Highland Spitfire

Three

May Day was one of those few days when clan rivalry was abandoned. At the crossroads of the MacPherson, Robertson, Grant, and Gordon lands, merchants arrived to set up their stalls. There were metalworkers, cloth sellers, and leather craftsmen. The time when a castle produced everything for itself was passing into the pages of history. Now, there were merchants who made their living by bringing exotic fruits inland from the ports. Even so early in spring, there were oranges and pomegranates brought by ship from Spain. There were spices brought in from faraway lands.

The merchants were joined by jugglers and musicians. The air was festive, and the four clans mixed freely, their animosity displayed only in games of strength. Instead of wielding swords against one another, they tossed cabers—long poles as big as trees—and tried to get them to flip end over end.

Ailis brushed out her hair and put on a wreath of spring greens to celebrate the new season. Many girls had risen at dawn to wash their faces in the morning dew to ensure their youthful beauty. More than one young maiden had celebrated spring with more than dew.

She hadn’t, because she was a laird’s daughter and expected to remain a virgin until she wed, so she wasn’t allowed to join the other girls in the predawn hours. At least she was able to go to the fair every year. The rest of the castle inhabitants had to take turns, because it would never do for the castle to be left empty.

But for some girls, taking a lover on May Day was a way to decide upon a husband. Ailis envied them the opportunity to make sure they would have no unpleasant surprises on their wedding nights.

She’d certainly had a shock on hers.

Ailis shook her head. She would not think of Bhaic MacPherson or her wedding night. She was not married. But only because she hadn’t been bedded.

She shivered, but she honestly wasn’t sure if it was caused by revulsion or excitement.

Yes, ye do know.

Heat teased her cheeks as she admitted it was excitement. She had enjoyed his kiss. It would be a lie not to admit that she had also wondered what else she might enjoy.

Which was why she wandered out into the fair, smiling at the men who passed. It was time to apply her attention to getting some offers she was actually interested in receiving.

* * *

“Ye’re a beast of a man, Bhaic MacPherson,” Symon Grant shouted across the green where they had been tossing cabers. Bhaic smirked and bent his arms at the elbows to show off his muscles. His chest was bare, sweat trickling down his abdomen.

Symon closed the distance and offered him a slap on the back. “Damned lucky too. I thought I had ye on that last toss.”

“Almost,” Bhaic admitted.

“Which is nae enough, so ye can buy me some ale.”

Bhaic chuckled and bowed. The winner bought the ale. He scooped up his shirt, but didn’t put it on as they walked toward the food merchants. There were Robertson retainers sitting nearby, but they only cut him and his men stiff glances.

Bhaic gestured his captain forward. The merchant’s eyes lit up as Bhaic counted out the silver. The man snapped his fingers at the serving wenches, and they began to bring out frothy-topped wooden mugs.

Bhaic drew off a long swallow and grinned. The men surrounding him raised their tankards high, toasting him before they tasted the brew.

But he lost focus, his gaze settling on the cloud of blond hair floating around the shoulders of Ailis Robertson. There was a happy smile on her lips as she spun around and around in a dance. She laughed when she reached the end of the row and picked up her skirts to run back to the beginning of the set.

“Now there is something interesting,” Symon remarked as he stood beside Bhaic. “Is nae that yer wife?”

“Maybe.”

Symon cut him a somber look. “Marriage is nae one of those things ye say maybe about.”

“In this case, it’s true.”

Symon drew off another sip of ale. “I suppose that accounts for why Lye Rob Gordon is dancing with her so openly, and her with her hair down. So a wedding but no’ a bedding? Was that the way of it? And ye’re happy to have it known by one and all?”

Bhaic felt his body stiffen. There was more than one man looking at him. The news of his wedding had traveled fast. People gathering around the dancers, pointing at Ailis and her unbound hair.

A tradition that only applied to maidens.

It was a public declaration of the truth of their union. Lye Rob Grant was making a bold statement by dancing with her for all to see. Ailis had on a different dress today, one that left no doubt she was a woman. It had a square neckline, and her plump breasts were clearly on display. Lye Rob looked at them often, reaching out to cup her slim waist every time the steps of the dance allowed him. Bhaic felt his nostrils flare, a surge of possessiveness filling him.

She belonged to him.

It wasn’t about facts or words spoken in a holy place. It was a feeling rooted deep inside him, that place where he still recalled what she smelled and tasted like. A recognition that had taken root in the darkest hours of the night, when she had shattered his control like he was an untried lad.

