Page 6 of Rescued by the Highland Warrior (The MacKinloch Clan #4)

I n the darkness, Celeste put on the gown Marguerite had loaned her. Dougal was sleeping hard, his naked body revealed against the fur pallet. It was quiet within the fortress, and she wanted a few moments alone.

They had spent too long together, making love. She’d been unable to resist him, and now there was no time to escape, no time to ride away with him. She stepped into her shoes, closing the door behind her.

Within the fortress, every archer stood on the battlements, their bows at the ready. Callum was among them, and as soon as Marguerite spied her, she pulled her back inside.

“Don’t. They’ll see you.”

But Celeste ignored the woman, moving along the wall until she reached a crevice that allowed her to see outside the fortress. Lord Eiloch’s soldiers were waiting, surrounding them on all sides. There was no means of escaping them without bloodshed. And it was her fault for drawing them here.

She leaned back against the wall, understanding that many lives would be lost. Possibly even Dougal’s, if they dared to fight back.

From behind, she heard footsteps. Dougal had awakened and dressed so quickly his tunic hung open.

“Stay with Marguerite,” he ordered. “We have archers. And Callum is better than all of them. They won’t make it past the gates.”

“After you’ve killed them, Rowena will send an army here. They’ll butcher your family.” She had no doubt of it, and dismay flooded through her at the thought. She'd brought them away from Glen Arrin, only to increase the threat to Cairnross. They wouldn't give up.

But Dougal's gaze hardened. “They won't if we kill them first.”

She could not allow him to start a war. Turning to face him, she saw the fervor in his eyes. He intended to fight for her, no matter what the cost.

“No.” She moved past him, toward Marguerite. To the woman, she asked, “I want to invite Lord Eiloch inside. I would speak with him now and see if we can come to an agreement without any fighting.” It was time to stop running and do what she could to save them.

“Only if he comes alone,” Dougal said. “His men must stay beyond the gates.”

Lord Eiloch rested his hand upon his sword when he entered. Dougal remained at Celeste’s side, uncertain why she was surrendering so easily. Did she not believe he could defend her? His anger was barely in check, and he was itching for a fight. If the man made one move to harm her, he’d find himself dead.

“I know why you left,” Lord Eiloch began, his gaze fixed upon Celeste. “But it won’t work.”

He raised his eyes to Dougal and a smug look crossed his face. To Celeste, he added, “I suppose you took him as your lover, didn’t you? You thought to conceive a child and pass your bastard off as Edmon’s.”

The stricken look on Celeste’s face was worse than a blow to Dougal’s stomach. It spoke of a truth he’d never imagined. A child? Was that the reason she’d come this far?

When he sent her a questioning look, tears formed in her eyes. And when he glanced at her, they were tears of guilt.

A numbness settled through him, for he’d never imagined she would use him in that way. Was she already pregnant when he’d lain with her last night? Or was Lord Eiloch speaking the truth, that she’d lain with him to conceive a son?

“I sought sanctuary with the MacKinlochs,” Celeste said quietly. “Because your wife tried to murder any child I might have conceived.”

A darkness clouded his judgment, and Dougal hardly heard the rest of the conversation. All he could think of was the way she’d behaved these past few days. She had kissed him first and had tempted him each moment they were alone. Even last night, she’d asked him to tend her in the bath, knowing it would lead to a night of lovemaking.

A night where she intended to steal a child from him.

She used you. She never wanted you at all, any more than any woman ever has. Even your own mother didn’t want you.

The words taunted him, digging into his conscience. As an adolescent, he’d poured his rage and grief into fighting, lashing out at anyone and everyone. But it had done nothing to heal the emptiness there. After his brothers were freed, it had calmed his unrest, but still he preferred solitude.

He’d been a fool to think that Celeste might love him. And he deserved the humiliating shame she’d evoked.

His anger was so strong, he began to walk away. If he stayed another moment, he couldn't trust himself not to lash out with with words he'd regret later. But right now he didn’t care what Celeste did or where she went.

