To Wed A Highlander Page 4

  Colin held her for several minutes waiting for his body to calm. Instead, every muscle remained alive with need. She had to leave and quickly, before he lost the control he took such pride in having. “Be at the chapel an hour before the sun sets. Tomorrow we will be wed,” he ordered gruffly, moving her away from him.

  Colin quickly turned around lest she see his burgeoning manhood. Cold water was his only hope in dampening the fires she had ignited with her honest response to his embrace. Even with his back to her, he could still see the memory of her naked flesh as she emerged dripping with lucky droplets of water that touched every morsel of her body.

  He dove into the cold waters thankful for their magical cure, but he knew it was only temporary. Later, as he sought sleep, he would remember her taste on his tongue—hot, wet, and sweet. Thank God, he only had to wait one night. Makenna would be his wife on the morrow and as soon as possible afterward, he was going to make love to her until all the needs pulsing through him were satisfied.

  Makenna stood puzzled and hurt, staring at his retreating back for several minutes. After all his talk about running around unescorted, the man was actually going to leave her to ride back to Lochlen alone while he took a swim. The kiss was just a way for him to manipulate her into abiding his will.

  She found her brown chestnut tied beside his large black mount and jumped on its back. She looked at the vacant spot from which Colin disappeared and uttered aloud, “You may be able to kiss, Colin McTiernay, but you’re still an overgrown giant. And you may be getting a wife tomorrow, but that doesn’t mean I will suddenly submit to you or your archaic rules. I will ride, and I will hunt, and I will keep training with a sword. And you can find someone else to run your keep and warm your bed.”

  Makenna turned her horse and began riding hard back to the noise and firelight of Lochlen. Tears flowed down her cheeks. “What were you thinking, Deirdre?”

  Chapter Two

  Makenna felt like her mind had temporarily dislodged from her body. From the moment she had woken up, the noise in her chambers had only grown in volume. Her sisters, Rona and Ula, had ordered everyone to report to them, and they had claimed the bride’s room as their base of operations. Nonstop orders were issued to a constant stream of people shuffling in and out of her room. After years of watching her sisters orchestrate every clan event whether large or small, Makenna knew the role she was expected to play—silent and unseen. It seemed her wedding day was to be no different.

  “There,” Rona announced with a dramatic sigh, rising to close the door. “I believe everyone is ready but you, Makenna. I am not sure how you would have managed if Ula and I had not been so willing to sacrifice our time away from our own homes.”

  With her tall, elegant frame and enviable blond hair, Rona epitomized the Dunstan daughters and she had never let Makenna forget how incredibly different she was from the rest of them.

  Makenna glanced at her sister before turning away to roll her eyes. “It’s the least you could do after barging into my room,” Makenna mumbled to herself. “The sun had barely risen before I had to deal with you and Ula’s never-ending chatter about every little thing from my hair to my dress.”

  Makenna knew she should have expected her sisters’ early morning greeting. In an effort to gain their father’s favor—and some of his riches—Ula and Rona had arrived at Lochlen over a month ago to ensure that the wedding went off as planned. Brimming with never-ending criticism about the feast, the ceremony, her dress, and even the priest presiding over the nuptials, they had been nearly intolerable. Throughout it all, Makenna had remained firm. There was going to be no wedding, so it was not necessary for anyone to make plans.

  Until last night.

  As usual during warm summer days, Makenna had opened the window’s shutters and let in the cool night breeze. Normally, such conditions lulled her quickly to sleep, but after Colin’s unexpected kiss and her bewildering response, rest had eluded her. Every sound, every whisper seemed to float up and into her room. She had not realized she had been waiting for Colin until she heard the fateful signs of his return.

  The soldiers were just beginning to leave the lower hall for their beds when she heard the fleeing of clansmen feet outside her window. She sat up and listened intently for Colin’s footsteps to follow. She could hear nothing. The man walked with a purpose and with complete control. He probably hadn’t even shuffled his feet as a child.

