The Highlander's Forbidden Bride Read online

  Carissa would not disrobe in front of any of them, and so she waited for the servants to leave. When they finally did, and Addie was just about to, she turned to her and asked, “You treat me so kindly, and yet you look at me as if…” Carissa shook her head. “I can’t define it, I just know there is something there you wish to say, and I prefer you say it.”

  “You are a puzzle to me, dear,” Addie said walking over to her. “And I will admit that it is all because Ronan has fallen in love with you. At least he believes it is you he loves. Before that, I would have believed you like your father, heartless and selfish, but if my son thinks otherwise of you, then I must learn for myself what it is he sees that others don’t, or haven’t been allowed to.”

  Carissa raised her head proudly. “I am who you see standing here.”

  Addie smiled. “What we see in front of us isn’t always the truth of things.” Addie laughed. “Take Hagen. He’s a large man, tall and broad who at first glance could frighten the devil out of you and yet—”

  “He is the kindest of souls and his speech more articulate than one would expect,” Carissa finished.

  “So then he isn’t what he appears to be, and I daresay my son saw the same in you.”

  “Ronan hates Carissa,” she said sadly.

  “He doesn’t know Carissa, nor do I,” Addie said. “Therefore, I must get to know you before I am to judge you. And the reason I stare so oddly at you?” She shook her head. “You look startlingly familiar to me and yet I—” She continued shaking her head. “I cannot recall where it is I could have seen you.”

  “I doubt you have seen me anywhere. My father kept me cloistered as much as possible.”

  That got Addie to stop shaking her head and instead laughing. “If you were like most children, you would have found a way to sneak off on your own.”

  Carissa grinned. “I did, and I had the best adventures.”

  “Then you and Ronan have something in common, for he did the same when he was young.”

  “But he had brothers to share it with.”

  “Not all the time,” Addie said. “He often sneaked off on his own, to have his own adventures. He would return and confide his secret endeavors, and I, in turn, would keep them secret.”

  “As you do now with what he has confided to you about me?” Carissa asked.

  Addie nodded. “Why don’t you tell me why you love my son?”

  “You believe I love your son?”

  “At times I catch a glimpse of it in your eyes,” Addie said, “though you try hard to hide it. Tell me how you fell in love with my son.”

  With that Addie began to help Carissa undress, and Carissa didn’t protest. She felt the need to tell this woman, the mother of the man she loved, just how she had so unexpectedly fallen in love with her enemy.

  “He was hurt and frightened,” Carissa began, “and he reached out to me, not knowing who I was, not judging me, simply needing someone to hold on to. I empathized with him since I often felt the same myself. From there it was easy to pretend I wasn’t Mordrac’s daughter, and the more I got to know Ronan, the more my heart went out to him.

  “I was accustomed to demanding, domineering men; never had I known a man to reach out to me in need, to be vulnerable and yet so brave.” Carissa shook her head. “It sounds strange that a needy man could be brave.”

  “As I said, what we see isn’t always what is.”

  “Ronan is like no man I have ever known,” Carissa admitted. “He may have hated Carissa and wanted her dead. But when he did finally capture her, his intentions were to see that she was treated fairly and presented before his laird for judgment. Unlike my father, whose judgment often came swiftly at the end of a sword.”

  Their conversation twisted and turned in many directions, and it wasn’t near to ending by the time Carissa stepped from the bath. But after a preponderance of yawns, Addie insisted she nap.

  Carissa didn’t argue; she felt tired down to her very bones, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

  Addie tucked her in Ronan’s bed, and while Carissa knew she should have protested and returned to her appointed cottage, she was simply too tired. She would nap and be gone before Ronan, or—heaven forbid—Cavan, knew she rested in this bed.

  The last thing she heard as her eyes closed and sleep claimed her was the click of the closing door as Addie took her leave.

  Ronan couldn’t believe that he had three nephews and a niece. The little fellow, the one twin who was his namesake, had a similar nature to his own. And the one named for Ronan’s father, Tavish, was as temperamental as his namesake. And at two years old, the little lads appeared inseparable, one always looking to see where the other was and both enamored of their mother.

  Blythe, Artair and Zia’s daughter, was a little beauty, with a sweet smile that could charm the coldest heart. Over a year old, though with the confidence of one much older, she eagerly climbed onto his lap and into his arms when he reached down for her, and her vibrant green eyes startled, since it seemed that she could see right inside you.

  Then there was Roark, Lachlan and Alyce’s son, who was yet to turn one, though he made himself known with his broad smile that so reminded Ronan of Lachlan. However, he seemed to have his mother’s strategic mind, for his eyes followed everyone, he knew what each was up to, waving frantically at the twins when one crept up on the other, and he was alert to when someone left the room.

  This was his new family, and he hoped with all his heart that Carissa carried his child and that their child could not only join this happy clan but unite enemies.

  Ronan was as disappointed as the children when naptime was declared by the mothers, though when his mother advised him that Carissa was presently napping peacefully in his room after a soothing bath, he hastily took his leave.

