To Wed A Highlander (8 page)

“Betraying her people to a
Highlander.
She should be ashamed. I cannot believe
she
will be the next lady of our clan,” Lela added, baiting a response. When one didn’t readily follow, she tried again. “Not only does she disgrace us with her inability to run Lochlen, but to force that…that heathen upon us is unforgivable. He might have been able to fool poor Deirdre and our laird, but the man is crazed if he thinks we will let an outsider tell us what to do.”

The other woman clucked in agreement. “Never wanted his kind. I could forgive Deirdre. She didn’t know what she was doing when she was deceived by his trickery. But Makenna…”

“Never doubt that she knew precisely what would happen,” Lela concluded with satisfaction.

Unable to listen to any more, Makenna whipped round the wood partition. “And just what was I doing, Lela
Fraser?”
she demanded, loud enough to grab the attention of everyone in the hall. Makenna ignored the stares and locked gazes with the poisonous woman. Lela’s almond-shaped black eyes were set deep and matched the midnight color of her waist-length hair. With a perfect figure and flawless complexion, Lela was a woman who used her beauty to gain power and influence however she could.

Lela raised a single eyebrow, pretending to be undaunted by Makenna’s intentional reference to her own Highland background. Born a Fraser, Lela had been raised in the Grampian Highlands, and only met her husband by pure chance when he was in Aberdeen selling Dunstan hides and wool. Lela had thought him to be a rich merchant and maneuvered him quickly into marriage, never dreaming that he was really a farmer.

“What has stalled your vicious tongue?” Makenna asked, crossing her arms in a gesture of superiority. “Or did you forget that you, too, are a Highlander by birth and married a Dunstan Lowlander?”

“I may be a Highlander by birth, but I am a Lowlander by choice,” Lela countered, rallying. “You cannot hold me responsible for where I was born, but I can and do hold
you
responsible for stripping away the last specks of our freedom. Your
husband
was leaving until you became a willing participant in this farce.”

Makenna looked at the woman to Lela’s left, who had joined the mocking and criticism. She was shocked to see it was someone she had once considered a friend. “And you, Joanna? Are you of like mind?”

Joanna narrowed her hazel eyes and nodded, refusing to cower in front of the crowd.

Makenna turned to the now very quiet and divided room. On one side stood the soldiers, and on the other was a small cluster of Dunstans. “And all of you? You, who eat in my father’s castle, partake in his food and wine. Do you feel I have married foolishly? That I cost you your freedom? Can none of you see that I did it
for you?
Do you not realize how vulnerable we are and only
one man
can train our few men to defend us against attack?”

Lela sniggered. “We see him,” she huffed, jutting her chin toward Colin, who was quietly sitting and watching the argument from across the room. “And when we do, all we can see is the reason our backs ache each night with his order to finish an unneeded wall.”

“Unneeded?” Makenna gasped. “How can you say that? The English have barely departed our lands and even now there are rumbles that Edward II is plotting his revenge to retake our homes and property.”

Lela would not back down. “You cannot scare us into supporting you. We know better. The Dunstan land is not strategic. We hold no great value. The English care nothing for us.”

Makenna gaped at the recklessness of Lela’s words. “You are foolish, Lela, and so are all who believe your nonsense.”

The soldiers vacated a small path as Makenna headed straight toward Colin. “Say something. Explain. They need to know. They need to understand how much you have done to save them, that without your leadership this clan is doomed.”

Often Colin had been tempted to do just what Makenna had asked and announce his worth, but he knew it would be a fruitless struggle that would gain him no loyalty. He needed to remain patient and think long-term. With a strong guard, he would be able to take and keep the position of laird of the clan, but it might be a long while before he would truly be a leader to these stubborn people.

Colin downed the last of the ale and considered the Lowland lairds waiting silently for him to speak. In one smooth movement, he rose from his chair and announced, “I believe, fellow Scots, that for me and my wife the party has just ended.”

Pivoting, he swept a very astonished Makenna into his arms and exited the great hall.

