To Wed A Highlander (22 page)

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Authors: Michele Sinclair

BOOK: To Wed A Highlander
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Korbin moved over to his comrade. Perhaps if they fought together, not on opposite sides, they would have the advantage.

Makenna recognized the ploy at once. She moved forward, slicing the air. As expected, the two jumped slightly apart and then moved to attack her. This time, instead of sidestepping or twirling her body out of the way, she easily stepped through the two men. In their efforts to land a blow, Korbin and Auburn reacted. By the time they realized how close they were to each other, or that they were facing one another, it was too late. Both received a nasty lash from the other on their arms.

Makenna twirled to face the men who were now clutching their wounds. “Last Lesson. Train, train, and when you become very good, train some more. There are ideas, strategies, and techniques your opponent will use against you. Through training, you will discover ways to turn even the most unfavorable situation to your advantage.”

Makenna walked back to her horse, wiped her blade on the end of her bliaut, and then resheathed the sword. Once done, she turned around, beaming. It was clear she found the match to be exciting and exhilarating.

Colin was still shocked as was most of the crowd who had gathered to watch, including her guards Brodie and Gorten. Makenna was exceptionally skilled with the sword. If she had the strength and the size of a man, she would be one of the clan’s best soldiers. She could think quickly on her feet and was always aware of her surroundings. It appeared as if she could sense what her attackers were about to do and prepare a counterstrike. It was incredible.

Watching her so quickly and easily defeat the two men, Colin worried Makenna had wounded their pride to a degree it could not be recovered. Then suddenly, as if she were privy to his thoughts, Makenna addressed the small group.

“I cannot thank you two men for sparring with me. It has been some time that someone has tested what took me so many years to learn. You both should be commended. And while Colin and Dunlop can best discern whether your skills should be honed with more stick training, I can attest of your strength and talent. If you train hard and listen, you will be able to avoid my attacks in less than half the time it took me to learn them.”

Auburn and Korbin stared at her in open disbelief.

Makenna perceived their soundless expression, but she noticed that along with their skepticism, a little of their dignity was repaired. “We are fortunate to have such talent protecting our clan. I must go now, and I doubt I will be able to return any time soon. But I hope to see you again, perhaps during the evening meal in the hall.”

Makenna smiled, waved at the small group, and grabbed the reins to her horse quite pleased with herself. Every man in sight was flabbergasted into silence. She swung onto her horse, and asked Brodie to see her back to Lochlen, knowing that her husband would want to stay.

Colin watched his wife leave with grace and dignity. Never had he felt such pride in a clanswoman, and she was his wife.

Dunlop ordered Auburn and Korbin to go see the midwife to stitch their wounds. The minor cuts Makenna had given them would have healed on their own, but ones they inflicted upon each other were much worse. It would be at least two weeks, maybe longer before they were healed enough to practice again with their group.

Turning around, Dunlop saw an ashen Colin. “Laird? Is something wrong?”

Colin shook his head no, not daring to speak. It wasn’t until Dunlop said the word “midwife” that Colin realized what he had done.

Makenna could be carrying their child unknowingly even now. Since his arrival, he had carried on about how she was wild and reckless with her life. Today, out of pride in wanting to show all her skill, he had needlessly put her and the potential life of his unborn son in danger. How could he have been so senseless?

Never again, Colin vowed. Never again would he allow possible harm to fall upon her.

Chapter Eleven

Makenna leaned against the cool stones framing her chamber window and stared down at the busy people below. Part of her felt obligated to join them; but a larger part knew her health and mind needed this break. Almost two months had passed since that July morning she had sparred with Gorten, and in that time, she had not taken another full day off.

Colin was working equally as hard. Every morning he was in the village handling immediate clansmen’s needs before riding to the training fields for the remainder of the day. Some nights he fell into bed exhausted, too tired to mutter a word, much less summon the energy to make love to her. Makenna would lie down and hug him to her side, content just to have him home and in their bed. His arm would curl around her possessively, reminding her there was more to their relationship than passion.

Today would be her third try at a day off; she and Gannon had established a rotating schedule that gave them both a chance to rest. Guilt had persuaded her to forgo her first break and offer assistance where she knew she could be of help. The second time, an accident in the kitchen with the new baker required her medical attention. Benny was young, but everyone had taken to him immediately. A natural comic, the boy made Makenna laugh whenever she was near him. He was one of the new staff she hoped would stay for years to come.

Makenna let the tapestry fall back into place partially covering the window. She knew exactly what she wanted to do to relax. She donned one of her warmer bliauts and set out to find Brodie to let him know she was ready to leave.

Within the half hour, Makenna and her guard breached Lochlen’s outer walls and cantered toward the River Dye Water. Feeling the air whip through her hair was both invigorating and cathartic.

Makenna knew that much of the strain and stress associated with her position as Lady McTiernay stemmed from Lochlen being so short-staffed and the frequent, intentional sabotages to progress. Despite these setbacks, she was becoming more adept at managing all the work and the people at Lochlen Castle. Though her confidence had grown, she could never see herself truly enjoying the burden of responsibility.