Lye Rob pulled her close and tried to kiss her.

Bhaic abandoned his ale and went after what he truly craved.

* * *

Ailis laughed and shook her head.

“Do nae leave me now, lass!” Lye Rob pleaded.

She shook her head again, her heart racing too fast for her to draw enough breath to answer him. She backed away from the couples dancing, lifting her chin so the breeze might cool her neck. She did not want his kiss.

It was disappointing, because she wanted to find a man who stirred her the way Bhaic had. But it was clear it wasn’t Lye Rob. He was fun to dance with, and his brown eyes were warm, but they did not excite her.

Not like Bhaic.

She turned around, and her skirts spun up. Cool air teased her ankles and calves before the fabric settled.

“Are ye enjoying putting the horns of a cuckold on me head?”

She stared at Bhaic in stunned silence, wondering if she’d conjured him with her daydreaming. But the men at his back confirmed that she was not locked in another memory of their wedding night. “I’m nae doing anything of the sort.”

He snorted and reached out to finger her hair. She jumped, the single touch setting off a reaction that rippled throughout her entire body.

“Unbound hair is the right of a maiden.”

The truth of his words rolled through her, stunning her at just how foolishly she’d betrayed the facts of her unconsummated vows.

“It’s so nice of ye to make sure everyone knows.” He jerked his head to get her to look beyond him. People were standing three and four deep, many of them whispering as they looked at her.

“She was dancing with me,” Lye Rob interrupted.

Bhaic turned on him with a soft growl. “Unless ye’re a fool, ye know she’s wed to me.”

Her temper flared up, the public declaration feeling like a collar going around her neck. Perhaps she hadn’t made as clean an escape as she’d thought.

“Enough bickering,” she admonished. “’Tis May Day. Everyone is dancing.”

Bhaic was crowding Lye Rob, towering over the other man by at least a foot. Somehow, she’d missed the fact that Bhaic was bare chested.

That was a sin, to be sure.

One ye enjoy…

The man was sculpted to perfection. She’d felt the ridges of muscles on her wedding night, but seeing them let loose a whole different surge of excitement. This time, her nipples puckered behind her stays, longing for the chance to be pressed against his bare skin.

It was a red-hot craving, one that felt worse than any hunger she’d ever endured.

“There is little point in bickering,” she said.

He turned to face her. “Aye, enough is right, Ailis.”

He captured her hips and pulled her forward. She ran into his chest, raising her hands out of instinct to break her collision with him. He leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers, running one hand up her back to capture her head and hold her still.

The kiss was ravishing. It bore little resemblance to the tender ones he’d given her before. This time he demanded, and her will crumbled beneath the hard motions of his mouth. This was the kiss she’d truly wanted.

The crowd watching them cheered, the men roaring with approval.

Bhaic lifted his head, and she glimpsed his pleased expression right before he tossed her up and over his shoulder.

She squealed, her skirts flying as she kicked, but the crowd applauded and cheered him on.

“Put me down!”

He smacked her bottom instead.

A bolt of hot need pierced her in response. Her cheeks flamed, making her grateful no one could see her face. The sounds of the music diminished into the distance as he climbed into the forest that surrounded the crossroads.

He tossed her down the moment they were hidden from the fair.

She’d forgotten how mesmerizing he was. She wished she might forget again. But he was huge, and for some reason, she found his dark hair extremely appealing. He was a beast.

He was also virile…

“Perhaps it was a mistake to leave ye a virgin.”

Her temper sizzled, and she propped her hands on her hips. “What happened to yer notion that I was in agreement with the earl’s plot? I would think ye would be pleased to see me making it plain that I have no claim on ye. Do ye no’ feel liberated?”

Her argument hit a soft spot. He paused, his eyes narrowing.

“It does nae please me to see ye dancing with Lye Rob Gordon.”

“Since ye made it plain ye want naught to do with me, I’ll dance with whoever I please,” she informed him.

Her heart was beating fast, and he looked down at her breasts as they heaved. “Lye Rob wanted something to do with ye alright, and it had a great deal to do with the tempting display ye’ve made of yer breasts.”

His possessiveness irritated her. She felt as though he was trying to put a bridle on her, and she was not going to submit. “Ye are the one who noticed I was old enough for marriage. Ye should begin the annulment, nae spend yer time harassing me. Since ye do nae want to be me husband, ye have no right to dictate how I behave.”

