Chapter 5

Ilyssa couldn’t hold back her fast breaths as she stared up at Bran. Half of his face was bathed in the orange light of the fire, the other half in shadow. His expression was unreadable to her, but she couldn’t ignore the way they were standing. Why was he practically pinning her against the wall, even though he was not touching her? Why did her gut ache for him to touch her now that he had come so close?

“Ah, Ilyssa.” All sign of anger in his voice was suddenly gone. He hung his head forward, looking down at the floor between them. The action brought them that little bit closer. Her breath hitched for his usual scent wafted toward her –of pine trees. It was the scent she always associated with him. “That willnae happen.”

“Ye dinnae ken that,” she whispered, sliding her hands between her back and the wall behind her. She found she didn’t trust her own hands to be free. She was seconds away from pulling on Bran’s shirt, curling her body into his chest and hiding there.

He’s always been where I feel safest.

“What’s it like?” she whispered suddenly, her curiosity making the air burn around her.

“What?”

“Sex.” Her simple answer had a great effect, as if the air had been sucked outside of the room. He snapped his head up, his eyes finding hers. “What’s it like?” she asked again when he stayed silent, not hurrying to answer her. “When… ye both want it.” All her imaginings had recently been full of what her future may be, of being forced into the act. She didn’t want to think of that anymore. She wanted to think of thrilling sex, the exciting presence of being alone with a man in his bed.

“Dinnae ask me such things,” he whispered.

“Why nae?”

He sighed, shaking his head a little.

“Ye tempt me…”

She suddenly laughed and he smiled. Now, all signs of anger were gone between them. Bran was back to the man she felt safest with, the silent and quiet type, who would jest and smile with her when no one else was around.

“Tell me something,” she pleaded. “Anything.”

“It’s…” He hesitated; his eyes slanted in thought.

Ilyssa’s heartbeat was now so strong that she could feel it thumping against her ribcage. She wasn’t sure how to feel about the idea that Bran had lain with a woman. Did it thrill her to think he knew how to please a woman?

Then what’s this unpleasant feeling in me gut? Is it… envy? Nay!

She tried to clamp down on it, but it grew like a strong fire, encasing her gut.

“It’s a thrill like nay other. It’s intense,” he spoke in such a deep, gravelly voice that her breathing began to match his, their chests rising and falling together. “It’s a physical experience that cannae be matched any other way, if… it’s done right. If it’s shared with someone who wants tae share it with ye too.”

She chewed her lip in thought. His words were conjuring a picture now. She thought of his hands sliding on the wall toward her body. She imagined his fingers brushing the sides of her waist, the briefest and most tantalizing of touches.

Where did this come from?

“There are many things two people can dae in the bedchamber tae explore one another.”

“What dae ye mean?” she asked, her eyes searching his. He smiled now, that lopsided smile she found so endearing. “Dinnae laugh at me because of me ignorance.”

“I am nae laughing,” he assured her, his voice growing deeper still. “I guess I’m just wondering what yer reaction would be if I told ye what those other things were.”

“What are they?” She burned to know now. She had no idea there were other things beside that one act. Would he show her, if she asked him to?

What am I thinking of?

Her mind conjured multiple images. She saw herself and Bran on the bed behind them. Their bodies were entangled, their limbs wrapped around one another as he kissed her, his hand reaching for the skirt of her gown and dragging it up around her hips.

“Bran?” she whispered, wetting her lips and trying to focus on the man before her and nothing else. “What else can men and women dae together?”

He groaned aloud.

“Dinnae ask me that,” he begged.

“I’d rather ken from ye,” she said in a rush. “I dinnae wish tae find these things out when I am married, and Cillian Grant is forcing me tae dae them.”

“That will never happen,” he said with sudden strength. His palms shifted on the wall. She thought he would move them closer to her, but to her dismay, he moved them further apart, yet he bent at his elbows, and it made him stand that bit nearer to her. “Ye willnae marry him.”

“Ye keep saying that, but the truth is that neither ye or me braither ken how tae get out of this contract me grandfaither made. If me braither’s offer of land and money is refused, what more does he have tae give in me place? Nothing!” she declared with passion.

“The Gillian touches ye without yer permission, I’ll run him through,” Bran declared with heat.

“Being me protector again, Bran? Like when we were young?”

He leaned an inch toward her.

“Always.”

Ilyssa’s heart was racing now. All that she knew was that she didn’t want Bran to pull away. She wanted him to come closer still. Her gaze darted from his eyes down to his lips. Would it be such an awful thing to kiss him now? To push the boundaries of what they had always known together, to explore something more?

Then he tilted his head to the side.