Makenna urged her mount to move into a full gallop and thought about her biggest conundrum of late. Colin.

Although he denied it, Makenna was positive Colin regretted his decision to let her spar with his men. Immediately following her match with the two boys, Colin had seemed happy, almost proud of her abilities. Yet later that night when he returned to Lochlen, his happiness and satisfaction had morphed into something difficult to name. Whatever it was, it continued to haunt his demeanor toward her.

Colin was not angry. He was not disappointed, nor did he exhibit shame. The nights he came home early, he was an amazing lover and willingly conversed about his day. It was when she spoke of
her
duties and activities that his mood darkened. It mattered not the topic. The crops, the canning, the preparation for winter—each would alter his disposition and result in moody silence. She could not discern what was so alarming about helping Gannon run the keep or manage the harvest.

Feeling the large sorrel-colored steed run at a steady pace, Makenna let go of the reins and spread her arms open, sensing the wind on her face. It felt like years, not months, had zoomed by since she had ridden in this carefree way. Makenna had forgotten how wonderful the sensation was.

She had just closed her eyes when she felt someone yank her off her mount in one powerful swoop.

Landing most uncomfortably, Makenna exclaimed, “Brodie, what the hell!” while twisting to address the man who almost killed them both with such a stupid move.

Colin pulled back his reins and slowed his mount to a slow gait.

“Colin!” Makenna shouted, recognizing her husband. She quickly looked around to see if Brodie was nearby and spied the guard riding opposite their direction to capture her horse. She tried adjusting to a more comfortable position, but Colin’s arm would not budge. “You could have just told me that you wished to talk. There was no need for such dramatics,” she scolded.

Colin refused to speak. He was fully aware that his tightly leashed anger had been spawned from abject fear. But the vision of her riding full-out across the fields with her arms opened wide would haunt his dreams forever. In his vision, the horse stumbled or she became unbalanced. Whatever the cause, the result was always the same—Makenna fell to her death. The idea of her being ripped away from him was unbearable. He would never survive such a loss.

Colin knew he was falling in love, and it frightened him.

Loving Makenna made him vulnerable, in many more ways than he had ever been with Deirdre. Over the past few weeks, he had grown to enjoy their discussions about various clan happenings. She had a different perspective; one he had quickly learned to respect. It was reassuring knowing that even when he was not there, Makenna supported him in both speech and action. And the nights…he never understood what a comfort it could be just to hold someone close as they slept.

Life was good. Love would only disrupt the solitude and peace he had found.

Colin kept silent as he turned the black toward Lochlen.

Makenna watched him in fulminating silence. Colin’s chest and back rippled with tension as he worked the reins of his horse. The one time he did look down at her, the expression in his sapphire eyes was almost unreadable. It seemed to fluctuate between fear and fury. The muscle in the side of his cheek was flexed, accentuating his clenched jaw.

Makenna had no idea why Colin was so angry, but one thing was for certain, when he did finally speak, it would be loud and explosive.

Impatient to discover what had him so mad, Makenna slanted him a questioning glance. “I cannot imagine what has set off this latest crazed action of yours, Colin, but I would like to understand.”

He told himself it was
not
love that had caused his heart to thump wildly at seeing her so close to potential death. “You’re my wife. I take care of what belongs to me.”

Makenna tried twice more to discover the root of his anger, but Colin refused to speak again. Instead, he rode directly into the inner ward, slid off his black, and then proceeded to carry her up and into her personal room within Forfar Tower. Once there, he let her go and without any explanation for his mood or action, he moved to leave.

She felt empty, angry, and cold.

Her first day of relaxation in months was turning into the worst day of her marriage.

Makenna ran to block the doorway. “Oh, no, you don’t. Do not think for one moment that you can deposit me in my old chambers as if I were a child and then leave. I have done nothing that warrants this treatment.”

“Nothing? You call nearly killing yourself riding arms wide open at a full gallop nothing?”

Makenna listened in bewilderment. “This was all because of how I was
riding?
You will have to do better than that, Colin McTiernay.”

Colin caught Makenna by the shoulders, forcing her to look up and face him. “Do you want me to do better? Then how about this? You are never to ride in any fashion I would deem unsafe, and that includes dashing about the countryside as fast you can ride. It is dangerous, and I won’t allow it. I’m considering switching your mount with one that is older and unable to move at such speeds just to ensure that my orders are followed. And another matter, I don’t want you sparring with the men again, and that includes Gorten. I’m not sure I even want you carrying around your sword.”

Makenna crossed her arms. The man was indeed crazed if he truly thought she would agree to any of his nonsense. She didn’t care what reasons spawned this dramatic change in attitude, but Colin was just going to have to get over them. “No.”

Her simple, but emphatic reply startled him. He let go of her shoulders and stalked across the room. “You cannot say no. I am the laird of this clan and its people and that includes you,” Colin stated, using his most authoritative voice.

Makenna was unmoved. “Aye, you are laird, but I will bow to no man’s unjust request, laird or not, husband or not.”

