Castle Lachlan
Patrick ground his teeth, annoyed to discover he stared out the window of his private work chamber like a besotted fool. The sun shined brightly to the east. He’d barely noticed the men fishing from the beach below, the rippling water of the small bay or the distant heather covered hills. Good Lord, the castle could have been under attack and he wouldn’t have noticed.
Emotions he normally suppressed crippled him, making him uncertain how to proceed. Clenching his hands into fists, he reflected on his earlier conversation with Lady Laurie. She told an incredible tale, one most would not believe. He wasn’t most, and unfortunately, he believed her. He knew, for certain, brownies and faeries existed. He’d even heard some of the fae possessed the ability to sift the sands of time.
Munn told him Caitrina, one of the Sithichean, was in some way involved with both the lass and with his missing parents. Could she sift time? Was it possible she was capable of such an extraordinary power? He hadn’t yet questioned the lass about her connection to the faerie or about the brooch she wore, not wanting to warn her of his interest. He planned to bide his time until he gained her trust.
After seeing her in the bath, he knew how to accomplish that. He was determined to seduce Lady Laurie into sharing his bed.
Smiling at the mental image of her curvy, naked body stretched across the furs on his bed, he loosened his fists and turned away from the window. He paced the chamber. Concern replaced lust. No one had seen Munn since the lass appeared. With such unusual events happening, it was odd the clan brownie had gone missing. Munn’s absence worried him more than he wanted to admit.
An unbidden thought pricked his mind. Could the lass be responsible for Munn’s absence? Quite the riddle he needed to solve.
A heavy knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts. “Who dares disturb my peace?” he bellowed.
From the other side of the thick door came a masculine chuckle. “’Tis Stephen.”
“Enter upon your own peril.”
Stephen ambled into the room. Without invitation, he casually slouched in one of the chairs before the hearth, one leg hooked over the armrest. His focus on the arm of the chair, he rubbed his fingers across the fine wood grain.
“What?” Patrick glared at the back of his cousin’s head.
“You seem to be of bad humor this morn.” Stephen twisted to look at Patrick, meeting his gaze with a grin. “Might you want a challenge on the practice field?”
Patrick stilled. “What have you planned?”
“A fine Lamont warrior has brought a message from his chief, demanding a meeting to finalize your betrothal agreement. After providing victuals, I gave him leave to train with our lads. I thought you might enjoy a wee bit of sport.”
There was no betrothal! When would Lamont accept that?
Patrick slammed his palm on the oak mantel. “Aye, I will show the Lamont dog how a good Highlander fights and send him back to his chief less than a man.” He stormed from the chamber.
Stephen followed, keeping pace, first to the armory then to the practice field where Patrick planned to grind the Lamont warrior into the dirt.
* * *
Laurie lifted the skirt of the blue gown as she stepped over a raised threshold into the kitchen. She’d spent the morning touring the castle with Elspeth. The ginger-haired Duncan, her new shadow, always a step behind.
She learned from him that the MacLachlans were extremely proud of their home. Of a unique design, the castle was unusual for Scotland. From the outside, it appeared a great stone keep, but on the inside, it actually consisted of two separate wings along the east and west sides of a narrow courtyard. The wings connected at the north end by a small building and passageway, the building mainly used for storage and for housing the castle well.
The two wings contained both public rooms for the clan and private apartments for the chief’s household. The chamber Laurie slept in the night before was on the third floor of the western wing, the top floor with a view of the sea-loch in one direction and a small bay in the other. The largest bedchamber in the castle, it belonged to Patrick, the current Chief of Clan MacLachlan.
The knowledge he was the chief of a great Highland clan was somewhat daunting. Butterflies flew around in her belly as if caught in a whirling storm. She didn’t want to think about him, especially not about the incredible kiss they shared. Not thinking about him wasn’t an option. She couldn’t seem to get his image out of her head.
When she did let her mind linger on him for any length of time, she felt a powerful longing to be near him, to touch him, to do incredibly sexual things with him.
“Argh,” she actually growled out loud.
Cookie, the MacLachlan’s rotund female cook, and Elspeth stopped their discussion of the midday meal preparations to stare at her.
“Lady Laurie, did you say something?” Elspeth asked.
“Nothing.” Laurie’s cheeks flamed. She hadn’t meant for anyone to overhear her. “It’s annoying to have Duncan following my every step.” She glared in his direction.
