Page 2 of Rescued by the Highland Warrior (The MacKinloch Clan #4)

T hroughout the journey back to Glen Arrin, Dougal questioned what he was doing. He should take Celeste back to Eiloch where she belonged—not to his family. God help him, he’d never thought to see her again.

She was still the most exquisite woman he’d ever known. Her hair was an unusual color, a blend of fair strands and brown, almost as if polished wood were touched with gold. It was coiled into braids, pinned up on her head, and she’d discarded her veil somewhere. She wore no jewels, but her gown was made of finely woven wool, dark green like the leaves of the forest. Tall and slender, she carried herself like the noblewoman she’d become. In her blue eyes, he saw the way she was fighting back her fears.

He didn’t know what had happened with her husband, but the bitterness of jealousy had not left him. She’d grown more beautiful over these past two years, her slender body transformed into a mature woman’s. But she’d given herself to Edmon de Laurent. She’d made her choice, and it wasn’t him.

Honor prevented him from riding away. But as soon as he brought her to Glen Arrin, he intended to leave her with his brothers’ wives. Let them decide what to do with her, for he wanted no part of this woman.

She still affected him strongly, even now. It had grown worse when he’d watched her drink from the pool. One of the water droplets had slid over her pale skin, beneath her gown. The wool clung to generous breasts, and he had to shut off his imagination to keep the unbidden desire under control.

Why in the name of God had she traveled here? He didn’t doubt that there was unrest after the death of her husband, but didn’t she realize how dangerous it was? Although he and his brothers had kept the English at bay for many years, there were always raids from neighboring clans or English soldiers who entertained themselves by attacking their fortress.

A beautiful woman with only two escorts was open prey. She wouldn’t last an hour out here alone. He led her through the valley, noting the determination on her face.

But even more disconcerting was the way she kept glancing over at him. Almost as if she was trying to discern how to heal the broken years between them.

He didn’t trust her at all. There were secrets beneath that treacherous face, and she wanted something—wanted it badly enough to run away from home. And it wasn’t merely an escort.

They rode for hours without speaking as they drew closer to Glen Arrin. The castle wasn’t large, but it was enough for clan gatherings. Although Alex had offered him a chamber of his own within the main dwelling, Dougal preferred the house he’d built on the outskirts.

Celeste slowed the pace of her horse as they approached, her eyes widening at the sight of Glen Arrin. When they rode through the gates, the castle towered high above the stone walls, an imposing structure that would defend them from all enemies.

“It’s much larger than I thought it would be.” She took in the sight of the structure, adding, “I heard that it burned down years ago.”

He nodded. “We tried to keep to ourselves after we defeated the English. Our peace was hard won.”

Although they’d paid the price in blood, he didn’t believe for a moment that the truce would last. King Edward would rise up against the Scots, and Dougal and his brothers had no choice but to be ready.

His brothers had gained control of this region, and the MacKinloch Clan held great power. Still, they never ceased the endless training, the preparation for a battle that could be brought to their gates. Allies were necessary to their survival, and he suspected that his brother would want to learn more about the upheaval at Eiloch.

For a widow, Celeste did not appear grief-stricken over the death of her husband. Instead, she seemed far more disturbed by the prospect of harm coming to her sister. Dougal tucked that thought away as he led her inside.

He didn’t miss the startled looks on the faces of his kinsmen. A few sent him sly smiles, as if he’d plucked the woman from the ground like a delicate flower. They didn’t know anything about her, or the years he’d courted Celeste at Locharr, where they’d met. To them, she was a stranger, and he was grateful for that.

He led her through the inner bailey, directly toward the castle. Nairna, Bram’s wife, caught sight of him, while she held the hand of her young niece. In her other hand was a comb, and the girl sent her aunt an indignant look.

“Have you brought a visitor with you, Dougal?” Nairna asked. She smiled warmly at the pair of them, but he didn’t miss the gleam in her eyes. She had been trying to find a wife for him over the past year. He’d ignored her efforts, avoiding the women as best he could. Yet, he knew exactly what Nairna was thinking.

