The Highlanders Bride Read online

  Laurel looked puzzled. “Oh, why is that?”

  “Milady, one can teach any man how to swing a sword accurately and quickly with practice. But it is difficult to improve how a man thinks or the speed in which he formulates plans during battle. Concepts can be conveyed, tricks and tips can be passed on, but the ability itself has to be there.”

  Laurel ducked to avoid a low hanging branch. “My grandfather often said the same. He would talk of his best friend and often boast of his ability to outmaneuver any group of English soldiers—no matter what their skill—by just outthinking them.”

  Finn didn’t say anything in response, but sat wondering at her words. Outmaneuver English soldiers, she had said. Now why would her grandfather be wanting to outsmart his own kinsmen? Unless her grandfather was not English. He knew that Conor was waiting until they were closer to home before asking her about what happened, but Finn knew that he would want to know this revelation before the questioning.

  Concentrating on the terrain, Laurel was unaware of Finn’s thoughts. “How are the brothers off the battlefield? Are they always so close?”

  “Aye, milady. The McTiernays are fiercely loyal and devoted.”

  “So they all live together in the castle?”

  “Aye, with several others.”

  “The keep must be of considerable size then.”

  Finn cocked his head and nodded. “Aye, the castle is very large and well fortified,” Finn replied as Conor dropped back so that he was positioned between Laurel and his commander.

  Finn had been riding next to Laurel for the past hour, and Conor could no longer stop himself from learning what their discussion was about.

  “What about the keep?”

  When Conor fell back to join them, Laurel’s heart began thumping so loud she was sure all could hear. “I was just asking who stays there. It must be very big to house your brothers, yourself and others.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Large enough.”

  Later she would blame nerves for her aimless prattle. “I guess you need a keep of great size with your importance and considerable clan.”

  “Seems Finn has been speaking much.” Conor glanced at his commander with a carefully neutral look.

  “If you would excuse us, Laurel, I need Finn to rejoin the guards in their duties.”

  Laurel nudged Borrail, bringing her to Conor’s side. “Oh no you don’t, Conor McTiernay.”

  “Excuse me?” Conor asked in shock.

  Laurel waited until Finn was out of earshot. “Do not think to come back and accuse Finn of not doing his duties. I saw you ask him to keep me company.”

  He slowed his mount down, feeling his temper starting to slip. “I asked him to ensure that you were fine and able to ride. Not to have a lengthy discussion about the size of the McTiernay clan and its keep!”

  Laurel’s chin came up boldly. “There you go again, trying to twist things around. But not with me, you won’t. I am not some shallow female only attracted in what you have. I was sincerely interested in where we were going and what it would be like.”

  He was completely bewildered as to how this simple conversation had flared to life. He wished he could cut this argument off with some smooth, simple explanation, but he knew that it was impossible.

  Laurel was unsure why she had created such outburst over such a minor incident. But his yelling at her in front of others was inexcusable. “You were not willing to discuss such matters with me and sent Finn to do your dirty work. Therefore, if you want to get mad at someone, I suggest you get mad at yourself. For it was you, not I, who prevented Finn from focusing on his duties.”

  Conor dragged his eyes off of the maddening English firebrand to tell Finn to ride ahead when he discovered that his commander already had. Laurel and he were quite alone as the group had passed them while she criticized his behavior.

  Part of him was glad at her courage; however, this desire of hers to argue with him in front others must cease immediately. It would not do to be criticized by a mere woman—especially one who sounded so English.

  Conor closed his eyes briefly in an attempt to regain control over his temper and the situation. “I tell you this just once. Do not argue with me in front of my men.” His voice was controlled, but his eyes spoke volumes.

  She thought on his words and the simplicity of them. He was right. Disagreeing with him in such a way could hurt his credibility and his position as leader of the clan. No, she would not do anything to jeopardize or even diminish his standing among his people. Not when he had given her so much.

