Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

C raig rubbed his arm. "That was a heavy blow with yer cudgel, me friend. I'll have a fine bruise tomorrow."

As they did most mornings, Arran and Craig had been sparring in the training yard behind the stables. Despite the protection of Craig's round leather shield, Arran had delivered a fierce blow to his arm.

Arran nodded. "Aye. I'm sorry fer taking out me vexations on ye, Craig."

"What ails ye?"

Arran shook his head. "'Tis thoughts that torment me. I'm nae ill, but I forget mesel' at times, wanting tae tear a hole in the castle wall. I regret ye were on the receiving end of me doleful meanderings this morning."

"More's the pity it was nay a true enemy ye aimed yer blow at. D'ye care tae share yer troublesome thinking?""

Arran shook his head. He was not prepared to share his forbidden thoughts of Dahlia with Craig or anyone else. He was yearning to catch a glimpse of her but for the past two weeks he'd been keeping well away from her solar or the battlements where he knew she sometimes walked.

He dare not risk the safety of the two women who held his heart: his mother Emilia, and the Lady Dahlia MacLeod.

The two men sluiced their heated faces in the barrel of fresh cold water kept filled in the training yard. They were drying themselves on linen towels which were hung on the peg beside the stable door for that purpose when Arran looked up in surprise to see the scowling figure of Bairre approaching.

Craig greeted him cheerfully but Bairre brushed him aside with no more than a grunt. "'Tis ye I wish tae speak with Arran. In me study as soon as ye've donned a clean shirt and britches."

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and headed back to the keep.

Arran exchanged a mystified glance with Craig. "Seems urgent."

Craig shrugged. "I dinnae ken what he wants with ye. But ye'd best make haste. He seems tae be in one of his black moods."

Bairre was standing with his back to him when Arran entered the study.

He was an imposing figure, as tall and almost as broad as Arran and he could have been handsome, despite his long sharp nose and black, suspicious eyes, but there was always something dark about his face. He seldom smiled and even when he did, there was no warmth in it.

He looked up when Arran entered, his face like thunder, as he gestured to the seat in front of the fire place.

The both sat and Arran stared into the flames, his thoughts racing. He'd had no contact with his mother for several months and had no idea of her whereabouts. For all Arran was aware she could have been taken to one of the many islands to be secreted in a nunnery at one of the priories, or even further afield.

He'd questioned Craig for any information he could provide, any clues that could have led Arran to find her. Even he had no knowledge of where Bairre had hidden her, although as war leader he was privy to the activities of Castle Mackinnon. But Bairre was aware that Craig was Arran's closest friend, so he didn't tell him anything about Emilia.

Bairre offered Arran a dram of whisky, which he accepted. This was unusual, Bairre was seldom a good host. He took a sip and waited to hear what was so urgent that he'd been ordered here with such haste.

"D'ye have word of me maither?"

Bairre shrugged the question aside. "Yer maither is well enough fer now, as long as ye perform the tasks I've set ye."

Arran gritted his teeth, hating the man's power over him.

"I've another duty fer ye."

Arran bit down the angry words on his tongue and nodded, wondering what Bairre was planning now.

Bairre cleared his throat, taking his time to continue. "I have some concerns that me fiancée may be planning tae depart fer Castle MacLeod and she hasnae my permission fer such travel." He moved uncomfortably in his seat, clearly displeased. Arran could only wonder what may have passed between Dahlia and Bairre that had brought him to such a moment.

"I wish fer ye tae guard the lass. Keep her under watch. Ensure that she doesnae find an opportunity tae flee this place."

Arran's stomach lurched. "Are ye asking me tae accompany her during the day, watching over all she does tae?"

Bairre narrowed his eyes. "Aye. Ye've gained the sense of it. Dae what ye must tae contain her in the castle. If she wishes tae take the air or ride, fer instance, ye must go with her. I dinnae trust the lass and I wish ye tae be with her at all times making sure she understands she cannot leave the castle."

Arran took a moment to breathe a deep sigh. "Ye're asking a great deal, Bairre. It is well right impossible tae maintain surveillance over a lass at all times."

