My Highland Lover (11 page)

“I ne’er heard a woman use such language.” Gray stared at the closed door. Trulie’s angry stream of stuttering profanity gradually faded as she stomped away.

“That’s a pretty good indicator Trulie’s royally pissed.” Granny’s shoulders sagged as she blew out a dismal sigh. “She always stutters and curses when she feels like she’s lost control. And if you make her really mad, she cries. You best take cover if she ever cries, because hell hath no fury compared to Trulie on an angry rampage.”

Gray mulled over Trulie’s stream of profanity. He wasna sure what some of the words meant, but he was damn positive those words should ne’er come out of a woman’s mouth. He stared at the door, remembering her rage and how it had only accentuated her delicate features.
Lore a’mighty. What fire.
He scrubbed his fingers against his jaw and turned back toward Tamhas and Granny. “So ye tricked the woman to bring her here. Why?”

Tamhas flashed a toothy grin. “Are ye blind then, man?” Tamhas tossed the soiled bowl back among the clutter of the worktable. “That fiery lass is the perfect match for ye. The children the two of ye sire will be fine and bonnie—perfect descendants to perpetuate this powerful clan.”

“Of course, you will have to woo her.” Granny beamed up at him with a knowing smile and a pat on his arm. “Trulie tends to get a bit out of sorts when she feels she’s been maneuvered. It might take you a bit to get through to her, but don’t give up. I’m sure you can wear her down and convince her the charade was all for the best.”

“I am no’ the one who lied to the woman.” Gray backed up a step and thumped himself on the chest. “And who e’er said I wanted such a fiery-tongued woman to wife?”

“I’ll wait until the two of you are married to tell Trulie you said that.” Granny winked and folded her hands primly in front of her waist. The old woman looked pleased with herself. She greatly resembled her wicked cat after Cook discovered the cream pans licked clean.

He had to get out of here. He felt trapped, both by the tiny confines of Tamhas’s abode and by the sudden plot to get him wed. All he had asked of the old man was the identity of the culprit who had murdered his parents. How the hell had the old demon turned that into a matchmaking request? Gray moved toward the door and stomped squarely on Kismet’s tail.

The enraged cat exploded into a black ball of fury and embedded its claws in his leg.

“Off, wicked beast.” Gray bent, latched onto Kismet’s scruff, and flinched as two paws full of barbs tore free of his flesh. Tiny rivulets of warm blood trickled down his stinging calf.

Kismet exploded again with a furious hiss. A high-pitched yowl vibrated into Gray’s hand as the cat twisted in his grasp. Her puffed up tail whipped back and forth as Kismet lashed another swipe at Gray.

“I’ll thank ye to keep this menace away from me if ye dinna wish t’see yer wee cat skinned.” Gray bent and dropped the spitting fur ball into Granny’s arms.

“You’re definitely a dog person,” Granny observed. She cuddled the enraged Kismet to her chest and whispered soothing words to the feline. “That’s a good thing. I think Trulie prefers dogs too.”

Gray held up a hand for silence and yanked open the door. “Nary another word about yer damnable matchmaking. When I find Mistress Trulie, I intend to leave her with no doubt about my intentions.”

“Which are?” Granny prompted as Coira knocked over another stack of bowls and sidestepped the resulting crash.

“By hell’s fiends,” Tamhas cursed as he shooed Coira away from his cluttered storage shelves. “Take this one with ye afore she destroys everythin’ I own. Be gone, girl. I do me own housekeeping.”

Coira dropped a polite curtsy, scurried across the room, and flitted out the door ahead of Gray. “Come, m’chieftain. Mistress Trulie is already well ahead of us. The lady walks quite fast when she’s angry. Shall I run to fetch her for ye?”

“Nay!” Gray pointed back to the bench inside the croft. “Ye shall wait here. I dinna give a damn what Master Tamhas wishes.” How the hell had he lost control of this damnable situation? “I am chieftain here. Ye shall stay and assist Master Tamhas in the long overdue clearin’ out of this hellhole.”

Coira’s eyes rounded and her pale brows arched nearly to her hairline. She bobbed another quick curtsy, skittered back inside the croft, and set to gathering the soiled wooden bowls scattered across the floor.

Gray turned back to Tamhas, fighting against the urge to demand a burning out of his cluttered burrow. He could almost hear his mother’s voice pleading her brother’s case.
Ye know yer uncle is nay quite right. He’s too gifted wi’ the ways. Ye must be patient wi’ him, son, for his heart and soul are pure.

