Tempting the Highlander (14 page)

Raelynd gasped, widening her eyes to saucer size for she had fully expected Laurel to comply with such an offer. After all, she had apologized. “Why can you not make our excuses while we prepare ourselves?”

“Because, while I could make excuses or even delay dinner, it would be rude,” Laurel started to explain. Her voice was patient, but held no possibility of yielding. “I cannot expect to receive respect if I do not give it. Now come with me.”

Meriel, busy cinching up the sides to her crumpled bliaut, said, “But what about our slippers?”

Laurel looked down and shrugged. “Be thankful it is warm enough to go without.”

Minutes later, Laurel entered the Lower Hall with Raelynd and Meriel shuffling in behind her. The large room was completely full of men, all soldiers who were looking very anxious to eat. But instead of eating they were standing, and Raelynd realized it was because they were waiting for Laurel.

Feeling the unhidden looks of amusement, Raelynd pulled her shoulders back and stiffened her spine at the humiliation she was being forced to endure. With half her hair up and half of it down, she heard more than one chuckle directed at her comical state.

Meriel only wanted to hide. Her frightful dark gold locks were not quite as humorous as Raelynd’s after Brenna’s handiwork, but wearing only an extremely wrinkled bliaut with a shift underneath—no belt, no tartan, and no shoes—she not only felt half dressed, she looked it.

Laurel, giving no pity to their self-made situation, stopped every few feet to introduce them to a different group of soldiers. Each time Raelynd heard “these are Laird Schellden’s daughters, who are betrothed to Craig and Crevan” she stole a glance across the room to where their supposed future husbands stood waiting. Both were staring inscrutably at them. Raelynd felt awful, and though she knew it was Craig she should be feeling embarrassed for, her focus kept shifting back to Crevan. Nothing, not even the looks of shame her father had infrequently given her when she sniped at a servant, hurt as much as his blank expression.

At last, they arrived at their seats and the very moment Laurel sank down onto her chair next to an already sitting Conor, the soldiers sat down and commenced eating. Raelynd gulped and took a quick look around the room. Not one soldier was upset at being forced to wait to eat. Many of them were stealing glances at Lady McTiernay and nodding their heads. They had waited to eat not just as a gesture of respect for their laird; it had been something they had actually
wanted
to do for their lady. These men really did honor Laurel.

Feeling the sleeve of her arm being pulled, Raelynd turned toward her sister. Meriel had inched closer and was now practically pasted against her side. She was cowering, causing several of the men—most notably the obnoxious Conan—to openly stare at her. Raelynd couldn’t blame them as understanding dawned on her. The reason why people oftentimes did not treat either of them like an adult was because neither she nor Meriel acted like one.

Taking her elbow, she compelled Meriel to sit up.
Never again,
Raelynd promised herself.
Next time I enter this room or any other I will be given respect, not because Lady McTiernay demanded it, but because I earned it.
Leaning over, she whispered in Meriel’s ear, “Sit with pride. We are Laird Schellden’s daughters despite what we look like or what they think.”

Hearing those words, Meriel immediately sat straight up in her chair and both women started to eat as if nothing were out of the ordinary. They pasted on smiles and met blatant stares with lovely expressions, pretending they had not a care in the world. When Crevan finally looked at Raelynd, she only nodded regally to acknowledge his attention. Meriel mouthed the words “I’m sorry” to Craig.

He gave her a semihidden half smile and with a sigh, said, “Well, at least you two aren’t boring.”

Seeing their sudden change in disposition, Conan, who had been sitting catty-cornered from them, issued a loud hoot, getting the room’s attention. Crevan, sitting on Conan’s left, swiftly punched his younger brother in the arm as a warning.

Conor, at the head of the table, leaned over to his wife and whispered with obvious sarcasm, “Is this your revenge for me remaining silent?”

Laurel smiled coyly and swallowed some of her drink before answering. “Why, Conor my love, you know that I don’t believe in revenge. But I would continue to watch. I am sure there will be more to come.”

Almost as if on cue, Conan started to wave a finger at both Raelynd and Meriel. Then with an exaggerated wink aimed at his brothers, he declared, “Gorgeous women you have found there. I now see how they captured your attention. They certainly have gotten mine.”

Crevan dropped the leg bone he had been eating. “Conan, I’ll w-w-warn you only o-once, do not speak
to
them or
about
them in such a manner again.”

Coupled with a demeaning shrug, Conan grinned, leaving no doubt that was not the last word he was going to utter on the subject.