The door struck hard behind him, but he continued his path forward. She could go or stay; it made no difference anymore.

Dougal made it as far as the stable, where he took Ivory out of the stall, preparing her to ride. But hurried footsteps approached, and he was well aware that Celeste wasn’t about to let him leave without confronting him.

“Lionel was wrong about what he said.” She stood in front of the doorway to block him from leaving.

He stepped back from the horse, moving closer. “I don’t believe you. At every moment we were alone, you offered yourself. I should have known better.”

She paled and lowered her gaze. “I let go of that idea within a day. It was a desperate thought, one I couldn’t bring myself to do.”

The lies were an acid, burning at his mood. She stood there like a martyr, willing to sacrifice herself to save his family. He closed in, bringing her back against the wooden stall. “And last night, you decided to lower yourself after all. To me, a man you would never consider marrying.”

“You’re wrong,” she said, her hands clenched at her sides. “I loved you. I still do.”

“You’ve gotten good at lying.” He led Ivory forward, stopping in front of her. “Is that why you invited me in your bed? To steal a child and pass him off as your dead husband’s?”

She shook her head slowly. But he couldn’t believe a treacherous word she said. He pushed his way past her, taking Ivory outside.

“Dougal, don’t go,” she pleaded.

“Why not? Because you want me to continue warming your bed until you find a man worth marrying?”

She gripped her waist as if he’d struck her. A tear spilled over, but she didn’t stop him when he took the horse. Nor did she say a single word when he left her standing there.

He never wanted to lay eyes upon her again.

Three days later

She should have known Dougal would despise her after what she’d done. And though the night she’d spent in his arms had been her choice, he wouldn’t believe it after Lord Eiloch’s words. Worst of all was the bleak emptiness stretching before her. She’d never expected to feel so alone, as if she was walking away from hope.

Celeste saw no choice but to return with Lord Eiloch. He would only fight against Dougal’s family if she dared refuse.

No longer did she care about her widow’s portion of Edmon’s estates. She was weary of the scheming and living her life in fear.

“I will return with you of my own will,” she told Lionel. “Leave the MacKinlochs in peace, and I’ll surrender my husband’s lands to you. All I ask is that you allow me to take my sister away with horses and a few of our belongings.”

“What of any child you might bear?” he asked, his voice threaded with wariness. “That was your intent when you left, was it not?”

She met his gaze evenly. “If I were to have a child, it would not be your brother’s,” she admitted. “There is nothing to stop you from claiming Eiloch as yours. I will swear to that.”

His posture relaxed visibly, and she was startled when she sensed an apology in his tone. “It was never my intent to force you out of your home.”

“I am not wanted there,” she said. “Rowena would make our lives a misery.”

He looked away for a moment, as if he’d known it. “She is a difficult woman to understand. She holds great ambitions, and she would lay down her life for one of our children.”

She would lay down my life, too , thought Celeste, but she didn’t say it.

“Where will you go when you bring Melisandre with you?” Lionel asked, keeping his horse beside hers. “Back to Glen Arrin?”

“Perhaps.” She believed Nairna and Laren might grant her sanctuary. And although she had wounded Dougal’s pride, she wanted a second chance.

The thought of walking away, of never seeing him again, upset her in a way she’d never expected. He’d left her behind and likely would never forgive her for what she’d done. She ought to simply let him go.

But she didn’t want to. Not like this, with him loathing the sight of her. She’d made mistakes and needed to atone for them. And more than that, if there was a child after their night together, he deserved to know about it. Pretending it hadn’t happened was a coward’s path.

He wouldn't want to see her. It was entirely possible that he'd refuse to speak with her again. Unless...

A sudden thought struck her with a jolt of hope. It was entirely too soon to tell whether a child had resulted from their stolen night together. And perhaps she could stay with Dougal, for a time, until they knew for certain. At least, long enough to gain his forgiveness and to show him that she truly did love him.

Her imagination fired up with determination. This time, she would fight for the man she wanted.

