Chapter Twenty
Jamie kept himself busy in the stables, helping to brush the horses. It was the only thing he knew to do after Callum and Malcolm both had hustled him out of the keep. He’d left Brianna alone to soak in the tub and was pacing a hole in the rushes in the great hall.
While Callum attended to his laird duties, Malcolm was busy in the armory helping to sharpen swords and polish armor.
Not that they expected anything to happen in the future, but Callum insisted on being prepared on the off chance something did happen.
He’d also been busy stocking the larder and making sure they had enough food for the inhabitants of the keep in case MacDonald decided to lay siege and starve them out.
They’d have enough provisions for the next two years or so.
Mucking stalls was the only other thing he managed to do while he thought of Brianna.
The lass had vexed him from the moment she arrived.
It was as though she’d stepped out of the tapestries.
Her visage was exactly like the magical woven fibers.
With her pale, wintery eyes and her auburn hair, she sent his senses reeling.
At first, he told himself she was nothing more than an infatuation since he’d spent so much time in the tapestry room waiting for her to fully appear.
But when she arrived, she was more beautiful than he’d ever imagined.
He’d spent his youth chasing women and bedding them.
He cared not for deep, amorous feelings.
Only the thrill of the pursuit and the end result.
It was the sole reason his uncle had packed him up and returned him from their journeys in Paris.
He had consorted with the wrong noble’s virgin daughter and managed to ruin her reputation.
He swore to Uncle Argyle he had no knowledge the girl was still chaste. At least not until it was far too late.
As it turned out, she was determined not to marry the man she was betrothed to and had used Jamie to ruin her reputation.
When he’d returned to Dundale, he’d made a silent vow he would never allow himself to fall for the charms of another woman.
And yet, here he was, vexed by the beautiful Brianna Sinclair.
Cursed by the curve of her full lips.
Charmed by her sweet kisses.
Bewitched by her soft skin.
Intoxicated by her sweet scent.
Most of all, he was enchanted by her impulsiveness and her strong sense of individuality. She knew her own mind. She knew what she wanted, even if she weren’t able to fully obtain it.
And yet, she was vulnerable. Absent-minded when it came to keeping up with her piece of the keystone, something that endeared her to him more than he wanted to acknowledge.
He didn’t want to admit those amorous feelings for her were starting to creep their way into his heart. He had fallen for her long before she’d stepped out of the tapestry as a flesh and blood woman.
“Hi, Jamie.”
Her voice startled him out of his thoughts. He stood straight and looked out over the stall wall.
There she was, standing inside the stable doorway as though he’d conjured her by thinking about her.
She clasped her hands in front of her, her gaze fixed on him and color high in her cheeks.
She wore no cloak and, he could tell, she tried hard not to shiver in the cool afternoon wind.
Her hair was long and loose, freshly washed, about her face.
She tucked a wayward lock behind her ear, gazing at him with those adoring eyes. He loved the way she looked at him.
He dropped the shovel he was using to muck the stall and reached for a rag to wipe the sweat from his brow.
He hadn’t noticed the cool wind so much since he started working in the stable.
He tossed aside the rag and walked toward her, the pain in his leg throbbing.
He tried hard not to limp, but it was hard to ignore the discomfort radiating outward from his healed calf.
“Hello, lass.”
He didn’t want to show her how happy he was to see her. It took some effort to keep his face impassive. But inside, joy ignited through his chest, spreading warmth. He managed to stop the grin that wanted to erupt.
“Am I interrupting?” she asked.
“Och, no’ at all. Ye look refreshed. Was yer bath satisfactory then?”
Refreshed really wasn’t the right word. She looked relieved. Almost happy. When he paused near her, she hooked her arm in his and turned toward the door.
“It was great. Thank you for doing that for me.” She hesitated a moment, as if there were something more on her mind. “Will you walk with me?”
“Aye.”
As they stepped out into the pale afternoon sunshine coupled with the brisk north wind, he noticed the cold as it hit his sweaty skin.
But even that wasn’t enough to dampen his happiness at having her by his side.
His heartbeat quickened. His pulse raced.
And he knew, in that moment, that he would do anything for her.
