Highlander's Heart (Clan Matheson Book 2) (8 page)

Tor handed her the basket. “Why don’t you go inside, take the cherries to the cook and take some time to think things through now. I’ll speak to your father while you do, and try not to fret.”

“You’ll come and find me afterward?” She tightened her grip on the basket, held it firm against her chest.

“Of course. You’re my mate, always mine and I’ll never be too far away from you.” He would fight for her, take on Donnan MacDonald and ensure the man knew that Layla was his. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Aye, soon.” She walked inside, disappeared through the double paneled front doors holding the carved image of their clan chief’s crest emblazoned on the front. The chief’s arms held two bears as supporters either side, those bears signifying all that they fought for—the survival of a loyal race of bear shifters—Gilleoin’s line, his clan’s line. Layla was his one true mate and they must continue to grow from strength to strength together. Never apart.

With every step Layla took away from him, his heart heaved and his very soul wrenched with pain. He rubbed his achy chest and grimaced. “It’s not easy having her leave.”

“I remember the pain well.” Solemn words and an equally solemn nod from Gregor. “These past three years have been difficult for Layla. As much as our fae people long to have a soul bound mate, my daughter has in her own way feared it, whether she wished for me to see that fear or no’, I did. She has no wish to suffer the pain of losing her chosen one as I lost her mother.”

“She will never lose me.” He clasped Gregor’s shoulder. “I’ll fight for her.”

“I dinnae doubt you will.”

Layla entered the great hall, her thoughts in turmoil as she passed the blazing fireplace with their clan shield glimmering in its rightful place above it. Her duty was twofold, to ensuring Gilleoin’s future shifter line didn’t fall into extinction, and also to honoring her betrothal agreement with Donnan. She sank down on a bench at one of the trestle tables now cleared of the morning meal, set her basket of cherries on the seat beside her and rubbed her tight chest, her heart a heavy weight within it. Her soul bond with Tor resonated strongly within her, her need for him growing with each hour that passed. Spending the night with him in their sacred cavern had been so enchanting, so beautiful, and even though he was only a short distance away, her heart still called to his and her very soul resonated with need.

“Good morn, my lady.” Effie, one of the maids, walked across the hall tucking one errant lock of her hair underneath her frilly white cap. “Would you like me to bring a tray up to your chamber? I’m fetching one for Cherub and can do so for you too.”

“I would love one, thank you. I’ve yet to break my fast. I take it Cherub’s in her chamber?”

“She is. I’ll take these cherries to the cook for you as well, bring you both a tray once I’m done. I willnae be long.” Effie scooped up the basket and disappeared around the edge of the great hall toward the kitchens.

“Layla!” Cherub waved out as she skipped down the last step of the stairwell, her flawless skin sparkling, just like that of the stars she moved amongst when traveling through time. “I saw you arrive back while at my window.”

“I have news.” She hurried across to Cherub, grasped her hands. “Tor and I are mated.”

“I gathered as such. When the full moon rose, I finally sensed who it was Tor had been searching for. You.” Smiling wide, Cherub twirled her in a circle, the burgundy ribbons looped around the waist of her corseted cream gown rippling and her white hooded cloak fluttering from her shoulders. “’Tis good to see you’re no longer in hiding from him.”

“I didnae realize I was hiding from him. I also cannae believe we’re mated when I’m betrothed to another.”

“Aye, your betrothal does pose an issue, but ’tis naught we cannae fix.”

“Tor’s speaking to Father now. Already I miss him, although I’ve asked Tor for some time to consider things. I dinnae know quite what to do. All I know is that he is the only one I will ever desire.”

“Come then. Let’s talk in your chamber where we cannae be overheard.” Cherub hooked her arm through hers and led her toward the stairwell.

“I hope you hold the answer to my questions, or at least some solid guidance. I’m in desperate need of it this day.” She scaled the stairs to the second floor and traversed down the corridor lit by a hazy beam of sunshine streaming through the narrow window at the far end. At the fourth chamber on the left, she opened the thickly paneled door and motioned Cherub inside. “Take a seat while I change. I willnae be long.”

“Take as long as you need.” Cherub sat at the side table, fluffed her skirts about her.

