Читать книгу Highlanders Collection - Бренда Джойс, Ann Lethbridge - Страница 13

The following evening, they arrived at Glen Arrin. The sight of his home should have filled him with relief and thankfulness, but Bram’s nerves tightened with fear of what the others would say. It was his fault that Callum had been taken captive. His fault that his father had died. And though he longed to see his brothers, he was afraid of the blame he would face.

As they approached, his heart grew heavier. Glen Arrin might have been a formidable fortress years ago, but those days were long past.

Half-a-dozen thatched huts encircled the keep and the outer palisade wall revealed large open segments. Broken and frail, the fortress barely held together, like an old man too stubborn to admit his weakness.

Years ago, his father had promised to build a castle, one that could defend their clan from any attack. Those promises hadn’t been fulfilled, it seemed.

‘It needs a bit of fixing, doesn’t it?’ Nairna ventured when he’d pulled the wagon to a stop. She stared at the keep, as though she were trying to find something nice to say. ‘Some thatch and new wood might help.’

He eyed her with disbelief, then glanced back at Glen Arrin. She was being far too generous. Although he’d wanted her to live with him in a place they could be proud of, the fortress was worse than he’d expected.

‘A strong wind would blow it down,’ he admitted. ‘It’s a disaster.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t say that. It just needs a few men to work on it.’

‘Over the next five years,’ he countered.

‘It just needs a new foundation, new walls, a new roof and a new door.’ She sent him a wry grin. ‘Nothing much at all.’

He didn’t respond to her teasing, but when she squeezed his palm, she reminded him, ‘You’ve come home, Bram. After all this time, you’ll see your family.’

Her words stopped him short. She was right. He’d been dwelling upon the appearance, rather than being grateful for his freedom.

He breathed in the clean air, heavy with moisture. And for a moment, he let the familiar sights offer him comfort. He was glad to be home.

He helped Nairna down from the wagon. ‘Come on, then. Let’s go inside. Pray God the roof doesn’t fall on our heads and bury us.’

He took her hand in his, leading her forwards. As they passed the meagre huts, a few curious men raised their hands in welcome, calling out a greeting, their faces breaking into smiles. He recognised the faces of his clansmen, though he couldn’t quite recall some of the names.

He led her further inside until they reached the narrow tower. At a closer glimpse, he saw how unstable the structure was. The frame was worm-eaten, the wood showing signs of decay.

Before he could think any more about it, he saw his brother standing there. Tall, with dark hair and a dark beard, Alex had grown into the image of their father Tavin.

Alex stared at him, as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. ‘My God, you’re alive,’ he breathed, crushing him into a hug.

Bram gripped his brother hard. Words choked up in his throat, leaving him with nothing to say. He couldn’t even speak a greeting, for fear that it would loosen all the emotions he’d locked away. Seeing Alex again, grown into a man, made him aware of all the years he’d lost.

‘You’re taller than I remember,’ he managed at last.

Alex pulled back, a smile creasing his mouth. ‘I suppose you grew a beard to hide that face, so you wouldn’t frighten the others.’

‘I’m still better looking than you.’ He managed a rough smile, and gratefulness washed through him. He did have two remaining brothers, even if Callum wasn’t here.

‘What happened to you, Bram?’ Alex asked.

‘Lord Cairnross took me as his captive.’ Bram didn’t make full eye contact, but he saw the discerning look in his brother’s gaze. ‘Callum is still imprisoned.’

Alex cursed and guilt crossed his face. ‘Bram, they told me both of you were dead. I swear to you, if I’d known any differently—’

‘You were four and ten when we were taken,’ Bram reminded him. ‘I suppose you believed what they told you.’

His brother gave a single stony nod. ‘It doesn’t make it right.’ After an awkward pause, he added, ‘Our uncle became chief of the clan after Da died.’ He stared into Bram’s eyes, as if trying to make excuses. ‘When Donnell died two years ago, I took his place. But I know our father wanted you to be the chief.’

