The Highland Laird's Bride Read online

  In the months ahead, with more nights like that, how would he feel? Wasteful to think such thoughts, since nothing could be done, no matter how he felt. He had a duty to his clan and they, too, needed his protection.

  Yet Lioslath was more than he could have known. He underestimated her. In every sense. Her beauty; her resolve. Her bravery in facing the English alone. So alone. How could this woman have ever been left alone?

  Especially this morning. Her hair stood on end and was completely flat on one side. He felt like tunnelling his fingers through it, kissing her soft lips and staying exactly where they were all day long. Those repeating thoughts were just as dangerous as anything else. He needed to leave. Immediately. ‘I’ll be outside.’

  ‘What makes you think I’ll come?’

  ‘Because you have skills, love, and you’ll want to show them off.’

  * * *

  Lioslath didn’t know how she felt as Bram, chuckling, left the room. She didn’t understand his easy laughter. She didn’t understand his wanting to hunt together. It surprised her. After him expecting her to be the clan’s mistress and lady of the keep, he offered this instead.

  Confusing Colquhoun, but she did know how she felt about hunting. The familiar excitement, the yearning and the absolute necessity of it.

  She got out of bed as Dog sauntered in for a greeting. He hadn’t liked her moving to the bedroom since her father died and she didn’t know how he felt about Bram sharing the room. But he licked her hand, so she did her favourite thing with him. Took each of his ears and rubbed up to their tips. She luxuriated in the softness of them when the rest of his fur was bristled like his personality.

  When he rubbed his head against her arm, she leaned down and rubbed her head with his. Oh, she missed him, missed their time together. When he suddenly stilled, she let him go. He was wild and she needed to get dressed.

  The sun was not up, but the darkness was already lessening and she hurried to find Bram outside the passage. His clothing was various shades of brown and he tied his hair back. He couldn’t hide the colour, but like this, he almost blended in.

  No, he couldn’t blend in, merely standing with his back to her, he had a presence that couldn’t be ignored. How was she to tempt birds to her lime sticks if he was nearby? Then he turned to her and smiled, and she wasn’t irritated by his easy ways. For once, she felt as though she understood that smile; for the first time, she felt like smiling, too.

  ‘Did you bring food?’ she asked. It was customary for the hunting party to bring a breakfast and she had forgotten.

  ‘Nae worries, I have food. Where is your dog?’

  ‘At home or in the woods on the other side of the fields. He knows not to come with me today.’

  ‘How?’

  She shrugged. ‘Most likely because you are here.’

  Bram looked away, a crease between his brows as if what she had said troubled him.

  It didn’t bother her that Dog wasn’t with them. She wanted this time with Bram. Their marriage and the way he made her feel was a surprise.

  His reaction, silent, stunned, when she told him of the English’s arrival was a surprise. Then last night in their marriage bed. She knew there was more to consummate their marriage. Knew he had not found the same pleasure as she.

  But they didn’t know each other well. She thought, perhaps, he was being patient with her. If so, he was more considerate and kind than she had thought him.

  He teased her about taking her hunting today, but she couldn’t help thinking it had to do with her telling him of the English raid. That she shared something painful with him and he was giving something back.

  No one had done that for her before.

  Maybe today, they could understand each other more. She appreciated his patience, but she still wanted a kiss.

  Why hadn’t they kissed? For a moment this morning, she thought he’d wanted to, but then he laughed and wished her to ready herself. She couldn’t dress fast enough. She was outside, free and no longer idle. She was here to hunt and she wanted to show him what she could do.

  They reached the outer edge of the forest. They’d have to travel far into the trees to get any decent hunting in. They’d also need to be quiet, so she stopped. ‘What food did you bring?’

  He reached into the satchel at his side and pulled out a fresh loaf of bread and strips of boar.

  ‘I doona suppose Cook gave you that loaf?’ she said.

  ‘Didn’t see her there.’

  ‘She won’t be happy when she learns of this.’

  He took a bite of bread. ‘I won’t be happy until she learns how to make bread.’

  ‘What’s wrong with it?’

  ‘You’re picking out stones from it.’

  She shrugged. She was just happy to have food and plenty of it. Because it was getting late in the season, she worried about the hunt today. So far she’d been catching thrush and pigeons to fill their empty stores. Now she knew they’d need something more. Maybe a red deer.

  ‘Bread’s not made with stones and burnt on one side. Cheese isn’t supposed to fall apart like it does here and broth with soup is to have flavour. It doesn’t have to be this way.’

  She was glad to be hunting, but she didn’t want to hear Bram’s complaints. Was he supposed to complain, when this was his clan as well as hers? ‘I doona care for...keep matters. Besides, this clan’s cooking is now yours. We doona have the—’

  ‘Nae, lass, you misunderstand me,’ he interrupted. ‘My concerns have nothing to do with Fergusson resources. Although stones in the bread can be avoided with the proper milling, sifting and baking. I aim to repair that this winter, but not because of me. It’s for you. And I know you doona care for matters involving the keep. You’re barely inside enough to see cobwebs let alone be concerned about them. But that isn’t my point either. What I want to say is there is better bread, there are better things, for you.’

