Authors: Connie Mason
Highland Warrior (9 page)
“Aye,” Gillian murmured, though it hurt her to admit it. “He didna harm me.”
“All is well, aye?”
“Nay, Da, all isna well. I hate the man, and so should you.”
Tearlach sighed heavily. “Ah, lass, you grieve me sorely. Of all my bairns, you are the only one who refuses to accept that the feud is done, finished. Take my advice: Make your peace with your husband, lass. Despite our years of feuding, I believe MacKenna to be a good man.”
“Are you satisfied, MacKay?” Ross asked as he walked into the chamber. “I told you Gillian was fine. She will remain fine as long as you doona break the peace.”
Tearlach held out his hand. “Shall we shake on peace between our clans, son-in-law?”
Ross extended his hand. “Aye, to peace, MacKay.”
“I’ll be leaving now. Bring Gillian to visit before snow flies.”
He turned to his daughter. “Remember what I told you, lass. You are a married woman now; trust your husband and all will be well.”
Gillian held her tongue until Tearlach left. Then she glared up at Ross and said, “Mayhap Da trusts you, but I doona.”
“Cease your prattling, woman,” Ross warned. “After last night, I am sure we will deal well with each other. Your bath will arrive soon. The water is heating. I’ve decided you should join me in the hall after your bath so we can break our fast together. The sooner my clansmen accept you as lady of Ravenscraig, the better for all of us.”
A scratch at the door announced the arrival of the tub and bathwater. Ross sat on the bench as the round brass tub was filled and proclaimed ready by the maid-servant he had ordered to attend Gillian.
“I am Alice, lady. Laird Ross has asked me to serve you. Your bath is ready. Shall I pin up your hair?”
Gillian sat up. “Aye, thank you,” she replied as the attractive dark-haired maid fussed with her tangled hair.
Ross smiled inwardly as Gillian sent him a blistering look. “Do you intend to remain while I bathe?”
“Aye, I want to use the bathwater after you are through, so doona linger too long.”
“Is Alice your ...”
Ross knew precisely what Gillian was going to say and stopped her. “Alice is my kinswoman. She lives at Ravenscraig with her mother, Hanna, our cook.”
“Oh,” Gillian said in a small voice.
Using the sheet as a cover, Gillian slipped from bed and approached the tub. She dropped the sheet and lowered herself into the tub so fast, Ross saw naught but a small patch of creamy skin before she sank into the water.
Alice laid out Gillian’s clothes as Ross sprawled nearby in a chair, watching Gillian bathe. Gillian glanced at him. Their gazes locked, held, but she quickly looked away when she saw no softness in his hard blue eyes. Fine, ’twas exactly how she wanted it. It was easier to hate a man who held her in little regard.
Gillian finished her bath quickly and called to Alice to fetch a drying cloth.
“I’ll get it,” Ross said. “You may go, Alice. I wish to bathe before the water gets cold.”
Alice scooted from the chamber as Ross fetched the large square of linen and held it out for Gillian to step into. An angry flush suffused Gillian’s face when Ross held the cloth low enough to allow him to look his fill of her naked body. Disgruntled, Gillian stepped out of the tub, waiting impatiently for Ross to wrap her in the cloth.
When no cloth was forthcoming, Gillian glanced over her shoulder. Ross’s jaw was clenched; his eyes had darkened to the color of turbulent storm clouds.
“I’m waiting,” Gillian prodded. “The drying cloth, please.”
Ross’s arms came around her, and with them the cloth. But instead of releasing her, he turned her to face him. His body was hard, so very hard. All over. Gillian felt his shaft poking against her stomach and wrested herself free.
“I thought you wanted to bathe,” she said, carefully backing away.
“Aye, I do.”
“Then you had best hurry. I’m so hungry my stomach is touching my backbone.”
“I’m hungry, too, but not for food.”
His look was hot enough to melt her, if she were of a mind to let him beguile her. “I’m not going to let you do that to me again,” she said, placing herself on the opposite side of the chamber. “My duty to this marriage has been fulfilled, Ross MacKenna. ’Tis all you’re going to get from me.”