  While he could have joined his brothers, who were in Cavan’s solar discussing clan matters, he much preferred to join Carissa. He was well aware of Cavan’s warning about keeping his distance from Carissa, but he was only going to check on her, or so he told himself.

  The door opened with a creak, and he winced, not wanting to wake her. He knew she must be tired, having woken before dawn, then having to deal with his brother and him. It was good she rested, though damned if he didn’t want to rest alongside her.

  He took careful steps over to the bed. She was lying naked on her side beneath the covers, one slim leg resting on top of the blanket, her arm exposed as well, and her lovely breast peeking out from the covers.

  Naturally, he reacted as any man in love would. He grew hard as a rock.

  He warned himself to take his leave, get out of there right away, run if he had to, but get his legs moving. His feet refused to budge. It was as if he were stuck to the floor and his glance stuck on her.

  He ached to make love to her once again. One time just was not enough, he wanted more. He wanted to hold her, kiss her, love her, lose himself in her and hear her moan with the pleasure he brought her.

  His passion spiked even more, and he moaned in discomfort and had to fight to keep himself from stripping naked and rushing to her side. One taste of her had him starving for more, and he was having a difficult time denying himself and her, for he doubted she would turn him down.

  He finally got his feet moving, though not toward the door—the wiser direction. He walked to the bed and stopped next to it, staring down at her. She sighed and turned, the blanket slipping farther off her and fully exposing one breast as she stretched her arm up above her head.

  Her gentle movement also gave a peek at the blond hair that nestled between her legs. It fired his loins even more, more so than if she had lain fully exposed, since the slight peek tempted and teased him beyond reason.

  He should pay heed to his brother’s command and allow Carissa and him time to learn more about each other. They needed to reach a reasonable solution to their dilemma, and being intimate right now would not be the wisest thing. He couldn’t be selfish and think only of himself. H
e had to think of Carissa and what his self-indulgent actions would do to her.

  If she didn’t deny him, as he knew she wouldn’t, it would appear to his brother that she was having her way of things, winning the battle Cavan believed she waged. It was only proving to his brother, and he supposed to himself, that she played no ruse, that her nature was of hope, not cruelty.

  He smiled. He might not be able to make love to her, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t, if only briefly, hold her. He pulled the blanket over her, a shield against her nakedness and his desire, and stretched out on his side beside her.

  Chapter 29

  Ronan nestled his face in her hair, a hint of lavender teasing his senses as the soft, silky curls tickled his face. He rested his arm across her waist though he kept his hand from touching her, afraid that if his fingers simply brushed her flesh, he would want more. And he did not intend for his raging desire to interfere with the pleasure of holding her close.

  She turned around and snuggled up against him as she had done so many times when they were at the cottage. His arms closed around her instinctively. When had he begun to protect her? When had he begun to realize that she belonged in his arms? When had he realized that Carissa was the woman he loved?

  “It doesn’t matter,” he whispered. “I love you.”

  As if she heard, she rubbed her cheek over his heart, then rested firmly against it. Her simple action made him shiver to his soul, for he felt as if she had claimed him for herself more potently than words.

  He should have been wise and left then, but love appeared to be more foolish than wise, and at the moment he wanted to be more foolish than anything.

  Carissa stirred, and her eyes suddenly sprang open.

  And he couldn’t, he simply couldn’t, resist a kiss.

  Her lips were warm, her taste familiar, and when she responded so willingly, the kiss slipped from his control. Need and yearning took over, and they both surrendered. He struggled to keep his hands to himself, while they itched to touch and explore.

  She didn’t help matters, pressing her body firmly against his. He was disappointed though grateful that he could feel only a shadow of her body through the blanket. If he felt any more of her, he’d be sure to surrender to his passion, and she would obviously have trouble not submitting to her own.

  He had no choice, he had to end the kiss, but he did so with extreme reluctance. He rested his brow on hers, giving them both time to catch their breaths and, hopefully, still their yearnings.

  “We shouldn’t,” she whispered

  “We won’t,” he said.

  “But I want to,” she admitted breathlessly.

  “As do I, but we must wait.”

  “Yes, we must wait,” she said sadly. “We must make certain that your brother is assured that I play no game but truly love you.”

  Ronan was surprised she didn’t turn away from him, for her remark had left him feeling guilty that, yet again, he had failed to come to her defense, or was it their defense? Instead, she returned her head to his chest, and he took his leave when once again she fell asleep.

  When Carissa woke a short time later, she was hungry, not only for food, but for Ronan. Since only one was possible, she dressed and found her way to the cook area. The servants seemed reluctant and a bit uncertain whether to serve her, and she wasn’t surprised. Gossip among villagers traveled fast, and if the laird had yet to approve of her, then the villagers certainly weren’t going to accept her.

  She was relieved when Addie appeared, and though in a hurry, she took a moment to instruct the servants to provide Carissa with whatever food she wished.

  Addie’s cheeks glowed red and her green eyes sparkled. After she grabbed a flask of wine and crusty loaf of freshly baked bread, she hurried out. Carissa smiled, knowing that Addie and Hagen were about to rendezvous.