He locked gazes with her. “And what do ye think the good earl will think of me annulling our union this soon, my sweet Ailis?”

“I am nae yer sweet.”

But she hadn’t really thought about what would happen when the earl found out she was back beneath her father’s roof.

“I asked ye to stay.” His tone had deepened, hinting at his true feelings.

She lowered her arms, no longer feeling the need to face off with him. “Ye did, but ye spent far more time accusing me of plotting to chain ye to me.”

His lips curled up, flashing his white teeth. “So, ye are here to prove ye can get a man on yer own?”

She didn’t care for how right he was. “Ye do nae need to know me private feelings, Bhaic MacPherson. Men are no’ the only ones with pride. I would like to think I could do better than having a man forced to wed me.”

He chuckled, surprising her as his eyes danced with merriment.

“We’re more alike than I would have thought.” There was something flickering in his eyes, which looked a lot like understanding. “Me pride was stinging the night of our wedding, no mistake. I said a few things I should nae have.”

A sharp giggle interrupted them, coming through the trees. A moment later, a girl appeared. She was looking back over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with mischief and her bodice loose, allowing her breasts to fall and bounce with her motions. A man chased after her, drawing up when he saw Bhaic. He let out a whistle, and the girl turned to see them in front of her. She flashed them a saucy smile before diving off into the forest with her companion on her heels.

Ailis’s cheeks flamed. “Sweet Christ, everyone is going to think ye carried me off to…to…”

“To ravish ye?” he supplied with a mocking grin.

She propped her hands on her hips again. “Ye have no right! I am nae your wife.”

The words were spoken before she realized she was challenging him. She witnessed it flash through his blue eyes before his lips thinned.

“Do nae let yer pride become involved again.”

He shook his head. “Ye are something worth being proud of, Ailis.” His gaze lowered to her cleavage. “A woman of character.” His lips suddenly curved into a rakish grin. “Ye’re a fine-looking woman too.”

“And a Robertson.”

His eyes narrowed. “Aye. Ye’re that. Yet, as ye brought to my attention, yer blood has advantages.”

There was a promise in his tone now, one that made her shiver. The urge to flee filled her again, but her pride rebelled. She didn’t want him to label her a coward.

If she ran, there would be no doubt she was scared of him.

She had to admit to being curious as to what might happen if she stayed.

But that left her facing him, watching him move closer, each step increasing the intensity of the moment. All of her senses felt keener, sharper. Time itself felt frozen, the seconds feeling like hours in which she was able to notice all the tiny details she might have normally missed.

He reached out and stroked her cheek. It was such a simple touch, but her senses were so heightened, she wasn’t sure she could have endured anything else. The moment his skin connected with hers, sensation exploded inside her. She jumped, unable to contain it all.

“As I said, Ailis, there is passion between us.” He wasn’t mocking her any longer. His tone was deep and almost compassionate. It sounded as if he were just as bewildered as she.

He reached back and slid his hand along the side of her jaw. Her breath caught as delight spread across her skin. She was mesmerized, intoxicated by him. He didn’t stop until he’d threaded his fingers into her hair. The gentleness of the touch transformed into a firm hold that kept her steady as he took the last step between them.

“Ye smell sweet.” He didn’t kiss her, but leaned down and inhaled her scent. “Touch me, Ailis. I see the desire in yer eyes.”

He’d stopped with just inches between them. Her breath was rapid, drawing in the scent of his skin as she felt his body heat teasing the bare skin of her chest. Temptation was drawing her in.

She was reaching for him before she could think about it. His words rang in her ears, combining with the need churning inside her. His skin was smooth, beckoning her.

He drew in a sharp breath when she touched him. The response stunned her but quickly transformed into confidence.

She wielded the same power over him.

It was a prideful thought, but one that filled her with boldness. She flattened her hands against his chest, unleashing a surge of excitement inside herself.

It was astonishing and exhilarating.

“Look at me.” His tone was harder, more demanding.

She lifted her chin, locking gazes with him, and felt as though he could see right into her soul.

“Now kiss me.”

“Me?” Her tone was so breathless, she wasn’t sure he heard her.

But he did, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Aye.” He massaged her head, sending little ripples of delight across her scalp. “Kiss me. Reach for what ye crave, Ailis.”

