He was not used to letting others handle anything in his life. He’d been laird since he was twenty. Ian said curtly, “I’ll talk to him.”
Angus’s bushy brows lifted and he snorted. “You can try, lad. Let me know when you plan to reason with him so I can be there to help mop up the blood.”
“These are for you.”
The flowers looked strangely delicate next to Robbie’s sinewy, masculine fingers. Leanna took them, unable to suppress a smile, though she shook her head. “You are very sweet.”
“I am
not
sweet,” Robbie told her with a cheeky grin. “Though I imagine you are.” His gaze drifted suggestively over her body, boldly lingering on her bosom. “I own I wouldn’t mind a taste.”
Leanna did her best to give him a quelling look. “Rossie tells me your reputation is already more notorious than Ian’s was at the same age, and I think I see why. Flowers and compliments aside, you must know Ian is becoming annoyed by your attention to me.”
“And I am so damned envious of him, I can barely exchange a civil word,” Robbie admitted sharply, glancing away. “I see his disapproval; don’t worry. We are at odds for the first time in our lives. He wants to throttle me. I want to castrate him and take you for myself.”
Put that bluntly, the sentiment was a little shocking. “Robbie,” she said reproachfully, feeling uncomfortable. “You’ve been here a week. We barely know each other.”
“You were at the castle half a day before Ian bedded you.”
She could feel her cheeks heat. “How do you know that?”
“Everyone knows it,” he said restively. “And I wish we
knew
each other,” he countered, giving her a meaningful look from dark, direct eyes. “The amount of time elapsed since I met you is but a detail. But don’t worry. I wouldn’t betray Ian, however much I might want to do so.”
They sat on a small hill, a blanket underneath them, with the remnants of their lunch packed back into the basket Rossie had provided. Twirling the lovely blooms in her fingers, Leanna pondered how odd it was to be so far from home, with the threat of Frankton still looming, and feel so . . . settled and happy. “Ian is a wonderful man,” she admitted softly. “I know you admire him and that he cares for you. Don’t let this infatuation spoil anything between you, please. It would make me feel terrible.”
“I am not happy with it either.” His tall body propped on one elbow, looking every inch the frustrated young lover, Robbie gazed at her. “I want you. He wants you. The trouble being, of course, he
has
you. Every night.”
Over and over. Leanna blushed again, recalling how ardent and skillful Ian was as a lover, taking her again and again, eliciting delicious sensations and incredible arousal as he enjoyed her body.
“It’s that good, is it?” Robbie muttered, his mouth twisting as he watched her expression. “Damn him,” he added blackly.
Not having dared to say this to anyone but Rossie, whom she now considered a friend, Leanna acknowledged quietly, “I love him.”
“I know.”
Her brows went up. “You . . . do?”
“Oh, hell, yes.” Violently he ripped up a long blade of grass, crushing it in his fingers. “Who better to see it? I love you; you love him, and Ian . . . who knows if he will recognize what he feels? He’s older, guarded, used to women besieging him because of his looks and title. He takes them to bed, but as far as higher emotion, I doubt he even allows it.”
“I hoped . . .” Leanna swallowed and looked away. The fields were very verdant, the sun high again, the scent heavy with summer. “I . . . well . . . hoped he might come to care for me.”
“If he doesn’t, I’ll rip his heart out.”
She couldn’t help it; she laughed out loud, a choked sound. “Nothing so drastic, if you please, Robbie. Chivalry has its place.”
He laughed too, looking boyish again and not so seriously intent. “It might not be so easy. The other night when the baron’s assassins attempted their attack, he was so murderously angry, I was almost afraid to come into the room. I think he was so ferocious because you might have come to harm. Had he left one of them alive, we might have gotten information about Frankton’s plans.”
“I was very frightened, but it was over so fast.”
Robbie’s eyes darkened and grew heavy. “You looked delicious there, amid those tumbled sheets. I saw you naked.”
He had, and she was still mortified, because though everyone might know she and Ian slept together, it was quite something else to have half the household come rushing up to witness her occupying his bed. “Three men were dead. I wasn’t paying attention to my state of undress.”