  To cover her sudden unease at Bram’s kindness, she took a drink of water. She was unused to such consideration, although...she was beginning to believe she deserved more. That Fate didn’t hate her or her clan. Bram was making her believe, but experience taught her to be cautious.

  His offering kindness and talking of her deserving more was almost worse than his complaints. ‘What would I know of better things? This is the way life is, this is the way bread is and siege warlords from different clans telling me there’s something different won’t change anything. Especially one who thinks life is easy.’

  ‘Life isn’t easy. It’s never easy. But how we look at it, how we approach it, can be.’

  Could it be as easy as that? No matter what they shared in the stables and again last night, it seemed sudden, so how could she trust it? The loss of the past year, her anger at Bram for her father’s death, her need for revenge when he didn’t come to protect them. Her clan hurting, hungry, desperate. How could a simple marriage and him taking her hunting suddenly ease her pain and anger of the past year? It was too easy.

  She shrugged. ‘We need to set traps along these runs before we go any deeper into the forest.’

  Bram had never met anyone so difficult and he couldn’t concentrate on the traps they were setting, not when Lioslath purposefully ignored him. Not when she knelt in the damp forest floor to secure each vine.

  He was riveted. It was how she closed her eyes and breathed in the pungent foliage and mist swirling around them. She loved her home and the lands surrounding it.

  He had insulted her again with his food comments. It wouldn’t matter that he did it because he hadn’t liked her picking stones from her bread. But it did matter that she believed she didn’t deserve better.

  ‘Let me do that one,’ he said, when the vine wouldn’t secure to the anchor.

  ‘I can do it,’ she said, as the contorted stick snap
ped.

  He’d spent enough time with Gaira to know not to say anything, but he could do nothing about his expression.

  ‘Are you laughing?’

  ‘Nae, but would you allow me to tunnel just here?’ He pointed with his foot to where the ground was well-packed. She’d found a good animal trail.

  Standing, she handed him part of the woven vine. He found a sharp rock to dig deeper into the dirt so the stick wouldn’t snap.

  ‘I’d think you’d be better at this than you are,’ he teased.

  ‘I am,’ she retorted. ‘I proved that at the competition.’

  ‘Nae, I mean the tunnelling part.’ He had to look up at her to gather her expression. Guilt and unease on how to reply, but there was hurt there as well.

  ‘I understood it,’ he said, softening his words. ‘You’ve been maintaining it to get away from your family, true? That’s why you wanted to keep it as a secret.’

  ‘Do we need to talk of this?’ She handed him a new stick to pound into the ground.

  They didn’t ever need to talk of it. Come spring, he’d be gone. But it didn’t stop him wanting to know. ‘I have family, too. I didn’t have a tunnel, but there were times I wish I had.’

  She sighed heavily and looked away. ‘I doona use it to get away from my family now. I laboured to maintain it because my stepmother would lock me in the room beneath the floorboards.’

  He hadn’t known. With legs and knees shaking, he stood and brushed the dirt off his hands, ready to provide comfort and to hold her. But her eyes, now alight, weren’t on his.

  ‘Here, hold these,’ she said. She handed him her satchel and bow and arrows before walking quickly to a tree, grabbing the lowest branch and hauling herself up.

  Often a member of the hunting party climbed a tree to spy the choicest sport, but he hadn’t expected her to do it so swiftly. He couldn’t dismiss her skills now, when he wanted to clutch her to him and she was spotting fresh game tracks.

  ‘Where are they?’ His breath hitched as she leaned out from the last branch.

  ‘Off to your far left,’ she whispered.

  He didn’t look where she pointed while she shimmied down the trunk. When she was safely in front of him, with one arm he pulled her close.

  ‘The tracks,’ she whispered.

  Bram noticed her heart flutter. Oh, he liked her short hair. Liked that they could share the forest.

  He didn’t like the stories she kept telling him. ‘Lioslath? I didn’t know the tunnel—’

  ‘I doona want to talk of it,’ she said.

  ‘Why did you tell me?’

  ‘You told me of Irvette...and we’re married now. But I can’t say any more.’

  He didn’t want to let go. There was heartache in her trembling voice. But he, too, wanted them to share a carefree day.

  ‘I want this day, too,’ he answered. For now, it would be enough.

  Taking a couple steps away, her eyes not meeting his, she pointed. ‘There’s fresh deer spoor. I thought it was too late in the season, but I saw the herd beyond the next hill. The wind’s in our favour and they are all mature enough.’

  ‘How mature?’ Mature red deer had prongs.

  She shrugged again. ‘Enough. Better for us.’

  Better for them meant very mature and definitely dangerous.

  Her hunting was unexpected. Everything about her was. Even in this brief time together, he could see she didn’t take care of the manor, or the food, or the general household. With her hunting, however, she came alive...shined.

  ‘How did you become skilled at this?’

  ‘Hunting?’ She shrugged. ‘Aindreas’s father taught us. He’s an excellent tracker.’

