Highland Song (13 page)

Gavin shook his head again. “On the contrary,” he argued. “I have only just found it, but that is neither here nor there. That woman inside is my bride!”

“
Bride!” both Leith and Colin shouted at once.

“
Bride?” Broc repeated, choking on the word.

Montgomerie’s eyes widened incredulously. “Christ bedamned,” he exclaimed, and spurred his mount, encircling the group of men, eyeing the new house as he went, particularly the roof. “Damn, this is a sturdy roof,” he added offhand, complimenting Gavin in the oddest tone.

Gavin nodded, uncertain what to say, for he’d had no part in building the damned roof. But then again he didn’t want to admit that Cat had built it either. “Thank ye,” he said belatedly, and then peered back at the door to see that Cat was peeking out through a crack, her eyes full of trepidation.

Anyway, it was a damned peculiar thing to say with the trouble that was brewing.

As though only now noticing, Leith asked him, “Why the hell are you blue?”

“
Because his
bride
is a gaddamn savage!” David offered sourly, his words enraging Gavin.

Gavin leapt toward David, but Montgomerie maneuvered his horse between them, stopping him short.

“
Enough of this banter!” David declared impatiently, and then shouted at the house. “Show yourself girl!”

Gavin moved back toward the door instinctively, ready to fight for the woman he loved.

Catrìona had known she could not hide forever.

The time had come to reveal herself.

She spied the men with King David—the ones who had stripped her and bound her, knowing that, if given the chance, they would do Gavin harm and she would not see him suffer for her sake.

Och, he had called her his bride.

She wanted to smile, but her throat thickened. She wished with all her heart that it were true.

A little timidly, she ventured out of the house, moving toward Gavin, clinging to his back. He moved to shield her from the men’s view, but she could still see beneath his arm pit.

Several of the men—all strangers to her—simply peered at one another curiously. One by one they all shared some silent message, their body language revealing something she knew instinctively.

Their wordless gestures bespoke a loyalty as old as time.

“
Is it true?” one man asked. “Do you love her, brother?”

Gavin straightened his back, his arm snaking behind him to reach for her. “I do,” he said without hesitation.

The man who had spoken conferred with another—a man who looked very much like Gavin, with his blond hair and wide-shouldered stance, save that his eyes were blue. The eldest of the two had called him brother.

Catrìona swallowed convulsively, knowing that these were the moments that would determine her fate.

Another man—the one who had complimented her roof—looked directly down at Cat, “Do you love him?” he demanded.

Catrìona nodded jerkily. Her legs trembled beneath her. Never had she been surrounded by so many strangers but she would not disgrace her brother or her kinfolk by cowering now before them. She squared her shoulders, realizing Gavin had not seen her gesture, and answered loudly for all to hear. “Aye, this man holds my heart!”

King David had yet to speak—not a word from the moment she had shown herself.

All at once, the crowd shifted, moving away from David. Horses surrounded her, entrapping her.

All she heard now were disembodied voices.

The deepest of them all—the one who had called Gavin a preacher—now asked David, “Is this the girl you seek, David? Surely you have mistaken her?” he suggested with an undertone to his voice that held a certain menace. “After spending so much time in the English court, perhaps we savages all look alike?”

David said nothing.

And then Catrìona heard a voice that stopped her heart.

With twenty horsemen at his back, Aidan rode boldly into their midst. He had watched until Catrìona appeared outside the door of the little hovel. He could never mistake his sister’s brilliant mane of hair. It shone like copper under the glinting sun, even hidden as she was now behind so much horseflesh.

“
Catrìona!” he shouted again.
 

He could see her on tippy toes, trying to peer over the barrier they had set between her and David’s men.

David’s mount pranced nervously beneath him, but Aidan only gave him a cursory glance, recognizing the man he needed to speak with. He had not known what the MacKinnon would look like, but he recognized a true leader when he spied one.

“
Iain MacKinnon, descendant of the sons of MacAlpin, I seek only thy council!”

The MacKinnon’s horse spun to face him, and David stepped back, his face mottling, but despite his pack of soldiers on mules, he said nothing, and Aidan knew instinctively that he had been correct in his assumptions.

“
I am
Aidan,” he revealed, looking away from David, meeting Iain’s gaze, “last of the blood of Giric, grandson of Duncan MacAlpin, brother to Kenneth and the last of the Kings of Dal Riata.”

The MacKinnon spurred his mount forward, his black horse prancing with a confidence that its master shared.

“
I have no quarrel with you,” Aidan was quick to say. “But the woman you hold is my sister. If you but return her to me now, we will take our leave and return to the Mounth.”

The ensuing silence was deafening as both men assessed each other. After a moment, the MacKinnon peered behind him. “Is this true?” he asked at large.

It was
Catrìona who stepped forward, weaving her way out of the protective horseflesh mantle they had cast about her. “Aye, she affirmed to the MacKinnon. “This man is my brother.”
 

“
How is it you come to be so far from home?” the MacKinnon asked her.

Cat peered up at King David, who now suddenly seemed reluctant to speak a word. She weighed her own words wisely, sensing that she was surrounded by far too much male pride for anyone to leave unscathed if she but said the wrong word.

She held her head high, and lied through her teeth. “I went for a walk,” she said and peered at her brother. She lifted a shoulder, a bit of a shrug.

Aidan lifted a single dark brow. Her brother was darker skinned than she, with hair that flowed down his back as black as sin.

He knew she sought to avoid bloodshed and he graciously allowed it.

