The Beast of Clan Kincaid (18 page)

But seeing something ahead … Niall slowed. A faint glow of light emanated upward from the perch. His mood fell. He had come here to be alone with his thoughts. To remember. To ruminate over all he had heard and seen tonight. It annoyed him that he could not find solitude in this,
his
sacred place. He glowered for a moment, seething on the spot, and almost turned to depart, but curiosity drew him near to the edge in careful, silent steps, where for a moment, he stopped breathing.

It was
her
.

Elspeth sat at the center of the perch, wrapped in a cloak, with a small lantern at her side. She leaned forward, looking across the valley, where below, the windows of the castle glowed with light, and bonfires dotted the darkness. Her hair, no longer bound in the careful style she had worn earlier in the hall, rippled out over the shadowy expanse like a banner. She looked beautiful and mysterious and … perfect. A gust of wind blew her hair across her eyes. She smoothed it away, against her shoulder, and in doing so, turned her head toward him.

She gasped, startled. The lantern's glow illuminated her wide eyes, and she stood.

“I did not mean to intrude,” he said.

And yet he did not step back. Now that he was here, with her … alone, he would not retreat.

Another strong gust of wind swept along the ridge, sweeping her cloak back, momentarily revealing the blue gown she wore beneath, and the alluring curve of her hips and waist.

Claim her
.

“May I sit?” He stepped closer.

She swayed, almost as if she would flee. But she did not. Nor did she tell him no.

“There appears to be room enough for us both,” he added, in an easy tone.

“Yes,” she whispered.

Her dark-lashed eyes widened as he stepped down onto the narrow path and made his way toward her, his heart beating harder as the distance between them closed.

Out of nowhere, like a blaze of fire across his mind, his instincts warned him to tread cautiously.

Why?

He knew the answer. It was because Elspeth …

Elspeth—with her innocent eyes and enchanting manner—was different. She was the sort of woman a man lost sleep over. The sort of woman that enslaved a man's heart. She was the sort of woman a man would throw himself on a sword to defend and keep. Which made her just as dangerous to him as she was desirable. If he allowed himself to feel too greatly for her—

Ridiculous thoughts
. Why was he having them?

Because he was here, in this place that meant everything to him, his damn heart torn open in grief and remembrance. He would risk nothing in his quest to retake Inverhaven.

She was just a woman. His enemy's daughter. A forbidden prize to be claimed.

He must stop thinking and feeling—and
act
.

When he was close enough to touch her, she quickly sat on the far side of the lantern, leaving the space on the other side for him, too far away for his liking.

But as he sat, he lifted the lantern by the handle and, lowering himself beside her, set the metal cage on the other side of his booted feet, leaving the two of them shadowed in deeper darkness, side by side, close but not touching. The muscles along either side of his abdomen tightened, spearing into his groin, as his male body took notice of her delicate person, so pleasingly different than his own.

He turned his face to look at her. She looked back at him, her gaze cautious.

“I … am sorry I made you unhappy in the forest. That I kissed you when you did not wish to be kissed, so that you wanted to kill me with your mighty stick.” He chuckled, low in his throat—a rueful sound. “That you … dislike me now, and feel you must now avoid me.”

Taciturn by nature, Niall had never been good at conversation with ladies, but then, he supposed he had never really seen the need to try very hard, because they seemed to like him well enough without words. In this way, he found himself very much out of his element with Elspeth.

She still did not speak, but she listened, her eyes fixed on his mouth.

“I used the words I used … that I did not wish to be your nursemaid, to put distance between us. I feared if your father and the others looked at my face, they would know. That I had been kissing you. While I do not fear for myself, I would not want you to be punished for my transgression.”

They sat together in silence for a long moment, both looking out over the valley until she spoke again.

“It's beautiful here, isn't it?” she asked.

“Indeed.”

As it had been for him and his father, when they had come here.

Oh, but he liked the sound of her voice.

