Never Love a Highlander

A garbled sound of rage roared from her throat. She looked as though she wanted to clench her fingers around her hair and pull.



“Nay, you shouldn’t have protected me better, husband. What you should have done was allowed me to protect myself!”



“You’re not making sense, lass. Calm down. Let’s go inside. You should be above stairs in your chamber.”



“Do you know what had just happened before those men attacked me?” she asked, ignoring his suggestion to return indoors. “I’ll tell you what happened. My sword had just been taken by Hugh because he said he didn’t want me to be harmed and ’twas not a womanly thing to be wielding a sword. He warned the other men that any who engaged me in swordplay would answer to him.”



She advanced on Caelen and poked a finger into his chest. “If I had my sword, those men would have never gotten close to me. They wouldn’t have shoved me to the snow. They wouldn’t have touched me. They wouldn’t have hit me.”



Ah, but the lass had worked herself into a fit of rage that was impressive to behold. It shamed him that he fair quivered with lust as she bore down on him aggressively as a warrior about to deliver a death blow.



’Twas all he could do not to bear her into the snow and divest her of her tunic and those hated trews.



“If you wanted a meek lady of the manor with all the social niceties and the proper grooming and breeding to be a perfect hostess and compliment to you, then you should have thought before you stepped forward to marry in your brother’s stead. He knew what he was getting.”



She planted her hands on her hips and stepped forward again until her chest was pressed against his midsection.



“I am none of those things. I have no desire to be those things. I had set my mind to relent and to apply myself to be the perfect wife, and then the men came across the brook and overpowered me as easily as they would a child. What good am I to you or to my clan if I cannot even defend myself? How am I supposed to protect my kin? The children? The other women of the keep? Will I stand over the graves of others and murmur that I was a good wife and a gracious lady? Will that be of comfort to their families? Will they forgive that I stood by and allowed their loved one to die because my husband wanted a wife who could smile prettily and curtsy without getting her feet tangled?”



Caelen battled the smile that threatened. He bit at his bottom lip and valiantly tried to keep his amusement at bay, for if he laughed now, she might well spit him on her dagger.



’Twas the truth he should be angry at her blatant show of disrespect. He should even now be reprimanding her. But ’twas the first sign of life he’d seen in the week since her attack, and God’s truth, she was glorious in her rage.



“Think you this is funny?” she demanded.



She shoved at him with all her might, surprising him with her sudden move. He went down in the snow, landing with a thud. He glared up at her as he dusted the snow from the tops of his legs.



She stood over him now, holding him captive with her fiery gaze. Then her expression became pained, and the shadows returned to her eyes.



“Let me be who I am, Caelen. I would not ask you to change who you are. I can help you if you’d let me. Don’t relegate me to the shadows, pulling me out only when ’tis convenient for you. Maybe ’tis the way of things in the world, but it doesn’t have to be that way for us.”



Caelen sighed as her impassioned plea made a direct hit to a region of his heart he’d long thought dead. “ ’Tis so important to you to dress as a man and wield a sword?”



She frowned and shook her head. “ ’Tis not the manner of dress that ’tis important. If you can show me how to successfully wield a sword in a woman’s gown, I’ll not gainsay you if you tell me not to wear this manner of dress again.”



“You can’t go about swinging a sword in a gown,” Caelen muttered. “You’d trip over the hem.”



For the first time she smiled, her eyes lighting up with more life than he’d seen in quite some time. “Then I have your permission to wear these garments?”



He sighed in disgust. “When have you ever sought my permission for anything, lass?”



“I can be accommodating,” she defended.



He rolled his eyes. “When it suits your purposes, aye.” Then he narrowed his gaze to stare intently at her. “There are conditions, Rionna. Henceforth, my commander will accompany you everywhere. And I mean everywhere. You’ll go nowhere unescorted. I’ll not have happen again what happened in my absence. If I have need of Gannon to accompany me, then Hugh will take over as your escort.”



She nodded her acceptance.



“Second, you’ll train with me and only with me. You are to spar with no other man. If you want to learn, you’ll be trained by the best, and I won’t be easy on you because you’re my wife.”



She grinned cheekily. “I would expect no less, husband.”



“You’ll not take to binding your breasts.”



At that she raised an eyebrow and looked suspiciously at him.



He grinned lazily up at her. “ ’Tis not just for my pleasure. ’Tis nonsense. I may let you dress as a man, but you’ll not try to look like one.”



“Anything else, husband?” she asked as she tapped her foot in the snow.



“Aye, help me up.”



With a roll of her eyes, she reached down to give him her hand. The lass would never learn. He grasped her wrist and with a quick yank, tossed her into the snow beside him.



She rose up, snow covering her face, blinking at him as if she had no idea why he’d done such. He merely smiled back. “Revenge, lass. Revenge.”



With a disgusted look she launched herself at him, rolling them both into the snow. He gave a laugh and then came astride her. With a free hand, he balled some of the snow and held it menacingly over his shoulder.



“You wouldn’t dare,” she said.



He let fly and laughed again as she blinked away the snow from her face. It slid over her cheeks, revealing her look of shock. Then her eyes flashed with the light of battle.



Worried that her mistress and the laird had been out in the cold for so long, Sarah hurried to the doorway. When she opened the door, she was shocked to see the laird atop Rionna in the snow.



How could he have so little care when she was so fragile from her attack? The man had gone mad. It was on the tip of her tongue to issue a sharp reprimand to her laird when she heard Rionna’s laughter ring out through the cold air.



