To Wed A Highlander (5 page)

“I must say that while the Dunstan colors clash horribly with your hair, this McTiernay plaid does just the opposite,” Ula commented as she finished pinning the pleats of the dark plaid so that it hung off one shoulder and flowed to the floor without disturbing the beauty of the blue bliaut that lay beneath. “When your husband—”

“He’s not my husband yet,” Makenna countered, hoping that by some miracle Colin never would be.

“Fine, when your
soon-to-be
husband handed me his plaid and instructed that you wear it today, I was concerned it would mar the overall look Rona and I spent hours trying to create. But it has done just the opposite. Don’t you think, sister?”

Rona moved alongside Makenna plucking at phantom pieces of dust before agreeing with Ula’s assessment via a long-winded speech, which spawned a rambling response from Ula and another from Rona.

Makenna tuned them out and again picked up the reflecting dish. She stared into it for several seconds before laying it down. The outward transformation was complete. The navy cloth Ula had used to create her bliaut represented purity and complemented the deep blue in the McTiernay plaid. The rich green of her chemise made the emerald color of her eyes come alive beneath her thick, dark lashes. She looked every bit like a woman about to be married. Her hair was right, her dress was right, her jewelry, even her plaid were just how they should be.

But she was not like any other woman.

Other women knew how to be around men, laugh and flirt with them, manipulating them to do their bidding. Other women would know how to make a man, especially one like Colin, happy. Makenna had never learned the craft. She had never even wanted to. Her sisters believed she desired to be a boy, based on her affinity toward “male-oriented” activities. They were wrong.

Born late and last, Makenna was burdened with four elder sisters. One ignored everybody and everything that was not of the church, but the other three loved to impart instruction whenever possible. Deirdre’s coaching had not been laced with ridicule, but even she had repeatedly reminded Makenna how she didn’t excel at even one domestic activity. By the time Makenna was ten, the difference in their ages became even more apparent as her siblings began to enjoy men’s company and connived of ways to attain it.

Never had Makenna felt more uncomfortable and out of place than when her sisters had entertained. Her awkward, still-growing body never would do what she wanted. Frustrated with her clumsiness, her sisters had ordered her to stay away when guests arrived until she could be in a man’s company without sputtering or knocking something over.

It had been Camus, the wonderful old sword smith, who had come to her rescue. He showed her how to wield a ballock knife. In doing so, Makenna learned how to control her body and understand where she was at all times relative to others and objects around her. In time, she became confident in herself.

Witnessing Makenna’s natural ability and how much she liked the masculine activity, Camus had convinced her father to allow Makenna to continue training. Soon she was able to throw a halberd, and her confidence grew even more as soldiers complimented her skills with the Lochaber axe.

On the training field, Makenna was comfortable around men, never feeling nervous, anxious, or out of place. Only in the great hall did she secretly yearn for her sisters’ effortless ability to converse with men and command their attention as a
female.

After Ula and Rona married, Makenna decided she, too, wanted someone to love. Trying to mimic her sisters’ tricks to gain male attention had been a humiliating disaster. As a result, Makenna decided to perfect those activities men respected and ignore the feminine ones she despised.

Makenna put the reflecting dish back on the table. Now the only way she knew how to be around a man and receive notice or admiration was not through physical looks and silly flirting games but through her skills in riding, hunting, and fighting. Fate was cruel, forcing her to marry the one man who admired neither her abilities nor her as a woman.

Makenna stood as everyone disappeared out the door and down the hallway. It was time. She nervously collected the small bouquet of flowers and herbs one of the servants had gathered that morning and debated one more time whether she was doing the right thing. She looked like someone she wasn’t—someone beautiful, feminine, and fragile. If Colin believed her capable of becoming what she currently appeared to be, they were both doomed.

Makenna descended from the last tower step and exited Forfar’s arched stone entrance. As she came into view, a deafening roar erupted from the crowd gathered in the inner ward. Practically every person shouting was a soldier Colin had recruited and trained.

