FLAME ACROSS THE HIGHLANDS (24 page)

"You don't
believe that....."

"I do!" She lied to spite him.
"A lassie wants a mon who is hers alone, not a mon who fancies every lassie he sees. I thought I was something special to ye, Ian. That's why I came. But in truth I was just another lassie."

"Nae, you weren't.  You were and are special, Brianna."  He could see by her eyes that she didn't believe it.  "Don't believe a word Caitlin says.  She's a dried up, disappointed maiden who
can not find a husband. She takes out her own disappointment by causing trouble wherever she goes."

"And have there not b
een many lassies in yer life?"

"Aye. But that was before I met you.  You have spoiled me for any ot
her woman, Brianna MacQuairie. You are the only one I want." She wanted to believe him but there was a little shred of doubt that he read in her eyes. "I will prove it to you, Brie.” A smile teased the corner of his mouth. “When the priest says his vows it will be me at your side and not Robbie Campbell."  So vowing he turned on his heel and strode away, leaving a shaken but smiling Brianna behind.
             

Chapter Twenty
–Eight

The sound of laughter echoed through the courtyard and Glenna joined in the merriment.  It was washing day, a time she always thoroughly enjoyed.  Tucking her long skirts up above her kn
ees, she stepped into the huge low tub of water to join Jeanne. Her sister Orianna, Annie and two other young women were  in other tubs adjoining, all washing the laundry by trampling on it with their bare feet.  Usually, the laundry was done inside in the bathhouse, but since it was such a lovely sunny day they had dragged the tubs outside.

"Where is Brianna?"  Jeanne looked at Glenna askance, her lips cu
rling up in a sarcastic smile. "Is she ill again?"

Glenna shook her head, averting the other young woman's eyes, realizing she could ne'er
make that excuse again. "Nae. She's out riding.  Ye ken? She hates washing day. Considers it drudgery."

Jeanne snorted in ire.
"Och!  I dunna ken why she doesna hae to do her part. She isna a Campbell just yet. It is her duty to join us."

"Yer jealousy is
showing, if ye be asking me," Glenna retorted peevishly, quickly coming to her sister's defense. "She has a great deal to be doing before she leaves for Argyll  with my father.   I would think ye'd hae some empathy for her, no' be criticizing her."

"I do.
It's just that for the last several days now she's seemingly as delicate as a rose, suffering from one malady or another.  It seems strange, that's all I'm sayin'.  And now ye tell us she's out for a morning ride. I warrant none of us hae seen her for longer than a minute, if for that long."  Kicking at a submerged sodden shirt, Jeanne vented her frustrations. "Ha! E'en her own father is getting suspicious. I heard him saying just this morning that he intends to lock her in her room if need be, just to hae the chance to speak wi' her."

"Aye?"  Glenna tried to maintain he
r calm.  Dear God, she was very close to muddling everything. Coward that she was she'd been so nervous about pretending to be Brianna that she'd come very close to giving the deception away.  If she did, and if Brianna was punished when she returned, she would never forgive herself. And perhaps she’d be punished as well for the deception. The thought made her so frightened that she slipped and nearly lost her balance. Only Jeanne’s strong arm kept her from a bath in the warm water.

“Ye had best watch yer step, hinny1” the bold woman advised.

“I..I will.” She concentrated on where she placed her feet, trampling the dirty garments furiously in her zest to get them clean.

Though Glenna joined in to sing a rousing song, though she moved her feet and danced about just as playfully as the others
, her heart was not in it now. She had to think what to do. If only Brianna were here.  From the time they were just little girls Glenna had relied on her bolder twin for advice. Now she had to come up with a solution on her own. How was she going to placate their father before he carried out his threat?

Her tranquil mood broken, Glenna was silent, giving free reign to the thoughts stampeding about in her brain.  First and foremost she would somehow have to conqueror the
fear she held for her father. Her trembling hands and stuttering were certain to give her away. Could she mimic Brianna's boldness?  Could she pretend to be Brianna so fiercely that she could fool Lachlan?  She had to try.

The
lye soap made with wood ash  stung Glenn's feet, thus she was the first from the tub.  As she wrung out the garments and laid them to dry on the grass, she envisioned Brianna in her mind, the haughty way she always tilted her chin, her impish smile, the slight sway to her hips.  Brianna had a way of looking directly in another's eyes when talking to them while Glenna usually looked in the direction of her toes.  Brianna's voice was at a lower timbre while Glenna's seemed at a higher pitch.  Brianna always met a problem head-on while Glenna did her utmost to avoid conflict.