Colin had been in countless rows with Makenna, but never had he heard icy brittleness in her voice before. “Unjust? I have every right to protect what is mine from harm. Had it ever occurred to you that you might fall? Or what would happen if you were not quick enough when sparring and was speared by my man’s sword?”

Makenna boldly met his gaze. “Do you think I have never been injured? Colin, surely you jest! I have both fallen and have been cut a great many times. You have seen my body. It is riddled with scars as reminders to each mistake. I have no doubt that I will fall and be hurt again, but that is no reason for me to give up the things I love. What you ask is impossible. Even for you, I will not stop being who I am.”

Colin grabbed the stone-carved mantel above the unlit hearth and took a firm grip on his resolve. He had to stay calm and rational if he was going to win this war. “If not for me, then do it for the sake of our child.”

Makenna frowned. “Our child? Colin, again you make no sense.”

“Makenna,” he began, “you understand how babies are made.”

She tossed her hair behind her shoulders and went to sit down. “Don’t be silly. I know as well as you. And I also know that we have not been married long enough for me to be with child. Why, we married only three months ago.”

“Aye, three months in which practically every night you sleep in my arms.”

Makenna’s hand went to her stomach. She had felt no differently in the mornings, but not all women reacted badly in their first months of the babe’s growth. Could she be? Her monthlies were inconsistent, and she never paid much heed to when they came.

She calmed her racing thoughts. She was
not
pregnant. It would be impossible. “So? You were married to my sister for over a year, and she never conceived.”

Colin snorted. “Makenna, couples usually have to make love more than a handful of times to conceive. You and I are together more in one night than Deirdre allowed in six months.”

“But you…and she…I thought…” The halting words stumbled and disappeared without completion.

Colin sighed and raked his hair. He turned and moved by the window and looked down to the inner ward. “Deirdre didn’t…enjoy the physical part of our marriage. She tried a few times. Maybe she was too frail. I loved her and wanted to protect her, not hurt her.”

It explained so much of her sister, and her strange decisions, the reasons behind which she never divulged. “Is that why she kept her old room?” Makenna asked, her voice full of hesitation.

“Aye. Deirdre stepped in my bedroom only once when we were married. Maybe out of guilt, maybe out of fear. After our last coupling, I decided to wait and let her come to me when she was ready. She never came.”

Makenna blinked and then stared down at her hands in her lap. So, just as Deirdre had not been the model lady of the castle, she had not been the ideal wife. Still, Colin had loved her. He even freely admitted it just now. Words he had never spoken to Makenna. Until now, the pain of their absence had been manageable.

If Deirdre had not been the ideal wife or the ideal lady, why had Colin loved her so? The only answer that made any sense was her grace, how she made those around her feel, but most of all her delicate beauty unmarred by masculine hobbies. All qualities Makenna would never possess.

Makenna could feel her fingers being pulled into his strong hands. She glanced up and saw Colin squatting in front of her, his blue eyes large and compelling. “Now do you understand? Do you believe that you could be carrying our child? Do you understand that I cannot have another life taken from me? I will do anything and everything to protect you and our child from harm, including taking away those things that you love.”

Colin stood and sank into a chair next to hers. He stared at the cold ashes. “It is not pleasant to speak of such things. I will do so only this once. I loved Deirdre…I loved her very much,” he began softly. “But our marriage was different from the one you and I share. Maybe it would have grown better, if she had not been taken from me. I will never know.” Colin paused.

Makenna could feel her heart pounding. She wanted to scream and tell him it was too painful hearing about his love for her sister. It was cruel for him to speak with such reverence about his late wife. Instead, she sat in pained silence, listening.

Colin squeezed his eyes shut. Remembering. “I used to wish that I had died with her that night.”

“You don’t anymore?” Makenna asked, her voice barely capable of being heard.

“No.”

Makenna waited for him to continue, to give her some verbal balm for her heart. That he was glad to be alive, because of her, of what they shared…something. Instead, he briefly gave her an artificial smile and then looked away again.

“I know giving up some of the things you love will be hard, but just to be fair, I want to give you something as well. I have not been pleased with the amount of work you’ve been doing while managing the keep. Your load is too much. I want you to have Gannon assign your duties to someone else. Now, won’t this make you happy?”

Makenna nodded stiffly. She would curb her sparring and riding, but she would not inflict more work on the few people she had supporting Lochlen. But, rather than argue, she whispered, “I understand, Colin.”
Much more than I want to,
she added only to herself.

Colin pulled her into a tender embrace. Makenna complied but felt oddly separated from herself. The piece of her heart that enabled her to feel completely free and safe with Colin, the piece that gave her hope that someday he would feel for her some of what she felt for him, had died. She felt like running away and crying.

 

A shadow quietly crept down the tower staircase and exited unseen. It had been a close call. Makenna was supposed to have been out of the castle for several more hours, allowing plenty of time to search Her Ladyship’s room. Lela had no idea for what, but Leon seemed sure Makenna was hiding something of value. Something she would recognize as important as soon as she spied it.

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