Rionna rolled atop the laird and began stuffing snow in his face. The laird fought back and snow flew fast and furious.



A wide smile formed on Sarah’s face and she quietly retreated back indoors, closing the door behind her to give them privacy.



CHAPTER 18



For the first time since the attack, Rionna came down to the hall for the evening meal. She could feel the stares of the men and women alike and it was all she could do not to cover the bruises and hie herself back up to her chamber.



But she’d spent enough time hiding. She wouldn’t do so any longer.



Caelen looked up in surprise and then stood as she neared the table. The other warriors did the same and then Caelen motioned for Simon to vacate the seat so that Rionna could sit next to Caelen.



“I would have made sure you had your meal in our chamber,” Caelen said in a low voice when he retook his seat.



She smiled. “ ’Tis sweet of you to attend me so, but ’tis time I came out of hiding. The bruises make me look hideous, but ’tis nothing wrong with the rest of me.”



He tipped her chin upward and turned her face this way and that in the light, a pensive expression on his face. He didn’t offer false compliments or tell her she really didn’t look hideous. Strangely she found that comforting.



“The bruising is fading. In a few days’ time, ’twill be completely gone.”



His fingers rubbed over the faint fingerprints at her neck, and his nostrils flared before he pulled his hand away and resumed eating his meal.



At the meal’s end, Rionna stood to excuse herself. The meal had been quiet, as if the men feared upsetting her in some way. It would take time to convince them she wasn’t going to fall apart at the least provocation. ’Twas her fault they’d gained that impression with the way she’d acted, but how could she explain in words how helpless and angry she’d felt at the hands of her attackers?



’Twas not something the men would understand. She much preferred to move ahead and not dwell on past events. In time they’d forget as well.



Caelen stayed her with his hand and then nodded toward Gannon. “I’ll go up with you,” he said to Rionna, surprising her.



Caelen made a point of relaxing with the men after the evening meal. ’Twas his way of building camaraderie after a long day’s training. He listened to their ideas, indulged in ribald jests, most of which made Rionna’s eyes roll, and talked about the day’s events. He and Gannon both made attempts to reach out to the McDonald warriors, a fact Rionna appreciated even if the men still hadn’t fully accepted or embraced Caelen as laird.



But tonight he excused himself, his fingers still wrapped gently around Rionna’s wrist. Then he guided her toward the stairs and they went up to their chamber.



“ ’Twasn’t necessary for you to come up with me,” Rionna said when he shut the door behind him.



“Aye, I know it. ’Twas my choice. Perhaps I preferred to converse with my wife instead of the men tonight.”



She turned and rested her gaze on his face, searching his eyes for some sign of his intent. “Have you something specific in mind?”



“Perhaps. Make ready for bed, wife. You look tired. I’ll add more wood to the fire, and we’ll retire early this night.”



Puzzled by his odd mood, she did as he bade and began to undress. She reached for her nightdress when he made a sound of disapproval. She looked up to see him bending over the hearth, wood in hand and shaking his head at her.



“Nay?”



“I would feel your skin next to mine.”



’Twas not an unreasonable request, but tonight it made her feel shy and a little uncertain, and it angered her that she would feel this way.



As if sensing her uncertainty, Caelen rose from the hearth and crossed the room. Gently he took the nightdress from her grasp and laid it over the chair by the fire.



“I’ll not make any demands of you, Rionna. I would do nothing to frighten you. But I’ve missed the feel of you next to me and your warmth and scent on my skin. I would have that tonight if it causes you no upset.”



She put her hand on his chest and stared up at him, her heart going soft at the tenderness in his voice. “You do not frighten me, Caelen. ’Tis the truth I feel safest when I’m near to you.”



He laid his hand over hers and then pulled it to his mouth. He kissed the inside of her palm and left it against his lips for a moment before lowering it once more.



“Come to bed. ’Tis cold tonight and the wind howls through the furs at the window.”



Rionna climbed underneath the furs and watched as Caelen disrobed in the glow of the fire. When he turned to the bed, she pulled back the furs, an invitation.



As soon as he got into bed, she snuggled close, sighing as his warmth enveloped her.



Caelen chuckled against her hair. “You sound near to purring, wife.”



“Mmm. You feel good, husband.”



He laid the flat of his palm over her back and stroked up and down, his even breathing sounding close to her ear.



“I’ve been thinking on things,” he said.



She frowned against his neck. A conversation never ended well that started with such words. She pulled away and his hand stilled on the small of her back.



“What matters have you been thinking on?”



“Tell me why you dress as you do and why you’ve put so much practice in with a sword.”



Her eyes widened. Of all the subjects she thought he might broach, this wasn’t one of them.



“ ’Tis plain to see you’ve devoted a lot of time to the practice of warfare. You have to admit ’tis an odd undertaking for a lass. Your father wasn’t approving. I saw his reaction when you bested the McCabe warrior when you were visiting McCabe keep.”



When she remained quiet, he stroked over her back again, his touch light and soothing.



“And now, when you were attacked and sorely beaten, a traumatic event for anyone, much less a lass as slight as you are, I thought it had made you afraid, but you were angry because you’d been stripped of the ability to defend yourself.”



“Aye,” she whispered. “It made me feel helpless. I hated it.”



“What has made you so fierce in your determination to protect yourself, Rionna? ’Tis not something a lass usually thinks upon. ’Tis up to her kin, her father, brother, or husband to watch over her and protect her from harm, and yet you ask no one to do these things for you.”



She closed her eyes as shame crowded in. Caelen knew of her father’s disgraceful actions, but saying her fears aloud only made it worse.

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