And he had no intention of letting her draw false conclusions. “Lady Eiloch has asked for our protection over the next few days. She can tell you more about what’s happened.” He reached up to help Celeste dismount, but the woman was staring at him, her mouth set in a frown. “I’ll be with the horses.”

He didn’t give either of them a chance to argue but seized his escape. With the reins in both hands, he retreated to the stables. Better to leave Celeste with Nairna and the other women, where he wouldn’t have to look upon her face or question what she truly wanted from him.

It was as if he’d been so eager to get rid of her, he couldn’t leave fast enough. Celeste wasn’t surprised by Dougal’s retreat, but it left her feeling uneasy.

“Don’t be worrying yourself about Dougal,” the young woman said. “I think you made him nervous. I am Nairna, wife of Bram MacKinloch. And this is my niece Ailsa, who has not yet learned to comb her hair, it seems.” She held up the comb, and the brown-haired girl eyed it as if it were a weapon.

“Aunt Nairna, please,” the girl moaned.

“Either do it properly, or you’ll bring shame upon your parents.” She handed the comb over to the girl, gently guiding Celeste to follow her. “We are fostering her while Callum has my boys. Callum is Dougal’s older brother.” All the while she guided her inside the castle, Nairna kept talking, her bright voice filling up the awkward space.

But when they entered the Hall, Celeste was caught spellbound, her feet no longer able to walk another step. Above them was a round window made of colored glass. It was a depiction of the Madonna holding an infant child with bold colors of sapphire and emerald shining through like jewels. It took her breath away. She’d only seen one window like it, in a cathedral when she’d journeyed south to Edinburgh with her husband.

“Our chief’s wife, Laren, made that,” Nairna said. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Celeste nodded. But the image of the Holy Mother cradling a child struck her hard. Would she be holding an infant of her own by next spring? Or would she and her sister have to fight Rowena for her share of the land?

She knew the simplest solution was to conceive a child, but every part of her conscience railed at the idea. It wasn't right to use Dougal in that way. Her idea had been born of desperation as a last effort to protect her sister and herself. But it was wrong. And now, she didn't know what to do.

If there was any other way, she would have to find it quickly.

Nairna led her up a winding stone staircase that led into a small solar. There, Celeste found a red-haired woman sitting beside the window, dipping her quill into ink as she drew shapes. An older girl sat beside her, the young face intent upon the drawings.

“Are you teaching her your secrets?” Nairna said in a teasing voice. Nodding toward the woman, she said, “This is Laren, who made the glass you admired. And her eldest daughter Mairin.” Turning back to Celeste, she added, “This is Celeste de Laurent, the Lady of Eiloch.”

Laren glanced up, and a slight frown marred her lips as if she’d recognized the name. Swiftly, she recovered and asked, “Are there other visitors with you, Lady Eiloch?”

Celeste shook her head. “My men were attacked and killed on the journey here. Dougal saved my life, and I owe him my thanks.” She studied Laren for a moment, wondering if the chief’s wife knew of her. But if she did, the woman said nothing at all. Celeste didn’t know whether to be glad of it or dismayed that Dougal had never spoken of her to his family.

“I am in need of help,” Celeste continued. “Not only for me, but also for my younger sister.” Her gaze centered on the older girl, whom she guessed to be slightly younger than Melisandre. She explained to the women about Rowena’s intent to force them out. “I can’t let that happen,” she finished.

“Then why did you leave her behind?” Nairna asked.

“Their anger was directed toward me, not her. They did not wish to give up my widow’s portion, when Lionel de Laurent inherited my husband’s lands. I left Melisandre with my maid. I trust her to take care of my sister until I return.” She felt uneasy explaining all this to the women.

“I will speak to my husband and ask what can be done,” Laren said, setting down her quill. “Dougal may be able to accompany you back to Eiloch, to bring your sister to safety.”

Nairna sent Laren a conspiratorial smile. Abruptly, she asked Celeste, “Did you find him handsome?”

She blinked at that. “Well, yes, but—” He meant far more to me than that , she wanted to say. At the pleased look on Nairna’s face, she found herself unable to say any more.

