Fraser 01 - Highland Legacy, page 12
Bryce approached his brother from behind and slid his hand over his shoulder. “What are you going to do?”
“Do?” Connor asked, his eyes never leaving the spot where Cailin had disappeared behind the bushes.
“About the lass? We covered a lot of ground today and if we keep up this pace, we’ll be at Kildrummy Castle by noon tomorrow. You’ll have to make a decision soon.”
“I have made my decision. Once she is safely sequestered, I will rejoin my fellow patriots in our bid to free Scotland of English tyranny.”
“It’s not that simple, and you know it. Your marriage by declaration is as binding as any vows taken before a priest. Like it or not, you now have a wife to consider.”
“I wed out of necessity, not by choice. There isn’t a court in Scotland that would expect me to honor a declaration made under such duress. Robert has the power to disavow a marriage if he so chooses.”
“Mayhap you had no choice about the marriage declaration, but you did when it came to bedding the lass. What if she carries your babe? Can you just walk away, never to see your bairn or wife again?” Bryce shook his head. “You’re not that kind of man. You may deny your feelings, but I know you, brother. You are in love, and I dinna believe you could desert her.”
“Cailin will be better off without me. I have nothing to offer a wife.” However, the possibility that she might carry his child did weigh heavy on his mind.
“You have yourself to offer. If only you would stop being so stubborn and unlock your heart.”
“I’m a warrior sworn to fight and, if necessary, give my life for the cause. Should I die in battle, I dinna want to leave behind a wife and children to mourn my passing. Not like our—”
“Da?” Bryce finished his sentence. “But you do have a wife, and mayhap a bairn on the way. Are you prepared to walk away and not look back? The decision is difficult, but I have faith you’ll make the right choice.”
“I told you the decision is already made. Now leave me be.” Connor stormed off in search of Cailin.
“You at least owe the lass an explanation,” Bryce called after his brother’s retreating form.
Cailin sat on a large bolder overlooking a stream that meandered through the valley. She’d picked a daisy and plucked the pearl-white petals one by one.
Connor strode up beside her. “We need to talk.” His voice held a serious note.
“About what?” She looked up at him, her eyes wide with questions.
In a feeble attempt to appear nonchalant, Connor reached up and picked a leaf from a low hanging branch. After examining the frond and nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he finally spoke. “We need to talk about last night. It should never have happened, and I’m very sorry,” he blurted out before she had a chance to respond. “If I could turn back the time, I would give you back your innocence and not behave like a randy lad in heat.”
“I offered myself to you freely. You took nothing that I dinna wish to give.” She proudly looked him in the eye. “You made it very clear that you dinna want a wife. You declared us married to protect me, and I will not hold you responsible for what happened between us. I dinna blame you if you wish to have the marriage dissolved.”
Taken aback by her candor, Connor stood transfixed, searching for his voice. “I should have been stronger and fought temptation. You’re a breathtaking young woman and have so much to offer. You have barely seen eight and ten summers and are unfamiliar with the ways of passion between a man and a woman. I took advantage of your inexperience, and I’m sorry.”
She held her hand up in protest. “Please, m’lord, I bid you leave me some shred of dignity.” With downcast eyes, she nibbled on her bottom lip.
She does that to keep it from quivering, as she tries to hide the fact that I have broken her heart. He had not known her for long, but he had memorized every little quirk and adorable gesture. He’d committed to memory her delicate features, winsome smile, and the sultry sound of her voice. Not to mention her soft mewls of pleasure when they made love.
His heart clawed at his chest, begging for release. He wanted to take her in his arms. He longed to hold her close, to tell her that everything would be all right, and that they would be together. He wanted to promise her a future, but it would be a lie.
The war with England was coming to a head. Given what he’d learned on his mission to Perth, the Scottish forces were about to face a most formidable enemy in Aymer de Valence.