  “You are right, and I will not do so again. You have my word.” Laurel exhaled and focused on smoothing Borrail’s mane, giving her hands something to do. She knew that no matter how hard she tried, she would not be able to keep her opinions always to herself. “Conor, may I argue with you in private?”

  Conor was surprised at the question when the answer seemed so obvious. “Of course.”

  She sighed in relief. So, it wasn’t the concept of a debate with a woman, it was just its appearance. This she could understand and accept. The thought of arguing with him in private was oddly arousing. To argue and make up as she had seen her parents do when they had not known she was near was incredibly stirring. Laurel blinked several times. These fantasies were getting stronger and more pervasive.

  She was starting to fall in love with the man and did not know how to stop this mad tumble of her heart. She knew his position on marriage, and she knew hers. Right now, neither could or would commit to matrimony.

  Conor watched her face and eyes as her thoughts flickered from one emotion to another. He knew the idea of being able to argue with him in private both shocked and appealed to her. But he swore for a brief moment there, she was feeling the same passion burn for him as he had been feeling for her all day. But then as quick as it appeared, it vanished into sadness and resignation.

  The compelling need to kiss her, to rekindle the passion that had fleetingly invaded her eyes, was so strong that he gave in. She gave a muffled gasp of surprise as he leaned over, braced her head with one hand, and covered her mouth with his. Immediately, the kiss intensified, and she opened her lips welcoming his tongue with her own. She moaned as he ravished her with an intimate aggression that seared her senses. He gave a low, frustrated groan and attempted to pull her into his arms.

  At that moment, her horse decided to shift, abruptly ending their brief but torrid kiss. Though physically separated, they gazed at each other, filled with secret wants that neither would voice aloud.

  Laurel brought her fingers to her slightly swollen lips. Though the kiss had lasted just a few moments, it caused both of them to breathe irregularly. Laurel knew she could not continue to do this. She was not falling in love with this man, she already was in love with him—and somehow it happened in just a few days. But it was a love with no future.

  “Conor,” she said, trying unsuccessfully to steady her voice, “we cannot continue to do this. While I don’t deny my attraction to you, I don’t comprehend it, and I need to fight it.”

  Desire flooded his intense gaze. “You can fight it, love. But you won’t win, trust me, for I have tried to fight my desire for you from the first moment we met.”

  “Well, I must fight it, and I will. You don’t want marriage. I understand that. But I don’t feel that way. I believe in love and in marriage. I want them both. I saw it work once a long time ago. My father and mother loved each other very much and were very happy. When my mother died and my father remarried, there was no love, no respect between him and my stepmother.” She took a deep breath for strength. “So, I will not trick nor force you into a marriage you do not want, Conor. But in return, you need to stay away from me. For I cannot resist you and me both.”

  Conor did not respond at first. His insides clenched and a cold invaded him that spread throughout his whole body. For several moments, he stared at her, his eyes glittering with raw hurt and unmade promises. Then, he spurred his horse forward as he told her to prepare for a long afternoon ride. He wanted to get to McTiernay land by the following evening.

  She felt hollow inside, realizing that she had just vanquished any hope she may have had with the only man she would ever love. The pain that filled her heart made her external wounds seem trivial in comparison. She pressed her eyes shut. She had to believe that she was right. While she wanted him, he did not love her in return. Besides, she had to leave in the spring to warn her grandfather of Laird Douglass’s wrath. She hoped it wouldn’t be too late.

  That night Conor decided it was time to learn how Laurel had arrived, beaten and frightened, at his camp. He had delayed hearing the account until now. He’d wanted to be closer to home, wanted to be well within allied territory, but mostly he’d wanted time. Time to develop his own conclusions as to her nature. But mostly time to remain ignorant.

  She said that she was not married, but he knew she was guarding some secret. He was unsure whether he wanted to know about it or not. Until yesterday, he had almost convinced himself that he did not care. But now, after her words about commitment and marriage, he needed something to bolster his resolve to keep his hands off of her. It had taken all of his will to leave when she was in such pain.