“Nairna, don’t,” Laren warned. To Celeste, she added, “We will hold a feast this night to welcome you to Glen Arrin. It has been some time since we’ve had any visitors. And our husbands will discuss how to help you.”

“And how we can coerce Dougal into being your protector,” Nairna said. “He’s been alone for far too long.” She beckoned to Ailsa, taking the comb and guiding it through the girl’s tangled hair. Deftly, she braided the strands, tying it off with a bit of thread.

“It’s too soon for that,” Laren argued. “She buried her husband only a short while ago, Nairna.”

The woman sobered, her hand coming up to rest on her throat. “You’re right, of course. I spoke without thinking.” Her face had gone pale, and she admitted, “I would die if anything happened to Bram. Please don’t be upset with me.”

“My husband and I were friends,” Celeste said. “I’ll miss him, of course, but the marriage was arranged.” Truthfully, she had not thought of Edmon a great deal. Aside from sharing meals and a bed with him, he’d been too busy overseeing the estates. She had felt like an old cloak in many ways—there when he needed her, but Celeste didn’t delude herself into believing Edmon had ever cared about her. He’d wanted her as a possession, not someone to love. Now that he was gone, she felt a slight sense of loss, but it was not heartrending.

What troubled her more was Dougal. She felt as if she were walking upon a barely frozen lake with him, afraid of taking any misstep. It wasn’t clear how he felt about her, and she was wary of saying the wrong thing.

“Don’t be embarrassed by me,” Nairna apologized. “I tend to speak my mind and ask the questions I want to know. You needn’t answer anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“She’ll find out the answers anyway,” Ailsa remarked, under her breath.

Nairna smiled at her niece, but her eyes gave a warning. Waving a hand, she ordered the girls out. “Go and begin the preparations. The men and women can bring foods to share, and we’ll have music as well.”

When the girls had gone, Celeste steadied her nerves. Tonight, she would confront Dougal and learn whether he was willing to help her. If he refused, she could speak to some of the other men. Although she hadn’t the least idea of whether anyone would want to assist her, she had to try. Gaining the support of Nairna and Laren would make it easier, if she could find the right way to broach the subject.

An idea struck her, one that might work. Although it meant stretching the truth, it was better than the alternative.

“I wonder if you could help me,” she began, feeling humiliated by what she must ask. “There is . . . another way I could protect my sister. If I were to find someone appropriate to marry.”

As she’d predicted, Nairna warmed to her suggestion. “There are many unmarried men among the MacKinlochs,” the woman agreed.

Laren held up a hand, intervening, “But you’re wanting a nobleman, are you not?”

“I want a man who can keep us safe,” Celeste answered, trying to hold to the truth as much as possible. “And I don’t wish to be a burden upon anyone.” She crossed her arms, feeling embarrassed by the confession, though it was true.

The two women exchanged looks. “Dougal is unmarried and he’s quite good at keeping a woman safe,” Nairna suggested. “But there are others who might suit, as well.” Without letting her answer, the woman studied Celeste. “The women like Dougal because he’s handsome and quiet. They won’t be glad of your arrival, I can tell you that.”

Celeste made no reply, though she wasn’t anticipating the interference of other women. “Could you help me find some possible candidates? And tell me what should I do to attract the right sort of man?” Her cheeks burned at the lies she was speaking, though likely they would believe she was simply embarrassed.

The truth was, she couldn’t imagine flirting the way other women did. She didn’t know how to smile in a way that drew a man to her. Even the idea of trying to seduce one was horrifying.

Nairna tilted her head to one side. “The gown you’re wearing is nice enough, but you need something to help you. She went into a small chest and brought out a golden necklace with colored green glass as a pendant. “Wear this.”

She fastened the chain around Celeste’s neck, and the pendant fell just between her breasts.

“Perfect,” Nairna pronounced. “It will draw his attention in the right direction.” When Celeste gaped at her, Nairna laughed. “Don’t look at me like that, Lady Eiloch. You were married. You know where the men will be looking.”

She reached for the pendant, feeling even more disconcerted by all this. Laren was the one who saw through her nerves and added, “Unless her marriage was not a good one.”