He’d vowed on his father’s grave to avenge the death of his family members and had pledged his fealty to Robert the Bruce. His sword, and life, belonged to Scotland, and he could not let Cailin burrow any deeper beneath his skin than she already had. Robert would be granting her a boon if he disavowed the marriage. She deserved a husband who could be there to protect her. Moreover, if God saw fit to bless her with a child, that child would need a father who could be there to show him right from wrong, could teach him to hunt, to fight, and to be a fine, and decent man—or a respectable woman if the babe was a lass.
He closed his eyes for a moment and pictured Cailin growing round with a babe in her belly. The adorable way she’d waddle across a room as her time grew near. He could hear the soft lilt of her voice as she sang a sweet lullaby to the babe tucked safely in her womb and imagined the fierce look of tenacity and determination on her face as she battled the pains of labor to bring the bairn into the world. His mind’s eye conjured up the image of a babe suckling at her perfect, round breasts. He couldn’t picture anything lovelier.
He envisioned a bonnie wee lassie with her mother’s dark auburn curls, soft green eyes, and beautiful smile. A smile that would melt not only her da’s heart, but that of any man who dared to look upon it. She’d be petite and delicate, yet filled with spice and sass. Like her mother, no man would ever tell her what to do.
His mind shifted to a dark-haired lad, his brow furrowed, the muscles straining to pull back on the bowstring—prepared to let loose an arrow for the first time. He’d missed the target by a mile, but it wouldn’t matter. Filled with pride and determination, he’d pluck another arrow from the quiver, and under the watchful eye of his da, he’d practice until he got it right.
But it was a life he’d never know. Another man would sire Cailin’s children. The thought hit him like a kick in the gut. After tomorrow, he’d never know the bliss of holding her in his arms again. While he’d been the one to take her innocence, another man would warm her bed. The ideal man she’d so adamantly described on the night they wed would love her with all his heart and marry her by choice, not out of necessity.
Unfortunately, wishing he could be that man didn’t make it so. His fate had been sealed the day he watched his father and brother be slaughtered by the English. That was the day a fourteen-year-old boy became a man on a mission.
But Cailin had breached the curtain wall around his heart of stone. He’d let down his guard and allowed Cupid’s arrow to pierce the vulnerable organ, causing it to beat with a wild fury he’d never known. Now he had to heal that wound and bury those emotions even deeper than ever before.
“I wish I could be the man you’ve dreamed about. If I had the power to change things, I would.” He held out his hand in her direction. “Come, we can cover a few more miles before making camp for the night.” When she didn’t respond, he squatted down beside her, and ran his hand along her cheek. He felt the dampness of tears on his fingertips. “You must be hungry. Let us rejoin my brothers before Alasdair eats everything Cora packed for the journey.” His attempt to lighten the mood and change the subject failed. She continued to stare at the ground, her eyes brimming with tears.
Cailin shook her head. “If you please, I’d like a few minutes alone with my thoughts.”
He nodded. “Take as long as you need. I’ll have Bryce put something aside for you to eat.” With a heavy heart, he headed back toward the horses.
Her shoulders slumped as she leaned against a moss-covered tree trunk. She blinked away the tears and raised her chin—determined to be brave and to face the future with her head held high. She’d managed to survive her first eighteen years without Connor Fraser, she could survive the rest of her life without him. Or could she?
Despite the dire circumstances under which they met, he caused her heart to soar. However, the same heart that swelled with joy as they made love sank like a stone beneath the icy waters of a loch at the thought of him walking out of her life forever. She knew it was inevitable, but didn’t think it would be so soon. She’d actually begun to hope that by the time they reached Kildrummy Castle, he’d change his mind, might even fight to keep her by his side.
She loved him and knew beyond any doubt that she could never feel this strongly for another man. He awakened the woman in her, unleashing emotions she’d never known existed. He made her feel beautiful, desirable, and for the first time in her life, like someone who truly mattered.
