Chapter 22
Chapter 22
Lachann knew better.
But he could not help himself.
Anna looked at him dubiously. “Raise my ... ?”
“You’ll need to strap the knife to your leg,” he said. “Up high or below the knee like mine—whichever works best for you.”
He reached into his pack for a knife sheath and a garter, then knelt before her. She was still hesitating. “You can’t wear it on your belt in full sight, now, can you?”
“N-no. You’re right. I’ll need to surprise him.”
She took hold of her skirt and lifted it to her knees. Lachann forced himself to ignore the shapely limb before him and wrapped the garter just below her knee.
He heard her breath catch and looked up at her. Gesu, but she was beautiful. And the way her teeth pulled at her lower lip was beyond alluring. Lachann slid his hand up past her knee and rose to his feet. He put one arm ’round her waist.
“Anna.” He pulled her against him and took her mouth in a searing kiss. Sliding his hand down to her hip, he pulled her against his arousal.
Raw sensation shot through him when her body melted against him. Her hands slid up his chest, then ’round to the nape of his neck, and Lachann deepened their kiss.
He parted her lips and slid his tongue inside, relishing the heat of her mouth. She made a low, breathless sound and tipped her head to give him greater access.
Lachann feasted on her as he cupped her breast in one hand. He knew that slight touch wasn’t enough when he felt her shudder against him. They both needed more.
Breaking their kiss, he pulled open the laces of her bodice and moved the cloth aside. “You are so very bonny, Anna MacIver ...” She arched against him and Lachann lowered his head to take one hardened nipple into his mouth. He skimmed his hand up her leg, then placed her foot on the low mattress near the fireplace. He drew her skirt up behind her until he touched the bare skin of her bottom.
He slid his hand into the cleft....
Anna moved against him, increasing the contact. She was hot and damp, and so very ready for him.
Lachann was as hard as his claymore and aching for her touch. “Anna ...”
He took one of her hands and placed it on his burgeoning erection. Her touch was tentative, but as she ran her hand along his hard length she trembled even as she tightened her grasp.
“Aye, lass. That’s it.”
Lachann kissed her again, his tongue mating with hers as he laid her down on the bed and partially covered her with his body.
He slipped the hand under her skirt higher and touched the sensitive flesh between her legs.
She gasped and closed her legs against his hand.
“Anna, let me show you ...” He used his thumb to trace a circle ’round the sensitive nub and slipped one finger inside her. Ach, she was so very tight, and Lachann was desperate to slide into her.
“Oh!” she cried. Her body jerked, the muscles of her legs tightening as she grabbed hold of his shoulders and pulled him down to her.
Her reaction to his touch was as explosive as the gunfire going on outside.
Lachann shoved his plaid aside, beyond ready to—
Gesu. Gunfire?
His arms shook. Desire, hot and pulsing, shot through his veins. He was on the verge of the most intense moment—
Another shot rang out, then shouts.
Lachann pushed up and off the bed. Somebody was shooting inside the castle walls!
His responsibility was clear, and yet...
“Lachann?”
Gesu,but he wanted her. Her eyes were hazy with passion ... as well as confusion as he pulled away, righting his clothes.
“Anna ... I am sorry ...”
He dashed from the cottage, heading for the courtyard, where the sound of the gunshots had come from.
For no one on the isle—no one—had been issued a firearm.
Anna could not escape the cottage fast enough. She laced her bodice and grabbed a dirk, jamming it into the garter at her knee.
She did not want to see Lachann just now, did not want to run into him while he dealt with whoever was shooting in the courtyard. She took the overgrown path to the chapel and pried open the rusty gate in the castle wall behind it. Then she climbed down the rough rocks that formed the caves, as well as a natural staircase that led to the beach below.
Herregud!Her thoughts were muddled, but she knew there was naught to compare with what had just happened to her. Lachann’s touch had taken away her will and her common sense, and replaced it with some kind of lunacy.
She thanked the heavens the seduction had gone no further.
Anna reached the sandy beach and dropped to her knees, holding her stomach as tears welled in her eyes. She could never allow anything like that to happen again.
As incredible as it had been.
She got to her feet and started running toward the village, feeling a little desperate, and more than a little bit foolish. Only a madwoman would dally with the man who would become her sister’s husband.
Only a fool would leave her heart unguarded with such a man.
She’d had her doubts before, but now ’twas certain she could not stay at Kilgorra Keep and continue to serve Catrìona and her new husband after they married. She couldn’t bear to attend him at meals or when he stopped for an informal breakfast in the kitchen; couldn’t pretend that naught had passed between them.
’Twas not possible to feign an indifference she did not feel.
Worst of all would be knowing Lachann and Catrìona shared the pleasures of his bed, and having to watch her stepsister grow large and round with his bairns.
Thinking of those bairns trapped the breath inside Anna’s lungs. She did not want to care, but ’twas all too clear that she did. Very much.
She arrived at the pier and saw that the Saoibhreas was anchored and its men were carrying crates of Kilgorra whiskey up the gangway. Well, at least something was going right. The whiskey trade kept Kilgorra a prosperous isle.
A young crewman who could not have been more than twelve or thirteen years of age started on his way up the path to the village. The mad idea she’d entertained in passing yesterday struck her once again, and Anna ran to catch up with him.
“Hello!” she called, and the lad stopped and turned to wait for her.
“Might I ask you a question?” she asked when she reached him.