Gray sucked in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “I may lose control and kill ye for this yet, old man.” Gray snatched hold of the rope handle of the door and slammed it hard behind him.

Trulie slowed, then came to a complete stop. Her rage evaporated, loosening the band of tension squeezing the air from her chest.
My God. It’s so…beautiful.

And it was. Only so much more than that one word could describe. The rugged land spread out before her, patient and waiting for her to appreciate it for what it truly was. A sky the vibrant blue of Scotland’s flag. Clouds so wispy and white that they resembled watercolor brush strokes. Thickets of pines, blue green in their scattered clusters, softened the jagged edges of stony hillsides and cliffs forming the crude bowl of a valley leading down to the ocean.

Trulie’s gaze traveled past the thickest line of gnarled trees hemming in the bit of land leading down to the sea. Ridges of stone, topped with the brown grasses of winter, jutted out into the bay like the fingers of a great hand dipping down into the water. Atop the largest ridge, majestic and proud against the sky, stood MacKenna keep.

Four tall stone towers connected with great walls of weathered block stood almost silver against the skyline. The grounds surrounding the outer wall gently sloped a few feet away from the fortress, then sheared off into the sea. The keep itself had been built on the thickest part of the peninsula jutting into the bay. Either the battering sea or the determined Highland weather had eroded away enough of the land to disconnect the keep from the mainland. Trulie stood on tiptoe and shaded her eyes. As near as she could tell, the only access to the keep was by crossing the wide stone bridge connecting the two pieces of land.

The steady pounding of footsteps behind her pulled her attention away from the newly discovered splendor. A subtle tingle surged through her. Not unpleasant. More like an exciting shiver of anticipation. Her senses recognized and embraced the only man who had ever succeeded in triggering such a reaction.

“Ye should ne’er travel alone in the Highlands. ’Tis unsafe.”

Hackles raised and teeth bared, Karma leaned against Trulie’s leg and rumbled a warning growl. Trulie snugged the heavy cloak tighter about her body and hugged her arms across her chest. She spared a dismissive glance back over one shoulder and bit her lip to keep from laughing. Cheiftain MacKenna looked thoroughly pissed.

“I’m never alone.” She nodded down at the dog. “I believe you’ve met Karma.”

“Aye.” Gray scowled at the dog and risked a step closer.

Karma’s clicking growl shifted into overdrive as he hunkered down and prepared to spring.

Gray backed up a step. “Aye. I agree yer quite safe wi’ that great beast watchin’ o’er ye.” Gray widened his stance. “But nonetheless, I shall see to it ye travel safely to the keep.”

Trulie smoothed a hand down Karma’s velvety head and dug her fingers into his hackles. “That’s enough, Karma. You know Cheiftain MacKenna means us no harm.” And he didn’t. The poor man was as much a pawn in Granny’s scheme as she was.

“I would hope ye both know I’d ne’er harm ye.” Gray spared a disgruntled frown toward Karma. “Either of ye.”

Something in Gray’s tone triggered an even warmer flash of tingles. Trulie loosened the wool wrap a bit. “I know you’re a victim here too. And I’m sorry I yelled at you back there.” Trulie took a step closer and held out her hand. She really did owe him an apology. “I’m mad at Granny and Tamhas for their manipulative little game. I’m not mad at you.”

Gray looked down at her hand long enough to make Trulie wonder if he was going to shake hands and play nice or not. She kept it extended and lifted it a bit higher. “Friends?”

The hint of a smile played across Gray’s mouth as he took her hand, lifted it to his mouth and pressed a gentle kiss against the inside of her wrist. Trulie swallowed hard as a delicious surge shifted all her senses into breathless overdrive.
Well, dammit then.

Gray’s watchful gaze made her want to squirm as he stepped to her side and tucked her arm into his. “I’d be more than honored to claim ye as friend.”

Claim ye.
There was something about the way he said those two words that made her look forward to his claiming whatever he wanted. Trulie blinked free of the sensuous spell and motioned toward the keep. She had to slow this erotic spiral down. “Karma and I were headed back to the keep to have a chat with Mr. Fearghal. Would you like to walk with us?”

Gray scanned the land, then waved a hand toward the keep. “ ’Tis a bit farther then ye ken. That’s why Tamhas had the lot of ye brought up here in the wagon. Are ye certain ye wish to walk?”

Trulie studied the sprawling land. It was a pretty good distance. “We have to walk. We can’t leave them without the wagon.”