  He suddenly didn’t care about hunting or tracking. ‘Aindreas. You’ve done this with him?’

  ‘Aye, I wouldn’t go after large game by myself.’

  ‘Dressed like that?’

  ‘Of course I wear these.’ She gestured to her clothes clinging to her thighs. She passed him and headed further into the forest. ‘Have you ever hunted in a dress?’

  He didn’t like that Aindreas had been here with her like this. Didn’t like that Aindreas had seen her haul herself up a tree or slide down. She was his wife.

  Temporarily. All of this was temporary. He had duties to protect his clan. He had to return. It didn’t matter even if he could stay. She didn’t want him. She married him only because her clan needed her to. She wanted him gone and showed him so several times. Yet he felt uneasy, knowing that when he was gone, Aindreas would still be here.

  Balance. He had to find it again...as he always found it. Through humour, through distraction. ‘Actually I have.’

  Lioslath stopped. ‘You have what?’

  ‘Hunted in a dress.’

  There formed another crease between her brows and he grinned to see it. ‘It was rumoured I hunted all my life, even when I was in my mother’s womb.’

  She almost smiled then and he wanted to see more. He shouldn’t want to see more.

  ‘So you’re saying you like it here?’ she asked.

  ‘Being here amongst the trees? Aye.’ He kicked the dirt, needing the distraction from Lioslath’s almost-smile. ‘You come here often as well. Have you taken your brothers?’

  ‘They never asked,’ she said.

  ‘Never asked? When Gillean wants a hunter’s knife and Eoin asks my men how they earned their scars?’

  She turned her head quickly as if she saw something he could not see. ‘We need to hunt and I need you to be quiet.’

  When she walked deeper into the forest, he let her. She was avoiding his questions and it was probably for the best. He had questions for Lioslath, but with this marriage, he didn’t deserve answers. He didn’t want to think that maybe she needed distractions from marriage nights like him. That wouldn’t help matters at all.

  When she reached a copse of trees with low shrubs, she stopped, and he exhaled. Loudly. She gave him a look and he grinned.

  ‘You stay here,’ she whispered.

  ‘You will not stay with me?’

  Bram was teasing her again. Teasing, even after he asked about her siblings and her tunnel. Grave matters she didn’t want to talk of today.

  Though he teased and laughed, she was beginning to believe he understood her. It was his liking the forest and hunting. It was his understanding her need for the tunnel, and her need not to talk about it. There was an accord beginning between them she didn’t expect and which she couldn’t trust. Not yet. Wishing for a better life for her and her clan, she married him. But she’d been disappointed too many times in the past. She needed time before she would depend on him.

  So she tried to ignore his steady gait and the way he watched her. She also tried to ignore when he made his jests or when he was purposefully too loud.

  But she couldn’t ignore his voice, which sent shivers down her, or the way he asked her to stay with him, which reminded her of last night and his anchoring arm.

  ‘You’re going to remain here,’ she said. ‘And be quiet and still.’

  He was right that she wanted to show off, but it wouldn’t happen if she simply stared at him until she admitted his voice affected her. ‘You’re either hunting with me or not. Either you’re dependable or you can go home,’ she said.

  ‘Oh, I’m dependable,’ he said. With a too-confident grin, Bram leaned back against a tree.

  Lioslath strode to another tree, where the wind was in her favour, and she adjusted herself until she was comfortable. It could be hours before anything approached them. There was nothing more they could do but stay quiet, stay still and wait.

  Waiting had never been an issue before. Now, however, it held some...expectation. A feeling of anticipation that shivered over her skin. She didn’t ha
ve to guess why.

  It was Bram, who was as still as the tree he leaned against. It was the fact that before she left he brushed his hand against hers. That simple caress had unerringly spread to the rest of her, too. She swore she felt it now.

  He tied his hair back at the base of his neck. Between that and the dampness of the morning, she didn’t have to worry about its colour giving away their position. His clothes, too, for once were of a dark colour, which surprised her. Ever since he’d arrived at the keep, he’d worn coloured clothes. As if he wanted to impress her with the Colquhoun wealth.

  She hadn’t thought he owned clothes like the ones he currently wore. Dark, the fine weave cutting across his form like a second skin. He seemed comfortable and they suited him more than his stiffer clothing. If so, why had he been wearing the other clothes all these weeks?

  She preferred him looking this way. She preferred what he showed her of himself. Indomitable, too easy with his laughter, but also his patience and kindness.

  She...desired him. It was there in her shortness of breath, in how her eyes constantly strayed to him. It was in her heated blood as she remembered last night.

  It was in his watchful gaze. There was a certain core of quietude within him that held his vibrancy steady.

  The trees were like that. Holding still, strong, but cradling a burst of life within. She could breathe with her trees. And she was finding with Bram, when he was outside with her, she could breathe with him, too.

  Watching Bram watch her, she almost missed the movement to her left as the deer entered the little copse.

  Disjointed, relieved her thoughts had kept her still, she aimed and let the arrow fly.

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Tell me what happened when the English came,’ Bram said.