Nairna’s smile faded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think of that.”

Celeste let out a slow breath. “Our marriage was much the same as any other. He desired me and our union was good enough.”

“Did you love him?” Laren asked. The woman’s voice was soft, sympathetic in her tone.

There were no true words to describe it. Edmon had been a reasonable husband, and he’d shared her bed each night. Their marriage had been comfortable.

“No, I didn’t love him,” she said at last. “But he would understand that I must do whatever I can to protect my sister from harm.”

Nairna came behind her with a comb in her hand. Slowly, she began unfastening the braids, loosening the strands until they hung in waving curls down Celeste’s back. “Do not cover your hair tonight, and do not wear it up.” She combed through the strands, and then arranged them over Celeste’s shoulders. “If you see a man who interests you, let one of us know, and we will help.”

Nairna turned to face her. “I don’t know you at all, Lady Eiloch. Thus far, you seem like a good woman. But I should be warning you—” she lowered her hands to her sides, her eyes turning serious “—treat our men with care. They are strong warriors, who would die for their women. We would do the same for them.”

At the feast that night, the mead was poured freely, as fast as the men and women could drink. Dougal remained apart from the others, watching as his brothers’ wives introduced Lady Eiloch to several men of the clan. Although it was likely that Nairna and Laren meant nothing by it, Dougal found himself unable to take his gaze from her.

Her hair was down, falling in waves past her hips. Nairna had loaned her a glass necklace, and Dougal didn’t doubt that every man was staring at the place where the pendant was nestled. Those who were even more drunk would start fights amongst themselves for a chance to be with her.

It wasn’t his concern. Why should he care if his kinsmen wanted to steal a moment away with Celeste? She meant nothing to him anymore. He intended to return to the horses, taking his leave from the crowd.

And yet . . . his feet would not move. It was as if an invisible spell had woven itself around him, making it impossible to do anything except watch her. Celeste stood surrounded by men, and yet, she stole a glance at him as if pleading with him to save her. Although she’d managed a smile toward his kinsmen, he could see her discomfort growing. She picked at her food, refusing several who asked her to dance. He knew, even if they didn’t, that she hated dancing.

Dougal finished his own fare, but it was tasteless. Even with the sweetness of the mead to wash it down, he took no pleasure in the feasting.

“I never thought you were a coward.”

Dougal turned and saw his eldest brother, Bram, standing behind him. He didn’t know what his brother meant, but he suspected it had much to do with his avoidance of Lady Eiloch. “She’s fine enough on her own.”

“She doesn’t want those men, despite Nairna’s efforts to make a match. Her attention is on you. Why do you not go and speak with her?”

Because she made her choice.

Dougal felt the suffocating tension rising up inside him. Seeing her among his family was abrading his mood, making him wish they would all leave him alone. “She wants my protection, nothing more.”

“Then you’re blind, lad.”

He bristled at that. He wasn’t an adolescent lad anymore, but a man grown. “I’ve better things to do.” Like drink himself into a stupor, to forget the way it had felt to be in her arms, to taste her lips.

“You’re afraid of her,” Bram predicted. His brother was baiting him, but Dougal refused to play any part of this game.

“I’m afraid of nothing. Especially her.” He strode across the crowd, his mouth tight with anger. There was only one place he wanted to be right now—far away from the prying eyes of family members.

As if in answer to his dark mood, many women smiled at him as he passed. Several were fair of face, but he ignored them all. As he drew nearer, Celeste’s eyes never left his.

His feet stopped moving, though he’d wanted to keep going. She was staring at him, a silent question in her eyes. He knew how much she hated people watching her. Like him, she wanted to be apart from everyone else.

Don’t, his mind warned. The best course of action was to keep walking to leave her behind. Hadn’t he learned anything since the last time?

And yet, he held out his hand to her. She took it without question, following him away from the MacKinlochs. Her hand was cool in his, the skin softer than he remembered. She said nothing at all but continued to walk with him to the stables.

