Spellbound (19 page)

38

It had only been days since Calum had made himself the new laird of MacKinnon keep. Already the rushes were beginning to stink, refuse and rotting food littering the floor of the great hall.

He
and a few of his most trusted men now ruled through fear and intimidation, despite their loss to the MacAlister clan.

“
Bring me another ale, wench!” Calum bellowed. A cowering servant girl brought it quickly and Calum pinched her rear-end and then her nipple. When she shrank from his touch, he slapped her so hard she fell on the stone floor.

“
Bitch,” he mumbled. “Cowards all! Look at what yer fear has wrought!”

Indeed,
there were examples in the courtyard outside. Hanging by their necks from the sturdy limb of a great tree were several of the men who had dared to stand against Calum. He hadna bothered to help bury the MacKinnon men slain on the nearby battlefield after the clash with the MacAlisters; that was a task fit for the lowliest of servants, not for a great man like himself.

Heaping
platters of food were set before Calum and his men at the great table and his men ate with gusto, after having a servant taste the food to be sure it was not poisoned. Calum took a few bites of beef and threw it on the floor, where mangy dogs fought over it. It was cold; the kitchens were far from the great hall. Besides that, he was not in the mood to eat. He required a different kind of sustenance to keep his mind off the MacAlister.

He’d
learned through one of his spies that Kade had married Christel MacKinnon, Brodie’s treasured daughter. The one he’d kept hidden for so long from everyone.

It
was rumored that the MacAlister laird had Brodie in his keep now. The auld man had found a way to escape his own dungeons. No matter. If Kade hadn’t killed Brodie already, Calum would have his revenge. But right now he needed a good, hard screw.

He
caught his own image in a polished silver bowl that had been a gift from a visiting chieftain once upon a time. He smiled. The curve of the bowl distorted his smile and made it look more like a snarl. Several women in the village had told Calum he had a harsh kind of handsomeness. He had a square jaw, marked with a long, jagged scar from when he’d been a child. He did not like to think about how he’d gotten that scar. He still had blood spattered on his shirt from the battle, and mud in his hair.

Calum
had a lean, muscular body, and as a man, was taller than his father. He’d inherited the odious man’s sandy blonde hair, which he wore short, cropped close to his nape. His eyes were more like his mother’s though, green-gray as polished stones. His mother had been a whore who’d lived in the nearby village. Neither his mother nor father had ever cared a whit for him.

He
eyed a plump, curvaceous servant with long, flame-red hair and an ample bosom. She had flashing green eyes and freckles. He whispered to the man next to him and within moments, she was brought before him, trembling. “What’s yer name?” Calum said.

The
girl, mayhap all of eighteen years to his thirty and two, could not seem to find her voice. He stood, stepped down from the raised platform where the great table sat, and gripped her arm painfully. “Come with me. For what we’re going to do, lass, ye dunna need a name.”

39

Calum led the young woman along a dim corridor to a small storage room that contained a few pieces of dusty furniture, some old tapestries in dire need of repair, and a rusty sword or two. He shut the door and latched it as she backed against an old desk.

He
watched her creamy bosom heave beneath her simple tunic. “Take off yer wimple,” he said. “I want to see the fire of yer hair.”

“
I am a married woman!”

“
Ye
were
married,” he said. “Until yesterday, when yer husband was killed on the battlefield. Isn’t that right, my sweet?”

“
Please, my husband’s no’ yet cold in the grave and I have a wee bairn!”

“
Let’s no’ make this difficult. I need a good, hard screw, and yer going to oblige yer new laird.”

“
Nay! I canna! Have a heart!”

He
closed the space between them quickly and ripped her tunic down the front, gripping a handful of ripe breast. “Surely ye dunna wish to see any harm come to yer sweet, little bairn? Tell me, is it a boy or a …girl?”

He
saw it in her face, the moment she surrendered. He helped her remove her stockings and then undid his trews, his manhood springing thick, red, and angry looking from his clothing. “Yer going to make my big prick feel so good.” He bent his head and bit her chest, pinching and twisting her nipples, leaving bruises. She yelped.

“
Enough. Spread yer legs, wench. I’m going to fuck ye.”

She
did not move. He pushed her pale legs open with his booted foot. He was prepared to ram himself inside her whether she was ready or not when a knock sounded on the door. “By the Saints!”

“
Calum! We have news ye’ll want to hear.”

He
squeezed her breasts and nipped the creamy mounds. “We’ll finish this later, my sweet, ne’er fear.” He refastened his trews and stomped to the door, throwing it open. Several men stood there, gaping at the naked woman retrieving her rent clothing from the floor. “It better be important,” Calum said, leaving the wench and returning to the great hall.

As
it turned out, the news was well worth the interruption. A short time later, he and a small contingent of men on horses thundered through the muddy, bloody battlefield, rain lashing their hard faces as they steered their animals around the wreckage of bodies with little thought for the dead. A bold new plan of revenge had formed.

‘Twas
said the MacAlister laird was as tall as two men. That he was deadly in battle, the devil himself. Patient, afraid of no one, emotionless as he slew man after man. Calum smiled. He knew who the
real
devil was.

Clouds
shifted their long shadows along the valley floor. Lightning flashed over the moss-covered mountains, and thunder boomed and echoed across the glens. More than a storm was coming.

Calum
kicked the sides of his horse mercilessly as he rode toward his future. His enemy was going to fall right into his hands. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

40

When Maighdlin awoke she was acutely aware of being alone. For a moment, she didn’t remember where she was. And then she knew.
Home. Her village. Last night…spent in Kade’s arms.
Where was he now?