Until now, she’d merely existed. Locked away in her father’s keep, she’d spent her entire life alone, dreaming of the day that someone would love her enough to accept her for who she was. She meant nothing to her father, but Connor risked his life, and that of his brothers, to protect her from Borden. Despite his aversion to marriage, he declared them husband and wife to save her reputation and to protect her identity. He’d made love to her with wild abandon and even though it was only for one night, he showed her what it was like to lie in the arms of man who thought her the most precious thing in the world.
Her heart ached so badly, she was certain it would shatter beyond repair. So much had happened in the space of a few days that it felt as if she’d aged ten summers. Would she ever find some semblance of order in her life? Or was she destined to spend the rest of her days alone, trying to stay one step ahead of the English executioner?
What she longed for was simple. She wanted a home, a man who loved her, and babes. Bairns she could shower with affection and attention. Babes that would grow up knowing their parents loved and cherished them. She wanted all of these things, but more than anything, she wanted Connor. But she refused to beg for his affection.
“Are you ready to leave?”
Lost in thought, she didn’t hear Bryce approach. She dragged the heel of her hand across her tear-stained cheeks in an attempt to hide the fact that she’d been crying and coughed to clear her throat. “Aye, I’m ready."
Bryce grasped her hand, helping her to her feet. “My brother is a hard-headed fool. He would not know a good thing if it jumped up and bit him in the arse. Be patient, lass. I’m certain that by the time we reach Kildrummy castle, he’ll be begging you to stay.”
“Connor is a good man and will do what he thinks is best.” Feeling another bout of tears coming on, she turned and headed toward the horses.
As she approached, Connor moved to her side. “Are you all right?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.
“Aye, I’m fine.” In truth, she was devastated.
“You haven’t eaten,” Bryce pointed out as he reached into the haversack and pulled out a meat-filled pastry.
“He’s right,” Connor whispered in her ear. “You need to eat something and keep up your strength.” He placed his hand against the small of her back and steered her toward Bryce. His touch sent a shockwave of desire up her spine, but she refused to believe it meant anything more than a gesture of kindness.
“Cora is an excellent cook.” Bryce held out the pastry in her direction.
“I’ll say. They’re delicious.” Alasdair picked up the haversack, reached inside, and grabbed another.
“You should know. You’ve already eaten three.” Bryce snatched the sack from his brother’s hand. “Not to mention the fact that you’ve also eaten several oatcakes, half a loaf of bannock, some venison, and cheese. You had best eat something, lass, before it is all gone.”
“A piece of fruit would be fine. I’m really not very hungry.” Bryce handed her an apple. She could feel Connor’s eyes upon her as she took the first succulent bite. When she glanced in his direction, he licked his lower lip—his dark eyes fixed on a trickle of juice running down her chin. Using a small square of linen, she wiped it away.
Connor cursed and turned on his heels. “Once you’ve finished, we’ll leave. We’ve already tarried long enough.”
Chapter 11
Connor cupped his hand over his eyes and peered up at a cloudless azure sky. Judging by the position of the sun, it was near noon, and if they continued at their current pace, they’d reach Kildrummy Castle in time for the evening meal.
Bone weary from travel and lack of sleep, he shifted in the saddle and brought his hand up to stifle a groan. Telling Cailin that their lovemaking had been a mistake was the right thing to do, but banishing her from his thoughts and dreams was not an easy task. He’d tossed and turned all night—tormented by the look of disappointment on her face and haunted by the knowledge that once they reached their destination, he’d have to let her go. In time she would get over it and move on with her life, but could he?
He muttered a curse under his breath. He’d begun to question his priorities again and had to stop yearning for things he could never possess. Despite the memories of their night of unbridled passion, stolen moments, and what might have been, he’d made his decision, and meant to stick by it. He vowed to be strong and to resist temptation.
A tree branch snapped on the trail ahead of them. Connor held his hand in the air, signaling to the others to stop. As he quickly surveyed the area, he reached over his shoulder and slid the claymore from the baldric on his back—the scrape of steel against leather the only sound breaking the eerie silence. “Hold fast, and make ready.”