Colin ignored Makenna’s impassioned pleas to put her down and continued his march across the inner yard. Anticipation filled him, but in ways he had not expected. The yearning consuming him since their vows had been enormous. He had forced himself to endure dinner and conversations when his primary thoughts centered on his wife, their bed, and the pleasures they would soon find in each other’s arms. Tonight, Makenna would discover passion, and maybe, so would he.

Makenna suddenly felt Colin pivot and watched the distance begin to increase between her and her room in Forfar Tower. She began to struggle earnestly. She had assumed he was going to take her back to her room, drop her on the bed, reprimand her for a minute or two, and then return to the hall. She had been wrong. He was not heading toward her chambers…but to his.

The Black Tower was aptly named. Its unique onyx-colored stones formed the massive round anchor situated along the eastern wall between the Canmore and Pinnacle towers. Colin lived there alone.

Stopping his ascent on the third floor, Colin maneuvered down the narrow hallway until he came to a large arched door. He turned and pressed his back against the thick wooden planks until it gave under the pressure. Once inside the private bedchamber, Colin lowered Makenna until her feet rested on the soft rug extending across the room.

The dying embers in the hearth provided just enough light to illuminate the spacious area. Makenna guessed that even if the fire was ablaze, the dark walls would absorb the extra light and the chamber would still feel protected and set apart. Unlike the routine noise associated with the elite chambers of the towers where she and her father lived, Colin’s room felt like a quiet enclave about which no one knew. She knew her sister had felt isolated in the silence, but Makenna enjoyed the peace it gave.

She walked over to the nearest of the three plain armchairs facing the fireplace and clutched its back while trying to look casually about the room. Before Colin, the steward had resided in these walls. Once, as a child she had tried sneaking into the tower but had been found and escorted back out.

Until tonight, she had only heard descriptions of the cavernous rooms the Black Tower held. Deirdre had visited only once and vowed never to enter the obsidian structure again. She claimed the dark stone walls were cold and menacing. Even her father said it lacked the cheeriness he preferred.

Makenna could understand their comments, but she did not agree with them. The room was not threatening. Instead, it was surprisingly warm, even welcoming. A woolen McTiernay plaid covered the four-poster bed. A simple table to its right held an unlit candle. Nestled underneath two of the room’s four large windows was a long, sturdy bench with silk stuffed pillows at each end. The understated tapestry hanging above the bed was not ornate enough to be one of Deirdre’s creations. The picture of a young Scotsman standing by a river offering his heart to a shy maiden evoked an atmosphere of tenderness, and hope, and vulnerability. It was not what she had expected to find adorning Colin’s walls.

But even more surprising was the lack of anything feminine. Makenna could see not a single remnant of Colin’s relationship with her sister. She silently wondered if there had ever been anything of Deirdre’s to remove.

Besides the hearth chairs, the only other item in the room was a beautifully carved chest situated along the far wall. Instead of the slab legs of the typical six-board chest, the sizeable hutch had an elongated front and back and its stiles extended to the floor to make four legs. She didn’t recognize the piece and it did not resemble the furniture in the rest of the room. “Colin, is that chest yours?”

Still standing by the door, Colin glanced at the chest his grandfather had made him when he was a young boy. That and his mother’s tapestry were the two treasures he had brought with him from his childhood home, McTiernay Castle. “Aye,” he replied.

Makenna moved closer to the unusual trunk and knelt down to finger the carving etched into its face. “Is this the McTiernay crest?” she asked. “It’s beautiful.”

“Aye. The eagle represents strength. It clutches a branch of our Highland mountain ash. Those drops you see off the talons are blood.”

“Of your enemies?”

“Our comrades. To remember the fallen.”

Makenna nodded in silence hearing him voice the McTiernay pledge. It was not a mere saying to him, but a true belief. Despite their squabbles, she knew Colin would never forget a single man he ever fought alongside. He would ensure that their deaths had meaning and purpose.