“Nay, lass. We’ll no’ have to walk.” Gray grinned, then split the air with a sharp whistle.

Karma perked his ears toward a dirt path disappearing around a swell of scrub and stone. The ground seemed to tremble as the biggest horse Trulie had ever seen thundered up the path. Black as coal from the tips of his ears to the shaggy feathers skirting each foot, the monstrous beast miniaturized all around him.

“Cythraul will carry us to the keep.”

Trulie backed up a step.
Holy crap, what a big horse.
“Uhm. Okay.” She couldn’t very well refuse on the grounds that heights terrified her. It was either ride the four-story horse back to the keep, or wait and travel with Granny and Tamhas. She was not in the mood for that.

Amusement and something not quite readable sparkled in Gray’s eyes as he held out his hand. “M’lady?”

If she didn’t know better, she’d swear Gray was waiting to see if she was going to accept the challenge or turn tail and run. Trulie stepped forward and grabbed his hand. She didn’t run from anything.

Gray turned her, set his hands about her waist and lifted her up into the saddle as though she weighed no more than a feather. Trulie locked both hands onto the lip of the saddle and concentrated on the thick tuft of mane directly in front of her knuckles. As long as she didn’t look down at the ground, she’d be okay. A high-pitched squeak escaped her as Gray lunged up into the saddle behind her.

“Wha’s wrong, lass?”

“Nothing.” Trulie cleared her throat and tried again. “Nothing at all.”
Geez.
She sounded like a schoolboy whose voice was changing. “Nothing’s wrong.” There. That sounded much better. She had to admit, the wall of muscle at her back and the safety harness of Gray’s arms on either side of her did make her feel…a lot…better.

His warm breath brushed across her cheek as he leaned forward, scooped up the reins in one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist. “I’ll no’ let ye fall.”

Trulie shivered and couldn’t resist melting back into Gray’s warmth. At this point in time, falling from the horse was the least of her worries.

Cythraul lurched forward into a rolling gallop thundering down the hillside. Trulie shut her eyes, tucked her chin to her chest, and clutched Grays’ arm tighter about her waist.
Shit. Shit. Shit.

Gray’s deep chuckle rumbled against her back as he held her snug against him. “Rest easy, lass. I’ll slow the beastie down.”

Trulie barely cracked open one eye and peeped out from the folds of her wrap, which she’d clutched over her face. They were moving much slower now. Gray had curbed Cythraul back to a peaceful trot. “Thank you.” Trulie loosened her grip on Gray’s arm, horrified as four half-moon slits cut into his forearm beaded up with blood.

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry.” Trulie worked a square of linen free of her tightly laced kirtle and dabbed at the cuts. Thank goodness Coira had insisted she tuck the handkerchief into the cleft of her bosom
just in case.
“I’m so so sorry. I didn’t mean to dig my fingernails into you.”

Gray flexed his arm tighter about her waist. “ ’Tis nothing, lass. Dinna fash o’er some wee scratches that I didna even feel.” Gray’s deep voice rumbled against her cheek as he leaned in closer. “I take it yer no’ well acquainted with ridin’?”

“Not…really.” Trulie gasped, leaned back and clutched his arm again. “Holy crap. You’ve got to stop and let me down.” She held her breath.
I will not puke. I will not puke.
Maybe if she repeated the chant over and over she wouldn’t toss up her bannock.

Cythraul immediately stopped. Gray folded the reins across the great horse’s neck and leaned around. Concern and worry filled his face. “What have I done to offend ye?”

Trulie pointed a shaking finger at the bridge in front of them. The wide stone bridge spanned a sheer breathless drop down into a jagged stretch of what looked like razor-sharp stones surrounded with angry, roiling seawater. “I can’t be up this high and ride across…that.”

Gray looked at the bridge, then returned his gaze to Trulie. His expression clearly said he didn’t understand, yet without a word, he slid down from the horse’s back and held up his hands to Trulie. “Come, m’lady. We’ll walk the rest of the way.”

Trulie’s heart double-thumped a breathless beat. Gray could’ve cajoled her into riding across the bridge or made fun of her for being afraid. But he hadn’t. He’d accepted her fears for what they were and set to easing them without hesitation. Gray was the real deal. The living definition of chivalry. Trulie drew in a shaking breath. She’d never met a man quite like him.

Trulie leaned forward into his arms, holding her breath as he slowly pulled her from the saddle and lowered her to the ground. Her mouth went dry as she stood there, her arms resting on his, looking up into his face.