  After tasting what was available and finding it not to her liking, actually barely tolerable, she gathered ingredients needed to make a tasty meal, to the bewilderment of the servants, and went to her cottage. If anything, the cooking would keep her thoughts from Ronan.

  She cut, chopped, and kneaded, thinking of nothing but the task at hand. Her thoughts had been occupied of much lately, and she longed for time away from her problems.

  She had just set a pan of apple buns on the wooden table to cool when a gentle knock sounded at the door.

  Knowing it was senseless to think she could keep anyone out, she bid her guest enter. She was surprised to see that it was Honora.

  “It smells heavenly in here,” Honora said, and smiled. “Forgive me, I forget my manners. I should have given you a greeting first.”

  “That was the best greeting I have ever received,” Carissa said.

  “It’s a truthful one.” Honora sniffed at the cooling apple buns. “If they smell this heavenly, I can only imagine how they taste.”

  “Please sit,” Carissa said, pointing to a chair at the table. “I’ll heat some cider for us, and you can have a taste.”

  “I certainly won’t turn down that invitation,” Honora said, and sat.

  “If you don’t mind, I need to finish this bread while you visit,” Carissa said.

  “Please do. I didn’t mean to interrupt, though I never expected to find you cooking.”

  “It’s something I enjoy.”

  Honora took a bite of the bun Carissa sat in front of her, and her eyes opened wide. Before she took another bite, she said, “And something you do with great talent.”

  “Thank you,” Carissa said, “and forgive my bluntness, but why are you here?”

  “I’ve experienced your bluntness firsthand,” Honora said.

  Carissa nodded. “I remember when my father had you kidnapped and brought you to his stronghold.”

  “I remember how coldhearted you appeared,” Honora said. “But what surprised me was when you first arrived here, it was as if I was seeing a different woman, and I began to remember more.”

  Carissa continued kneading the bread.

  “When food was brought to me, you always accompanied the slave who brought it and the platter was always full, much too full for a prisoner…and the food much too tasty. And you always managed to calm your father’s anger when he spoke with me, or more often redirected it to yourself.”

  Carissa shrugged. “Those things mean nothing.”

  “My husband would probably agree with you,” Honora admitted. “But there is one more thing that defies reason, as Artair would say. I had prayed and hoped to find a way to escape your father so that he could not use me as a pawn when my husband came to rescue me. I had all but given up, not being able to find any way out of your father’s stronghold, then…”

  Carissa remained silent.

  “Cavan arrived to lay siege to your father’s land and, while chaos erupted around me, I spied you on your horse taking a path I had never noticed before. It would have only been noticeable to one who knew it was there. I followed you and made my escape, and to my surprise, a horse waited along the path, which made my escape easier.”

  “Why do you tell me this?”

  “Because the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it wasn’t luck that helped free me from your father—it was you.”

  “No one would ever believe such nonsense,” Carissa said.

  “I thought perhaps my husband would.”

  “But he didn’t, did he?”

  Carissa shook her head. “He recalls only pain when he thinks of you, and yet somehow I wonder about that too.”

  “Your husband’s suffering and pain were real when held captive by my father.”

  “I have no doubt of that,” Honora said sadly. “But I do wonder if perhaps you helped him, and possibly others, without any of them realizing it.”

  Carissa punched the dough and gathered it up and slapped it down on the table. “I am who I am.”

  “That’s the problem I have, Carissa,” Honora said softly. “Who are you?”

  Carissa never got to an
swer Honora, who was summoned to the keep by her husband and, for once, Carissa was grateful for Cavan’s interference. Besides, how did she answer the question? She had spent far too many years protecting herself to suddenly begin to trust strangers. And to her, Honora was a stranger.

  She sat on the chair she had moved near the hearth and watched the bread bake. Now that she was done cooking, her thoughts rushed forward, and she wished for a reprieve from them.

  The heavens answered when another knock sounded, and this time it was Zia who entered, wearing a huge smile.

  “Mind if a visit for a while?” she asked, and pulled a chair near the fire before Carissa could respond.

  “I’m glad you’re here. It gives me a chance to thank you for all you’ve done for my men.”

  “I know we don’t know each other well, but my grandmother speaks so highly of you that I am pleased finally to have the chance to get to know you myself.”

  “Your grandmother is a remarkable woman,” Carissa said. “She helps so many.”

  “From what she’s told me, you do the same.”

  “I look after my warriors—”

  “More than just your warriors” Zia said.

  Carissa felt uneasy with compliments. She did what she did because it was the right thing to do. She needed no praise for it.

  “Can I offer you a hot brew?” Carissa asked, wanting to change the course of the conversation.

  Zia popped up off the chair. “I’ll get it. You rest.” She talked while she worked. “It seems that everyone is wondering about you.”

  “What you mean is that gossip has begun to spread, and tongues are wagging wildly,” Carissa said. “I have no doubt villagers are already aware of why judgment against me has been delayed and that most, if not all, believe I tricked him to couple with me.”

  Zia nodded as she handed a mug to Carissa.

  “With barely a day since my arrival, I can’t imagine what further time here will bring for me,” Carissa said.