Ross gave a bark of laughter, though he didn’t appear amused.
“Doona make fun of me, MacKenna.”
“Ah, Gillian, lass, I can see the taming of you isna going to be as easy as I thought. I fear you’re going to be disappointed, for we
will
do
that
again. And ’tis called making love.”
will
do
that
again. And ’tis called making love.”
“Why? There was no love involved.”
Ross sighed heavily as he removed his tartan and stepped into the tub. “Will you scrub my back?”
“Nay. Shall I fetch Seana? I’m sure she will be thrilled to scrub your back.”
“You try my patience, lass. Get dressed. We’re expected in the hall.”
Gillian waited until Ross turned his attention to his bath before scrambling into the clothing Alice had laid out for her: a fine linen shift, a dark green gown, and thick woolen stockings. As an afterthought, she fetched her MacKay plaid from the wardrobe and flung it over her shoulders. Wearing the MacKay plaid was Gillian’s way of showing the MacKenna that she wasn’t intimidated by him. Then she turned her back on Ross while he bathed and got dressed.
“I see you’re ready,” he said as he drew on a white shirt and pair of close-fitting trews fashioned out of the MacKenna plaid and fastened a wide belt around his waist.
Gillian headed for the door. Ross was there before her. “If you think wearing the MacKay plaid will anger me, you’re wrong, lass. Our clans are allies now, though if you wore the MacKenna plaid, it would endear you to my kinsmen.”
“I doona want to do anything to endear myself to you or your kinsmen. Remember that, MacKenna.”
Grasping her arm, he pulled her against him. “Remember this, Gillian. Befriending my kinsmen will save lives, not just MacKenna lives but MacKay lives. Are you so bitter that you care naught for your father and brothers?”
Then he lowered his head and kissed her. The kiss was not gentle; nor was it meant to be, Gillian thought. Nevertheless, she was more aroused by it than she wanted to be.
Chapter Five
The moment Gillian and Ross entered the hall, the buzz of conversation came to an abrupt halt. Gillian flushed with embarrassment when she realized everyone was staring at them as Ross seated her at the high table. Raising her chin, she stared back, refusing to be intimidated by Ross MacKenna’s kinsmen.
As if she didn’t already feel uncomfortable, Seana entered the hall moments behind them. The attention of Ross’s kinsmen sharpened as his leman sauntered up to the high table and chose a seat next to Ross. To Gillian’s relief, Gordo arrived next and sat on her left. At Ross’s signal, the servants began serving bowls of oats accompanied by bannocks and pitchers of ale.
Gillian nibbled at the bannock; oats didn’t appeal to her and never had. She preferred to break her fast with eggs and a rasher of bacon.
Suddenly Seana leaned forward and said loudly enough to be heard by all and sundry, “I expected to see bruises and scratches this morning, but it appears you both survived your wedding night. I confess I am surprised you didna kill each other.”
Gordo chuckled. “The absence of bruises is a good sign, lass. Our clan is better for the joining.”
“Time will tell, Gordo,” Seana replied. “I personally doona believe the truce will hold.”
“Enough!” Ross growled. “Why are you still here, Seana? Why did you nae return home with the escort I offered to provide?”
Seana stared adoringly up at Ross. “I thought it would be fun to stay and see what comes of your marriage.” She slanted Gillian a sly look. “Your bride doesna look pleased with you, Ross.” She leaned close. “Nor you with her. When you have need of a real woman, I will be waiting.”
Gillian popped a piece of bannock into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully, having heard Seana’s provocative words. “Stay if it pleases you, Seana. It matters not to me.” She turned to her husband, her expression bland. “What say you, MacKenna? Will you have need of Seana anytime soon?”
Ross slammed down his spoon. “Stop making trouble, Seana. My marriage is none of your concern. You should have left Ravenscraig.”
“Niall asked me to stay, and I decided to accommodate him,” she purred. “You aren’t the only attractive man at Ravenscraig.”