All her life Glenna had admired her twin and yet if she were honest she would have to admit that she re
sented her just a wee mite too. It was like being someone else's shadow. No one had ever liked her as much as they did Brianna, with the exception of Alastair.  Perhaps that was one reason why she loved him so.  She always came first with her dear sweet bard.  Brianna was too bold a lass, he had said, but she was just right. 

That was not to say that she was mistreated, far from that.  She knew her father loved her, it was ju
st that he loved Brianna more. Brianna was so spirited, enjoyed the same activities their father did--hunting, riding, fishing--that it was no wonder they spent so much time in each other's company.  Glenna, on the other hand liked woman's things--sewing, weaving, cooking--things a man had no use for.  Thus, she never knew what to say to her father, and this made her overly shy in his presence. Tongue-tied.  What could she talk with him about?  She knew naught of hunting or weaponry, had not the jovial lilt to her words that Brianna did.  In truth all Glenna had thought about the past month was Alastair and she couldn't go on and on about him. 

But wait!  Brianna had laughingly told their father that she intended to
pursue the matter of Alastair. She  had fully intended to banter with him when she returned.  Did Glenna dare do the same?  Surely it was the thing that truly mattered to her. The one desire of her heart.  But could she put her feelings into words? Could she get up enough courage?

“Glenna! Glenna, what do ye think on the matter?”

“What?” Glenna looked up to see Jeanne looking at her.

“About that old woman who lives in the cottage on the hill.” Her voice lowered and she crossed herself. “They say she’s a witch!”

“A witch? Nae. She’s just a lonely old woman who would do nobody harm.” Glenna did not believe it, for the times she’d come across Riannon she’d been offered only kindness. “Fie on ye, Jeanne, ye should be ashamed of yerself for such gossip.”

“Ha! Little ye know. She’s been seen crossing Loch Tuath in an eggshell, a sure sign of a witch. And Jamie himself says he saw her transform herself into a hare.”

“Foolishness. She is no’ a bad woman.”

“Perhaps she’s a good witch,” Jeanne relented, “But she’s a witch just the same. Jamie says she gave him a potion to chase away his shyness.” Jeanne grinned knowingly. “And believe me it worked.”

"A potion?" Glenna pricked up her ears.  Of course, therein lay the answer.  She'd visit the woman and ask for her help. A potion to make her as brave as Brianna so that she would have the courage to confront her father on the matter of Alastair.  Aye.  It was the only way. Making her excuses to the others, she hurriedly left the courtyard.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Brianna lay in her soft feather bed watching the leaping fire tickle the stones in the hearth, mulling a dozen things over and over in her mind. True to his word, Ian had shown her a side to his nature she had not glimpsed before, his romantic side. Every look, every smile showed her that he cared deeply. It was a rapturous secret between them that no other shared, except dear Aulay, who often acted as their go-between for secret meetings and messages.

All her life Brianna had loved flowers. It was something she had confided to Aulay when talking about her
Island of Ulva. Now her chamber was filled with them. Blossoms of all kinds—white, red, and lavender—a gift from Ian as a token of his love. Heather. Scarlet pimpernel. Even sea lavender which was so rare in Scotland.

Nor had Ian given even a glance to any other woman. That thought brought forth a warm feeling. Closing her eyes, she snuggled against the pillow. For the first time in several days she drifted off in a deep,
pleasant sleep, unaware that the door was slowly opening or that Ian stood at this moment gazing down at her.

She lay on her side, her head resting on one
out flung arm, her flaming hair tumbling across her face and spilling like a living fire onto the pillow. Huddled up as she was, she looked almost childlike to him, and he was mesmerized by how truly lovely she was. The long sweep of her lashes against the curve of her cheek made her look vulnerable, and he vowed to protect her. His eyes moved tenderly over her form, moving from her toes to the top of her head, pausing for a moment as he studied the slightly tilted nose, the generous mouth that felt so soft against his own. The sight of her laying there, the rise and fall of her breathing stirring against the thin quilt, acted like an aphrodisiac. He remembered the way her breasts felt as they stroked his chest.

“Ah lass, how I do love you,” he whispered, “but alas, ‘tis hopeless that we will ever be together.”
Truly, Duncan had given him every reason to suspect that he would remain pigheaded and stubborn to the end. Should he tell her? Should he dash all her hopes? Breathing a heavy sign, he bent down and touched the fiery hair where it grew near her temple n a gesture of loving.

Brianna awoke to the feel of a
warm hand against her face, brushing back her hair. “Who?” she jerked upright, drawing the covers tightly over her breasts, all too aware of the thinness of her night shift. “Ohhh.”

It was Ian who knelt beside her bed, holding a finger up to his lips to warn her to keep silent. Brianna felt again that treacherous warmth of attraction she’d felt for him from the first time she had laid eyes on him.