  Regardless, he needed to know what had happened in order to best protect her. For it did not matter whether or not she wanted his protection, he was going to ensure her safety.

  That night at camp, the brothers’ discussion was similar to that of previous nights—light, cheerful, and animated. But Laurel paid little attention to the conversation as it continued boisterously about clans, battles, allies, and enemies. She was waiting for Conor to return from his nightly patrol. Behind her, Hamish approached and lightly touched her shoulder.

  “Milady, our laird would like to speak with you.”

  Laurel shuddered at the unexpected touch. She mustered a smile for the group and turned to leave, grabbing the plaid as she stood. She followed Hamish in silence as he escorted her to where Conor was waiting. Perhaps it was because Hamish had been sent to get her, but somehow she knew why Conor wanted to speak to her. She knew she should be grateful Conor had waited so long to hear her story. “I suppose it is time.”

  “Aye, milady.”

  Laurel paused and looked at Hamish uncomfortably. “Would you please call me Laurel when Conor is not around?”

  “No, milady.”

  “Can you explain why?”

  Hamish crinkled his brow. “We are the laird’s guard, milady. We cannot address you by your proper name without permission, and it unlikely our laird will give us that now.”

  Laurel was about to ask why, when she saw Conor speaking with Finn. As she approached, they separated.

  “Find Loman and verify the camp perimeter,” said Conor, dismissing Hamish, who nodded and left.

  Finn moved off the rock he was leaning on and let Laurel take his place. She looked thankfully at him. The night air was chilly, and she was glad she had brought Conor’s plaid with her.

  “I expect you want to know what happened and why I asked for your assistance,” she began.

  Conor stood aloof, his stance open but daunting. “Aye. I want to know the whole story. But, just so we are clear, Laurel, I mostly want to know the name of the man who beat you and why.” His voice was remote as well, making him seem more like an impartial judge than a supportive friend.

  She took a deep breath. “Well, first let me thank you for your help,” she started nervously. She was tense, and just thinking about what happened was only making things worse.

  Finn, seeing her struggle and Conor’s abrupt cold behavior, decided to be compassionate. “It’s all right, lass. No one can hurt you now. We are far away from Douglass land and are well within allied borders. No lowlander will be venturing this far into the highlands.”

  Laurel smiled up at him. “My full name is Laurel Rose Cordell and, as you already assumed, I have lived in England my entire life. My brother is a baron, and his lands are near the Scotland border in the Cheviot Hills of Northumberland.” She looked down. She so wanted to tell Conor the full story, but she could not put her grandfather in danger. No, it would be better if they thought her a purely English maiden abducted from her brother’s land.

  “I was abducted by Keith Douglass and some of his men while riding on my brother’s land.” She paused, hating to lie to him, but then mentally prepared herself and continued.

  “I did not know who he was at first. He and his men rode in so quickly and slaughtered the escorts who were riding with me. Out of a dozen men, only two survived. The Douglass leader was cruel. He enjoyed the killing, the blood. I still don’t know why he attacked, or why he took me with him.”

  Finn looked at Conor. Could it be the lass was unaware of her beauty? Conor shook his head at Finn, motioning him to remain quiet, and waited for her to continue.

  “At first, they laughed at the nightmare they created. Two of them started goading each other as to who was to have me first. Then, their leader, a man named Keith, turned wild. He punched one and then took his sword to the other.” She looked up at Conor. “He killed his own man. What kind of evil lives in a man to cause him to do such a thing?”

  She looked back down at her clenched hands and continued. “I think at first I was in shock. But, after he killed his own guard, I started to fight back. Most of my injuries were incurred during the ride to his keep. I know I cut him several times with my nails across his face and neck. The more I fought, the worse he would beat me. Still, I could not stop attacking him whenever given the chance. Eventually, he bound me and threw me over the back of his horse.