Minutes rolled by and people continued to eat as the tension in the air increased. All those near or about the main table waited for the explosion, for no one was wondering if Conan was going to ignore his brother’s warning, just when.

Intentionally tapping a spoon on his plate, Conan pondered out loud, “I have been sitting here wondering, as I am sure many others have been, just what it was that made my two devoted bachelor brothers suddenly want to propose and give up their freedom.” Dropping the utensil so that it clattered to get even more attention, Conan continued, mockingly. “I guess it is their undying beauty.”

Raelynd could not remember even seeing Crevan rise, and neither had Conan, for he was still in midsentence when Crevan’s fist cracked his jaw. Conan went flying, falling into the men sitting to his right. Ale spilled everywhere and the affected soldiers began to pummel whoever had caused them to spill their beverages all over themselves. As more food and drink continued to be disturbed, others joined the commotion. Trestles and benches were now in danger of being damaged.

“Enough!” Conor boomed. Instantly, the entire room quieted in compliance.

Except Conan.

Pulling himself off the floor, he brushed some of the food off his leine and then pointed at Meriel. “Of course, whichever one of you marries her is the luckiest. Won’t be hard to convince her to undress at night.”

Craig moved to stand right in front of his brother, his fist flexing. Raelynd could see, however, that Conan was unfazed. Her green and gold eyes flashed around the room. Conan was the one speaking, but he was not uttering a single word the men weren’t thinking. Craig and Crevan could beat their brother and every other man present, but it would not deter their remarks. And it certainly would not change their opinions.

Slowly, with her back straight and with the regal air of someone who was important and esteemed by all, Raelynd rose to her feet and looked at Laurel. “I want to apologize to you, Lady McTiernay, and you as well, Laird, for my and my sister’s appearance. I assure you that we will not be unprepared for dinner again.” Pausing, Raelynd turned toward Conan and issued him a fierce look that even those across the room could not miss. The soldiers went silent, and all eyes flickered between her and Conan. Unconcerned, Conan simply crossed his arms and smirked.

Never once wavering from Conan’s gaze, Raelynd expressed to the room at large, “I regret for having to leave early due to a headache. I rarely get them unless in the presence of small-minded people. And to those who think I am being overly judgmental of my betrothed’s brother when it is obvious he is still very young and immature, I ask your forgiveness.” Then, curving her lips into a malicious smile, Raelynd leaned over the table and in a much lower voice so only those close could hear, said, “I would like to remind you, Conan, that we are going to be related very soon. You are certainly a nice-looking boy but you have a long way to go before becoming a man. I can change my looks in an hour. To change you into a presentable, desirable person would take a lifetime.”

Their eyes remained locked, but no longer was a mocking, arrogant humor flickering in Conan’s blue depths. Too late, he realized that all eyes were no longer glued to her, but him. Irate that she had not only requited herself, but did so memorably, he broke their stare, pivoted, and stomped across the Hall to exit in the back via the kitchens.

Once Conan had left, Crevan calmly stood up and moved over to Raelynd’s side. Feeling his hand on her back, she forced herself to walk proudly toward the exit and into the cool night air.

Meriel had been just as stunned as the rest of the group, but she quickly recovered and rose to her feet. “I, too, would like to say good night to everyone present. I look forward to meeting everyone under more pleasant circumstances. Craig, would you escort me back to the North Tower?”

Craig practically leaped over the table and offered Meriel his arm. Giving him a genuine smile, she took it and sashayed by the rows of men who had once thought to ridicule her.

Once all four were no longer in sight, Laurel relaxed into the back of her chair and popped a piece of lamb into her mouth, with a look of immense satisfaction. Tonight’s events could not have gone any better.

Conor, seeing her smug expression, muttered just loud enough so she could hear, “I cannot believe you actually
wanted
that fight.”

“But look how informative it was. Besides, was it not exactly what you had asked me to do?” Laurel asked innocently. Conor’s jaw went rock hard and Laurel did not fight the urge to lean over and kiss him. “Before tonight, no one would have believed Craig or Crevan was going to be married, especially to Laird Schellden’s daughters. Both women needed something to shatter people’s impressions of them and allow their true character to be revealed for all to see.”

Grimacing, Conor shoved his plate with food away from him. Grabbing his mug of ale, he told her, “Next time find another way. I was hungry until I was forced to watch Conan act like an ass and have my younger brothers’ honor be saved by two silly girls.”

Laurel shrugged, still very satisfied. Raelynd and Meriel had looked foolish but in the end it had only worked in their favor. She would not have changed a single thing, including how they came to Craig and Crevan’s rescue, and Laurel’s demeanor clearly said so.