Drake suddenly appeared on her right and escorted her through the throng to the Dunstan chapel located in the opposite corner of the inner yard. The average-size sanctuary had been unused for the past two years since Father Renoir had vacated his post for one in France after the death of England’s king, Edward I. Deirdre had died soon afterward and neither Colin nor her father had searched for another priest. Consequently, Father Lanaghly, the McTiernay priest, had agreed to travel from the Highlands and preside over Colin’s second wedding. When he arrived three days ago, Makenna had been surprised to find the older priest overflowing with kindness and possessing a mischievous twinkle in his deep brown eyes. She wondered whether he would have been so nice if he knew about the friction between her and Colin.

At the chapel tower’s entrance, Drake bowed and left to go inside and join Colin and Dunlop. Makenna took several deep breaths and stepped through the carved stone archway. Immediately the pressure from eyes following her every move came crashing down.

Colin knew the moment Makenna had entered the chapel. Most of the morning he had spent alone and deep in thought. The confusion, the uncertainty he had been feeling about marrying Makenna had vanished the second she responded to his kiss. Never had he dreamed the undisciplined tigress would melt in his arms. But it wasn’t her response that disturbed him the most…it was his. No woman had ever caused him to lose control, and while he had managed to refrain from bedding her yesterday, it had been close. His desire for her was so sudden and intense it had overruled all logic, all conscious awareness, all sanity. He had wanted to devour her and almost had.

He had been the first to truly taste Makenna’s soft lips, and the experience had made him feel powerful and very much a man. It also terrified him.

All morning he had wondered whether he should once again refuse to marry Makenna, but this time for her sake. Deirdre had been terrified of mating because of his size and strength. The protectiveness he felt for his dear wife had overruled his need to make anything but tender love to her the few times they had joined. But with Makenna, he doubted he would have such control. His desire to take her, drive into her, possess her, and make her totally and completely his again and again frightened him. And he had no doubt that if he ever did lose control, it would terrify Makenna and end their inexplicable, passionate connection. Nevertheless, Colin sensed that their coming together was inevitable.

She was the exact opposite of Deirdre. Far from being fragile, Makenna was all fire and spirit, and yet he still wanted to protect her. Rather than quench her zeal for life, he wanted to guard it. And all morning he feared that meant guarding her from him.

As the hour drew nearer for him to marry for the second time, Colin resolved to see it through. He knew he would never love Makenna. He doubted he would ever again risk his heart to any woman. No, he would not vow love, but he would promise his protection and by doing so, it would stretch to the whole Dunstan clan.

Now, as he looked down the small chapel pathway as Makenna walked slowly toward him, all of the morning’s doubts faded. Never before had he seen Makenna look so beautiful, soft, and feminine. She captivated him. She was not beautiful in a traditional sense like his wife or even his sister-in-laws, but in a very powerful way all the same. Her athleticism had given her a firm, thin frame and command over her movements. And though he never recognized it before, Makenna was incredibly graceful.

The colored light from the stained glass windows caught the rich highlights of her upswept hair. The small tiara made of hand-painted golden beads intermixed with blue and green gems completed the look. Normally hidden behind layers of red curls, the delicate nape of Makenna’s neck was now visible, revealing a soft, vulnerable curve begging to be repeatedly kissed. The dark gown complemented Makenna’s fiery features and highlighted the pale flawlessness of her skin. Unlike the typical V-necked bliauts of most women, Makenna wore an off-the-shoulder gown. Its cowl neck was adorned with gold embroidery that matched the stitching on the cuffs of her tight-fitting sleeves. A similarly embroidered band settled low on her hips, accentuating their swaying movement.

Dunlop fought to keep from staring. Makenna was stunning, mesmerizing everyone in the overly full chapel. He quickly scanned the crowd of interested onlookers. Though Colin and Makenna had only just agreed to Alexander’s demand for their union, the ceremony had been scheduled for almost a month. Neighboring lairds interested in seeing the vows or meeting the much-talked-about Colin McTiernay transformed the planned small ceremony into an event that would be talked about for months to come. One very interested visitor was Leon MacCuaig.

