Highlander's Wicked Game: Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance Novel Page 5

  “As am I, lass. Yer faither sent his best warriors tae find ye, but they took another path. I hope they tae were able tae find shelter from the storm.”

  When he breathed, the muscles in his abdomen rose and fell in rippling waves. His skin glistened in the firelight making it look as though it danced beneath her fingertips. His chest hairs tickled her fingers, and she reveled in the glorious warmth of him. Thunder rolled overhead, shaking the croft once more, and she clung to him in fear, afraid that the croft might fall down around them.

  “Ye are safe now, lass. Nothin’ will harm ye as long as I am here with ye.” He stroked her hand upon his chest, intertwining his fingers with hers in a most intimate way.

  His words and touch soothed her, and she melted into him, surrendering unto him her trust. “Ye are a good man tae show concern for yer enemies.”

  “Ye are no’ my enemy, lass. Ye could ne’er be such.”

  “As ye could ne’er be mine.” She looked up at his face, tracing the rugged features with her eyes. His chin was covered in stubble, giving him a ruggedly roguish appearance. His eyes shone a brilliant blue even in the dim light of the fire, kind and seductive. Marra could not help but to fall under his spell. Her skin tingled with the nearness of their blanket clad bodies. It was tantalizing beyond measure to lay with him in such a fashion. She had never before shared such intimate contact with any man, and she was not certain how to comport herself. She found that she desired things she had never before allowed herself to consider.

  “Get some rest. We will leave as soon as the weather clears,” he advised, leaning his head back against the wall.

  Marra noted that he had laid his sword next to the bed so that he might grab it easily were it needed. She felt safe in his arms. She allowed herself to relax and laid her head on his chest. Closing her eyes, she listened to the beat of his heart and slowly drifted off to sleep, praying that the rain would end, while simultaneously praying that it never did. Locked in his arms she gave herself over to oblivion.

  Duncan lay with Marra in his arms wondering at how easy it had been to find her. Her kidnappers had barely made any attempts to hide their tracks. The only thing that had proven to be even slightly difficult was the stream crossing wherein the trail went off both directions. Even that divergence had done little to protect their whereabouts as a hound could have easily uncovered the proper path to take just as his hound had done. He looked down at her sleeping face and marveled at the creamy perfection of her features. Her crimson tresses streamed down his chest as tiny feathery caresses. His body stirred fiercely at her nearness, but he ignored its urgings as to move would wake her. He turned his attention back to her captors.

  Why did they take her as they did and no’ bother tae conceal it? Marra’s words about the man having a desire to be the laird of a clan came to mind. What would takin’ the MacDonald laird’s daughter have tae do with becomin’ laird o’ any clan. Nae laird would e’er give up their place within the clan o’er such a thing. The only thing that takin’ her has accomplished is tae nearly bring the Clan MacDonald and my own tae war.

  Duncan caressed Marra’s hair as he listened to the storm outside. It had not let up. In fact, it had only increased in intensity. The wind howled all around them, thunder reverberated through the sky. Marra startled as a particularly loud crack of thunder shook the earth. Her eyes opened, and she looked up to ensure that he was still there. “All is well, lass. Go back tae sleep,” he soothed.

  “My grandmaither once told me that our family came from the Norse god o’ thunder. She claimed that my red hair was a gift from Thor himself.”

  “I had heard such rumors about the Clan MacDonald descending from the Norse invaders.” He smiled at her words. “Ye are as bonnie as any goddess could e’er be.”

  She blushed. “’Tis no’ but fantastical tales. My grandmaither was verra fond o’ the auld ways.”

  “As am I,” Duncan admitted. He longed for the days when his family had been free to bear their own surname and not that of their enemies. She thinks I am a Campbell. He looked into her eyes and wondered if he told her the truth how she would feel. Would she keep our secret or reveal all and lead tae us bein’ murdered in our beds?

  They had much in their lives that were similar. They had both lost their mothers at a young age, their fathers hated each other with a passion that was fiery, they were both their father’s only remaining children, and unbeknownst to her, they both shared an enemy in the Clan Campbell. In the old days before King James had outlawed the MacGregor name, their fathers would have banded together to fight the Campbells, instead of fighting one another. E’en if I bring Marra back, there is a chance that her faither will still try tae kill me.

  Marra’s even breathing told him that she had fallen into slumber once more. Duncan leaned his head back against the wall and stared into the flames. He had always planned on finding another MacGregor to wed so that the secret would always be safe. He thought he had found that in Marra. He had not planned on falling for the daughter of his father’s enemy, but with every breath she took against his skin, the further he fell for her. Now that I have found her, I cannae simply return her tae her faither and walk away, but Angus MacDonald will ne’er give his permission for a Campbell tae marry his daughter, let alone an outlawed MacGregor. Perhaps if he apprehended the man responsible for taking her then the MacDonald laird would reconsider his position on Duncan’s family.