It was a fortnight before she returned to Glen Arrin with her sister. Celeste rode her husband’s Arabian stallion, Titan, while Melisandre took a tamer gelding. Titan was black with a white star on his forehead and white markings above his hooves. He was slightly larger than Dougal’s mare and was more difficult to manage. All through the journey, the animal was stubborn, trying to take her in whatever direction he wanted.

“Dougal is welcome to you,” she informed the stallion. In answer to her remark, the horse veered left and began to graze.

Melisandre smirked. “He has a mind of his own, doesn’t he?”

Celeste dismounted and seized Titan’s reins, guiding him away from the grass and forcing him back onto the path. “Not for long. Once Dougal gets him, he’ll make him behave.”

Though she spoke as if it were nothing, inwardly she was nervous. The last time she’d seen Dougal, he’d been furious with her. He might not believe anything she said.

“And he...wants you back, even after all that’s happened?” Her sister was well aware of her feelings toward Dougal. There were days when Melisandre seemed much wiser than a girl of three and ten.

“We made our peace,” was all she could say. But with each mile they drew closer, her pulse quickened with fear.

Melisandre looked doubtful. “What if the MacKinlochs refuse to let us stay? Where will we go?”

“They won’t turn us away,” she assured her. “But even if they did, we could always appeal to the Baron of Locharr.”

Celeste refused to consider failure. Dougal would be angry, but she would not let him go a second time. The true question was whether he would set aside his pride and forgive her.

They continued riding until they reached the gates. Once they arrived, Lord Eiloch’s men departed, leaving them to stand there alone.

To the guards, Celeste said, “I’ve brought a gift for Dougal MacKinloch.” They recognized her from the earlier visit and allowed her to enter. But once she and Melisandre were past the gates, she sensed a chill in the atmosphere. There were stares in her direction but no smiles.

“They don’t seem happy to see us,” Melisandre whispered.

Celeste dismounted and led the stallion forward. There were people tending sheep and others milling about. Though she greeted a few of them, none answered her.

At the bottom of the stairs leading into the castle stood Nairna. The woman’s face was grave, her green eyes wary. Celeste suspected Dougal had told his family the very worst about her.

“I came to uphold my part of the agreement,” she said to Nairna, holding out the horse. “I promised Dougal this stallion.”

“He does not wish to see you,” the woman answered.

She knew. Somehow Nairna had guessed what had happened between them. But Celeste hadn’t journeyed this far to give up.

“Is he here?” she asked gently. “There is something he needs to know. I must speak with him.”

“He is, but I will honor his wishes. You’ve brought the horse, and you can go back to Eiloch.” Nairna’s words were like frost, and her warning was clear: Hurt a MacKinloch man, and there is no place for you here.

But they could not return to Eiloch. She had given up everything to come here, and there was no turning back. Celeste closed her hand over Melisandre’s and regarded Nairna. “I don’t know what he told you, but if I could just see him . . . “

“He knows you are here. If he wants to see you, he will.” Nairna took the reins of the horse. “I’ll bring the stallion to him.”

She made no offer of hospitality or a place to rest. Celeste stood frozen while the woman took the horse away.

Melisandre dismounted from her own animal, wariness written all over her face. “I thought we would be living here.”

“I suppose I was wrong.” Celeste could find no words to ease her sister’s fear, for her own worries were drowning her. They had a little food, but not much. It would be dark within hours, and they needed a place to sleep. It was half a day’s journey to Locharr, too far to reach the fortress by tonight.

“I don’t know what you said or did,” her younger sister remarked, “but let me try.” Melisandre walked forward with her own horse, adding, “I’ll bring my horse to the stable and find out what I can. If you think it’s safe?”

Celeste nodded. “No one will harm you. And in the meantime, I’ll see if I can find Dougal.” They split off, and she walked back toward his home. She could only pray that he was there and would agree to talk to her.