“I guess if I can’t have more, I will always remember how you looked, so soft and enticing and smooth. Even now I can picture you spreading your legs for me, inviting me inside.” Robbie looked at her meaningfully.
“Don’t,” she said softly, biting her lower lip, her face heating.
“I’ve had women . . . they have been throwing themselves at me since I was fifteen.” His voice was restive and the errant breeze stirred his dark hair. “Satisfying myself has never been an issue.”
She didn’t imagine it was. He was so young and vibrantly handsome.
“Why,” he asked, exhaling a ragged breath, “do I want
you
so badly? It is against my principles to feel this way about Ian’s woman, and I
hate
the English. Blondes are not even my preference!”
A laugh over his irritation rose in her throat and burst out. Leanna put her hand over her mouth, stifling her mirth. “I apologize for disrupting your world.”
“So you should, my lady.”
She grew serious. “Please don’t contest Ian over me.”
“I cannot promise anything. I would not seduce you dishonor-ably, but a challenge is different.”
The sentence was said with such conviction that all her concerns resurfaced. “If either of you came to any harm on my behalf, I am not sure what I would do. Please, if you truly do care for me, do not cause me such grief.”
His expression tortured, mouth tight, Robbie looked away. “Perhaps,” he said remotely, “we should be heading back.”
Cameron McCray was covered in dust, sweating, and trying to catch his breath. Handing him a glass of whiskey, Ian said abruptly, “For God’s sake, out with it.”
“They’re coming, my lord. They will be here tomorrow afternoon. Three or four hundred strong each, maybe more, three different parties, all moving toward us.” With impressive speed, Cameron drained his glass, his throat working. “They ride up the west road, bordering our land but staying out of it. Trying, I would guess, to remain undetected for as long as possible.”
Ian glanced over at Angus. “How many men can stand ready, knowing we might have to fight?”
Angus said immediately, “Close to a thousand, all eager to drink the blood of the brutish baron, lad.”
“I’ll do that.” Ian crossed the room, thoughtfully pausing at the window. It was a hazy night, much like the one on which he had abducted Leanna. “He wants a fight,” he murmured. “He means to win by numbers, since treachery failed.”
“He wants Leanna.” It was Robbie who spoke, quiet and yet restless, sprawled in a chair in Ian’s study, a glass dangling from his long fingers.
Very dryly, Ian said, “I’m sure you can understand that.” Then, turning, he nodded. “Thanks for the good work. Cameron, go home to your wife. Angus, you need to alert everyone of what might happen tomorrow. I want all children and women safely inside their homes, with a perimeter of men around the village. I trust Frankton not at all.”
“Yes, my lord.” Cameron bowed and then left the room, but for a second Angus lingered, glancing back and forth. He said, “You won’t kill each other now, will you? This isn’t the time for a jealous brawl. That English toad is almost here. It’s what we’ve all been waiting for. Lady Leanna will have no protector if you are both weak and wounded from your rancor over her.”
Ian spoke firmly. “We’re fine, Angus. Go.”
Suddenly uncertain that he had spoken the truth now that they were alone, Ian eyed Robbie’s long body lounging in the chair, the tension in his cousin’s face belying the casual pose. Robbie’s lashes were half lowered, his gaze glittering with enmity.
“Thunder take it, Robbie,” Ian said tersely. “You test me; you truly do. Hell, we’ve always been friends, close as brothers.”
“If you think I like this situation, you’re wrong.” Aggravation was clear in every word. “But if you think I can help it, you’re wrong there too.”
“What will it take to make you lose this obsession?”
“Jesus, that seems obvious enough, Ian.” Robbie laughed without mirth. “Care to relinquish your spot in her bed? If the answer is no, there isn’t any easy solution to this problem.”
“That isn’t about to happen. You must agree to stop your determined pursuit. Leanna is worried I will hurt you. . . . Hell, I’m worried I will hurt you, if you want the truth.” Ian ground out the words, as alarmed as Angus over the growing enmity between them. Dashing more whiskey into his glass, he took a solid drink.
“You could,” Robbie said insolently, “try, of course. You seem confident of the outcome. I am not so sure you would win. As you said a few days ago, my sword arm is as skilled as your own.”
“I said almost,” Ian pointed out, “and we shouldn’t quarrel over this.”