“Ian?” She tried to adjust her vision to see him clearly in the fading firelight. “What are ye doing here?”

He looked like a man who was in need of sleep. There were hard lines around his mouth, furrows on his brow, the flesh beneath his eyes was shadowed with blue. Truly, he looked more like a prisoner than she. He had the look of a tortured man. “I just came to see you. I wanted to see you.”

“Ye seem to be unhappy.”

“No.” How could he ever hope to make her understand? She was so very special to him, and yet by the laws of her clan and his, he must stand by and watch her marry someone else. It was tearing him in two, but he
couldn’t tell her that.

Brianna tried to pierce the unfathomable expression in his blue eyes. “The flowers, they are beautiful. Thank you.”

“I wanted to give you something that was as bonnie as you.” He lowered his hand and captured her slender shoulder. “I should not have come but I…I wanted to see you.”

“Did you now.”

“Fionnghuala says you purposely spoiled the
colcannon
, that you let it boil too long. She was in a dither.”

“No purposely, but it does serve her right for giving me all the unpleasant tasks. I never have been good at cooking or sewing.”

Humor softened his features as he smiled down at her, then just as quickly he resumed his usual serious countenance. “You’ve created quite a stir, lassie, in more ways than one.”

“Aye, all yer fine
Campbells are angry that I willna eat out of their hands like a docile pony.” She felt relaxed and contented being with him. There was an easy relationship between them as if those stormy earlier days had never existed.

“
Duncan is incensed with you, with me, with the whole situation.”

“Is he now?” Drawing her knees up to her chin, she pursed her lips. “Well, he isna the one who should be piqued, I’d be thinkin’.” The corners of her mouth tugged into a smile.

Nodding his head, he caressed her with his eyes. How was he going to tell her? “Brianna, the last few days have been the happiest of my life. You have made me realize a great many things.”

“Such as?” Her voice was soft, stroking him like a delicate hand, teasing him. Unwillingly, he felt desire stir and despite his resolve he weakened. He just could not escape her web of enchantment, could not take his eyes off her. She was quite a lassie. A bundle of beauty and bravery. “Why did ye come here tonight, Ian?”

Her gaze roved over his features—the thick, black Campbell hair, the blue eyes with their thick lashes. The sparkling firelight shadowed his hard, strong jaw line and the hollows beneath his high cheekbones. It was his perfectly chiseled mouth, however, that drew her eye again and again as she found herself remembering the taste of his kiss.

“I came to tell you…” He stared grimly at the fire as if to take his mind off her. He
had come to say goodbye and to help her plan her escape, but suddenly he didn’t want to say the words.

“It doesna matter. All I know is that I’m happy that ye are here.” On impulse she reached out and took his hand, smiling.
She was completely unaware of how seductive such a gesture could be, for the contact of their hands was overpowering. Compulsively, his fingers closed around hers as he leaned down. He knew he had to kiss her, if for the last time.

Brianna opened her lips to him and was surprised at the strangely tender and wistful kiss he granted. Not at all like the impetuous demands he had made of her those times before. This kiss was from the heart. Gentle. So much so that she was deeply touched. Ian’s arms closed around her, crushing her tight against the iron hardness of his body. Her blood screamed with wild delight as his mouth fused with her own. When he broke away he was smiling.

“Your reward, lass, for being so braw.” He stroked her hair soothingly.

“My
reward? I would hae deemed it yers, Ian Campbell.” She laughed softly.

Tighter and tighter the band of his arms closed around her. The roaring of her own blood was deafening in her ears. She gave no resistance to his embrace. Indeed, knowing that Robbie Campbell did not want her was a balm to her conscience.
Somehow, loving Ian did not seem a betrayal. This was what she wanted, not some wee bairn’s arms.

Ian kissed her again. There was no ignoring the flicker of arousal which spread from their joined mouths to the core of her body. Thoughts of future heartache pressed against her
soul, but she pushed them far from her mind. She reached for him, as if the only safety could be in his arms. As their eyes suddenly met, they both knew what was to come.

Unfastening his shirt, slipping her night tunic from her shoulders, he
drew her into his arms and pressed their naked chests together. The fire at the contact made Brianna gasp, finding the sensation of warm skin and prickly hair against her skin the most sensuous of pleasures.

“I will not give you to him,” he breathed. “Not now, when I know that in your heart you are mine!”

How could the hands of a fighting man be so tender, she wondered. She didn’t protest when he removed his shirt and stretched himself the full length of the bed. The desire to run her hands over him made her tremble, yet she remained perfectly still. It seemed only right that the man she loved be the one to initiate her into the mysteries of lovemaking. The thought tugged at her mind that if he took her, if he planted his seed, Duncan would have to change his mind.