He didn’t take offense. He merely grinned and presented her with a formal bow.
Elspeth pulled her aside by the arm. “’Tis for your protection. You are new to the castle and dinnae ken the dangers that exist. When you are more accustomed to life here, I am sure Patrick will release Duncan from his duty. Jamie only guards me when my brother believes there is an extreme risk.”
“What you mean to say is when Patrick decides he can trust me to obey his every command he might allow me modest freedom.” She sounded petulant, but she couldn’t help it. It had been bad enough over the years to be under her uncle’s control and then her cousin Finn’s. To be ordered about by a total stranger was more than infuriating.
“Aye.” Elspeth cocked a brow. “He expects obedience. ’Tis for your protection. You dinnae understand our way of life. I am sure your life was much different in France.” Her gaze darted with warning toward Cookie.
Laurie caught the subtle signal and dropped the subject. She lowered her head, covertly stole a glance at Duncan and suppressed a smile. He was one of those huge muscle-bound guys, the kind of guy born with an extra Y-chromosome. The kind of guy who intimidated most women and some men. The kind of guy you’d want at your back in a fight. And, after a few hours in his company, she’d learned he was a big, sweet, teddy bear. If she had to have a guard, at least she could deal with this one.
The muffled blare of a horn sounded from somewhere atop the walls. The kitchen staff stilled for a moment then switched gears to overdrive.
“’Tis time for the noon meal,” Elspeth said.
They left the kitchen, allowing Cookie to complete her final preparations. They strolled into the courtyard and ascended the wheel stair to the hall.
On the first floor, the hall occupied the entire length of the western wing. A large hearth, tall enough for a man to stand in and wide enough to accommodate several men, was the prominent feature along one of the walls, although no fire burned today. Silence followed in their wake as she followed Elspeth across the stone floor toward the dais platform. When Laurie glanced at the staring people seated at the tables, they looked away. As soon as she sat next to Elspeth at the head table, whispers began.
Laurie inhaled a deep breath. She ignored the stares and took in the beauty of the castle. Until she escaped, she planned to immerse herself in the culture. Maybe she’d write a book when she returned home. It would need to be a work of fiction, who would believe the truth?
Duncan hovered over her like a nursemaid, but when friends hailed him, he joined a group of rowdy warriors at one of the lower tables.
She scanned the room, looking for Patrick, hoping he wouldn’t make an appearance.
Not finding him among the men, she glanced at the light penetrating the smoky haze from the high windows. At least six feet off the floor, the windows contained leaded-glass fixed into the stone on the lower half, and wooden shutters on the upper half. Additional lighting and the annoying smoke came from candles atop tall iron stands positioned around the room. They cast a sickly yellow glow on the many tapestries covering the gray stone of the walls.
Elspeth tapped her arm and leaned in close. “We wait for Patrick.”
Well, that settled it. He would be here soon enough. Part of her couldn’t wait to see him. The other part determined to ignore him.
Chattering in the room escalated. Laurie inwardly cringed, certain the chatter was speculation about her arrival.
The door opened, and a man who resembled Duncan hurried in. Messy copper-red hair bobbed as he strode across the floor to the head table, stopping in front of Elspeth. A hush fell over the room.
“Lady Elspeth.” He inclined his head. “The Chief, he instructed me to come directly to you. I am to inform you he will not be joining you for the midday meal. He wishes you to begin the serving.”
Elspeth laughed. “Why Jamie MacEwen, what is keeping my brother from his meal this time?”
The man’s gaze wandered around the room before landing back on Elspeth. “He is teaching a lesson to a Lamont on the training field.”
Most of the men in the room jumped to their feet. Tables and chairs scuffed across the stone floor, some falling in the men’s haste to rush from the hall. Jamie made a swift bow to Elspeth and ran out after them.
“What was that about?” Laurie asked.
“Naught for us to worry over.” Elspeth calmly gestured to Cookie for the serving to begin.
Lunch was a hearty fish stew heavily seasoned with herbs. Smoked trout and spring greens followed, accompanied by wine. Wine, which had been watered to reduce its potency. Laurie would have much preferred a nice Californian pinot noir with the trout, but the food was surprisingly tasty and enjoyable. At least she wouldn’t starve to death while she figured out how to return home.
Duncan remained behind when the other men ran out. With the meal finished, he approached the dais platform upon a signal from Elspeth.