"Ye will sleep outside her door at night so that she cannae pass by without waking ye. Ye'll stand by when she visits the privy, ye'll nae allow her any time tae herself, even when she's sits embroidering in the solar ye must be close at hand."

Nodding slowly at Bairre's words, Arran's thoughts were in disarray. To be so close to Dahlia at all times would be torture. He studied Bairre's features noting the hint of a smile playing at the other man's mouth. It was a look of grim satisfaction and knowing.

He saw at once that Bairre's suspicions about himself and Dahlia had not been assuaged. It was clear he was baiting a trap for Arran. While he kept watch over Dahlia, no doubt there would be another, keeping watch over him, hidden in the shadows, following his every step. Observing him while he slept at her door. Taking note of every small exchange that took place between them and reporting back to Bairre.

Bairre rose to his feet. "Now go. Find the lass fer I wish ye tae pass her a message from me. Ye may inform her she has nay chance of leaving the castle and that ye will be guarding her night and day from now on. And I wish ye tae invite her tae dine with me in my solar this evening. I wish tae spend the evening with her. And, of course, as her personal guard, ye will be attending also."

At these words, Arran felt physically ill. Not only was he to be Dahlia's shadow, but he would be forced to watch her together with Bairre.

Ah yes. This will be Bairre's special form of torment. He is forcing me tae attend while he sets about seducing Dahlia.

He found Dahlia in her solar staring into space, her embroidery hoop untouched beside her. At the sound of his entrance, she swung around, a smile lighting up her face.

The breath hitched in his throat at the sight of her. With the sole beam of light falling on her from the high set window she was glowing, her hair falling in a glorious cloud over her shoulders. He'd never seen anyone as beautiful. It took him moments before he could speak sensibly when all he wished to do was extoll her beauty and take her in his arms.

Instead, he managed a slight bow and composed his features into something resembling normality.

"Good day tae ye, melady."

"Why Arran, this is indeed a pleasure. I havenae laid eyes on ye in weeks."

Her soft voice with its gentle thrill of delight touched deep into his heart. How he wished he could speak of his true feelings.

She tapped the padded seat beside her. As he sat – too close beside her but, at the same time, so distant – he breathed in the scent of roses that always seemed to float around her. Despite willing himself to hide the anguish it cost him to be with her here, his body betrayed him and he felt himself growing hard in his britches. He shifted in his seat in an attempt to disguise the growing bulge, silently cursing his manhood for not knowing its place.

"How have things been fer ye Arran?" She picked up a box of sweetmeats from the table and he took one, grateful for the distraction.

"Has there been any word from yer maither?

"Alas, nae. Bairre makes certain there is very little contact between us. And, as long as I continue tae dae his bidding he declares she is safe."

Tear sprang into Dahlia's eyes. "It is a cruel fate fer all of us tae be in the clutches of Bairre Mackinnon."

"Aye it is indeed. And that brings me to the point of this mission. He has bid me pass on a message."

"Oh?" She sat up straight. "He has decided to allow me tae return tae me home?"

"I wish, fer yer sake I could say aye, but it isnae so. He has ordered me tae be yer guard. Tae keep ye under watch night and day tae be certain ye dinnae flee this place. If ye dae escape, me maither's life will immediately be forfeit."

She groaned loudly, a frown creasing her forehead, and subsided back into her chair, a hand flying to her throat. "I can scarce believe the man's cruelty. He is truly evil."

"I can only agree with ye." He leaned forward resting his head in his hands. "But, fer all that, I will dae everything in me power tae keep ye safe from him."

"Aye. I ken that and I thank ye."

"There is one more thing. He has asked ye tae dine with him this evening. A private meal between the two of ye in his solar."

She jumped to her feet. "Nay. I cannae contemplate such a thing. Tae be alone with that… that… beast. It is more than I can bear."

"I understand ye're reluctant, lass, but fer now, until we can find a way out of this mess, we both must obey. The worst of it is, as yer personal guard he insists I be present in the solar also."