“Y do want me, lass?’ She’d been outraged so many times with him because of his desires, had accused him of being a rogue, that he hesitated in his kissing and caressing to study her expression. “Are you satisfied at last that I want no one but you?”

“Aye, I think I always knew, but I was just too foolish and too stubborn.” His hot lips found her breasts and she trembled like a wild thing beneath him. He whispered words of love over and over again, and she sighed as sheer rapture spread through her body.

They rolled over and over on the soft bed, sinking in its warm feathered softness. But kissing didn’t satisfy the blazing hunger that raged through Ian. He’d wanted her for too long. She was too tempting, too warm and responsive in his arms for him to gain complete control of his reason. Pushing her onto her back, he slid his mouth sensuously down her neck, across her
chest, to her breasts, his teeth lightly grazing it.

A hot ache of desire coiled within her at the caress of his lips against the peak of her flesh. No matter what happened she would have this to remember, she told herself, bargaining with her shame.

“Do you want me, lass?” Taking her small hand, he gently pressed it down against the hardening of his manhood. Brianna tensed at such intimacy at first but then relaxed. “Don’t be afraid of me. I would never hurt you.”

His mouth fastened on hers with greedy passion, and with fierce longing she responded, eager to receive his body. If tomorrow her soul was damned for it, then so be it. At the moment she did not care. Her only rational thought was that Ian Campbell was making love to her, just as it was meant to be. Why had she fought him before? This was what she wanted, to feel this heady bliss.

Brianna clung to him, shivering as he pushed her legs apart and touched her where no man ever had. His light stroke was a delicious torment, causing a wetness like dew as she moaned and opened up to him. Slowly, very slowly, he pushed his finger full length into her softness, whispering in her ear that they were meant to fit perfectly together. As he moved his finger her breath caught in her throat and she cried out when he withdrew the source of her pleasure, only to slide into it into her again as he prepared her for their joining.

She strained against him, knowing nothing except that she wanted, she needed…..She felt his bold shaft at the entrance to her moist softness and she took a deep breath, calling out his name as she exhaled.  Succumbing to the desire that now raged within her, Brianna reached out to him. They were so close to mingling their bodies in the final vow of love, and would have, had a voice not cried out Ian’s name.

“Who?”

He drew away. “
Duncan.”

She reached out to stroke his maleness and bring it back to her so that they could continue, but as Ian heard his name again, this time from a closer distance, he pulled away.  They couldn’t risk being discovered together.

She damned Duncan beneath her breath, watching as Ian hastily tugged at his clothes, taking several deep breaths. With a hurried kiss he bid her goodbye, slipping out the door with a regretful sign.

After he was gone, Brianna slid down in the soft bed, touching herself where he had touched her, giving herself up to all her romantic fantasies concerning him as she explored her body and discovered feelings she had never known existed.

As her sensual desires subsided, she thought about the soft glow of love in his eyes, and knew she couldn’t be wrong. He did love her, as much as she wanted him, and that gave her the strength of will to win out against any odds. Nae, against Old Nick himself.

The fire in the hall had burned down to ash. It was chilly. All was quiet for it was well after midnight, that time when witches ruled. Only a torch lit the darkness, casting dancing shadows on Duncan Campbell’s face, making the clan chief look like the devil himself. Nevertheless, Ian faced his uncle squarely, proceeding to enter into the same argument he’d instigated again and again since Brianna MacQuarie had been forcibly ensconced here. After tonight he knew he couldn’t give her up. He had been so close to claiming her.

“You can’t hold her!” Love gave Ian courage. Remembering the fierce sweet
lovemaking he’d shared with Brianna goaded him on. “It borders on insanity. Lachlan MacQuarie is not a man to be taken lightly as you well know. She’s his favorite!”

“So much the better!” The rushes beneath
Duncan’s feet snapped and crackled as he shifted his bulky weight to stand erect.

“He’ll come after you. The peace will be broken! Think,
Duncan think!” He could see by the grim look on his uncle’s face that he was getting nowhere. In frustration, Ian threw his hands in the air.

“I didna abduct her. She came to my hall willingly.”

“By God, she came here in good faith to talk with you, and you react by keeping her here in the castle against her will. I’ll be damned if I know why!” Ian was infused with incredulous anger.

“It is necessary. I will hold her here until the final preparations are made. I dinna want anything to happen to destroy the wedding plans.”
Duncan spoke with a calm finality that chilled Ian to the bone. He had been right when he’d told Aulay that something was wrong with Duncan. His obsession with this marriage endangered the good of the entire clan. What Ian could not understand was what drove Duncan. Not any admiration for the MacQuaries. What then?