Ross scowled at his former leman; Gillian wondered if he was jealous of Niall.
“Do what you will, Seana,” Ross said sourly. “Be forewarned, however, that at the first sign of trouble, I will send you home.”
“You shouldna let the lass stay, lad,” Gordo muttered. “Mark my words: Keeping a leman—even a former leman—and a wife under the same roof will cause trouble.”
“Let Niall enjoy the lass, Gordo. I shall warn him to keep her away from Gillian.”
Gillian had had about all she could take of this talking around her. “Seana doesna bother me, MacKenna. If you like,” she said for Ross’s ears only, “you may take her to your bed. I have no objections. ’Tis not as if I will be sharing your bed in the future.”
“Find another place to eat,” Ross told Seana, ignoring Gillian’s pronouncement. “The high table is out of bounds to you. Gordo,” he said, turning to his uncle. “Round up some men. ’Tis time we went into the hills to drive cattle down to their winter pasture.”
Given no other choice, Seana sputtered indignantly but rose nonetheless and stomped off to join Niall. Gordo left at the same time.
“You didna have to send Seana away on my account, MacKenna,” Gillian said. “One night in your bed was enough for me. Seana may take my place with my blessing.”
Ross glared at her. “Doubtless your father would renew the feud if he learned I was keeping a leman. I told you before, Gillian, but I will tell you again so you willna mistake my meaning: You are my wife, and I expect to come to your bed whenever I choose.”
“Where will you be when you do not come to me?” Gillian challenged, though she had no idea why she cared. If Ross wasn’t in bed with her, then he wouldn’t be demanding his marital rights. Naught hurt her pride more than the knowledge that MacKenna could control her body so easily.
“Where I will be is none of your concern,” Ross replied. “But know this—it willna be in Seana’s bed.”
“Then whose—”
“I’ll be gone most of the day,” Ross said, cutting off her sentence as he beckoned to a man sitting nearby. The man rose and advanced toward the high table. “Donald will show you around Ravenscraig and introduce you to the cook and servants. You might as well become acquainted with your duties as my wife.”
“Who is Donald?”
“A kinsman. He’s been running Ravenscraig since my mother’s death last year, but I’m sure he’ll welcome the chance to turn some of his duties over to you.”
Gillian watched Donald approach. Somewhat older than Ross, he had the body of a seasoned warrior.
“Donald,” Ross greeted him, “my wife would like a tour of the tower. Will you do the honors?”
“Shouldna that be your duty, lad?” Donald asked.
“My duty is driving the livestock down from the hills to their winter pasture.”
So saying, he strode off without so much as a good-bye. Donald scowled at his departing back before turning his scowl on Gillian. “Are you ready to see your new home, lass?”
“A moment, please,” Gillian replied. “There is something I wish to do first. Wait here for me.”
Without further explanation, Gillian strode off and mounted the stairs to the gallery, where the stained sheet still flew from the railing. She wadded the offending linen into a ball, returned forthwith to the hall, and flung it into the blazing hearth. She watched it catch fire and burn before she rejoined Donald.
“Now I am ready,” she said. “But I have no intention of taking over your duties. Apparently you have been doing a good job overseeing the everyday running of Ravenscraig.”
“I’ve done what I had to do, but I willna be sorry to transfer some of the responsibility to your shoulders.”
His coolness toward her did not escape Gillian. “You doona like me, do you?”
“I like you as well as you like me. You are the laird’s wife. I will treat you with respect even though you are a MacKay. Come along, lass; we will start with the tower and work down, although I doubt you will wish to see the dungeons.”
“Ravenscraig has dungeons?”
“Oh, aye, but they havena been used since the early days. Ross keeps the only key to the lower levels.”
Donald strode off. Gillian had to hurry to catch up with him. She spent the next two hours exploring her new home. The tower room was unoccupied, but some of the chambers on the floors below were occupied by Ross’s uncle, various kinsmen, and servants who worked and lived in the keep.
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