“We go to the garden,” she said. “Will you escort us?”
“Lady Elspeth, you ken gey fine ’tis my duty to guard the chief’s new lady-love. You dinnae need to ask.” He presented a broad grin, his eyes filled with merriment.
“I’m not his lady-love,” Laurie blurted through clenched teeth in an overly loud voice.
The room fell quiet as the remaining folk stared at her. Heat raced to her cheeks. Idiot. She should be more careful. The last thing she needed was unwanted attention.
While she silently chastised herself, a ruckus came from outside the door and all heads turned in expectation. Patrick swaggered into the hall followed by his men. He wore a large grin on his dirt-smudged face and his chestnut hair stuck to the sides of his cheeks with sweat. His plaid was filthy and blood stained the front of his shirt.
Her chest tightened at the sight of the blood. Had he been injured?
He glared across the room at her. His dark eyes burned with anger. She cringed. He must have heard what she said. He sauntered to the dais, keeping his gaze locked on her. Jumping onto the platform, he strode directly to her, grasped her hand, and held her fingers in a tight grip. He yanked her from her seat, forced her to stand beside him, tucked tight against his side, held in place with one strong arm around her waist.
She tried to pull away, but he wouldn’t allow it. Her nose twitched and she shrank back from him. He smelled worse than the men’s locker room at her old athletic club after a rugby match.
With Lady Laurie’s denial burning in his mind, Patrick was rougher with the lass than proper. Battle lust rode him hard. He wasn’t about to be denied by a mere slip of a lass. He would teach her a lesson. A lesson he thoroughly planned to enjoy.
Facing the crowd, he held her tight, waiting for silence. In a thunderous voice, everyone in the room would be sure to hear, he said, “I have sent the Lamont dog back to his master with his tail betwixt his legs.”
His clan cheered, stomping their feet and pounding their fists on the tables. Again, he waited for silence. Firmly holding onto Laurie, he ignored her struggles to escape his grip. When the crowd calmed, he cleared his throat.
All eyes riveted to the couple on the dais.
“I present to you the Lady Laurie Bernard.” He held her hand out in front of them so the crowd was sure to see he clasped it. “She has come to us from France to be companion to my wee sister, Lady Elspeth. Hear me. She is under my protection and shall be treated as my honored guest.”
Laurie subtly tried to free herself, but he easily held her in place. He flipped her hand palm up, bowed his head and placed a kiss in the center, licking her palm with the tip of his tongue.
Her gasp made him chuckle. He released her and boldly surveyed the room. Patrick grinned with satisfaction. Although there were a few grumbles, this public demonstration confirmed the castle rumors better than any other could. Those present knew, for certain, he claimed this woman as his own.
As his mistress, she’d be safe—provided she remained within the clan.
Still shivering from the sensation of his velvety tongue gliding over her palm, Laurie glanced around the hall. Everyone stared, many with smirks, while others harbored hostile expressions on their infuriated faces.
Mortified, she stepped down hard on the bridge of his foot. He chuckled at her lame attempt to hurt him. She wished she wore heels instead of soft China flats. Stilettos. Something that would do damage.
When he released her and stepped away, Elspeth leaned close to whisper. “Curtsy.”
Laurie wanted to slap the grin off Patrick’s arrogant face. Instead, she inhaled a bracing breath, swallowed her pride, executed a clumsy curtsy, and nearly fell to the floor.
He caught her arm in time to stop her from landing hard. “Now the whole clan kens you belong to me,” he said in a quiet voice, thankfully only she heard.
He’d the nerve to laugh, the hearty sound echoing through the hall. She wanted to spit in his face or knee him in the gonads. Feeling her temper escalate, yet knowing she dare not make a scene, she glared at the jerk.
Proud of himself, he kept eye contact with her for several long minutes, meeting her challenge with one of his own. Finally, his lips thinned and he released her arm, turning his attention to his sister. “I wish to have a bath sent to my bedchamber. I expect Lady Laurie to attend me. Will you see to it?”
Elspeth gave her brother a strange look before her usual serene smile returned to her lips. She rose from her seat and executed a perfect curtsy. “Lady Laurie, please come with me. I will explain what is expected.”
Feeling as if she were tossing about in a gyrating washing machine, Laurie followed Elspeth from the hall. She worried her lower lip. What did Patrick plan? What would he expect of her? She was sure whatever he proposed she wouldn’t like.