“Thank you,” she said at last. “I was feeling overwhelmed around so many people.” She released his hand, even as she continued to walk alongside him. The evening was warm, and the scent of her skin caught his attention with the faintness of flowers. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, brushing against his hand.

In his mind, Dougal wanted to press her up against the fence, forcing her to admit that she’d chosen to wed the wrong man. He craved her kiss, and he wanted to touch more of her bare skin. But he pushed the errant thoughts away.

He stopped before the fence that enclosed the clan’s horses. Ivory trotted closer, likely expecting a carrot or a piece of dried apple. But instead of coming to his side, she stopped before Lady Eiloch.

“You’re a sweet girl,” she murmured, rubbing the mare’s nose. “I can’t imagine that anyone would want to hurt you.”

“Is that why you ran away?” Dougal asked quietly. “Was someone trying to hurt you?”

He hadn’t thought of it in that light, but she’d left so quickly, it was possible. The idea of another man trying to claim her made him tense.

Celeste nodded slowly. “And because I need help.” Her gaze fixed upon him, and suddenly, she reached out to touch his shoulder. “If you’re willing.”

The word willing slid through him with an entirely different meaning. He opened the gate and moved away from her, using the mare as a means of repressing the desire she’d conjured. Did she even understand what she was doing? Was she trying to push him closer to the edge?

“Why would I be?” Without waiting for an answer, he went inside the stables and brought out a brush to tend to the mare. Though he’d already taken care of Ivory earlier, he was looking for any distraction.

“Because I think I know something you do want.” She opened the gate, following him. “And it’s something I could give to you.”

Violent heat roared through him. His lust-filled imagination provoked him with images of her silken skin, her eyes filled with desire.

And yet, when he turned to her, he saw naught but innocence in her eyes.

“Go back to the others,” he warned. She had no idea how much he desired her, how his control was stretched to breaking point. “I want nothing from you.”

“I meant only—” Her fingers touched his, and that was all it took to snap the thread of restraint. Dougal pressed her back against the wooden fence, his hands around her waist. Leaning in, he snarled, “I’m not feeling very honorable right now. I said you should go.”

Most women would have fled at that very moment. She looked frightened, but instead of leaving, she whispered, “I would offer you a horse. A stallion to breed with your mare.”

Her words penetrated the cloud of desire thrumming in his veins. A horse, she’d said. Not herself.

“There are no Arabians this far north.”

“My husband had one,” she murmured. “It was given to him last year. He’s black, with a white star on his forehead.”

“Is that what you think I want?” He had to know her purpose, and from the sudden confusion on her face, he suspected it was.

“Isn’t it?” The question hovered between them, and when her lips pressed together, he grew suddenly aware that she had not tried to push free of him. Instead, she’d remained trapped in his embrace, as if she, too, wanted him.

“Your mare is important to you,” she whispered. “I only thought you might want another horse like her.”

“The horse isn’t yours to give,” he warned. No one alive would let a valuable war stallion go, not because of a woman’s wishes.

“I keep my promises,” she said. “And if you will help me find a way to keep my sister safe, the horse will be yours. If you want him.”

Her hands moved to rest upon his chest. Aye, he did want a horse to breed with Ivory. She was a lovely mare and would make a good dam, with the right sire for her foals.

“Why me?” he demanded. “Such a horse is worth more than a chest of silver.” That, he knew well, for he’d paid nearly that much for Ivory.

“What I would ask of you is not an easy thing.” Her hands came up to his face, as if there were not two years of distance between them. As if she’d conjured up the past, reminding him of how she’d ensnared him.

The soft caress was his undoing. Pressing himself close to her, Dougal growled, “You don’t ken what you’re doing, lass.”

“No,” she whispered. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” And she lifted her mouth to his, kissing him softly.

From the moment Celeste kissed him, she tasted the tension in Dougal's body. Like a frosted pane of ice, he didn’t respond to her kiss at all. Her cheeks burned, for she’d thrown herself at him, only to find that he didn’t want her. Her embarrassment went so deep, she was drowning in it. She pulled back immediately, wishing she’d never given in to impulse.

There was no love remaining within him. Not even desire, it seemed.