He’s going tae kiss me –

A heavy thud sounded in the corridor. Bran lifted his head back as they both turned to look at the door. There was a beat of silence then the floorboards creaked as if under someone’s weight. Someone had crossed the landing.

By the time Ilyssa turned back to Bran, the spell that had been cast over them had gone.

He stepped back from the wall, so far that he retreated all the way across the room.

“It’s time ye went back tae yer room, Ilyssa.”

She didn’t trust her voice to be level so she stayed silent, longing for that spell to be cast over them again, so they could try that kiss.

What has changed things between us?

He picked up his jerkin suddenly and pulled it on over his shoulders.

“Come, I’ll walk ye back tae yer room.”

“I can find me own way. I dinnae need a guard.”

“I’m saying that ye dae. Who kens what men are in this inn and what’s on their mind.” He hastened to the door and flung it open, stepping out. Slowly, Ilyssa followed behind him. Her heartrate was still racing.

They walked in silence toward her room. Ilyssa thought of breaking the silence, but each time she parted her lips to ask why he had nearly kissed her, her courage failed her, and she closed her lips again. Bran showed no sign of talking about it either. He simply turned the door handle and opened it, urging her to go inside.

In the chamber, Catreena was sat up on her bed, her hands fidgeting nervously.

“I willnae tell Tad,” Bran said suddenly.

“Why nae?” Ilyssa asked, turning around sharply to face him in the doorway.

“I dinnae think it will help matters. Just take more care next time. Both of ye,” Bran warned, looking between them. “And lock this door when I leave. Oh, and Ilyssa?”

“Aye?” She looked at him with hope.

“Dinnae be so stupid again.”

“Eejit,” she murmured, using a name she had often used for him.

Only this time, he didn’t smile the way he usually did when she said that. He walked away, leaving the corridor empty and suddenly cold without him. Ilyssa shut the door and locked it fast, leaning on the wood.

“What happened?” Catreena asked, standing off the bed. “What did he say?”

Ilyssa couldn’t tell her friend the truth, not when she and Bran had come so close to crossing a boundary they had never encountered before.

“He just reprimanded me.”

Bran rode his horse behind Ilyssa and Catreena, staying close by Tad’s side. The snow was no longer falling as thickly as it had done the day before, but the ground was still cold and frosty in the aftermath. It slowed their journey and made them all shiver beneath the cloaks and wolf furs that covered them.

“I hope yer plan works, Tad,” Bran said as they rode along a road out of town, toward Grant Castle, that was perched at the bottom of a mountain. The tall grey spires reached like a cathedral toward the clouds.

“Aye, me too.” Yet there was little hope in Tad’s voice. The strangeness of the tone made Bran turn to look at his friend in wonder.

Tad had clearly achieved what he had wanted the night before. He had got his distraction in the form of the red-haired barmaid but come the morning, when he had returned to the inn, it was plain to see that he was preoccupied again. He had been serious all day, his expression never once shifting from a frown.

“If I have tae leave sooner than I thought tae make another plan, ye will stay, willnae ye?” Tad asked most determinedly under his breath.

“I have already told ye I will.” Bran had no intention of leaving Ilyssa’s side, especially not after what had happened the night before.

He had come so close to weakness, so close to kissing her. What would she have made of that? He could only presume she would have thrust him off. Despite how close they had stood, she had not once reached out to him, had he?

I crossed a line last night. It cannae happen again, or I might lose her as a friend forever.

“Aye, I ken, but forgive a braither his worries. I need tae hear ye say it again,” Tad pleaded.

“Ye have me word,” Bran assured him. “I will stay and watch both Ilyssa and Catreena. Nay harm will come tae them in the castle.”

“Thank ye.” Tad managed a small sigh of relief, though it did not last.

They had reached the giant gateway to the castle. Two guards carrying pikes opened the gate, clearly expecting their arrival. The heavy scraping of the wood on earth was ominous, making all four of them fall silent.

Ilyssa no longer led the way but had stilled her horse before the gate. Tad steered his horse around her and walked into the compound of the castle. Ahead of them, a long lawn stretched ahead of them, reaching from the curtain wall toward the keep and the courtyard in front of it. Bran rode his horse alongside Ilyssa’s, practically her shadow, as they followed Tad.

More than once Bran glanced at Ilyssa, yet she never looked his way, not once.

As they halted in the courtyard, there was an entire entourage ready to greet them. Grooms took hold of the horses so they could all dismount, and maids hurried forward with trays carrying tankard and flagons of mead.