Conor huffed, wondering at the nightmare he had created. He had told Laurel to help plan a wedding—not work on people’s characters! Worse, he knew his wife had only just begun!
Damn you, Rae Schellden,
he silently cursed.
I didn’t want to be involved, and yet here I am, getting tangled in this mess just as you knew I would be.

Conor looked down at his very happy wife. “Stop. I mean it. Stop every plan you have and leave everything and everyone alone. You’re right,” he whispered, “there is no wedding. There never was.”

Laurel waved her hand to shoo him away. “This afternoon I just might have agreed. Now, I am not so sure.”

Conor slunk down into his chair, intertwined his fingers and stared at the ceiling. Most people had calm marriages with only bouts of excitement. With six brothers and an enterprising wife, peace bestowed itself rarely. He had no idea what was in store in the coming month, but he knew it was too late to stop it. Unfortunately, Laurel enjoyed developing and implementing a good strategy as much as he did.

At least this time her plans are for Craig and Crevan,
he told himself. And it was their decision to agree to Schellden’s crazy scheme.
It is only fair that they should have to pay the price.

Chapter 10

Raelynd stood motionless under the night sky, still somewhat stunned by everything that had happened. Yes, she had defended herself surprisingly well against Conan, but her shock was stemming from what occurred just before. Never in her life had she needed a hero more than when Conan first disparaged her in front of everyone, and when Crevan defended her, she could not have imagined a better one. Never had any man ever looked more attractive than Crevan when he punched his brother in the face because of what Conan had said about her.

She moved her eyes toward Crevan, who was looking across the courtyard, but she knew his mind was elsewhere. His dark brown hair gleamed in the firelight. Like his brother’s, his hair fell just past his shoulders, but where Craig almost always had his pulled back, Crevan let his flow free. Remembering how it felt the night he kissed her, Raelynd resisted the urge to dive both her hands in the soft, thick mass.

Without warning, Crevan shifted his gaze to meet hers. No longer did his expression reflect shame, but approval. The McTiernays were known for their brilliant blue eyes, but Crevan’s were different. They were a deeper shade, reminding her of sapphires. And tonight, it was not humor sparkling in them, but something else. Crevan’s eyes were filled with admiration, which rattled Raelynd to her very core.

“Crevan,” she said softly, “thank you.”

“I didn’t do anything. You were the one who made him stop,” he said firmly.

Not wanting to argue, Raelynd glanced down and spied his knuckles, which were scraped and bleeding. Instinctively she reached out and lifted his right hand to take a better look.

“It’s nothing,” he assured her, and halfheartedly attempted to reclaim his hand.

Her touch was both reassuring and alarming. When Raelynd had entered the Lower Hall in a state of disarray, he had been appalled. He should have known that Laurel would have quickly recognized the same selfregarding tendencies in Schellden’s daughters he had witnessed. But instead of looking the other way or lecturing her, his sister-in-law simply made both Raelynd and Meriel live with the consequences of their decisions. As a result, in a mere half hour, Raelynd had revealed the strong woman he had always suspected lurked underneath. What he had not imagined was that when this side of Raelynd finally did emerge, how he would feel. Escorting her from the Hall with her on his arm, he had not only felt satisfaction, but deep honor at being the one to do so.

All that emotion, her touch, plus the memory of their kiss were about to obliterate the little self-control Crevan could maintain around her. A surge of self-preservation took over and unconsciously knowing it would make her pull away, he said, “If that is how you are going to appear at dinner each night, it is going to make my brother’s job that much more difficult getting people to believe he would want to marry you.”

Before Raelynd could even react, Meriel bounded out of the doors, laughing alongside Craig. “That was fantastic, Lyndee. Only problem was you did it before we ate. I’m starving!”

Craig, oblivious to the tears welling up in Raelynd’s eyes, captured her by the waist and swung her around. “You were amazing!” he shouted. “Never has Conan been publicly trounced by a woman like that!” Then he set her down on her feet and pointed at Meriel. “And you . . . Lord, woman, what did you
do
to your hair?!”

Meriel tried to frown at him, but she was unable to hold it for very long before breaking out into laughter again. “It wasn’t me! It was your sweet little niece Brenna.”

“Bad idea! Never let her touch either of your heads again!” Craig commanded good-naturedly.

Meriel playfully swatted him. “Not all our ideas are bad. Just think about how much easier your conquests with women will be once word spreads about tonight and how you will literally fight for their honor no matter
what
they look like.”

Craig rolled his eyes. “That was the first and last time that will happen.”