Makenna rose and gracefully waved her arm in front of her. “Your room is very similar to my own with the exception of your tapestry. It is captivating. I’ve never seen one that portrayed such a pure emotion before. If I were ever to weave, I would want to design a motif such as that,” Makenna ended quietly, unaware that she had voiced her inner thoughts aloud.

Colin exhaled slowly. He was surprised to be relieved by her approval. Deirdre had always made it clear that he was to come to
her
chambers if he desired her company. Consequently, he had never cared if his room appealed to anyone else. He had not realized how much of himself was exposed in this simple sanctum.

A renewed surge of desire swept over Colin. He picked up a log from the stack of dried kindling he had replenished that morning and threw it into the hearth. Long after the fire sprang anew, he continued to stoke it, knowing that if he did not keep his eyes and hands occupied, his control would snap.

Makenna watched as Colin stabbed the burning logs, sensing his palpable frustration. The dying fire was just another example of her clan’s refusal to support and honor an outsider. If he were a Lowlander and welcomed, all candles would have been lit, the bed turned, and the fire would have been blazing with warmth.

Not knowing what to say to counter such a display of disrespect, Makenna walked over and lightly touched Colin’s forearm, marveling at the strength and tension held within the sinewy muscles.

At her touch, Colin flinched, but when Makenna tried to remove her hand, he instinctively reached out and kept it in place. If asked, he would not be able to explain why he wanted to prolong the gentle sensation. He had reacted without thought. Her unexpected gesture was soft, warm, and so very giving. For the second time that day, he felt as if she understood and believed in him.

Makenna stood by his side for a long while and stared at the flickering flames, mystified at her desire to remain with Colin. But it was time to leave. Their ruse should now be complete. Everyone who witnessed their notable exit would trust they had consummated their marriage by now. Makenna released her light hold and headed toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Colin asked, his voice low and curious.

Makenna stopped and turned toward him. “I think it is safe to leave for my room now. I don’t hear any movement outside. Don’t worry, if anyone can roam about this castle unseen, it is I.”

“Of that, I know all too well,” Colin scoffed.

“Don’t sound so churlish. Tonight my skills are going to benefit your deception. No one will be the wiser we spent the night alone.”

“My
benefit?” he asked, turning to look at her.

Makenna nodded. “Aye, yours, and mine, too, if you want to be particular. What does it matter?”

In three quick strides, Colin blocked her path, physically challenging any method she might try in order to exit. “Makenna, do not pretend with me that you do not recall what I said to you last night.”

Makenna did remember. He had vowed their marriage would be real and not in name only. But never did she dream Colin would make good on his promise so soon. Certainly not tonight. Why, just yesterday they had each vehemently sworn the other to be the last person in the world they would want to spend time with, let alone marry.

But then he had kissed her.

It was amazing how a single embrace could change one’s view so dramatically, but it had. Not only had it proved they were compatible physically, but that each held an innate understanding of the other’s most private needs and fears. Still, Makenna could not accept that Colin intended to make good on his promise this very evening.

“But…but this is our wedding night!” she squeaked, not realizing how ridiculous the words sounded.

“Aye, and I have been thinking about you all day,” Colin replied.

“About me?” Her voice was barely a whisper and laced with doubt.

He pushed back a lock of red hair that had become loose from its comb. “Aye, you. Every man in the hall was thinking of you…and they were wishing they were me.”

Makenna blinked. Colin made her sound as if she were some siren able to induce men into desiring her. The concept was unreal. “Colin, be serious….”

“Oh, but I am, Makenna.” Her name was a soft growl as he bent his head to capture her lips with his own. He kissed her slowly, lingeringly, and with a deep, tender possessiveness.

Makenna shivered as a mysterious liquid warmth began to grow inside her. All doubts about whether she had imagined the intensity and pleasure of his touch were erased. For this, she had changed the fate of her life.

Makenna felt Colin strain against an unknown force as he moaned softly and drew her closer to him. The kiss differed from their last, but was no less powerful. Instead of hard and demanding, it was gentle and persuasive. She could feel his tongue move across her bottom lip, teasing it open. She complied, welcoming him.