“What was that for?” he demanded, his face rigid. In his dark eyes, she saw suspicion and a glimpse of a man who would not allow anyone to break past his invisible boundaries.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I—I thought—”

I thought we could go back to the way it was before. But how terrible was it to find that he didn’t desire her? That she had misread him and was wasting her time with a man who would not yield to a moment of madness?

“You were wrong, Celeste.” His voice slid over her with the dark trace of danger. She expected him to release her, to push her aside even. But instead, he kept his hands on either side of her, leaving her trapped against the fence. She lifted her eyes to his, and in his expression, she saw wariness.

“You tempted me,” she admitted. “I wanted to know if it would be the same as before.”

But it wasn’t. Not anymore.

Dougal used his height to intimidate her, and she grew well aware that this man was not one who would let a woman make demands of him. His dark hair hung below his shoulders, and though he was lean, she sensed that every inch of him was hardened with muscle. If she tried to seduce him, he would be very different from her husband. The thought sent a prickling rush through her skin. “It will never be like it was before.”

“I’m grateful to you for bringing me to safety,” she said quietly. “The kiss was my mistake, and it won’t happen again.” She expected him to back away from her, now that her pride was shattered into a thousand pieces.

But instead, he held her there, his dark eyes discerning. It was difficult to keep her thoughts clear when he was watching her like this. She turned her gaze aside and saw that the mare was grazing behind Dougal, the moonlight reflected against the animal’s silvery coat.

“I meant what I said, about giving you the Arabian stallion,” she added. “But if you want nothing more to do with me, I’ll understand.” She kept her gaze averted, not wanting to see his refusal.

“I’m not as daft as you think I am,” he said in a low voice.

“I never said you were.” Somehow, she’d triggered his anger, and she wasn’t certain how to soothe him. But she was entirely aware of the way his arms rested on either side of her, his body shadowing hers like a predator.

He held her imprisoned, his face resting against hers. “You’re wanting something else from me,” he predicted, lifting her chin. “Something you won’t tell. I know you better than any other man here. But I’m not one to be swayed by sweet words and soft kisses.”

“Nor horses, it seems.” She couldn’t tear her gaze from him, and the touch of his hand warmed her skin. “Just let it be, Dougal. I won’t ask anything of you anymore.” She turned her cheek and pushed his hand aside.

“Did you ever kiss your husband like that?” he demanded.

Blood rushed into her cheeks, and she wondered why he was asking such a thing. Why would he care? “Edmon didn’t like kissing.”

If she didn’t know better, she’d swear the answer pleased him. His shadowed face was unreadable, and she didn’t know what he wanted from her now. She was about to demand that he release her, when this time, Dougal leaned in again.

“Was I the only one, then?”

Her heartbeat shuddered, and she was held captive by his deep voice. “Your kiss was the only one that ever mattered.”

His arms encircled her waist, and she didn’t stop him when he leaned in to claim her mouth. The kiss began with heated breath, firm and coaxing. She was lost in the touch of his mouth while his hands rested upon her hips. His mouth offered an invitation, not a conquest. When she opened to him, kissing him back, it transformed entirely.

Memories poured through her, of the way he’d taught her to kiss. Of the stolen moments when they’d practiced with each other.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hold a clear thought while his hot mouth was upon hers. Heat pulsed through her body, her blood awakening as his mouth slid against hers. Bold and unrestrained, his tongue thrust against hers, demanding her surrender.

Without understanding why, her arms moved around his neck, and his hard body pressed against hers. She could feel his arousal against the juncture of her thighs, and the pressure wasn’t at all frightening. Instead, she curved against him, welcoming his strength against her softness. Between her legs, there was an aching emptiness.

Desire. Need like she’d not experienced before was there in the way his tongue moved within her mouth. She wanted him to bare her skin, to feel his mouth kissing her everywhere. A shudder rocked through her when he rubbed himself against her.

When he released her, his dark eyes were raging. “Stay away from me, Lady Eiloch. Unless you plan to finish what we started.”

With that, he strode away, leaving her with weak knees and a pounding heart.