“Well, then at least applaud Raelynd’s idea to put our physical similarities to work,” Meriel said with mirth. “For the next month, it will not be your overly tidy betrothed sleeping in your room
and
cleaning up all your stuff. It will be me, and I just shoved it all to one side of the room so you can easily spread it all back out when I am gone.”

Craig beamed. “
Finally,
a woman who understands me!” Turning back to Raelynd, he gave her a wink and bent over to plant a kiss upon her cheek. “Thank you,” he whispered with detectable sincerity.

“Now,” Craig said, looking back at Meriel before grabbing her hand, “I believe you said you were starving. I’m famished as well. So I say let’s get some meat into our bellies before we make any more ill-fated decisions!”

Giggling, Meriel craned her head back as she was being half dragged to a building situated between the Great and Lower Halls with doorways providing access to each. “Don’t worry, Lyndee! I promise to get you something too!” A second later, both figures disappeared as they entered the kitchens.

Raelynd, still feeding off Craig’s gaiety, smiled and waved. Then, without thought, she glanced back at Crevan. Seeing his dark, brooding expression, instantly her cheerful one disappeared.

Crevan knew he was overreacting. He had told himself to just leave the courtyard multiple times, but he could not bring himself to depart, giving his brother even more opportunities to charm Raelynd. She had been upset upon Craig’s arrival and he had hugged her, teased her, made her smile, even kissed her . . . all things he wanted but would not allow himself to do with her. If he did, he would do far more.

Her grave eyes drew him in. Last night he had kissed her to end his swelling primal needs but now the memory only served as a tormenting reminder of what was in reach.

Raelynd licked her lips and Crevan, unable to take his gaze away from her mouth, reached out and pulled her gently against him. Though her body was stiff and unyielding, she was trembling and he knew what would happen if he kissed her. Powerless to stop himself, Crevan slowly, inevitably, lowered his mouth to hers, smothering any possibility of her protesting. And like before, she melted into him, clinging to him in confusion and desire.

Catching her face between his hands, his mouth ravished hers and in return her tongue was wild and thoroughly undisciplined. Soft and inviting, she was creating a desire inside him to unite deeply with her, to lose himself in the harbor of her depths.

Raelynd closed her eyes and let herself fall into his embrace, sinking into the one pair of strong arms in which she would ever feel comfortable. His mouth slanted over hers and his tongue penetrated and stroked until she was breathless. Raelynd’s arms wrapped themselves around his neck, and she twisted her fingers into his hair, holding on for dear life. Her response to his touch shocked her and Raelynd was sure she was on fire, that every fiber of her was being aroused into a hot burning flame for nothing in her life had prepared her for the sensations Crevan was inspiring.

Crevan could feel pieces of his soul slipping from his grasp. It was the most incredible kiss he had ever experienced. How long had it been since someone had kissed him like this? The answer was not
too long,
it was
never
.

Feeling her begin to tremble, Crevan broke off the kiss, lifted his head, and sucked in air. Raelynd fell against him, her chest heaving with the effort it took to breathe. Suddenly, the doors to the Lower Hall opened and two soldiers exited, followed by others. Dinner was over.

Raelynd quickly withdrew from his side before one of the men sauntered up to her, smiling. “You can come to dinner any way you want, my lady, if you’ll do that to Conan again.”

He was barely finished and on his way when another shouted out at her, “Mighty impressive, my lady!”

Then one of them walked up directly to Raelynd and kissed her hand, saying, “Run away with me instead. I like a woman who can look good with her hair tousled.” Crevan waited for Raelynd to reclaim her hand and order him away, but she had no idea what the soldier had meant. She just stood, rapidly blinking her saucer-sized green eyes. Unlike her sister, Raelynd had not practiced how to flirt and be coy with men, but these soldiers—many of them he knew personally to be quite shameless in their pursuits—didn’t know that.

A sense of overwhelming possession seized Crevan and he roughly shoved Raelynd behind his back. “Don’t say another w-w-word.”

Raelynd, unaware of the silent challenge taking place, was furious. Men were complimenting her, even kissing her hand as a gesture of respect, and instead of applauding how she was handling the situation, Crevan was once again treating her like a child. Raelynd tried to shake off the grip he was maintaining on her arm and step back around. “I—” she began, but got no further as his grip on her forearm tightened.

If the soldier was aware of Crevan’s hold on her, he said nothing as he stared Crevan directly in the eye. After several seconds, the soldier nodded, gave a slight shrug and headed across the courtyard to catch up with his friends. Both he and Crevan knew that if he had not walked away, he would have received far more than a punch.