  While searching for a needle to sew up the wound on Marra’s head, he had looked for signs of who might have taken her. There were no identifying features in the croft that pointed to any one person. The only clue he did have was that the croft was on Campbell lands. Who else other than he had kenned where Marra was tae be that day? Other than myself, there was Marra’s maid and my cousin Lachlan, but neither o’ them would e’er do anythin’ o’ the kind. Did someone follow her, lyin’ in wait tae take her at the earliest opportunity, or was it random chance? Perchance they will return, and I will catch them in the act.

  Marra stirred, murmuring in her sleep. She was dreaming and frightened. Duncan tightened his arms around her. “Dinnae fash, lass. I am here and all is well.” He kissed the top of her head and tenderly caressed her face. “Sleep sweet, my bonnie.” Closing his eyes he drifted off to sleep.

  Sometime later he awoke to Marra quietly crawling out of bed attempting not to wake him. He assumed she needed to relieve herself and did not wish to embarrass her any more than he already had. The storm still raged outside, and when she opened the door, it slammed against the wall with the force of the wind. A few moments later, he heard a squeal of surprise. Duncan opened his eyes to ensure that she was well and that her captors had not been so foolish as to return in such weather. Not seeing her, he arose and moved to the open door. What he found there stopped him in his tracks.

  Holy Maither o’ God!

  There standing in the rain was Marra, bathing, completely naked. Her hands moved over her body cleansing it of the dirt from her time lying upon the floor. Duncan stood mesmerized by the sight. He could not remember ever seeing anything so innocently provocative in his entire life. The effect she had on him was instant and intense. His body sprang to life with such force that he gripped the side of the doorframe to steady himself. He desired her more fiercely than he had ever desired another. She lifted her arms to wash her hair, causing her breasts to rise. She squealed again as the cold water rained down on her sensitive flesh. Duncan smiled and managed to move back away from the door before she caught him staring at her. He moved back over to the bed and pretended to be asleep, but kept his eyes open just a sliver to ensure her continued safety.

  Marra entered the croft wrapped once more in her blanket. She walked over to the fireplace, glanced his direction to ensure that he was still asleep, then she donned her dry clothing. She sat down in the chair and stared into the flames. She brushed her hair out with her fingers and laid it behind her over the back of the chair to dry. A look of concern crossed h
er face, and Duncan could not resist asking what was on her mind.

  “Are ye well, lass?”

  “Aye,” she lied, glancing at him. She blushed apparently embarrassed that she had been caught unawares.

  “Forgive me, but I dinnae believe ye, lass. The look on yer face tells a different tale.”

  “I was just thinkin’ about how this would be the last time I e’er saw ye. Once ye return me tae my faither, he will ne’er allow me tae see ye again. I have lived such a guarded life with ne’er a choice tae be made for myself. He has decided that I will marry a laird or no’ at all, but I dinnae wish tae do so. I verra much doubt that yer faither would be pleased about our agreeing tae meet each other either.”

  “Aye. My faither will be less than pleased as well, but I dinnae share his thoughts. I have nae intention o’ lettin’ ye go and ne’er seein’ ye again.”

  “How? My faither would be all tae happy tae kill ye and yer entire clan with his bare hands.”

  “I dinnae ken, but I will no’ let ye go now that I have found ye.” Duncan stood up from the bed and walked over to her. He pulled her up from the chair and wrapped his arms around her. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and he leaned down to kiss it away. Marra turned her face up to him, and he gently kissed her lips. He caressed her face as another tear spilled over her lashes and cascaded down to disappear in her hair. “Dinnae fash, my bonnie. We will find a way.”

  As the storm continued to rage outside, they spent the day talking and doing what they could to make the croft a more comfortable place. Duncan went out to the lean-to to tend to his pony and hound. Fortunately the lean-to had grown over in its neglected state providing plenty of grass for fodder. Upon returning to the croft, he stood in front of the fire to dry himself. Marra brought him a bannock from his bag, and they sat and ate together in silence for a time. When they were done, it was she who spoke her mind.

  “There is a part o’ me that wishes we could stay here together and ne’er leave.”

  “Aye. I have had those thoughts myself.”

  “Before ye came to rescue me, this place was an absolute terror tae me, but once ye were here that all changed. I ken that I must return tae avoid our clans goin’ tae war, but part o’ me prays that the rain ne’er stops.”

  “I ken the feelin’ all tae well, lass.”

  “I dinnae want ye tae die for my sake, and I fear when ye return me tae my faither that it will nae be enough tae assuage his anger at my disobedience. ‘Tis my own doin’, but he will blame ye for temptin’ me tae dishonor.”

  Duncan grinned. “’Tis ye that does the temptin’, lass.” An image of her washing naked in the rain flashed through his mind. He longed to reach out and take her into his arms once more, but he refrained, for fear that he might not be able to restrain himself.

  Marra smiled and blushed. “Does it make me a wanton if I say I am glad that I tempt ye?”

  “Nae, it does no’. Ye could tempt a blind man tae sin, lass. Yer voice is like honey tae a man’s ears. Yer spirit is bonnie, wild and unbroken. Ye draw a man in and there is no’ anythin’ ye or he can do tae save him. From the moment I laid eyes on ye, I kenned right then and there that I would ne’er be the same again. I was good and truly lost.”