It was a dream come true. To be touched and kissed and made to feel so very feminine. She didn’t think feelings and cravings like the ones coursing through her veins were even possible until Colin had proved otherwise. He had shown her that she was capable of feeling desire, physical need, and passion. That she was not devoid of such emotions, but burning with them when he held her in his arms.

Colin parted her lips and tenderly explored her mouth with his tongue. Her body was in chaos. Makenna fought the instinct to wrap her arms round his neck and return the intimate caress. She almost lost the battle.

Almost.

With Colin, she was experiencing every dream she had ever wanted from a man. All except one. To be truly desired. No matter how good Colin made her feel now, it would not match the pain of discovering that she was just a surrogate, a live manifestation of what he once had. At the altar, she had thought passion would be enough. And it might be, if he needed
her
and not a substitute for Deirdre.

The second his lips touched hers, Colin knew Makenna wanted him. Her response was too pure, too genuine. Full of longing and innocence, it was more intoxicating than the strongest of ales. If she knew the intensity of his desire to touch and intimately know every inch of her body, she would be terrified. He forced himself to slow down and keep the kiss gentle, exploring the softness of her lips.

He inhaled her sweet scent of wildflowers. Never would he be able to ride through the fields again without thinking of her. He moved to deepen the kiss and immediately sensed a change. Makenna did not pull away, but a tautness filled her that wasn’t there before.

Instantly Colin withdrew. Deirdre had never responded to his kisses the way Makenna had last night. Deirdre had pretended to enjoy them, but deep down he had always known it was toleration—not pleasure—she endured in his arms. Had he needed it to be different with Makenna so badly that he imagined her response?

Colin cupped Makenna’s face and peered into green eyes swirling with doubt and emotion. His fears were immediately assuaged. Despite all their arguments and clashes over her unusual inclinations, he understood her and why she retreated. She was afraid—not of what he might do—but what he thought her to be. She feared being compared.

Colin closed his eyes but didn’t let her go. His new bride had no way of knowing that whenever he touched her, spoke with her, kissed her, the last thing he thought of was his dead wife. It would be impossible to mistake the wild passionate creature in his arms for Deirdre.

Makenna watched him close his eyes and hoped in silence that he would release her and let her leave, but seconds later his deep blue eyes reopened and looked at
her.
He was not remembering his past. Colin was completely in the present, and his sole thoughts were about her. His gaze conveyed such glittering need Makenna felt herself tremble just before he leaned down and recaptured her lips with so much tenderness it seared her senses. She heard a moan escape, and knew it was her own body betraying her. Unable to fight the passionate assault any longer, her fingers clenched his shoulders as she leaned into him, kissing him with a hunger that belied her fears.

Colin felt a calm invade the deep place that had grown tense with apprehension. No longer was Makenna fighting their connection, their physical attraction. She wanted him, and she was admitting it with her actions.

His lips trailed a line of kisses to her ear and whispered, “I will never hurt you, Makenna, but I won’t deny that I want you. Very much. And I believe you want me, too.”

Before she could respond, Colin pulled her body fully against his and kissed her mouth hungrily, thrusting his tongue deep into her velvet warmth. An elemental, dangerous sexual desire was building within him. Never before had his physical need for a woman been so raw and powerful. His power to control it was fading rapidly.

Makenna moaned as he crushed her lips beneath his. The full force of his own hunger broke over her. She returned the kiss with sweet fervor. The inexplicable need to touch him, taste him everywhere was growing to irrepressible levels.

Their first kiss by the loch revealed a need and a connection neither had realized existed. Tonight’s initial embrace had been one of gentle persuasion and soft exploration. This, however, was completely different.

It was two souls, full of feverish desire, which had been deprived of fulfillment for far too long. The result was more intoxicating, more demanding, and far more blatantly erotic.

A sense of urgency was growing beyond her understanding. Passion once buried deep inside her now roared wild and hot through her veins. Makenna instinctively pressed herself against Colin, seeking release from the unknown tension suffusing her body.