Tempting the Highlander (16 page)

“Raelynd? It’s me, Meriel.”

Crevan hastened to the section of the wall next to the hearth. As he moved a tapestry aside, she could see a small door. Without saying another word, Crevan pushed it ajar and disappeared down the secret passageway, letting the weaving swing back into place, once again hiding the opening. A second later, Meriel entered, not waiting for her sister to beckon her in.

“I thought Crevan was up here,” Meriel murmured, looking around the obviously empty room.

“He was here, and we talked. I think we are both going to try to be friendlier in the future,” Raelynd said, slowly edging her way to one of the arrow slits. Her sister was talking but she was not paying attention. Instead, she scanned the scene below until Crevan finally came into view and then disappeared into the blackness of night.

The man was exasperating and frustrating and many, many other things, but Raelynd knew that her feelings for Crevan had grown significantly in the past few days. At times, she had thought of him both as an enemy and as a friend, but he had grown to be much more than either. She was confident that if she had kissed him when he was in her room he would have succumbed to his physical desires and kissed her back. However, it would not have made his wishes for them to stay apart less real. Crevan wanted to limit their relationship. At most, he would allow them to be friends, like Craig and her sister.

Raelynd knew she should feel relieved. The last thing she had ever wanted was any type of entanglement, especially an emotional one. And yet, it was not relief that filled her. It was a far more disturbing emotion. One she didn’t recognize and was afraid to name.

Meanwhile, Crevan headed back to his blanket he’d left by the loch’s shoreline. He lectured himself that his meeting with Raelynd was a successful one. He had met with her—in her shift no less—looking beautiful and
nothing had happened
. Finally, he was making progress.

Deep down though, Crevan was well aware that his control was only borrowed. “
Aireamh na h-Aoine ort,
Cyric,” Crevan cursed out loud. Everything was that man’s fault. The faster he was out of the Highlands the better.

Chapter 11

“Tog às a’ rathad!”
came a sharp heckle.

Raelynd let go a small high-pitched shout. It was not quite a scream, but it was enough to make the little boy cackle with satisfied joy.

“That’s just Gideon,” Brenna said, wrinkling her nose at the proud interloper. Another little boy ran up and collided with him so that they both fell to the ground laughing, supremely pleased with themselves. “He is almost as
baoth
as Braeden.”

“Just whom does he belong to?” Raelynd asked, not even attempting to hide her irritation, and stepped around both wriggling bodies. She had only been there for two days, but Brenna’s brother seemed to be constantly underfoot every time she ventured out of the tower. Having a friend to encourage his teasing behavior and reward its success was going to make this month even longer.

Brenna pointed to a large cottage not far away. “He’s the son of Mama’s best friend. Miss Aileen’s really nice, but her
son,
” she said with a sneer, looking back at Gideon to give him one last glare, “is not. I cannot wait until Bonny is old enough to help me get back at them. It’s not fair there are two of them and only one of me,” Brenna huffed.

Then seeing a woman emerge from another cottage, Brenna instantly got over her anger and ran toward the plump lady, giving her a large hug. Raelynd found it hard to believe just how many people Laurel’s little girl knew. When she had agreed to let Brenna introduce her to some of the clansmen and women, Raelynd had never dreamed she would be introduced to any more than a handful of people. And yet, every few steps they were forced to stop. Raelynd was beginning to wonder if little Brenna was unusual for knowing so many of her people, where they lived, what they did, and what was going on, including the good and bad in their daily lives—or if she herself, being Laird Schellden’s daughter, was atypical for knowing so little about any of her clansmen who lived outside the castle. Raelynd had a sinking feeling that it was the latter, not the former.

“Ceud mìle fàilte!”
came a melodious shout from the cottage Brenna had just pointed to. A woman with light amber-colored hair appeared and was walking briskly toward them. Tall and broad shouldered, her features were strong and yet held a delicate, refined quality that made her very attractive. “You must either be Lyndee or Meriel Schellden. I’m Aileen, Gideon’s mother.”

Raelynd blinked at the name Lyndee. Somehow, coming from this woman, the nickname she had given herself seemed silly and immature. “You can call me Raelynd.”

Aileen’s brown eyes softened. “Then Raelynd it shall be. My husband is the commander for Laird McTiernay and—”

A small hand tugged Raelynd’s dress. “—and she’s Mama’s best friend.”

Aileen smiled. “That is right. I am,” she said to Brenna. “And I hope we can become friends as well. And just where is your little sister? I thought you were to play with Bonny today.”

Brenna smiled. “She’s taking a nap. I’m too old for naps and Lyndee said I could play with her.”

Aileen shook her head and then looked back at Raelynd. “Well, if all is well I must go, but I am really looking forward to meeting you more formally this evening.”