 

Chapter 13

Elspeth knew she should stand, and go, and leave him and not look back. But in the next moment, her lips were moving, and she was speaking the truth. “You did not make me unhappy.”

Niall's blue eyes stared intently into hers.

“I don't dislike you,” she added. “I … I like you too much.”

He moved closer, shifting beside her, turning … casting her corner of earth into deeper darkness. His hand cupped her face, and he tenderly stroked her jaw with his thumb. Her heart leapt at his touch.

“Then what do you want?” he said, his voice vibrating low in his throat, his breath brushing her lips, making her ache for more.

“I want you to kiss me again,” she whispered.

He bent his head close. But she lifted her hand, and pressed her fingertips against his handsome lips.

“Don't,” she said, but softly.

“How can I not?” he murmured. He kissed her fingertips. At the same time, his hand came up and his fingers delved between hers, as his mouth pressed past onto hers, hungry and claiming.

“Niall…”

“Just a kiss,” he answered, kissing her again … and again, rendering her drunk and weak and wanting. “I won't demand more. Just this.”

His words said one thing, but his urgency, and his body said another, as did hers. His boots crushed against the earth as he embraced her within the sanctuary of his powerful arms, and pulled her legs … her bottom closer against him, so that the length of her body more closely touched.

He guided her hand to the top of his thigh, where through his trews she felt the power of his muscles flex as he leaned more heavily toward her. Her heart beat wild in her chest, as each foray of his mouth and tongue became deeper and more passionate until she felt certain each kiss claimed a part of her soul she feared she would never get back.

Gasping, she pulled away, breaking free of his arms and pushing at him with flattened palms. “That was more than just a kiss.”

She smiled ruefully. He did not smile in return.

“Because it means something more to both of us,” he said, breathing hard, staring back at her with dark eyes.

“Perhaps that is true but I am not at liberty to decide.” She stood, feeling as if her heart tore in two. “Please, Niall, I must go,” she insisted. “This has only proven what is true. I cannot be alone with you again.”

He stood as well. Because of the breadth of his shoulders, and the stance of his booted feet, he all but blocked the narrow path. She passed close beside him, so close she felt the heat radiating from his body, tangled up with the scent of wood smoke and leather.

He caught her arm, with his open palm, just above the elbow. Startled, she stopped. His cloak snapped in the wind, curling about her, and they stood in what was almost an embrace.

“You're forgetting something,” he said.

Bending low, he took up the lantern and passed it into her hand. Its light cast his angular jaw and his lips into light and shadow.

“Good night, Niall,” she murmured, and pressed past, her body burning to be touched by him again, her heart filled with an ache she had never suffered before.

When she had gone several paces, she glanced back and saw him watching her, his expression hidden by the night.

He strode forward, and seized hold of her again, murmuring as he bent, “As long as this is good-bye, I'll dare to kiss you again.”

And he did so, turning her face up to meet his kiss, openmouthed and commanding. Pleasure consumed her, and she moaned into his mouth, feeling her hips and shoulders pressed back against the stone ledge. His arms came beneath her cloak and hands boldly stroked over her gown, smoothing over her hips and breasts and back. Consciousness blurred, and she gave herself up to desire.

He released her abruptly.

“Go,” he growled. “Before I make love to you here on the ground.”

She didn't want to leave, but as the cold air struck her skin, her senses returned, and she knew she must listen to his warning.

Pulling up her hood, she proceeded down the dark trail, suspecting he followed at a distance, a truth she confirmed near the base of the hillside, after she passed a magnificent horse tied to a tree, and glanced back to see him, in moonlight, approach the animal with an extended, open hand.

Extinguishing the lantern, she continued, moving along the edge of the village and up the road to slip past the castle guards by hurrying through the gates amidst a cluster of chattering servant girls who carried fresh buckets of water from the cistern and blocks of peat. A scant moment later, she slipped up the stairs, where once in her room, she set the lantern down and threw off her cloak. Hurrying to the window, a blush still burning her skin, she pushed open the shutters to look toward the river, thinking to catch a glimpse of him in the moonlight.