  Snuggling back under the covers, Makenna heard a jubilant roar coming from the lower hall. Colin had announced his decision.

  “Those tolla-thons think it’s all him. Well, somebody should thank me as well. It’s not just their commander sacrificing himself for them. I believe I, too, will be at that altar pledging my life away,” she muttered out loud, ripping the light woolen throw off her legs.

  Makenna grabbed the Dunstan plaid off the bed and wrapped it around her. The bold red material with bright stripes of yellow, green, and blue clashed terribly with her dark red hair, but it represented all that she loved.

  She tiptoed to the heavy wooden door and lifted the latch quietly in case a servant was sleeping outside her door. It was unlikely. She hadn’t had help for months. One day the girl had simply vanished. Left to fend for herself, Makenna soon discovered how much the chambermaids had assisted her with everyday things. Pride kept her from asking the old steward why they had suddenly left. No doubt he would just point a long, crooked finger directly back at her. The man was an expert at assigning responsibility, accountability, and then blame, but he never managed a word of encouragement.

  Makenna crept down the hallway to the tower stairwell illuminated with torches at each floor. Her sisters were just below, but she did not intend to sneak past their chambers. She was going up.

  Since Forfar Tower’s erection, the laird’s sons and daughters resided in its walls. Its counterpart, Canmore, housed the laird’s solar and his connecting dayroom. Standing on either end of the fortified gatehouse, the towers secured the interior castle ward. Makenna’s great-grandfather decided Lochlen’s inner yard was not large enough to handle the clan’s growing numbers and had ordered a second curtain wall to be built. The resulting enormous outer gatehouse towers provided the sleeping accommodations for most of the soldiers when assigned to Lochlen. This left the upper floors of the inner gatehouse for visitors and other people of importance, and the lower floors for storage, guards, and machinery to operate the portcullis.

  Makenna entered the spiraling stairwell just as another euphoric burst erupted. Loud indiscernible shouts were now coming from both halls. Makenna wondered if there was anyone still protecting Lochlen. It sounded as if every soldier had joined the merriment below.

  Holding on to the rope suspended down the center of the stairwell, she climbed the two stories from her third-floor chambers to the tower battlements. Lochlen’s spacious fighting platforms provided good vantage points to launch arrows at attackers, but they were also superb spots for watching people undetected.

  As soon as Makenna took a step out into the night air, she saw the hulking figure of her guard. Through the crenels, she could see the shadows of other soldiers still at their posts. The number of men on duty might be slightly lower than normal, but every tower and section of the inner and outer curtain walls was manned.

  Brodie had heard someone coming up the stairwell and moved to intercept. Never did he dream it would be Makenna. Just minutes ago, Colin had cornered him and Gorten, ordering them to the towers. He was furious with them. Brodie didn’t want to discover what levels his commander’s anger would grow to if he found him with Makenna wrapped in a blanket and dressed only in her chemise. “Milady,” he acknowledged hesitantly.

  Makenna arched her eyebrows. Brodie had bright yellow hair many women considered quite attractive. He was of medium height, and so thick with muscles he appeared to be chubby from a distance. Normally, the good-natured guard was full of so much self-confidence it was nauseating. Right now he seemed perplexed…even nervous. “What bothers you, Brodie? My state of dress?”

  Brodie’s brown eyes widened in alarm. “If the commander knew you were here…with me…like that, milady, he would be very unhappy. And I would appreciate avoiding any more circumstances that might result in my being the target of his ire.”

  “More circumstances? Did Colin lecture you about my abandoning you for a brief swim?”

  Brodie rolled his eyes and swallowed a snort. He looked over the wall at the drinking comrades he would have been with and snapped, “Why do you think I have night duty, milady? And will have it for the next fortnight.”

  “Good Lord, I assure you I had no intention of getting you or Gorten in trouble. Where is Gorten? Or did he escape the wrath of the almighty Colin?”