Raelynd’s brows furrowed. “This evening . . . ?” she repeated softly, drawing the word out.

“Tha mi duilich,”
Brenna whispered, biting her bottom lip. “Mama sent me to tell you this morning about the party,” she said in a voice barely perceptible. “I forgot.”

Raelynd’s heart skipped a beat.
Another
party? “When?”

Aileen interjected to Brenna’s relief. “Tonight at sundown in the Great Hall. Laurel assured me it is supposed to be a very small guest list.”

The mention of the guest list size did not do anything to calm Raelynd’s racing pulse. She and her sister had taken their meals in their rooms since last evening. Only little Brenna had been able to coerce Raelynd from her chambers to go visiting. The little girl was about to put her and Meriel in danger of repeating their first mistake of not being ready for dinner. Though this time it would not be their fault, Raelynd doubted Laurel would understand or even care.

Grabbing Brenna’s hand, Raelynd sent a quick smile to Aileen. “I look forward to seeing you tonight, but we must return now. I need to tell my sister and ensure we are ready in time.”

Aileen’s brows shot up and there was a twinkle in her eyes to match her knowing smile. Raelynd knew instantly that the woman was fully aware of what had transpired the night before, and in a way, she felt judged. But what Aileen’s conclusion was about her, Raelynd could not discern. And at the moment, it did not matter.

Brenna almost had to run beside Raelynd to keep up with her long, hurried strides back to the castle. “What’s wrong, Lyndee?”

“Nothing,” Raelynd answered quickly. “I just don’t want to be late tonight.”

Brenna stopped short, yanking Raelynd’s arm, forcing her to halt as well. “Let’s go back to the village! We have lots of time and I wanted to show you the training fields. I promise Mama won’t come get us for hours.”

“No,” Raelynd said, her voice somber. She had almost replied,
I won’t ever be humiliated like that again,
but she stopped herself just in time. “It is important that I tell my sister and that we are not late. We can see the fields another day. Besides, I need to ask your mother to make sure your uncle Conan is invited this evening.”

Brenna’s silver-specked eyes widened to saucer size. “Uncle
Conan
? No one ever wants him to be at dinner—at least not girls.”

Raelynd fought to hide her mischievous smile. Brenna was young, but the little girl was exceptionally perceptive. “Well, I assure you that I am not like everyone else and that I most certainly
do
want your uncle to be there. We have much to discuss. So I need to go.”

Blond ringlets bounced as Brenna dramatically slumped her shoulders and rolled her smoke-colored eyes. Raelynd took pity. “But just because I have to return does not mean you cannot stay and play with your brother.”

The little girl crinkled her brow at the thought, but a second later let go a long sigh. “Well, someone should look after him. I can’t wait until Meghan gets back.”

Raelynd watched the little girl scamper off. She had never met Meghan, nor was she likely to, as she was visiting Ellenor and Crevan’s brother, Cole, until the birth of their second child. But whoever she was, Brenna and Braeden loved her. They talked about her continuously and Raelynd found herself often wishing she had someone saying such flattering, admiring things about her when she was not around.

Ignoring any distractions, Raelynd went directly to where the weavers worked and waved at Meriel to stop and meet with her. Where Raelynd had felt nearly tortured with boredom for most of the day, Meriel had been perfectly happy and content. She had found and been welcomed into the small group of people who made much of the materials used not just by the castle, but by many clansmen and women. Meriel, of course, had no desire to make plaids, blankets, or rugs. She preferred to design and create intricate tapestries that were generally acclaimed to be some of the most beautiful in the Highlands.

Meriel quickly packed up her things and met Raelynd in her chambers on the third floor of the North Tower. She wasn’t in the room more than a few minutes when random thumping and scraping could be heard. “What is that?”

“Better question is
who,
” Raelynd answered, “but that is another discussion. First, I just learned that Lady McTiernay is having a small gathering of selected people from the clan to dine at the Great Hall. And our presence is required.”

Meriel instantly paled. “When?”

“When else do the McTiernays do anything? Sundown.”

Meriel sank into the nearby chair as Raelynd began to rummage through her things to find the black velvet gown she was going to wear that evening. “What is it about sundown the McTiernays like so much?”

“I have no idea.” Raelynd grunted with satisfaction at finding the garment. She was glad she had decided to bring the somewhat striking gown. It fit her impeccably. The intricate gold embroidery along the hems coupled with the sheer, light cream chemise she wore underneath, made the ensemble both simple and elegant.

The night had hardly begun and Crevan could already feel his skin crawling. Raelynd was acting far too confident, knowing the merciless intent of Conan’s desire to embarrass her once again. And his disagreeable brother seemed oblivious to the trap she was setting. Who was going to win this battle was hard to determine, but Crevan was finding it difficult to listen to their insincere exchanges of flattery and do nothing. Everyone present at the small dinner group knew an explosion was imminent, and yet with the exception of him, all—including Craig and Meriel—were blithely conversing.