“What is it?” Bryce rode up beside his brother.
Connor narrowed his eyes and scanned the surrounding area again. “I heard something up ahead. Wait here while I check it out. Keep your head on a swivel, and dinna leave Cailin unattended. Guard her with your life if necessary.”
“You know I will. Be careful.” Bryce moved to her side and grabbed the reins of the palfrey.
“Why are we stopping?”
Bryce brought his finger to his lips to silence her.
Before Connor could spur Thor into action, a man bellowed from behind a large oak tree only a few feet away. “Halt, and state your business.”
Connor slid from the saddle, tossed Thor’s reins to Bryce, and then took up a fighting stance in the middle of the trail. “Come out and face me like a man, you cowardly buffoon.” He stood his ground when two huge men dressed in Highland plaid and sporting two-handed claymores, stepped into the clearing.
“Who do you think you’re calling a buffoon?” The older of the two men swung his claymore in a circle above his head.
“There are only two of you guarding the trail? I expected more of a challenge.” He glanced at Bryce, shrugged, and smiled.
“Connor, behind you!” Cailin shrieked when the older man lunged forward. As the attacker’s blade arced through the air, he turned and lifted his claymore in time to deflect the blow.
“You’re getting old, Cameron.” Connor laughed, and lowered his weapon. “There was a time when I would have never heard you coming. Nor would I have bested you in a fight.”
Cameron scowled. “I’m as spry as ever and will challenge any man who tries to prove differently. Especially a cocky young pup, who is still wet behind the ears.” He lowered his blade and took a step in Connor’s direction with his arm outstretched.
Cailin leaned toward Bryce. “You know these men?”
“They are two of Robert’s most trusted guardsmen. We’ve known Cameron since we were lads.” Bryce dismounted and joined his brother in greeting their comrades.
“Best we make haste.” Alasdair joined them. “We can catch up on old times once we’re inside the castle walls and have spoken with Robert.”
“He’s right. The Bruce has been anxiously awaiting your return, and it’s not wise to tarry here any longer.” Cameron’s eyes shifted from Cailin to Connor. “Where did you pick up the lad?”
“It is a long story, my friend.” Connor swung his leg over Thor’s back and pulled himself into the saddle with ease. “A story best told over a tankard of ale, mayhap two or three.” He kicked his horse, urging him forward.
Elaborate earthen works, a high stone curtain wall, a twin-towered gatehouse, and dry moat protected Kildrummy Castle from attack on three sides. Of French design, the back of the D-shaped structure bordered on a deep ravine, making it virtually impossible to breach the walls from behind. Four separate towers of equal height rose like giants above the parapets, but it was a single stone tower—at least seven stories tall—that she found most impressive. If an enemy managed to get into the bailey, the laird and his family could take refuge at the top, while his men rallied at the base to protect them.
“It is magnificent,” Cailin said as they approached a massive drawbridge.
Iron groaned, and chains rattled as the portcullis rose, granting them entrance to the castle bailey. Atop the parapets a crowd waved and cheered as they passed beneath the gate. However all grew quiet and heads turned when the daunting figure of a man stepped out of the center tower and descended the stone staircase.
The man strode across the bailey with an air of authority, and purpose. With his tall burly stature, broad shoulders, red hair, and piercing blue eyes, he could have been an older version of Alasdair. The family resemblance was unmistakable.
“Welcome home lads. We are glad you made it back safely.”
While introductions were forthcoming, Cailin already concluded that this strapping man in his mid forties must be Connor’s cousin, the famous Scottish patriot, Sir Simon Fraser. She watched the older man approach. Nibbling nervously on her lower lip, she couldn’t help but wonder what the future held. Now that they had reached Kildrummy Castle, would she be safe? Would Connor acknowledge her as his bride, or go ahead with his plan to have their union dissolved? He’d made his feelings about marriage clear, but she hoped he would change his mind. She had fallen in love with the man, but refused to be a millstone around his neck. Should he decide to go through with the annulment, she would not protest.