She hesitated, not sure if she wanted to crave him. It was a demanding word, but it suited the feelings swirling inside her too well. She slid her hands up his chest, savoring the feel of his skin beneath her palms and fingertips. Kissing him was harder than she’d thought it might be. She’d kissed him back, but now, she had to stretch up, and even on her toes she wasn’t tall enough. So she slid her hands along the strong column of his neck and gently pulled him toward her.

He bent down, allowing her to press her lips against his. She trembled, the sensations overwhelming. She felt as if she were spinning around, but didn’t really care if she dropped to the ground in a dead faint.

All that mattered was kissing him.

She craved the taste of his mouth and moved her lips against his. Her grip wasn’t firm enough, so she reached up to lock her fingers behind his neck, trying to secure him, control him.

He groaned, using his hands to tilt her head so their lips met together more completely. He was losing patience, his mouth beginning to move against hers. But she wanted to kiss him. The urge pounded through her, overriding everything else.

She tried to remember how he’d kissed her, moving her lips in what she thought was the right way. She increased the pressure and opened her mouth.

He growled and took command. There was no missing the moment when he stopped allowing her free rein. The kiss he pressed on her wiped all thoughts aside as delight took over. It didn’t matter how they kissed, only that they did. She felt as though she might perish if she didn’t get a deeper taste of him.

He teased her lips, tasting them before sweeping across her lower lip with the tip of his tongue. She shivered again, the touch more intimate than anything she’d ever experienced. It set off a throbbing between the folds of her sex.

She pulled back, startled by the hunger gnawing at her insides. She understood with shocking clarity that she wanted him deep inside her. So carnal. So blunt.

“Do nae be alarmed, I’ll nae ravish ye, Ailis.”

“Maybe that’s what I want.” She snapped her mouth shut when she realized she’d spoken aloud. “I did nae mean that!”

He cupped her chin and made her look into his eyes. They were ablaze with hunger, mirroring the yearning burning inside her.

“Ye did,” he assured her. “Ye simply do nae know how to enjoy it yet.”

He scooped her up, stunning her with his strength. He controlled it so well, it was simple to forget how strong he was.

That knowledge made her tremble. He lowered her to the forest floor, the scent of grass rising up, wrapping her in the moment of new growth.

“It is going to be me pleasure to teach ye, Ailis.”

“But…the annulment…”

He settled beside her and bent one of his knees so he might place it over her thigh. She thrust her hands out to keep him back, but once again, the feeling of his firm chest distracted her from everything else.

It simply felt so right. The sensation was intoxicating.

“Are ye enjoying me touch?”

He leaned down and kissed her throat, the soft pressing of his lips taking her further into bliss. Her eyelids fluttered shut as she stretched her chin up to expose more of her neck.

“Honestly, lass, ye do nae want me to stop any more than I want to.” His words were a whisper against her ear.

It was so tempting to just let him do as he pleased.

It felt so good.

Nothing had ever felt so intense before.

The knot of her bodice loosened. She opened her eyes, but he’d pulled the lace through the first few eyelets before she turned to look at his face.

His expression sent a shudder through her.

“Ye are more than comely, lass.”

She blushed.

His lips curved into a possessive grin. It was presumptuous, but it also made her feel attractive in a way she never had before.

He pulled the lace through a few more eyelets, until he could open her bodice. She was in her simplest dress, one that didn’t have a set of long stays behind the bodice. The only thing shielding her breasts was the thin linen of her chemise. Excitement twisted through her. She felt pinned to the spot, caught in the moment as she waited to see what he’d do next.

What was the next step? She wanted to know.

Now.

“Ye have no doubt haunted the dreams of more than one man.” He cupped one breast through her chemise, sending a bolt of excitement into her core.

She twisted, the sensation too great. “No…no one thinks about…me…parts.”

She was trying to think, because it gave her stability. Bhaic brushed his thumb across her nipple and shattered every last bit of conscious thought she had.

“I do,” he whispered next to her ear. “I think about ye more than I like. I have never been jealous of a man like I was just now of Lye Rob.”

He lifted his head and let her see his eyes. They were full of possessiveness.

“I was just dancing.”

Bhaic slid his hand beneath her chemise, his fingertips teasing the skin between her breasts and setting off an ache to be touched in both mounds.

“Nae, lass, he was getting close to ye because he wanted to do exactly what I am doing now.” He cupped her breast, closing his fingers around one tender mound as victory shown in his expression.

“I would nae have let him…touch me.”