  Marra stood and timidly took him by the hand. He allowed her to lead him over to the bed, and they both crawled beneath the blankets together. He was afraid to touch her for fear that once he began he would not be able to stop, and he did not wish to rob her of her virtue. When he took her he would do so because they had pledged themselves to one another for life. She reached out and traced his features with her finger, lingering at his lips. The sensation was more than he could bear. Duncan took her hand in his and kissed each of her fingers, her palm, her wrist, and then her lips. The next thing he knew he had pulled her to him.

  “My bonnie,” he murmured against her lips as his hands roved her body.

  “Oh, Duncan,” she cried out as his fingers brushed across her breasts.

  The sound nearly drove him out of his mind with need. He pressed his rock hard length against her, unable to resist the feel of her. “Oh, my bonnie, lass,” he whispered into her neck. His breath against the soft heated flesh caused her to shiver in delight. He covered her with his body, and she parted her knees to him pressing herself against him in response to his caress. “Marra,” he groaned as her body formed perfectly to his own. Had they been in a state of undress as they had been the night before, he would have taken her right then and there. Warning bells went off inside of his head that they were dangerously close to the precipice of giving way to their desires. Marra met his every touch with passionate fervor. Gone was the timid, blushing innocent and in her place was a wildly passionate storm of need.

  Gathering every ounce of strength he possessed, Duncan pushed her away from him and held her at arm’s length. “Marra, lass, we cannae do this. I will no’ take yer innocence in this manner. When I have ye, it will be for forever, and there will be nae turnin’ back.”

  Marra’s eyes were glazed with a combination of passion and hurt. He had hurt her with his rejection, which had been the furthest thing from what he wished to do. He did not wish to harm her in any way and that included taking her virginity when it was not his to have... yet.

  “I… I’m sorry,” she stammered blushing.

  “Ye have nothin’ tae be sorry for, lass.”

  “I have ne’er felt this way afore ye. Ye bring out somethin’ in me I did no’ ken was possible,” she admitted shyly, averting her eyes in embarrassment.

  Duncan lifted her chin and met her eyes. “Ye do the same tae me, lass.”

  “I do?”

  “Aye, ye do.” He smiled, brushing the hair back from her face. “I want ye more than anythin’ I have e’er wanted afore, and someday, I will have ye, my bonnie, but it will be the honorable way.” Duncan cradled her in the crook of his arm, her head upon his chest.

  “Faither will ne’er allow it, Duncan.”

  “We will find a way.”

  Chapter Eight

  Come the morning, Duncan and Marra awoke to find that the worst of the storm had passed. Though it was still raining, the intensity had lessened, the wind had died down, and the lightening had ceased. “It is time,” Duncan announced as he stared out of the open door.

  “When I was brought here against my will I wanted nothin’ more than tae return tae my faither’s castle. Now I dinnae wish tae leave,” Marra admitted.

  They began to pick up their few belongings and put out what little remained of the embers in the fireplace to keep the croft from accidentally catching fire. Duncan went out to get his pony and hound from the lean-to and brought them over to the front door of the croft. He mounted and pulled Marra up in front of him. “Are ye ready lass?”

  Sighing she nodded her head. “Aye.”

  They descended the mountain, heading back toward the stream where he had separated from the MacDonald warriors, then followed the stream down to the point where he had originally lost the trail. Darkness fell and through the gloom they caught sight of the glow of a fire in the near distance. Duncan turned his mount into the trees toward the flame and found the MacDonald men sheltering under a rock outcropping. Upon seeing them, the MacDonalds stood swords in hand.

  “So the MacDonald was right. Ye did take her,” one of the men sneered, stepping forward menacingly.

  “Nae, Duncan did no’ take me,” Marra chastised her father’s men while dismounting.

  “Then how did he find ye in such a storm when we could no’?”

  “I am a better hunter than the both o’ ye,” Duncan stated truthfully.

  The warriors stepped forward again glowering in anger. “Tell that tae my blade.”

  “Ye are better warriors than I without contest. I admit that freely.”

  His words surprised them, and they stopped to stare at him in confusion. “Aye,” one of them nodded. “That we are, but I ne’er heard a Campbell willin’ tae admit it.
”

  “We all have different strengths. Yers is warfare. Mine is as a hunter. My strength helped me tae find her. Yers will keep her safe from whomever took her,” Duncan pointed out.

  “Yer the one who lured her from the safety o’ her faither’s castle.”

  “Aye, I am, and I take full responsibility for that. I ken that I will need tae pay for my part.”

  “I am the one who chose tae leave my faither’s lands, and I will no’ allow anyone tae pay for my actions. As it is I have paid enough already, have I no’?”

  “Aye, a price ye should ne’er have paid. Ye are no’ guilty o’ anythin’, lass, and dinnae let anyone tell ye otherwise,” Duncan reassured her. He admired her fiery spirit and sense of accountability.

  “Yer faither may have other thoughts on the matter,” one of the warriors warned.

  “I ken it all tae well, Robert MacDonald,” Marra replied hands on her hips.

  “Aye, that ye do,” the other man chuckled.