Quickly, she crossed to her burgundy curtained ambry and selected a change of clothes, a rich royal blue gown with long sleeves edged in white lace that draped over the backs of her hands. She always wore it donned with her mother’s favorite leather girdle embellished with bits of bronze. Father had gifted the heirloom to her when she’d come of age, along with a few of her mother’s other most beloved trinkets. She dug Nessa’s missive out of her pocket along with the bear figurine, kissed the top of the bear’s head and popped the carving and the folded parchment inside her wooden keepsake box. She’d forever cherish the memento Tor had given her, as well as Nessa’s precious words. That poem would remain etched within her heart for all time.

“Here we are.” Effie arrived with a tray holding a teapot and two cups, oatcakes and raspberry tarts for both her and Cherub.

“I’ll take my tea here with Layla, rather than in my chamber. Thank you, Effie.” Cherub moved a red leather-bound book out of the way and patted the tabletop.

Her maid set the tray on the embroidered cloth in the center then closed the door behind her as she left.

With her blue gown in hand, Layla nipped in behind the corner dressing screen hand-painted with rolling moors awash with purple heather.

“Do you have honey in your tea?” Cherub called out.

“Aye, a good spoonful. I like it sweet.” She shed her clothes, donned a clean ivory shift then tugged her gown over her head. The whisper-soft velvet shimmered over her hips and swished to her ankles. She adjusted the scalloped neckline with its pretty embroidered white-lace edging that draped low along her neckline, belted her mother’s precious girdle about her waist and slid her feet into a pair of matching royal blue slippers. Dressed, she nabbed her comb from the table holding a basin and jug and in the looking glass, ran the comb through her spiral locks until she’d tamed them once more.

“Tell me all about the moment when Tor discovered you two were soul bound.” Cherub stirred honey into the tea. “I cannae wait to hear of all that happened.”

“He sensed the bond taking form between us even afore night had fallen. I picked the cherries then he asked me to join him for a swim. He said he wished to show me a sacred cavern he’d found hidden behind the waterfall high in the hills, one that held a warm pool of water, then he carted me off up the hill even though I’d said I couldnae come.” From her dish holding a spill of ribbons, she selected a circlet headband of red silk flowers with trailing red and white ribbons and popped it on top of her head to keep her curls in place. ’Twas the same headband she’d worn the day Tor had arrived in their time, the day she’d first met him. A smile came to her lips. The memory of their first meeting would always hold a special place in her heart, as would the night before in their most special place.

“Did you stay in the cavern for the night?” Cherub enquired.

“Aye, we did.” She sat at the side table opposite Cherub. “While he carted me up the hill, he asked me what I was hiding, but I swore I hid naught.”

“The fact you are betrothed to another man must have been what caused him to miss the earlier signs of your bond taking form. In a way, you were hiding.”

“The day he first arrived in this time, he told me once he’d learned I was betrothed to another, the knowledge had frustrated him and in all honesty, I’ve always felt far more than mere intrigue alone for him. I simply wasnae willing to acknowledge it, no’ to myself or to any other.”

“What happened next?” Cherub nudged her tea cup toward her. “Once you arrived at the cavern.”

“We swam, and as the sun descended and the full moon rose, he shifted and allowed me to pet his bear. When he shifted back, he gave me his oath. He vowed that whatever path I trod, would be the same path that he did and he offered me his full protection, of all that he is. He insisted he’d always be here, fighting for me.”

“His need to complete the bond and join in all ways will be surging strongly through him now that he knows you’re his.” Cherub munched on an oatcake, her blond locks sliding over her shoulder and shimmering bright.

“Aye, he asked for a courtship, and I agreed, but there truly is little I can do about allowing anymore between us until I’ve spoken to Donnan. He is the one to whom I’ve agreed to wed.”

“I understand.” Cherub arched a brow. “Although dinnae forget Nessa’s words.”

“I never could, no’ now.” She lifted her tea cup and sipped the sweet brew, her thoughts rolling around in turmoil. “Three years ago, when I first discovered I wasnae mated to another of my fae kind, I was quietly relieved. I’ve always believed ’tis better to be wed to a man I have no feelings for than to ever worry over losing the one man I can never live without.”

“Yet Tor willnae be able to live without you should you choose Donnan over him.” Cherub cleared her throat, her gaze intent. “If you choose to deny your bond with Tor, then you’d be forcing him to live as your father has lived these past twenty-three years, without the one woman his very heart and soul cries out for.
Dinnae cast aside that which is freely given, for your happiness is all I seek.
” Cherub recited Nessa’s words, ones that touched her heart. “The bond is freely given, Layla.”

“The bond is also all-consuming.”