MacKinnon looked toward King David then. “What say you, David? You have yet to speak a word… is this the same woman you seek?”

David looked at her again, blinking, thwarted he realized.

She glanced at the one called
Dùghall, the one she had smacked on the forehead in order to escape. The man glared at her, but said nothing, and in fact, looked away.
 

It took David a long moment to finally reply. He inched his horse forward and pretended to look her over—a ruse, because he had been the one to order his men to strip her bare so that she would be less inclined to escape. And then he had ogled every inch of her though to his credit he had forbade his men to abuse her. His horse pranced beneath him impatiently as he pretended to inspect her, and all the while the men formed a tighter band behind the MacKinnon laird—a move that was not lost to David.

It was clear to Cat in that moment where loyalties lay.

David’s men stood completely apart from the rest, a handful of riders who looked as though they would piss their britches if the wrong word were spoken.

And finally, the King of Scotia spoke. “Nay,” he said at last. “I do not know this woman. She is not the one we seek.”

Cat exhaled with relief.

There was a moment of silence, and then the  MacKinnon asked, his tone low, but laced with sarcasm, “Are you certain?”

“
Aye,” David assured him once and for all, more firmly this time. “She is not the woman we seek. Come!” he directed his men, and they took their leave at once, though the MacKinnon’s, the Brodies and Montgomerie and his men all remained.

Once it was certain that David would not return, Aidan came forward on his white horse, and bade her, “Next time you take a walk, my dear Cat, remind me to give you a leash,” he said sardonically. “Now let us go home.”

Cat’s heart felt near to breaking. She shook her head, refusing to move.

Gavin had had quite enough. He pushed his way through his brothers and through MacKinnon’s men, moving into the forefront. “Nay!” he shouted. “You cannot take her!”

He strode directly before this man who called himself her brother but who spoke of putting her on a leash. He stood there in defiance, so angered that he had no notion that his breacan had come undone.

“
I will hear it from her own two lips that she wishes to leave or you will have to cut me down to take her,” he avowed.

To Gavin’s utter surprise, the man began to laugh. His massive shoulders shook. His men all joined him.

He looked toward Cat to see that she was grinning too. She placed a hand to her mouth and wiggled her brows, urging him to look down.

When he did, he saw that his willy—still painted blue—was standing at attention, peeking out from beneath the folds of his breacan. He was hardly aroused, but with his temper flared, apparently his willy had something to say as well.

“
That’s a damned fine sword,” Colin offered, clearing his throat and looking askance.

The MacKinnon choked on his laughter, and Piers as well.

“
Gaddamn,” Leith remarked. “Thank God none of our wives saw that monstrosity before our own!”

Gavin furrowed his brow, hardly amused. Nor was he embarrassed or the least deterred though he did cover his willy with his breacan.

He turned to Cat, only caring what she had to say this moment—his brothers bedamned. “I want to hear it from your own lips. Cat,” he persisted. “If you tell me you must go, I willna stand in your way, but I hope you will stay...”

Cat looked up at her brother, tears in her eyes.

After a long moment, Aidan nodded, and she turned to Gavin and nodded too, all her love shining in her eyes.

Gavin’s heart felt near to bursting in that moment. Och, indeed, but if love was not some form of magik he didn’t know what was. But his Cat was flesh and blood, and that pleased him more than he had words to say.

He fell to his knees and held out his hand for her to take, “Be my bride in truth,” he entreated, and she came to him without hesitation, embracing him to her bosom.

“
Apparently, another celebration is in order,” The MacKinnon declared, his good humor restored.

“
I know where to find the
whiskie
,” Colin quipped with a grin and a wink, and he waved Aiden and his men down from their horses, inviting them to follow him into the woods. Piers and his men went as well, but not before Piers ventured over to slap Gavin upon the back, complimenting him once more on his fine, sturdy roof.

Neither Gavin nor Cat heard a word any of them said.

Gavin kissed Cat soundly, whispering naughty promises in her ear—all the things he planned to do to her the instant they were alone once more.

And he realized suddenly that faith had set him out the door and faith had brought him to this moment. He might not have understood exactly what he was seeking when he’d walked out that door, but somebody out there must have known...

At the edge of the forest, watching the band of men approach with whiskie on their minds and laughter in their hearts, at least six pairs of cat eyes blinked in unison… and in the gloaming—if you looked at them just so, it appeared they might be grinning. Altogether they slunk away into the trees, leaving a dusting of dancing fireflies blinking in their wake.

Did you enjoy this novella? Turn the page to continue reading the acclaimed book that began the series,

The MacKinnon’s Bride.

 

Chreagach Mhor, Scotland 1118

Iain, laird of the MacKinnons, descendant of the powerful sons of MacAlpin, paced the confines of the hall below his chamber like an overeager youth.

So much hope was affixed upon this birth.

Now, at last, thirty years of feuding with the MacLeans would come to an end. Aye, for how could auld man MacLean look upon his grandbairn and not want peace? After a year full of enmity from his bonny MacLean wife—a year of trying to please her only to meet with stony disapproval and wordless accusations—even Iain felt burgeoning hope for how could she look upon their babe, the life they’d created together, and not feel some measure—some small measure, of affection?

Despite the past hostilities between their clans, his own resentment dissipated in the face of this momentous occasion, and though he couldn’t say he’d loved her before this moment, he thought he might now, for she lay abovestairs, struggling—and a heinous struggle it was—to gift their babe with its first wondrous breath of life.