He massaged the globe of her breast, setting off a renewed throbbing at the top of her sex. It was harder now, more insistent. Keeping her thighs together felt awkward and uncomfortable, so she let herself relax.

“But ye’ll welcome me.”

“I—”

He didn’t wait for her to finish. Bhaic leaned down and licked her nipple. It had already puckered but drew tighter as she arched up to offer it to him. A soft moan escaped her lips, the sound renewing the blush stinging her cheeks.

“It gets better, lass.”

He cupped her breast, holding the soft mound still before closing his lips around the puckered tip.

She cried out this time, the heat from his mouth flowing down to the apex of her thighs. Something was throbbing incessantly, making her lift her hips in a quest.

He sucked harder on the point and slid his other hand across her belly. Her passage gave a desperate twist as she reached for him and held him to her breast. She wasn’t close enough. Wasn’t pressed against him tightly enough.

Her damned dress was too heavy against her legs.

“So sweet…” He kissed his way to her other breast and teased her with soft licks along its side before he claimed the nipple. She arched and lifted her hips. He slid his hand lower across her belly, grabbing a handful of her skirts and jerking it up.

She sighed as cool air reached her legs. It was invigorating, and she reached for him, no longer content to just be touched. She wanted to stroke him too.

Ailis flattened a foot on the ground and used her leg to push her body up. She rolled into him, pushing him back as she sought out one of his flat nipples. She licked it, purring as she tasted a faint salty tang left behind from his sweat.

He rolled back, letting her have her way, and it filled her with confidence.

“That’s it, lass, ravish me in return.”

“I will.”

She wasn’t sure why she sounded so bold. She kissed one of the ridges on his chest and then another. He gathered up her hair when it settled around them and pulled it out of her way. Teasing motions were no longer enough.

He slid his hand along her thigh, lifting her skirts higher. She was too hot, but the contact between their flesh felt perfect.

She reached for his neck, purring as she detected the steady throb of his pulse beneath the soft skin. He was strength incarnate, yet smooth and soft too.

It felt as though she was made to fit against him. She wanted to melt until she fused with him completely.

Her skirt went flying above her waist. One powerful motion of his wrist had sent it up to bare her lower body.

She gasped, startled by the sense of vulnerability sweeping through her. It conflicted with the sweet intoxication holding her hostage.

Bhaic didn’t let her senses recover. He cupped the side of her face and leaned over her, the heat from his body pushing aside her modesty. He kissed her, restoring her to the perfection of the moment. She pushed her hands through his hair, delighting in the feeling of the threads sliding between her fingers. There were so many tiny details she had never thought might be so enjoyable. Little things she did every day, but when Bhaic did them, sensation surged through her. She was sinking deeper and eager to experience more.

Bhaic didn’t disappoint her. He settled his hand on her thigh again, his grip possessive but filling her with a sense of satisfaction.

It also unleashed a sense of anticipation that left her breathless.

Remaining still was impossible. She reached for him, boldly seeking out what she craved. His thighs were just as hard as his chest, the muscles clearly defined and covered in more smooth, hot skin.

“I swear I’ve never enjoyed a woman’s hands on me like I do yers.”

The admission was torn from him in a harsh tone. She detected the protest from his pride and found companionship in it.

At least she was not alone in the madness.

She slid her hand higher, seeking what she’d only had a teasing glimpse of on their wedding night. She was frustrated by that fact, irritated that she didn’t yet understand completely what it was she craved.

She was empty and wanted to know what he had to fill her.

Someone cleared their throat.

Someone male.

Bhaic growled but gathered up her chemise and covered her breasts while shielding her with his body.

“Go to hell, Symon.”

The tone of his voice cut through the intoxication dimming her wits. It was like waking up from a dream, and her body protested the return to reality. She wasn’t ready to come back yet.

“I figured ye might say something like that.”

Ailis looked past Bhaic to see a huge man wearing the Grant colors in his kilt. He was looking away from them, but her cheeks burned with shame all the same. She scrambled to push her skirts down and sit up.

“Someone better be dying,” Bhaic warned as he pushed to his feet with remarkable ease. He reached down to hook her upper arm and lift her.

The man’s strength was amazing.

“So who’s dying?” Bhaic demanded, his frustration plain.

“Yer father and hers,” Symon responded as he turned to face them. “It seems they are trying to kill each other over the pair of ye disappearing into the woods for a tryst.”

“We were nae—” She stopped when Symon’s gaze lowered to her open bodice. Bhaic reached out and cupped her shoulder to turn her away from his friend’s view.