"Nay!" The word exploded out of her mouth. "Bairre is insane. He bids me join him fer a private meal but insists ye be present also."

Arran gave a grim smile. "Mayhap he's afraid ye'll run him through with a knife during the meal and he seeks me protection."

Returning his smile, she nodded. "Why, that is exactly what I wish tae dae tae him. Mayhap he is smarter than I thought"

"Well then, melady, when ye finish yer business in the solar I shall accompany ye tae yer chamber so that ye may make ready fer yer evening spent with the laird."

She shuddered. "I cannae tolerate the thought of it."

"I'd hate tae have tae carry ye there mesel' but if it comes to it…" He shrugged.

She pouted. "All right. I'll agree, but only tae save us from his wrath."

"All right. I'll wait outside the solar fer ye and accompany ye tae yer chamber." As he stood at the door he was conscious that there could well be someone, a servant, a squire, a serving-maid, waiting in the shadows observing his every move. He looked around, but apart from chambermaids hurrying along the corridor he saw no one lurking who could be spying on his movements.

They walked together in an agonizing silence, with Arran two paces behind Dahlia, keeping a distance that meant no conversation could pass between them. Any watcher would be disappointed if it was expected the two of them would indulge in private words.

When they reached the door to her chamber, they both scanned up and down the passageway.

"Unless there's an invisible wraith hovering nearby, I believe we have the place tae ourselves, if only fer a brief while." This was the moment he'd been praying for. A chance to spend time, in private, with Dahlia.

"There's nae one in sight," she said, opening the door. "If ye hasten intae me chamber now, nae one will see."

It was an invitation impossible for him to refuse. At least for a brief time he would be with her with no watchful eyes on them. His heart quickened and without any encouragement, his manhood twitched and thickened.

"Lass, I cannae say nay, yet I fear we are taking a fearful risk."

She stepped into the room and he followed. Once he'd drawn the door closed behind him, he swept her into his arms without another word.

Their mouths found each other before each of them could take a breath. All the pent-up longing and passion of the two weeks of silence was in their kiss. It was a greedy, desperate meeting of lips and tongues, as if they could somehow devour each other in the kissing and never be separated.

She was pressed so close to his hardness it seemed his mind would break with the longing for her. Her scent of roses filled his senses, the softness of her hair flowing down her back as he brought his hands up to the fragrant tresses and tightened his hold on her.

The urging of her tongue, sweet with the taste of almond and honey, nearly drove him out of his mind. He cupped her behind with both his hands, drawing her even closer against him, his heart beating like bodhran. She gasped, writhing against him, her breasts soft against his chest, her thighs opening ever so slightly creating a space for his manhood. He uttered a guttural, deep groan. What he would give to strip her clothes and feel the silk of her naked skin against him.

"Aye lass," he managed when at last they pulled apart to breathe again. "I've dreamed of nothing but this moment all this time. I've wanted nothing but tae take ye in me arms. I've been able tae think of naught else but ye."

She laughed softly. "Arran Mackinnon, I have thought of nothing but ye in all me waking hours and ye've been in me dreams at night."

"I must find a way tae rescue my maither so we can be free of Bairre. If he discovers we're together our lives will be cut short without delay, so we must use all caution so that he doesnae discover us. I want us both tae live and make our way to safety, tae a place where we can be taegether.

Looking at him with her clear blue eyes she gave a grave nod. "I wish nothing more than tae be away from this cursed place."

"But, for now, he's charged me with guarding ye tae ensure ye dinnae escape. If ye flee, he'll murder Emilia. And I think he is playin' with us, fer while he asked me tae watch ye, I am sure he is having us watched fer he suspects us."

Dahlia's responded with a deep shudder.

He took her hand and pressed it to his lips before turning to the door. Pulling it slowly open he glanced into the passageway. No one was visible.

Turning to her he grinned. "Mayhap he has yet tae place his guards tae catch us out."

"We can only pray that is so." Dahlia's lower lip trembled and her eyes were glazed with tears. "And, meanwhile, I'm tae spend an evening in the company of the devil himself, the Laird Bairre Mackinnon."