  “By the time we had arrived at his home, I knew I was going to die. Then right before we got to the gates, the demon unbound me and forced me to ride with him. He told me that if I uttered a sound, made a single move, he would kill me without mercy.” Laurel shuddered.

  “His keep is large, but dark. Cold and cruelty fill its walls. I have never felt the like before. I thought that I had seen evil in Keith, but his father…I have never seen a man so full of hate. Even for his own son. It consumed him so.” She sighed unsteadily and stood up, wrapping her arms around her, leaving the plaid on the rock.

  “What happened next was shocking. And at that point, I was numb.” She turned, looked up straight into Conor’s eyes and spoke faintly. “It seemed that Keith wanted to marry me. I don’t know why. He really thought I would marry him after he killed all those men and had beat me.” She looked away again and stared out towards the moonlit mountains.

  “His father said no. He told Keith that he could bed me, but he could not marry me. It seems that Laird Douglass had promised his son would wed another laird’s daughter. He did not think his alliance would last without reliable insurance. It seems that the Douglass clan had made a lot of enemies and needed to secure allies by more than word of honor.”

  Especially since Douglass’s honor rarely could be counted on and that fact was becoming more readily known, thought Conor.

  “He suggested that his son rape me quickly,” Laurel whispered. “Then his father said that he just might take me once himself.”

  Laurel remembered the rest of the conversation, too. But she could not risk her grandfather’s life and share it with Conor. Laird Douglass told her that she should cooperate, for if she should ever return back to her grandfather’s people, he would kill every last MacInnes.

  Laurel, knowing nothing about her grandfather, his people, or the size of his army, could not risk not believing him. She would do anything to protect the grandfather who gave her great big bear hugs, swung her around in circles, and told her stories of Scotland and its great history.

  “That is enough. You have said enough tonight,” Conor said. He was barely containing his anger. Strong emotions slashed through him as her story progressed. He wanted to hear no more. He did not want to be told about what Keith did to her. The knowledge that another man had touched her, beaten her, was driving him to the edge. He wanted to end this now.

  Laurel reached out and gripped his arm. “No, please. Let me finish. I need to tell you and then…then I never want to talk of it again.” Laurel pleaded as tears welled in her eyes. He could see how hard this was on her and realized to make her relive it again would only prolong her agony. But while she would speak her story and forget, he would remember. And avenge her.

  Laurel resumed her position against the rock. She looked at Finn. He seemed completely rattled and she felt an unconscious need to reassure him.

  “Finn, I’m all right now. Remember it was you and Hamish who found me,” she said, smiling at him. It rendered him completely speechless. While he was happily married and had no desire for her, Finn suddenly understood how Conor, Hamish and the others could feel so strongly attracted to her. If Conor did not claim her when they arrived on the morrow, someone would soon approach him for her hand. It would be interesting to see if his laird’s stance against marriage remained strong when that happened.

  Laurel began again, “Keith was enraged by his father’s refusal. Actually, it was his father’s suggestion that he, too, would participate that probably drove Keith over the edge—and gave me the chance to flee.

  “He was now even more determined to marry me. I honestly don’t think he really wanted to, he just wanted revenge against his father. Marrying an Englishwoman would be in clear defiance of his father’s purpose for him. I think that is what drove him to bring me in front of the altar with a priest.

  “The priest was just as shocked as I. I looked dreadful, and Keith was so serious and maniacal. The priest asked if I agreed to the vows, and while I knew what would happen, I refused. Keith swore he would kill me, but I still refused. Honestly, I did not think to live the night. But I wasn’t going to die as Keith Douglass’s wife.”

  Laurel paused for breath. She was about to tell them she was a murderess. Would they understand? She looked at Conor, but he looked devoid of emotion. She knew he had been listening, but could not ascertain what he was feeling. Did he believe her? Did he think she should have agreed? No, he would not think that. Finish the telling, Laurel thought. Finish and see what he says.