He would fight for her. He would die for her.
Such a strange, instant reaction to this woman whom he hardly knew and yet it seemed he’d waited for her his entire, disreputable life.
“Are ye well, lass?”
They took long, slow steps across the greenway. He tried to ignore his aching leg. He let her set the pace as she clutched his arm close to her. He suspected her slow steps were because she was aware of his limp and didn’t want to push him.
“Yes, better than I have been.”
“Ye seem to be.” On impulse, he placed his hand on her still bandaged one.
“I think my sisters and I have finally reconciled,” she said.
“Ah, I’m glad to hear it. I ken that troubled ye.”
She halted, turning to him, pressing her chilled body against him. On impulse, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. She snuggled closer.
“Jamie, thank you.”
“For what?” He was unsure for what she was thanking him.
“When I first came, you said something that stuck with me. You said it in that beautiful language of yours, but what you meant was blood warms to blood.”
“Aye…” he said slowly.
She tipped her head back to look up at him, her eyes bright and clear. “You were right. Family is everything. And they’re all I have left.”
“Och, lass. I dinnae think they’re all ye have left.” His voice was low and soft as he tilted his head down toward hers. His lips were a breath away from hers. If there were ever a time to tell her he loved her, now was it. Still, he hesitated.
She blinked owlish eyes at him, feigning ignorance. He spied the throbbing pulse in her neck and felt the jolt of her heart. “Who else do I have then?”
“Ye have my brothers and me.”
And then he kissed her. His mouth landed on hers in a soft, sweet kiss. He didn’t care that they stood in the middle of the bailey for all to see. He didn’t care if everyone knew he wanted her in his arms for all time. He wanted them to know she was his and he’d never let her go.
His kiss was gentle at first, tasting her sweet lips that he had trouble forgetting.
Then he moved his mouth over hers, devouring her softness.
Her arms slid around his waist as they stood there, the north wind whipping about them and her hair fluttering around her head.
She, like Chloe, had refused to braid her hair.
His hand slid up to those snarled tresses, his fingers tangling in the locks and then fisting them as he gently tugged her head back, breaking the kiss.
A breath shuddered out of her as he trailed kisses down the long column of her throat.
He pressed one long and slow kiss against that beating pulse.
Smug satisfaction eased through him. He liked he was the one to do that to her.
He realized then that this was not the time or the place to be kissing her, wanting her, seducing her.
Brianna Sinclair had ensorcelled him, forever changing him. He wanted to whisk her into his arms, take her to his chamber, and ravish her from head to toe.
In the distance, a rumbling that sounded like a war drum. She sucked in a quick breath and nudged out of his arms. The magical moment they shared suddenly shattered.
“What was that?” she asked.
A shout went up from the watchtower. Moments later, one of the guards ran down the steep steps and hurried across the bailey. He skidded to a halt when he saw Jamie.
“Where is the laird?” he asked, breathless.
“In the keep.” Jamie nodded to the building behind them. “What is it?”
Before he answered, a war horn blared through the late afternoon air. Brianna stiffened, moving closer if that were even possible. Jamie tightened his arms around her. In the not too far distance, the thunder of hooves sounded, becoming louder and louder.
He understood then what was about to happen as the guard hurried away to find Callum.
“Jamie?” Her voice shook. She shivered against him.
Without a word, he took her by the hand and headed for the stone steps at the wall. His limp hindered him as he tried to hurry, but he ignored the pain slashing through him. At the top of the wall, he paused. Brianna halted next to him, her breath see-sawing in and out as she tried to catch it.
Before them, there was a gap in space, similar to when the air had cracked open and Brianna had come through from the future.
Through that hole men on horseback galloped through.
Sitting to the left of the opening, holding his glowing great axe and dressed in full armor, was Rory MacDonald.
Hundreds of his men poured through the portal he’d created.
Foot soldiers pushed a trebuchet. Others carried a battering ram ready to do damage.
For all Callum’s preparations, they were not prepared for an attack of this magnitude.
“My God,” she breathed. “What…what is that?”
“That…” he said, his voice low as he tried to quell the fear, “is the MacDonald army. We’re about to be under siege.”