She
sat up and peered over the edge of the loft. A fire burned in the small hearth. His things were gone. Her heart leapt. For one frenzied moment, she feared it had all been a dream. Then her eyes fell on the table. A small, single white rose lay there.

Quickly,
she descended the ladder and dressed. Maighdlin inhaled the heady fragrance of the flower. She’d slept for a long time after making love with her husband
.
Their bodies finally spent, she’d relaxed against his side and fallen into a deep and comforting sleep.
Her husband.
Her heart warmed each time she thought of him.

She
washed and then broke her fast with a small oat cake and ale. She unlatched the shutters on the window to find that the blackness of night had evaporated into a brilliant day, bursting with sunshine. Opening the door, she ventured out, finding her father and Lachlan outside Lachlan’s cottage.

“
How did ye sleep?” Lachlan asked, a smile tugging at his lips. Her father blushed.

“
Well. And ye? Father?”

“
’Twas difficult finding any peace with that giant snoring away,” Haddon said.

“
Me! Snoring! I’d say ‘twas more difficult for me to sleep, what with all the loud farts shooting from yer arse the night through.”

Haddon
rolled his eyes and Maighdlin laughed. “If yer both done talking about snoring and farts, do ye know where Kade is?”

“
I think it most likely he and men willna be back until this eve, if all goes well,” Lachlan said.

“
What do you mean ‘if all goes well’?” Maighdlin felt the first pangs of alarm. “Where have they’ve gone and what is so urgent?”

Lachlan
and Haddon looked at each other. Haddon cleared his throat. Lachlan pulled at his straggly beard. “Well, lass, they’ve had word that the traitor who may be responsible for the attack on the MacAlister clan is no’ far from here, and that he only travels with a small band of men. ‘Tis said he wrested control of the keep from the aging Brodie and then attacked the MacAlisters.”

“
’Tis true,” Haddon said. “Kade and his men are going to capture the traitor and bring him to the MacAlister keep. Then Kade will return for ye.”

“
Who is the traitor?”

“
We dunna know,” Haddon said. “Kade was in such a hurry to be off. Why don’t ye come inside and have some tea, sit for a while with yer auld father?”

Maighdlin
followed the men inside, thinking of Kade. She saw a man now in Kade…not the soulless, heartless warrior she thought he would be. She saw a living, breathing, strong and tender man who was hurting. He still sought revenge for Niall’s and Fenalla’s deaths, as rightly he should. But she wondered, how long would Fenalla be a shadow between them?

41

Kade and his men rode toward the spot where Calum and a few of his men were rumored to be reiving. That the fool was off lifting cattle when the MacKinnon keep had been so recently attacked and their people hurting and in need of a laird did not bode well for his character or his future.

As
the horses thundered across mud, grass, and soggy marshes, he thought of Niall. Of Fenalla. Of the years of battle and staring death full in the face. Of being away from his homeland for three long years. Of the loneliness that always seemed to bleed at his soul. Of how Maighdlin eased his soul.

He
led his band of men forward, through wooded hills and down sloping valleys, past sleepy clusters of ramshackle cottages that were like those in Maighdlin’s village. While pain still burst in his breast whenever he thought of Niall and Fenalla, and always would, his thoughts were mostly of Maighdlin. Of her smooth, pale skin, the sweet fragrance of her auburn hair as it trailed like dark flame over his flesh, of how she felt in his arms, of the unexpected excitement and joy he’d found in being close to her.

He
thought too of coming home to find burning rubble—the humble village at the gates of his keep sacked and burned, the keep’s pillars of gray stone nearly obscured by viscous clouds of drifting smoke. His brother’s body and Fenalla’s…locked together in their last moments on earth. It hit him then with a resounding force—the truth he’d been denying, resisting, avoiding.
Maighdlin could only be telling the truth about Niall and Fenalla.
They’d been locked together in each other’s arms when they were found, after the village was attacked. They’d been together in secret, perhaps not wanting to risk being together again within the castle walls. They probably thought they’d be safer in an abandoned cottage. But Maighdlin had found the necklace that Fenalla had lost…in Niall’s bed.

Kade’s
heart twisted in pain. His homecoming should’ve been a joyous occasion. An occasion when things were set right. But Niall and Fenalla had been sleeping in a tomb and they’d had no idea.
Kade had no doubt that Niall had tried to save Fenalla. But the way they were found…Kade hoped it had been quick. That they’d been unconscious before the flames took them.

A
sound of frustration choked the back of his throat. Niall must have felt for Fenalla the way he felt for Maighdlin. He couldn’t deny that the moment he laid eyes on Maighdlin, she affected him in some deep, primal way. Jesu, but he could still feel her hands on him, her slender fingers and her mouth shyly exploring him. He marveled at the sensual pleasure she took in touching him and feeling him inside of her, leaving him aching and near senseless for more. Was this what love felt like? She’d said last eve that she loved him. His heart nearly burst with joy. But he hadn’t told her how he felt about her. Was he afraid to say it, afraid to love her, because the things he’d loved before had been destroyed?

When
Kade crested the hill, he immediately realized his mistake. An empty glen, flush with the green of a full and riotous spring turning to summer, spread before him and his men. The horses stamped their feet in impatience and swished away midges with their tails.

His
curses blistered the air. There was no sign of Calum and his men. It had been a ruse.

Kade
had no choice but to split his party up. He sent a few of his men racing back to Maighdlin’s village, some back to the MacAlister keep, and he, Ian and several others rode like hell toward the MacKinnon castle. Kade hoped he was right; that Calum had taken Maggie there, hoping to use her to bargain with. Kade would kill the man if he’d harmed a hair on her head….