She made it halfway before she saw Dougal walking forward. His hair was slightly longer, his face unshaven and rough. He wore trews and a saffron shirt, and two dirks were strapped to him—one within a leather belt and another at his shoulder. His dark brown eyes stared past her, as if she wasn’t even there. Celeste held her ground, refusing to back down.

“I brought you the stallion.”

Dougal said nothing but continued walking forward. His fury was palpable, and she hurried forward to catch up to him.

“Well, at the very least you should thank me. He’s an expensive horse.”

Her words had the intended effect. He spun, his eyes blazing. “Thank you? For demanding that I be your escort and trying to steal a child from me, to pass off as your husband’s?”

He moved in so fast, she lost her breath when he seized her shoulders. “I let no one use me, Lady Celeste. And if you think I want anything at all from you, you’re wrong.”

“I left Eiloch and gave up everything to my husband’s brother,” she said quietly. “To come to you.”

“There is no place for you here,” he countered. “Not after what you did.”

Her own temper erupted at that. “And what did I do that was so wrong? I went to seek help for my sister in any way that I could. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t lay down your life for one of your brothers.”

“It’s not the same.”

“No, because you aren’t a woman. I came to you for help, and I offered you the payment you wanted. I kept my word.”

“You used me.”

She drew herself up to her full height, glaring at him. “I didn’t hear you saying no to me that night. You enjoyed every moment of it, and that’s what angers you most. Because you still want me, even after all that.”

She rested her hand upon his throat and could feel his rapid pulse beneath her fingers. “It was my choice to lie with you that night. And I never stole anything from you. I returned and kept my promise, just as I said I would.”

“I don’t want you, Celeste. I’ll accept the horse, but that’s all I want from you. You’re nothing to me.”

He walked away, leaving her to stand there alone. Tears welled up inside her, and she turned away to let them fall. Better to release them now, where no one would see, than to be weak before her sister. Melisandre needed her to be strong. They had to gain shelter and somehow survive this.

But she simply didn’t know how to break down the stony pride of a man who hated her.

“Do you want me to send her away?” Laren asked while Dougal examined the stallion Celeste had brought. “She traveled a long way to see you.” His brother’s wife kept her voice even, but he sensed her frustration. She was dying to ask him what had happened, but he would say nothing.

Just remembering that night made him feel like a fool. Celeste had invited him into her bath, using her body and words to seduce him. He’d been such a fool, only too eager to touch her, to sheathe himself in her body and watch her crumble.

Had she ever wanted him? Or had she merely schemed to conceive a child to protect herself from her husband’s brother? He didn’t know.

After he’d left her, she’d gone back to Eiloch without a second thought. She’d returned with her enemy, leaving him to wonder if she was even alive.

And now that he’d seen her again, he craved her even more. Seeing her here, with her golden-brown hair pinned beneath a veil, her blue gown accentuating a slender waist, made him want to drag her back home again.

He loathed himself for the weakness.

“Dougal?” Laren questioned again. “She brought her sister and wants to stay.” The woman moved forward to stand at his side. “But Nairna thinks she should go back.”

She was leaving the decision up to him, but he knew what her wishes would be. “You don’t want to send them away.”

Laren shook her head. “I spoke with Melisandre for a short while. She said that Celeste gave up all rights to her land, to return to you.”

He said nothing, refusing to believe any of it.

His brother’s wife touched his arm, asking gently, “Why do you fight your feelings for her? I can see in your face how much it hurt when she left.”

“I knew she would leave me.” Every woman he’d ever known had left; why would Celeste be any different?

“She came back,” Laren said. “And I think you should give her another chance. At least hear what she has to say.”

“She gave me nothing but lies, Laren. Why would I want to hear more?”

The young woman let out a sigh. “Stubbornness runs in MacKinloch blood.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Her sister can sleep with my girls this night.”

“And what of Lady Eiloch?” he demanded, unable to stop himself from asking.

“Where do you want me to send her?” Without waiting for a reply, Laren walked away.

Dougal grimaced, for he knew he would find Celeste in his dwelling. The question was whether or not he’d have the willpower to turn her away. Or whether he should.