Bran ignored the mead for his eyes were trained on the white-painted doors at the front of the keep. They opened slowly, and two men walked out. He could not mistake the identity of the two for the grandeur of their dress announced their position. The elder had to be Laird Gilroy Grant. His hair was a mixture of white and black. He wore an ermine-fur lined cloak, as if he was even higher in status than a laird. His face, haggard with age, with his hair turned upward, in what Bran supposed was an attempt to look taller than he was.

At his side walked a man that had similar dark eyes, though he was much younger. This had to be Cillian Grant. Frustratingly, the man was no ugly brute to look at. He had handsome lines, strong features that might make a woman swoon. Bran cursed under his breath as he stared at the man with short black hair.

“Ah! Welcome, welcome,” Laird Gilroy declared, his voice rather nasally as he tried to boom the words across the courtyard. “Ye are most welcome indeed. Ah, ye must be Laird Tad, and I see ye have brought… friends with ye.” His eyes passed uncertainly toward Bran, then he shifted his focus completely toward Tad and shook his hand in greeting.

“Aye, I have. Good tae meet ye, Laird Gilroy.” Tad’s words were polite enough though Bran could hear the forced nature of the words. “May I introduce me sister, Lady Ilyssa.”

Bran looked around to see she stood, quite cold and impassive, between the horses, making no move forward to greet the two men. In the end, Tad had to jerk his head at her, and even Catreena subtly stood on her foot to get her moving.

Slowly, Ilyssa walked forward to meet the men.

“Ah, I see yer beauty has been greatly underestimated,” Laird Gilroy said charmingly, as he took her hand and kissed the back.

“Thank ye,” she murmured stiffly. Her hand was passed into Cillian Grant’s hand who lingered far too long kissing it.

Bran balled his hands into fists at his side. He didn’t notice Catreena had moved to his side until he caught sight of her jerking her head toward him in surprise at the sound.

“Come,” she whispered, threading her arm through his and dragging him toward the group.

“Charmed,” Cillian said smoothly to Ilyssa, who had rather hurriedly removed her hand from his.

“And who are these guests?” Laird Gilroy asked with a warm smile, though Bran could see a hint of something more in his gaze. He was uneasy for he did not know who they were.

“This is me sister’s dearest friend in the world, Lady Catreena,” Tad gestured to Catreena first, who curtsied. “Younger sister tae Laird Mackintosh.”

Both Laird Gilroy and Cillian’s eyes widened in surprise, their similarities all the more noticeable because of it.

“I wished me friend tae come with me tae see me… new home,” Ilyssa said hurriedly. Hearing her call it home made Bran’s hands ball into fists again. There was nothing at all about this situation that was to his liking.

“And I unfortunately, cannae go anywhere without me own escort,” Catreena interjected happily, gesturing to Bran beside her. “One of me braithers, Bran.”

Bran inclined his head, feeling Cillian’s and Laird Gilroy’s gaze cutting into him.

“Well, any friends of Laird Tad’s are certainly friends of ours. Come, come, inside. Ye must be freezing after yer journey in all this snow.” Laird Gilroy beckoned them toward the doors of the keep.

Cillian offered his arm to Ilyssa to escort her inside, but Bran stepped forward and conveniently put himself between the two of them, so that Cillian could not touch her. They followed the rest of the group inside, hovering in the entrance hall as the maids followed with the trays of mead.

“Here, take some refreshments,” Laird Gilroy urged. “Then ye will be shown tae yer rooms where ye can rest up before our dinner tonight. We shall feast!” he declared happily, holding his arms open wide. “In honor of our guest.” He walked toward Ilyssa.

To Ilyssa’s credit, she held her ground and did not cower away in fear. She matched his smile and curtsied in acknowledgement of the compliment he was trying to pay her.

“Ye are most welcome indeed tae our home, me lady. We have longed fer yer arrival fer some time. Have we nae, me son?”

“Indeed, we have,” Cillian said smoothly. He moved toward Ilyssa and bowed to her, at all times maintaining eye contact.

A searing shot of anger flashed through Bran and he suddenly had the desire to punch Cillian in the nose and break it the way he had done to the drunkard in the tavern the night before, but Cillian stepped out of his reach too quickly.

“Ye will stay fer dinner, will ye nae, Laird Tad?” Laird Gilroy asked Tad most particularly.

“Aye, I will. There is much we need tae discuss.” There was a glimmer in his face, a hint at what he wished to discuss.

“I look forward tae it.” Yet it was plain Laird Gilroy was no longer listening. His eyes, like Cillian’s, were back on Ilyssa.

“Oh dear,” Catreena whispered behind her tankard of mead, so only Bran could hear her. “They are looking at her like she is some prize, are they nae?”

“Aye. It’s what sort of prize they believe her tae be that makes afears me,” Bran confessed, as his sister nodded heartily in agreement.

What dae they have planned fer her?