“Have you asked her?”
“Have I asked her what?” Ian fairly snarled, staring at his cousin, his cup arrested near his lips.
“Where she wishes to go. She has no idea what you intend to do with her. I extended my protection. Mayhap she would like to accept it. At least I openly offered. Would you stop her?”
“What the hell did you offer?” It was tempting to test their battle skills right then and there. Except, Ian reminded himself with a steely hold on his control, that he was older, supposedly wiser, and he knew Robbie was pushing him on purpose.
“A future. One that you won’t. And she was tempted.”
Ian felt a pang of searing jealousy, like a knife to the heart. If Robbie offered her marriage, maybe Leanna would consider it. He knew full well that she was not the kind of woman to live her life as a man’s mistress. Only her circumstances had driven her to lie with him in the first place, and Ian knew well enough she would not consent for the arrangement between them to stay as it was once the matter with Frankton was settled. “Are you so sure she was tempted?”
Robbie sprang to his feet, pacing across to grasp the whiskey decanter. “She loves you . . . but she also likes me, and the way I feel toward her . . . She cannot be indifferent toward it.”
It was true. Ian wondered what young woman wouldn’t want to hear how a handsome young man ardently adored her. “That is not enough for a future.”
Robbie poured whiskey into a glass and turned around, an infernally smug smile on his face. “All I know is, she didn’t refuse me.”
Chapter 7
T
he soft glow of the lamp was aided by the brilliant star-lit night outside, and Leanna sat near the window, her book half-closed in her lap, sometimes opening it and reading a few words, but mostly gazing out into the night. She enjoyed the waiting, she found, because the anticipation of Ian’s arrival heightened her senses. As the latch lifted, a small, telltale shiver of excitement edged up her spine.
To be replaced by dismay a moment later as a tall, dark-haired man stepped into the room. Her book dropped to the floor as she stood in alarm. “Robbie, what are you doing?” she asked quickly, feeling a sudden fear for this impetuous young Scot who was so openly infatuated with her. “This is Ian’s bedroom. If he should find you here—”
“If he should find me here now, he’d probably skewer me posthaste, but he’s still in the main hall with the men. Frankton’s forces have been spotted. They’ll be here tomorrow.”
Leanna felt the blood drain from her face.
“Don’t look that way, lass,” Robbie said, and before she could protest, he caught her in his arms, holding her gently against his lean, strong body. “You’re trembling over nothing. The bastard won’t get near you. Ian would never allow it, and I would die to protect you.”
She took a deep, quivering breath to compose herself, and pulled away. To her relief he let her go without protest, and truthfully, there had been nothing but comfort in the brief embrace, though as usual, he was unable to conceal the hot-blooded desire in his eyes, his gaze flickering over her thin nightdress.
“That is just it. I don’t want anyone dying over me.”
He shrugged in careless dismissal of her concern. “I hope you don’t include Frankton, because his chances of returning to England are about the same as Lucifer being invited back into heaven, but that English vermin is not what I wanted to discuss with you.”
“What’s wrong?” she asked, wondering what would make him dare Ian’s wrath.
“Nothing is wrong,” Robbie said softly. “Quite the contrary.” He smiled—a wickedly boyish grin that made him even more breathtakingly handsome. “Ian wants to flay me alive because I desire you.”
“If you think that is something I don’t already know, you might remember I told
you
just that the other day at the loch.”
“Aye, you did. I might have mentioned to him the rest of that conversation. His expression was a sight to behold when I told him I offered you my protection. It shook him, and Ian doesn’t shake easily. Maybe it will help make the stubborn fool declare himself.”
Astonishment momentarily replaced her worry over the coming confrontation looming on the horizon like a dark cloud. Leanna stared at Robbie. “Are you telling me you, of all people, played Cupid between Ian and me?”
Something flickered in his dark eyes. “If I can’t have you, then I would see you happy with Ian. He needs to honor you with his name.”
During those horrible weeks of being held captive by Frankton, she had experienced such despairing loneliness and dread. It was hard to imagine that being kidnapped and held hostage by another could improve her lot in life so dramatically, but it had. Here she was with two handsome men vying for her favor, ready to protect her with their lives. Leanna smiled. “Thank you.”