Once the wayward soldier was out of earshot and the Lower Hall had been emptied of men, Crevan eased his grip. “Just why did you feel it necessary to bruise my arm?” Raelynd demanded, yanking free.

Raw possessive emotion still coursed through Crevan and her naivete caused him to snap. “I wouldn’t have to if you were a mature woman who knew when she was playing with fire.”

Raw, cutting pain flashed in Raelynd’s hazel eyes. “And just who are you protecting me from? Because the only man I am in danger of being near is you!”

The doors to the kitchens opened, lighting up the northern section of the courtyard. Raelynd could feel the weight of her sister’s troubled eyes upon her, but could not muster the ability to say anything reassuring. Instead, she spun on her heel and marched across the bailey, entering the North Tower.

Crevan watched as Raelynd disappeared into the large drum tower. His face was unreadable, a graveyard to the emotions spinning inside him. Standing quietly in shock, both his brother and betrothed were staring at him. It would not be long before Craig would be seeking answers.
“Mo Chreach!”
Crevan cursed, and then headed out the main gate.

Craig swallowed the bite he had stopped chewing and looked at Meriel. Her smile had disappeared and her infectious laughter had ended the second Crevan barked uncharacteristically at Raelynd. Both heard the departing insults, but neither could discern just why they were spoken.

“Maybe we should just keep the two apart,” Craig finally suggested.

Meriel nodded. “Far, far, far apart.”

Crevan vigorously shook his head as he emerged from the water, scattering droplets around him. Despite the time of year and the months of summer sun, the loch was still cold as the rivers feeding it originated from even higher in the Torridon Hills, just north of McTiernay lands. And yet the noticeable chill of the water had done nothing to ease the tension coursing through him.

Grabbing his leine he threw by the shoreline, he donned the garment and then started to pleat his plaid when he heard a crunching sound of feet approaching the semisecluded portion of the shoreline. Only one person would guess he would have come here. A second later, Craig emerged from the woods and without a word, walked up to where Crevan had placed his blanket and began to spread out his own.

Crevan frowned, but said nothing as he picked up his things and sauntered up to his blanket. He had intentionally not joined the men, either in the Warden’s Tower or those in the training fields. He wanted to be alone, but he should have known that was not going to happen after Craig witnessed his grotesque lack of control back at the castle. Tossing his sword and dagger on the soft grass beside the dark material, Crevan lay down, propped his arm so that he could use it as a pillow, and braced himself for a well-deserved condemnation of his cruelty to Craig’s betrothed.

Craig took a deep breath. Realizing his brother was not going to say a word—neither an apology nor a justification, he exhaled deeply and sank down on the blanket. Letting his arms rest on his bent knees, Craig mentally wondered again just why Crevan and Raelynd disliked each other so much. The answer eluded him, but after the latest fight he just observed, the two had to stay apart.

It was difficult enough to convince any Highlander to do anything or not to do anything, but one of his brothers? And Crevan, due to years of being ridiculed, had a stronger sense of pride than all seven of them together. He also had learned to ignore anything said which he did not want to hear.

Suddenly Craig was struck with an idea. Only one person could convince Crevan to change his methods when dealing with Raelynd. Somehow, Craig needed to get Crevan to have a little chat with himself.

“I was wrong,” Craig began, smiling internally as he knew those three words would be the best ones to get his brother at least to hear what he was saying. “I should be the one dealing with Raelynd, not you.”

Craig paused. Crevan still said nothing, but he knew his brother was listening. If he wasn’t, he would have turned over to his side. But he hadn’t. Craig picked up a stick and began drawing in the dirt. “Raelynd is pretty, prettier than most, but she is stubborn and often immature. I realize that she can be grating to someone who prefers quiet, demure women not so vocal with their opinions.”

Craig stopped again and gave his brother an opportunity to say something, but Crevan remained silent. Still he had not rolled over. Taking that as a positive sign, Craig continued. “I guess it is lucky that I, and not you, am her betrothed, because after what you said tonight, Raelynd probably never wants to see you again.” Craig let go a soft chuckle and twisted around to face Crevan. “But that was what you intended . . . right? For her to leave you completely alone and just ignore you?”

Nothing.

With a shrug, Craig turned back around. “I mean what does it matter if you and Raelynd get along? In less than a month, she will be back home, free to marry someone who either appreciates her independent ways or is wise enough to not change them. Until then, maybe you and she should just refrain from being around each other. And when that is not possible, I promise to do a better job of running interference.”