“I heard that you especially wanted me to be present,” Conan drawled with mocking charm.

Raelynd gave him a side glance accompanied with a small disingenuous smile. “I did. I did you a disservice the other night. Men prefer women to enhance their meals, not make them unsightly.”

“Well, tonight, you, Lady Lyndee, could enhance even Crevan’s solemn night skies.”

Crevan gritted his teeth at the star-gazing reference. He wondered if Raelynd remembered the first time they had met on top of the tower. But based on her lack of reaction, it was unlikely. It rankled that she had forgotten and he suddenly wanted to get her attention.
“Raelynd,”
he began, emphasizing her Christian name and not the silly one she had conjured, “I should caution you about becoming f-friends w-w-with my brother.”

“Why, isn’t he capable of being friends with a female?” she asked, her eyes wide with false innocence, but Crevan knew that look. It was far from harmless.

Crevan was about to answer, when Conan took advantage of the brief silence. “No, my brother doesn’t think I can be friends with a woman. But then neither do I. Women are for . . .” He paused to look back at Laurel at the other end of the table and when he saw her engaged in conversation, he dropped his voice and continued, “Producing babes and taking care of the home.”

Crevan glanced at Meriel, waiting for her to say something, but Meriel and Craig were too busy talking to each other and ignoring the rest of the party to be even vaguely aware of the discussion taking place.

Meanwhile, an undeterred Raelynd smiled and placed her elbows on the table to rest her chin on interlaced fingers. “What about pleasure? Aren’t women necessary for that? Even for you?” she asked loud enough for the entire table to hear. As intended, it got the interest of all.

Crevan choked, but Conan just narrowed his gaze. Their little game had shifted unexpectedly and once again his brother relished the attention. “Aye, women are needed for that and other things. Including taking care of themselves. I’m glad to see that you and your sister can look decent, that is, when you try
real
hard.”

Crevan could feel his blood begin to boil but one glance at Raelynd told him that while last night his interference was appreciated, tonight it could result in serious damage to his well-being.

Raelynd raised her brows and let go a deep exaggerated sigh. Crevan noticed that Conan suddenly saw what he had known for some time now—that Raelynd was quite intelligent and surprisingly cunning. Aye, she was immature in some areas, but those were limited to few. Only a fool would believe her lack of management skills meant all her social abilities were just as weak.

“I wanted to ask you, Conan, about all those items you store in the North Tower, but maybe I should just tell Lady McTiernay instead about the pests that I think have moved onto the fourth floor since you have vacated your room. Perhaps I should even suggest that everything get cleared out and cleaned. Maybe I’ll even volunteer to help,” Raelynd said smugly, and then reached over to plop a piece of cheese in her mouth.

Raelynd had made the remark only loud enough for those at their end of the table to hear, but the look in her eye made it clear that she had no qualms about restating it so that all in the room could learn of Conan’s secret trips back to his study.
“‘Se peasan a th’annad.”

“‘Se bleigeard a th’annad,”
Raelynd returned, glad to see that her calling him a brat was far more painful than him calling her a pest. Conan would never truly respect her. It was unlikely he would ever even like her, but he would no longer underestimate her either.

“Céard atà uait?”
Conan grumbled.

“An apology,” Raelynd said simply. Conan’s angry blue eyes pierced the distance between them, but he remained silent. She did not say when, but they both knew she didn’t intend to let anyone leave until Conan uttered the words.

Instantly, Crevan was on guard. He knew his brother, and Conan would not so easily admit defeat, especially not with an apology as Raelynd had just demanded. Just as Raelynd believed she had a trump card against his brother, Conan most likely held one against her. Laurel must have also recognized Conan’s dark look and concluded that she needed to become engaged with the other end of the table.

“Lyndee, Meriel,” Laurel called out, “what do you both plan on doing to entertain yourselves for the next month?”

Both women looked at each other for the answer, and then to Crevan and Craig. But they, too, were just as baffled as to what to say.

Laurel sat back and gave a nod to Aileen, which was not missed by any of the four. “I know that you intend to spend a
lot
of time with your betroths. . . .” she said, drawing out the one word, watching with hidden mirth at the squeamish reaction it received.

“You are right,” Craig interrupted, “but unfortunately, being gone for so long, we have much to do. So while we will come spend time—”

“—w-w-when we can—” Crevan added.

“—our work will take us away from the castle sometimes for days. . . .”

Crevan suppressed the urge to say
weeks,
but he knew from how Craig was rattling with excuses that his brother agreed fully with his sentiments.