated as long as two simple rules were followed. Laurel hid her displeasure until they were alone, and Conor promised to hear her side before exploding. A clear signal for him to prepare and control his temper was the wrapper.

  Conor walked in and unhooked his belt to hang it over the never-used arch chair against the wall. He did so patiently, not saying a word. It had been a hard lesson to learn to keep quiet when Laurel was angry. And any attempt to soften her mood with sweet words made things worse, not better. And questions like “What’s wrong?” or “What did I do?” only excited her anger by many levels.

  Laurel watched him unwrap his plaid, fold it, and lay the cloth beside her brush on the bench. “Dunlop seemed to be fairly prickly this evening at dinner.”

  Uh-oh, Conor thought, remembering his momentary loss of control at the table. He knew then that Laurel would call him on it later, and later was now.

  “Aye,” Conor replied, continuing to undress.

  Laurel took in a deep breath and committed herself. “I think you should help Colin,” she stated, waiting for the explosion.

  Conor scowled but did not reply.

  Laurel knew instantly her assumptions had been right. The man had multiple types of scowls, ranging from irritation to frustration. Tonight, his face resembled a stone surface, utterly unbending. Conor wore it every time their argument was about her safety.

  “You don’t know what he is asking, Laurel,” Conor eventually countered.

  “You are correct, I don’t know. But I do know that your brother has been through much this past year after the death of his wife. I expect his marriage to Makenna Dunstan was not exactly what he wanted, but what was needed. Colin is a prideful man. He would only come to you if it was important.”

  Laurel could tell her arguments had not swayed her husband in the slightest. She rallied her resolve and continued. “Colin is family, Conor, and I know how protective you are of what’s yours. I also know the reason why you are so stubbornly refusing your brother and infuriating Dunlop is because of me. And I won’t have it. I lost my family. I will not let you lose yours. Not because of your incurable need to protect me from nothing.”

  Conor made a low, growling sound deep in his throat, venting his frustration. “Your brother was a fool to disown you, and you have a family now. I am your family. My brothers and the twins are your family. And my ‘incurable need’ to keep you safe, as you put it, is something you will just have to live with. For not a day goes by that I forget how close I came to losing you. And I will not ever come that close to hell again.”

  Laurel gave him a challenging smile. “You are changing the topic, Conor. You will not win this battle under the guise of ‘I will not lose you.’ How is it that you can rationalize helping our neighbor, Laird Schellden, but you will not leave to aid your brother?”

  Conor came to a sudden halt and rounded on her, his expression grave and serious. “If it were just me Colin sent for, there wouldn’t be a problem.”

  Laurel stared, not comprehending. “What do you mean, if it were just you? Why else would Dunlop be here if it were not for you?”

  Conor remained silent and looked intently into her eyes, watching them widen in surprise and trepidation. He knew the instant she understood what he had meant.

  “Colin wants m…me? But why me? How can I help him?” Laurel stammered as understanding dawned on her. Conor was not afraid to leave her alone, but to take her with him.

  Conor let go of her shoulders and moved to sit on the bed, burying his face in his hands. “He thinks you can help his new wife. Colin is certain you and Makenna are much alike and enjoy the same things.”

  “If I remember right, he was quite vocal against some of my habits,” Laurel interjected.

  “You remember right. It seems he has had to adjust his position some since his last visit.”

  “I must admit I am surprised. Lady Makenna must be a remarkable woman to bring about such a change.”

  “Dunlop believes Colin is in love with her.”

  “But what can I do?” Laurel asked, sitting down beside him on the soft mattress.

  “You were right in that Colin was not eager to marry again. Makenna was also disinclined, but agreed for the sake of her clan. Unfortunately, her people have strong feelings about a Highlander as their laird. Some are openly hostile. Colin has a plan to unite them under his rule as well as solidify alliances with neighboring lairds.”

  “But that does not explain why he wants me.”

  “It seems as though Colin’s new wife has had very little support and is new to managing staff. From what Dunlop tells me, Lady Makenna is more accustomed to training with men than running a keep.”

  “Training with the soldiers?”

  “Aye, that’s my sentiments. He also related that she has made admirable progress in learning her duties as a lady and providing for her clan. What she lacks is another female’s perspective on her accomplishments, someone who can provide insight on how to handle a few rebellious incidents and reinforce her overall confidence. And as I have told Dunlop over and over again, that is not enough reason to risk my family traveling into a hostile environment.”

  “Then why is Dunlop forcing the issue?”

  “Because Colin told him to. My brother knew exactly what my reaction would be. But what he failed to realize was that on this matter I will not relent. Colin will just have to fare on his own.”

  With the whole story finally revealed, Laurel sat for several moments thinking. The solution was obvious, but she would have to use some of those devious ploys she had just told Aileen were not her style. Only for my family, she rationalized to herself.

  Clapping her hands on her legs, Laurel rose and walked over to the basin to wash her face. “Well, you are certainly right about the twins,” she began offhandedly. “They are not leaving the safety of their home. I will have to see if Brighid is available to look after them while we are gone.”

  Conor felt his temper start to slip again. “No, Laurel, I won’t discuss it. You are not going. I forbid it.”

  Laurel visibly bristled. She patted her face dry and gave him her most withering stare as she returned to his side. “It would be wise not to dictate what I can and cannot do. If I recall, this approach has not worked well for you in the past.”

  Conor found himself mesmerized by her swirling deep blue and gray eyes, flashing with indignation. Lord, he loved her. “Threatening me has not worked in your favor either, love,” he lightly countered.

  Laurel exhaled and let him maneuver her between his legs. “You’re insufferable when you are right,” she retorted, gently slapping his shoulder.

  Conor smiled. She had called him insufferable. Her strange pet endearment indicated she was not going to fight him about staying in the Highlands. He had won.

  Laurel took a step back and slowly unlaced her wrap, throwing it on the chair nearest to her. Her thin chemise did little to shield her body from his view. The scooped neck hinted at the pale skin it covered, her hidden breasts rising up and down with each breath.