  Brodie pointed to the top of Canmore Tower in the distance. The large shadow pacing the top was her second victim. Makenna felt instantly ashamed. “I’m so sorry. I will talk to Colin and end this ridiculous punishment.”

  Brodie shuddered. “Please do not do that, milady. You do not know our commander as we do. I’d like to keep what little pride I have left, and I’m sure Gorten feels the same.”

  Makenna yielded with a slight nod. It would only shame the large guard, and it would put Colin in an awkward position. Ego would keep him from rescinding the order, and possibly even increase the length of Brodie’s and Gorten’s sentences. A fate caused by her own self-interest. “I really had no idea Colin was so intent upon this…this protection. I don’t want it, nor do I need it.” She could see Brodie about to protest and put her hand up to stop him. “But I swore an oath to His High-handedness this evening that I will let you know when I am leaving the keep from now on.”

  “Gorten and I thank you enormously, milady.”

  Makenna pu
lled the blanket tighter around her. Brodie was not such a bad fellow. He still needed to gain the control and posture that made a man truly attractive, but he was kind, sweet, and in many ways very handsome. “Hmmm, well, it is not your fault to have such an awful duty. I know I can be quite a chore, and it must be miserable following someone about all day. I know I could never endure such an assignment.”

  Brodie laughed. “I must admit Gorten and I dreaded it when the order came. And while nights like these are not enjoyable, we have grown to take pleasure in joining you when you leave. You are truly unlike any woman we have ever known. Gorten says you are quite good with the sword.”

  Makenna’s head whipped around. “He told you? That was supposed to be our secret. If Colin ever discovered that I have continued sparring with anyone…well, I have no idea what he would do, but I am sure Gorten and I would be the two most miserable creatures in all of Scotland when he was through.”

  “Truer words were never said, milady. However, you must be very good for Gorten to give you a compliment and continue risking potential misery for you. Still, having never seen you fight, I find it hard to believe you can wield a claymore with as much accuracy as Gorten professes.”

  Makenna leaned against one of the large stone crenations and looked out at the Dunstan village spreading outside the second curtain wall. “It’s my Secret.”

  Brodie’s eyebrows rose inquiringly. “Your secret, milady?”

  “Aye, my Secret. A special blade Camus fashioned specifically for me. He’s the one who convinced Father I could and even should learn the art of combat…that is, until someone unconvinced him,” she bristled.

  “You refer to the commander now.”

  “Indeed I do,” she whispered, watching the late night activity of her clansmen and women. Body language alone told her that the euphoric voices she heard inside the walls did not match those of the shadows moving in the village. The few faces she could make out were mostly grim, and none were smiling. No, the soldiers might be overjoyed their commander was to remain with them and eventually become their laird, but her clan was not of the same mind.

  “I should leave you before Colin wonders why there are two bodies up here and decides to abandon the party to investigate.”

  Brodie moved out of the way to give her access back down the stairwell. “Thank you, milady; however, the commander has already retired for the evening.”

  Makenna paused after descending one step. “He did? I thought Colin would be celebrating his grand decision with his men.”

  “No, milady. The commander announced you and he had decided it would be best for the clan and the men if you were to wed. I realize it was not of your choosing, milady, but I…all of us…appreciate the decision. We hope you both will find happiness and peace despite the reasons behind your union.”

  Makenna blinked a few times and stared up into the dark, clear sky. Colin had publicly declared that she, too, had made the decision and the sacrifice to wed. She could not recall anyone—especially a man—giving a woman credit in such a way. Not even her father whom she loved with all her heart. Her sisters’ husbands exerted their control whenever possible, always seeking praise for efforts, decisions, and possessions that were not theirs.

  Colin’s generosity did not make sense. He had been so adamant against marrying her, implying she was inept and unsatisfactory as a woman. And without warning, he had changed his mind.

  Then he had kissed her.