“Do you see MacCuaig, Colin?” Dunlop murmured.

“Aye,” Colin lied. He couldn’t take his eyes off Makenna, who looked to be growing more nervous with each step.

“I do not like how he is openly staring at your bride,” Dunlop said lowly through gritted teeth.

The comment got Colin’s attention. He searched for the young southern neighbor. The man was considered extremely good looking by the fairer sex and had a reputation for being deadly when fighting one-on-one with a sword.

Dunlop was correct. The man wore an intense expression of anger and possession. Colin’s eyes narrowed. He was about to order Drake to remove MacCuaig from the chapel when he heard Dunlop exhale a low “This can’t be good….”

Colin immediately transferred his attention back to Makenna, who had inexplicably halted halfway down the path. She was scanning the crowd, her eyes darting here and there, landing on no face longer than a fraction of a second. Then, unfathomably, she turned to him, as if she instinctively knew Colin could and would save her from this fated decision. Her green eyes were dark and large with terror. Colin had never seen Makenna look anything but confident; convinced she knew what she was doing. But every hesitant breath, each gulp she took, and the flickers of her tongue across her bottom lip, forecast what was about to happen. She was about to flee.

“Do not do or say anything,” Colin ordered his commanders without removing his eyes off Makenna. He took a step off the small raised platform and moved toward her. For reasons he could not explain or fathom, last night had forged a bond between them. A bond that transcended their confrontational relationship into something he didn’t yet comprehend, but it enabled him to understand exactly why Makenna stood frozen in terror.

Makenna watched as Colin advanced toward her. Moments ago, glancing side to side seeing the sea of faces, some familiar and some not, she could feel the pressure of all those present upon her. Her father needed a leader for their clan, her people expected her to run their castle, her neighbors questioned their alliances, but worst of all was Colin. He wanted a wife. A real wife in every sense of the word. In just a few steps, her ability to have any say in her life would be over. Panic filled her, causing her to stop, unable to flee in fear or find the courage to continue. Somehow, Colin understood, and he was coming to her rescue.

He stopped in front of her and fought an urge to stroke the softness of her cheek. Instead, he clutched the sword hooked to his belt and leaned closer so that only his lips touched her ear.

As he moved closer to whisper, Makenna had never felt so small, nor he so huge. Yet she didn’t feel fear, or even his normal arrogance. Just understanding. He came close and his breath on her cheek was warm and reassuring. “Makenna, I will make you a good husband, but I will understand and support your decision if you do not want to do this. I’ll never force you into something you don’t want to do.”

Makenna closed her eyes. The words were whispered low, only for her. An unexpected peace washed over her that she had not felt in a long time—perhaps ever. The rich tones of his baritone voice had rung with sincerity. Colin gave her a promise. It was not offered out of desperation or coercion, but from understanding.

He knew.

He knew how much freedom meant to her. How much she feared being caged, physically or spiritually. How terrified she was of being married.

Makenna raised her green eyes and watched his blue ones swirl with emotion. Colin had always seemed so remote, rigid, without emotion. Suddenly she knew his hardness was just a mask he wore. He, too, was filled with a myriad of questions, uncertainties, and doubts.

She wanted to tell him that she knew and understood his worries and his pains. That she understood that he was a strong, proud man who had been second all of his life. Second to his brother, the famed McTiernay laird. Second to her father. And now he had to live with his second choice in marriage.

He needed to be first to someone, somewhere. He needed to know that his needs, dreams, and desires were important, and suddenly Makenna realized they were…to her. Silently, she vowed, “I may not be your first choice for marriage, Colin McTiernay, but you are mine.”

Colin did not completely comprehend what had transpired between them in the few seconds they stood staring at each other in silence. Makenna, always so guarded in the presence of others, now stood unafraid, trusting him. She was a woman aching for passion and full of self-doubt. She needed a man not to tame her as Dunlop suggested, but to reassure her and ignite the fires smoldering within. A man who could do that would be richly rewarded.