“Cover yerself, Ailis, and do nae deny what is plain.”

She grasped the ends of the tie that had closed her bodice and shot Bhaic a hard look.

But what she saw stopped her. His blue eyes were lit with a hunger that fascinated her almost as much as it frightened her.

She turned around before he read the fear on her face. He was so confident, so full of determination, she didn’t want him to witness her reaction.

She could not give him that power over her.

But her hands shook as she tried to thread the lace through the eyelets to close her bodice. The fact that both men were waiting while she adjusted her breasts sent her temper sizzling.

Her breasts were no man’s concern.

But ye enjoyed what Bhaic did with them, sure enough.

She yanked on the lace and tied a firm knot. It took another few moments for her to adjust herself before she was fit to turn around.

Symon’s topaz eyes were brimming with amusement when she met them.

Bhaic slapped him on the shoulder. “Now what was the urgent need that sent ye after us?”

“Well now, there are urgent needs and urgent needs, it would seem.”

Bhaic growled, earning a smirk from Symon. But the man pointed at the fair they’d left behind. “Yer father claims she enticed ye into the woods—”

“I did nae—” Ailis said.

Bhaic reached out and curled a hand around her face to cover her mouth. In one swift motion she was trapped against his side, his fingers smothering her retort.

Symon nearly choked on his laughter. Ailis lifted her foot and kicked him in the shin.

He yelped and jumped back, out of her range.

“Feisty,” Symon observed before shrugging. “And her father is demanding satisfaction for the slight of labeling his daughter a harlot. The pair of goats are fixing to ruin May Day with a melee.”

Ailis bent her knees and twisted free of Bhaic’s hold. “They loathe each other. We have to stop them.”

She grabbed the front of her skirts and began running.

“Ailis!”

She froze, Bhaic’s tone ringing with authority. It sent a shiver down her back—she understood now just what gave him the fierce reputation she’d heard about near the hearth during the winter months.

“Ye’ll stay away from the fighting.” He was shrugging into his doublet.

He passed by her, moving with purpose toward the edge of the forest. The longer length of his kilt in the back swayed with his motions as Symon joined him, forming a wall she was stuck behind. Their longer strides made her run to keep up.

But the quiet beyond the forest made her double her efforts.

The musicians had stopped playing, some of the merchants quickly pulled their wares off the counters of their booths. Women were herding the children away from the massing members of her clan and the MacPhersons.

The Grants and Gordons were doing their best to keep the two separated, but the expressions of her clansmen warned her that their tempers were short.

And not likely to last much longer.

Her father pointed his finger at Laird MacPherson. “Me daughter is pure! Ye’ll be taking back that insult, or I’ll beat it out of ye!”

Shamus MacPherson tossed his head back and laughed, the men behind him following their laird’s example. “Everyone saw yer daughter dancing with Lye Rob, making sure he got a good look at her ankles! Ye can nae expect me son to ignore a free tumble!”

“Ailis Robertson is me wife!”

Both lairds turned to see who was shouting. Shamus MacPherson’s face darkened when he found himself facing his son.

“And it’s May Day, the time for dancing on the green,” Bhaic said.

Liam Robertson wasn’t going to be satisfied with such an explanation. He tried to push past the Gordon retainer holding him back from Shamus MacPherson. The man let him through but closed the gap quickly to keep the Robertson captains from following their laird.

“I never agreed to this marriage!” He stormed up to Shamus and poked him in the chest. “Me daughter is too good for the likes of a MacPherson! I won’t have it!”

“But me son has already had her, and did nae see fit to keep her!” Shamus shouted. “I’ll nae stand for her weaving her spell over him because she can do no better!”

“Ye bastard!”

“Enough!” Bhaic shouldered his way between the lairds, Symon joining him. “The lass is nae part of this feud, Father.”

He tempered his tone, but his father still took offense. “She’s a Robertson!”

“I know it well, but there is a measure of wisdom in the Earl of Morton’s idea to end this fighting.”

Neither laird was willing to soften their stance, but the men behind them found it to his liking. Expressions lightened, and dirks were replaced in the tops of boots with looks of relief.

Her father glared at Bhaic. “Ye sent me girl back to me. The union is dissolved by yer actions. Ailis? We are heading home!”

It felt as if someone had stuck a dirk through her.