She sighed, disappointed, seeing nothing but the night.

*   *   *

Two nights later, Elspeth sat at Fiona's table, eating honey cakes, her favorite treat since childhood. Her old nursemaid always made them when she visited.

“Things will all work out for the best,” said Fiona, with a smile. The lantern's light glimmered off her silver hair. “I truly believe that.”

Elspeth nodded, taking comfort from another bite.

The past two days had been torturous. In that time, she had seen Niall from a distance … in the courtyard, half-naked and training ferociously with her father's men. Riding off in the company of Deargh and her MacClaren clansmen. He seemed to garner more respect and accolades each day, and she often saw him in counsel with Conall and her father. He partook each night in the evening meal, in the great hall, sitting at her father's side, but he had avoided her completely, offering only a jerk of his chin and a politely worded greeting, and nothing more. Her father had even teased about her apparent dislike of the man.

Niall was only doing what she'd asked him to do. So why did it hurt so badly?

Tonight she had sent word to her father and Bridget that she would be supping in the village with Fiona, where she could enjoy a night of peace and conversation, without her nerves in tangles. But Fiona had sensed something was wrong, and soon the words spilled from Elspeth's mouth.

Fiona looked across the table at her sympathetically. “Perhaps that is why you have such strong feelings for this Niall. They are true feelings, but … exaggerated, because of the dread you feel over your coming nuptials to someone else. Right now, your future husband is just a man with no face. What young woman would not feel unsettled, and torn?”

Heat rose into Elspeth's cheeks. “I should not have kissed him.”

Kissed
. The description seemed an insufficient description for what happened each time hers and Niall's lips touched.

“Do not chastise yourself over that. A kiss is just a kiss.” Fiona winked at her. “Kisses are nice and young people should enjoy them often. I know I did, with more than one young swain.” She wagged a finger. “Just so there is nothing more.”

“Have no fear of that,” Elspeth assured her, mortified by the bold turn of the conversation, with a woman who had tended for her since birth. Still, she trusted Fiona completely with her secrets. Fiona would tell no one what they discussed.

“Whether you merely kiss him”—Fiona winked at her again—“or if there is
more
between you, you misunderstand the warning I seek to give you.”

“And what warning is that?” asked Elspeth.

Fiona reached and squeezed a knobby fingered hand over hers. “Be cautious, my dear girl. Guard your heart. If your feelings are true, and Niall's as well, spending too much time together could be … dangerous. Your new husband, if he does not capture your heart in equal measure, may find it impossible to compete with the memory of another man. It could bring unhappiness into your marriage, where none would have been there otherwise.”

“We need not worry about any of that,” Elspeth answered. “I have made clear my wish that our flirtation go no further, and I believe he will respect me in that. I am resolved. I
will
forget him. Soon.”

“Of course you will,” said Fiona reassuringly.

“It is late.” Elspeth stood. “I must go.”

She pulled her plaid around her shoulders. She had worn only a simple linen
lèine
tonight.

Fiona moved, as if to stand. “I will walk you there.”

Elspeth gently pressed her back down. “I won't allow it. I saw those ankles. Tomorrow I am sending my father's physician to have a look at you.”

“It is just normal for an old woman, such as I,” Fiona protested.

“Perhaps, but I will feel better for him confirming that is so.”

She bent down and planted a kiss to Fiona's cheek.

“I will return in a few days.”

“Yes, do. Because soon you will be gone, and I won't see you anymore.”

“Why don't you come with me?”

Fiona shook her head. “I am old. I could never leave this place now. It is my home.”

“I understand. That does not mean I will not be very sad not to be able to see you whenever I wish.”

She already was sad. Her life was moving too fast toward an uncertain change. She felt as if a storm was rising around her, and she had no anchor to hold on to.