  True, it had been her first serious kiss with any man, but she had not been prepared to experience such a rare, passionate connection. Even now she feared only Colin could create the powerful whirlwind of emotion it had awakened within her.

  For a moment during their embrace, she believed Colin was experiencing the same tumult of desire, but she had been wrong. He could not have shared the same yearning, craving for her as she had for him and then turn cold and aloof so quickly. Within a blink of an eye, he acted as if the kiss had never happened. With the next blink, Colin made the decision to marry, and she was supposed to go back to the keep and abide by it. But if Brodie’s revelation about Colin’s announcement was true, she might have misinterpreted his reaction to their kiss. How was she going to live with a man who was such a mixture of contradictions and mystery?

  “Mystery, Makenna?” Ula inquired, breaking Makenna’s memories of the previous night.

  “Did I say that out loud?” Makenna asked weakly.

  “Aye, you did,” answered Rona. “But you make no sense. What’s a mixture of contradictions and mystery?”

  Ula laughed condescendingly. “What else? Men! It’s about time little Makenna finally figured out why we women find them so fascinating.”

  Rona came up and draped a gold cross around Makenna’s neck and clasped it. “Speak for yourself, Ula. My husband stopped being fascinating long ago. I tolerate him because he pampers me and stays out of my way. Though do not get me wrong. I am glad to be married to him. If I weren’t, Father would be forcing me into marrying that hulking Highlander and not poor Makenna.”

  Ula faked a shiver. “You can say that again. Even our sister Edna escaped; though I think choosing the church is a little extreme.”

  Rona adjusted the gold strand and smiled in smug satisfaction. “Oooh, there. That’s it. I must say, little sister, I never thought you could look this beautiful. Then again, you never would sit still long enough for any of us to see what was under that mass of red hair.”

  Ula nodded so enthusiastically Makenna thought her sister’s head would snap off. “Aye, look for yourself, Makenna,” Ula instructed, handing her a flat rectangular reflecting dish of highly polished silver.

  Makenna was not fooled by her sisters’ gaiety, nor did she believe their cheery disposition was indicative of her clan’s feelings toward her pending nuptials. Still, they were telling the truth. She did look beautiful. For the first time in her life, she was glad not to possess the straight gold-blond tresses of her four sisters and her mother. She alone had received the Dunstan dark red hair and green eyes. And today, they did not appear to be wild or untidy, but captivating.

  “I must say that while the Dunstan colors clash horribly with your hair, this McTiernay plaid does just the opposite,” Ula commented as she finished pinning the pleats of the dark plaid so that it hung off one shoulder and flowed to the floor without disturbing the beauty of the blue bliaut that lay beneath. “When your husband—”

  “He’s not my husband yet,” Makenna countered, hoping that by some miracle Colin never would be.

  “Fine, when your soon-to-be husband handed me his plaid and instructed that you wear it today, I was concerned it would mar the overall look Rona and I spent hours trying to create. But it has done just the opposite. Don’t you think, sister?”

  Rona moved alongside Makenna plucking at phantom pieces of dust before agreeing with Ula’s assessment via a long-winded speech, which spawned a rambling response from Ula and another from Rona.

  Makenna tuned them out and again picked up the reflecting dish. She stared into it for several seconds before laying it down. The outward transformation was complete. The navy cloth Ula had used to create her bliaut represented purity and complemented the deep blue in the McTiernay plaid. The rich green of her chemise made the emerald color of her eyes come alive beneath her thick, dark lashes. She looked every bit like a woman about to be married. Her hair was right, her dress was right, her jewelry, even her plaid were just how they should be.

  But she was not like any other woman.

  Other women knew how to be around men, laugh and flirt with them, manipulating them to do their bidding. Other women would know how to make a man, especially one like Colin, happy. Makenna had never learned the craft. She had never even wanted to. Her sisters believed she desired to be a boy, based on her affinity toward “male-oriented” activities. They were wrong.