“Aye?”
“Does your ship ever take on passengers?”
“Ach, nay,” the lad replied, apparently appalled by the question.
“What if she worked for her passage?”
“She? A woman?” His already pale face went white at the very idea. He shook his head vigorously. “Nay. The captain allows no women aboard the Saoibhreas.”
Anna glanced back at the hull of the ship. Mayhap she could sneak onboard and hide somewhere inside.
Aye. She might. But not with Kyla and Douglas.
And she did not know where the Saoibhreas was headed. “Ach, well,” she said to the lad. “I only thought I’d ask.”
He nodded absently, then started to cough, covering his mouth with his hand.
“Are you all right?” she asked.
“Aye. ’Tis naught but a wee catarrh,” he replied, though he frowned when he swallowed thickly, wincing as he did so. It seemed to Anna he was sicker than he wanted to let on. Mayhap ’twas best that she did not get on that ship—especially with Kyla and Douglas—if there was sickness aboard.
“Well,” Anna said, “if you need a tonic for it, our healer is well known for her remedies. She is the best in the isles.”
He gave a nod, then continued on his way to the public house, where the rest of his shipmates might well have stopped before sailing out again.
Anna took the path to Kyla’s cottage, acutely conscious of the knife strapped to her leg. Could she use it on Birk? She was fairly certain he would stay away at least another day. After that, Kyla and her husband would reconcile.
’Twas something Anna had never understood before—the bond of belonging.
Aye,she thought, coming to her senses. And beatings from a man who was supposed to protect and care for her.
Lachann knew he should have been grateful for the interruption at the cottage, but his body screamed for release even as he ran in the direction of the gunfire. He had to put the interlude with Anna in perspective. It had been a mistake.
A liaison with a well-loved serving maid could do naught to enhance his credibility on Kilgorra. Which did not alter the fact that he wanted her with a passion that was unmatched in his memory.
As he approached the back of the blacksmith’s shop, it seemed every Kilgorran who’d come to the castle to train was heading in the same direction. He pushed his way through the group of men to where Cullen Macauley was standing with Catrìona, pistol in hand.
“What in hell is going on here?” Lachann demanded. “Is that one of my pistols?”
Grinning, Macauley shrugged.
Catrìona smiled sweetly at Lachann. “Cullen was just demonstrating his shooting skills, Lachann.”
Lachann took the pistol from the bastard’s hand and gave it to the closest Braemore man. “See that the weapons—all of them—are locked inside the barracks when we’re not using them for training, Malcolm.”
He faced Cullen and Catrìona, his anger at Macauley’s stupidity palpable. “You think ’tis acceptable to play at target practice when you know full well that anyone might walk into the line of fire? We had a near disaster yesterday from one man’s negligence.”
“Surely you do not mean—”
“Aye, I do,” Lachann snapped at Catrìona. “Davy MacDonall was nearly killed because Mungo Ramsay did not unload and put away a cart loaded with gunpowder and cannon balls. I’ll have no more accidents here.”
Catrìona looked as though she would shoot him a retort, but apparently she thought better of it and closed her mouth. Pointedly ignoring Lachann, she took Macauley’s arm and led him away from the crowd. “Come along, Cullen. I thought your shooting was quite impressive.”
The men returned to the practice area in the courtyard, and Lachann turned to Kieran. “How did Macauley get his hands on that gun?”
“He might have taken it while our men were unloading the supplies right after we arrived,” Kieran replied.
Lachann muttered a low curse. “From now on, I want the weapons locked in the barracks, and the gunpowder in one of the empty buildings nearby,” he said. “No one is to have access without our permission.”
“Aye. I’ll see to it.”
Lachann glanced at the path to the cottage and wondered if Anna was still there. He’d left her abruptly, even rudely.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Gesu. The lass did not deserve the kind of treatment he’d given her.
“Lachann,” Duncan said, tipping his head in the direction of Catrìona and Macauley. “This does not bode well.”
Lachann did not know how to answer. No, it did not bode well, but neither did a marriage between himself and Catrìona. He did not want a woman who stood on the wrong side of everything that made any sense.
Lachann rubbed the back of his head. “Do you know Catrìona did not bother to go down to the MacDonalls’ cottage yesterday to see how Davy fared?”
“She didn’t?”
Lachann walked with Duncan toward the courtyard, ignoring the powerful draw to return to the old cottage. He knew how unlikely ’twas that Anna would be there waiting for him.
Still, the allure of finding her, wherever she might be—of seeing her now and finishing what he’d begun—was strong.
“Lachann ...” Duncan glanced toward Catrìona’s direction. “You know your wealth alone will not be enough to secure the lairdship.”
“Do not worry, Duncan.” Lachann tightened his belt ’round his waist. “When it comes down to it, ’tis up to her father.”
“Aye, but—”
“He must know he needs our protection.”
“One would think so.”
“The old man gave me leave to make what changes I deem necessary on the isle,” Lachann said. “I take that as a positive sign.”
“Aye, but he’s likely still thinking of you as his daughter’s betrothed.”
“Mayhap,” Lachann said. “So I’m going to make myself indispensable in every way.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to the distillery to see what other mischief Macauley is up to.” Lachann told himself ’twould be highly impractical to go searching for Anna in the keep. She had her chores to perform, and he had duties as well.
Besides, Anna MacIver was a complication he could not afford.