It shouldn’t have. Robertson Castle was her home, and she adored it, but Bhaic’s silence stung her pride and something deeper. Something she never would have considered ever feeling for a MacPherson.

But she refused to show it. If Bhaic was going to watch her leave, she would not grant him any last looks over her shoulder.

She reached down and grabbed her dress so she wouldn’t step on it. Bhaic grasped a handful of the back of her skirt and pulled her to a stop.

“I was giving her time to adjust to our union,” Bhaic said. “The earl sprang it upon us so suddenly, I thought to spare ye and her a harsh parting.”

Liam shook with rage. “Is that so?”

Bhaic nodded curtly a single time.

Her father raised his finger into the air. “Then why did yer father call me daughter a harlot? Why does yer own sire know naught of yer plan to claim yer bride?” he shouted. “Because a MacPherson does nae know how to speak the truth! They are born with lies on their lips!”

“Father!” Ailis ducked around Bhaic and pushed her father away from Shamus MacPherson. “Yer words are too harsh.”

Her sire looked at her as if she’d gone insane.

“Too harsh?” Liam demanded. “They are…MacPhersons!”

She was suddenly bearing the weight of all her clansmen. There were more than two hundred burly Highlanders leaning in to hear for themselves what she would say. The women farther up the hill edged closer and cupped their hands behind their ears. Whatever she said, it would be branded upon her forehead for the rest of her life. If blood flowed in response, it would stain her hands for certain.

She swallowed and lifted her chin.

“No child is born hating.” Brows lowered among her kin, their lips pressing into hard lines. “I detest the way the earl made his point, but he was right about one thing, we’ve all learned to hate one another over something that was done generations ago.” She lowered her voice. “Maybe it’s time to look to what sort of future we can build if we are nae consumed with the past.”

“How dare ye say such a thing!”

The two lairds had spoken simultaneously, and were now stunned into silence. They stared at each other, sticking out their chests, but neither could take back what he’d spoken. Her father started to stroke his beard, until he realized Shamus MacPherson was doing the same.

Neither was happy about having anything in common with the other, but they could not deny it.

“How nice to know ye both agree.” Symon Grant raised his voice so it might be heard by all those straining to hear. “I’ll admit that’s a surprise, but one I’m happy to witness.”

“Mind yer tone, Grant,” Shamus snarled. “Ye are too newly weaned from yer mother’s breast to be thinking ye can use that sort of voice with me.”

Symon reached up and tugged on the corner of his bonnet. Shamus grumbled, but turned and began conversing with his captains.

The tension dissipated, the men watching them relaxing.

Everyone except for her.

Her father’s captain had a hand on Liam’s shoulder and was talking quietly in his ear. Her father’s lips were pressed into a hard line, but she could see him beginning to relent.

That made her throat go dry.

It made sense, and would benefit all of the men and women watching, but it would mean she had to be Bhaic MacPherson’s wife.

She couldn’t do it.

The thought chilled her, sending her back, away from the men deciding her future. It was for all the right reasons, yet it horrified her.

Do nae be so selfish!

She had to maintain control, but it felt as though the tighter she closed her resolve around her emotions, the more cracks they found to escape through. The very fabric of her life was shredding, leaving her exposed and unprotected against the unknown.

Shamus MacPherson suddenly lifted his hand, and every man wearing his colors went silent. Her father looked at him, and the Robertsons followed their laird’s lead.

“I was…overly harsh…in me comments about yer daughter’s dancing.”

Shamus looked as if the words had taken every bit of strength he could muster. He drew in a huge breath when he was done, and wiped his forehead on his sleeve.

Ailis felt her jaw drop. She was frozen in silence as her father stiffened, looking as though he was holding his breath. His face turned red before he gasped and replied, “Yer clansmen are nae born with lies on their lips.”

The captain behind Shamus patted his laird on the shoulder, increasing his strength until there was a soft “thud” every time his hand landed on the older man’s back.

“I’m getting to it,” Shamus snapped and sent his captain a hard look before picking up his feet and stomping toward Liam with his hand extended.

Her father made him wait. His own captains were leaning into him, pressing him forward. Liam Robertson held out until he stumbled forward beneath their weight. He ended up facing Shamus and clasped his wrist.

The men watching let out a cheer. It was deafening, and echoed by the women looking on from afar. There was suddenly music, pipers sounding as the fair resumed with a fervor. The merchants applauded as her father roared, “I need me a drink, lads! And something to wash it down with!”

Ailis was sure she needed one more than anyone else.