“Aye, but in a very good way.” Cherub’s face lit up with a silly smile then she frowned. “And also in a very frustrating way, but still, I wouldnae wish to be without my mate. Kirk stands at my side, just as I stand at his. My duty to my fae people has now become his duty too and I could never live without him, would perish if I did.”

“’Tis the living without that I fear.” She selected one of the gooey raspberry tarts and chewed.

“Tor’s been searching for you for such a long time.” Cherub patted her hand. “I understand your fears, but he will never be complete until the two of you have joined together as one. You must sever your ties to Donnan then allow the bond to take. Accept your destiny and embrace your new future.
The fates do speak and now is your time,
as Nessa said
.
Open your heart to your mate, Layla, and I promise that you’ll never regret doing so.” Cherub motioned toward the open window where the clanging of steel and the grunting of warriors at training ricocheted toward them. “Tor will be lost without you. You are his destiny, just as he is yours, and if you take but one step toward him, he’ll be there to hold you. So either you accept that the fates have brought you two together, or you toss all that could be away and lose your heart’s true desire.”

“I cannae deny I want him.”

“A MacDonald galley approaches!” The corner guardsman’s booming voice filtered through, ringing with authority from the ramparts overlooking the loch.

Layla raced to the window and grasped the stone windowsill. A galley bearing a MacDonald flag on the center mast confirmed the arrival of their allied clan. At the helm, with a mighty two-handed claymore holstered across his back, Donnan MacDonald stood, his biceps bulging and his legs spread wide. No one could mistake the Chief of MacDonald’s son, and certainly not her. He was the man she’d spent time with on Skye, the man she’d not sensed one inkling of desire for, and the one man she could safely wed and never fear any heartache over losing. He was her betrothed.

“I’ll go and see if Kirk needs my aid now that we have guests soon arriving.” Cherub squeezed her shoulder. “Think on all we’ve spoken about and if you need to talk to me further, I’ll always be here.”

“Thank you, Cherub. I shall take your wise advice and Nessa’s words too to heart.”

“Then that is all either your godmother or I could ask of you.” Cherub dissolved into a mist and streamed out the window and retook her form near the gate as Kirk jogged across the yard and joined her. Cherub pulled her white cape’s fur hood over her head and wandered out the gate arm-and-arm with her mate. The Fae Angel of Love always took great care with whom she allowed to see her, her cloak and hood fully protecting her identity. She wouldn’t be exposing her true self to their visitors, but so too she would remain near Kirk while he welcomed Donnan and his men.

Near the battling warriors training below, Tor stood next to Tavish, both brothers identical in every way, from their shoulder-length locks of silky black hair to their broad chests and towering height, although she’d never mistake one for the other, not now. Using her skill, she swished the wind and brought Tor and Tavish’s conversation to her.

“They’re set to wed before the end of the week.” Tor blew out a long breath, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “No one takes Layla from me, not now, not ever.”

“I won’t allow you to lose her either. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do.” Tavish made the promise with complete ease, their brotherly bond so very tight.

“All I wish to do is protect her from what is about to happen, because breaking the allied relationship between the clans isn’t what I’m after, only breaking her betrothal is.” Tor slid one hand into his pants pocket and dug out the red ribbon he’d taken from her, his gaze softening as he wound it around one finger. “I also won’t take her away from her loved ones here. She needs her father.”

“As Julia needs her parents. We travel back and forth as needed. Cherub would do the same for you and Layla.” Tavish touched his sword to Tor’s sheathed one. “Train with me. You’re strung with tension and need to release it.”

Tor pocketed her ribbon, slid his blade free of his side scabbard and in a series of smooth moves, warmed up. “Once I’ve cleared my head, I intend to tackle my challenging mate, then I’ll deal with Donnan. I won’t have her anywhere near him while he and his clansmen visit.”

“A sound idea.”

“I’ll need your aid in watching over her.” Tor slammed his blade into Tavish’s, his biceps flexing and his tunic pulled taut across his broad shoulders. She curled her fingers into the sill, her need to touch him, to hold him, to never let him go rolling swiftly through her. He battled hard, sweat dampening his skin and as he met each and every one of Tavish’s fast and deadly strikes, the hem of his billowy white tunic lifted and gave a stunning glimpse of his tapered waist and trim hips. She wished to see more of him, could barely contain the need.

With one thought alone, she tore his shirt from him and the scraps of linen swept across the stony yard in the breeze and fluttered against the curtain wall. Tor halted, shock coursing across his face. Oh goodness. She clasped a hand to her mouth. Had she really done that?