The last thing Bram wanted was to assume control of the clan. He shook his head, ‘It belongs to you, Alex. I’ve no wish for the title.’ Or the responsibility. Whether it was expected of him or not, he wouldn’t consider taking it from his brother.

Alex remained unconvinced. ‘There’s time to decide on that later.’ He directed his attention to Nairna then, and Bram realised he hadn’t even brought her to greet his brother.

He moved to her side, touching her shoulder. ‘You remember Nairna, my wife.’

She lowered her head in greeting. ‘Alex. It’s been a long time.’

A faint smile touched Alex’s mouth, and he said, ‘It has. I’m not surprised Bram stopped to bring you back with him. A bonny lass you always were.’

The compliment was meant to set her at ease, but instead it evoked a twist of jealousy within Bram. He didn’t like seeing Nairna embarrassed. His hand moved about her waist, drawing her closer to his side.

Alex seemed to read his thoughts, and he reassured him, ‘Peace, brother. Laren is my wife and I have daughters of my own.’

Daughters? It seemed strange to even imagine his younger brother with a wife, much less bairns. Almost as if Alex had assumed the life Bram had expected to have. Once again, he was jolted by the passage of time.

‘I would like to meet your wife,’ Nairna said. ‘Are they inside?’

Alex shrugged. ‘Possibly. Or Laren could be out walking. You can go and find her, if you wish.’

Nairna left them, and once she’d gone, Alex gestured for him to walk at his side. They moved around the perimeter of the fortress, neither speaking for a time.

The familiar walls, though worn and broken, offered a quiet peace. ‘I remember climbing that wall, when we were boys,’ Bram said.

‘You used to run along the top edge.’ Alex sent him a sly grin. ‘And you dared me to join you.’

‘You were too afraid.’

‘No, I wasn’t so foolish as you,’ Alex countered. ‘You lost your balance and fell into Ross MacKinloch’s pig pen.’

He’d nearly forgotten about that. ‘And you didn’t go for help, either. You sat and laughed at me, while I was covered in dung.’

Alex grinned. ‘A good memory, that day was.’

‘For you. Mother blistered my ears, screeching about how I was going to break my neck.’

Truly, they’d been thickheaded lads. An unexpected smile pulled at his mouth.

His brother returned the smile, adding, ‘It’s good to have you back, Brother.’ But behind the words, there was concern and he didn’t miss the way Alex eyed his thin frame. ‘How are you now? Do you need a healer?’

Bram shook his head. Most of his wounds were now scars. ‘I’m improving each day. I just need to train, to prepare for when we rescue Callum.’

Alex shook his head. ‘You’ll stay here while we find Callum.’

There was no chance he’d remain behind. ‘Why? You think I’m too weak?’

‘Aye.’ Alex didn’t bother to disguise the truth. ‘You’ve been in a prison for seven years, and even Dougal could defeat you, as thin as you are now.’

‘Dougal?’ he shook his head in disgust. ‘But he’s only seven—’ He broke off, realising what he’d said about their youngest brother.

‘Four and ten,’ Alex corrected.

The reminder of the lost years forced him into silence. All of them had aged, but he’d thought little about Dougal, for the boy had been off at fostering since the age of four. He hardly remembered what his brother looked like and it bothered him to think of it.

‘Is he back already?’

Alex nodded. ‘He’s inside. I’ll take you to him.’

When Bram entered the keep, trestle tables were overturned, while dogs barked, snarling at each other for bones. The stale odour of rotting rushes caught him without warning, and it was so similar to the prison conditions that he froze.

In that sudden moment, he felt the walls closing in on him and his skin crawled. If he shut his eyes, it was like being there again, trapped in chains. He stumbled back towards Nairna, who was staring at the sight in disbelief.

As soon as he reached her side, her own unique scent caught him, masking the darkness. He wanted to bury his face in her hair, blotting out the harsh memories. But he didn’t dare touch her.

‘I’m going to drag your legs through your arse, pudding-faced bastard!’ a voice yelled. The insult had come from a young man whom he barely recognised as Dougal. Though he was tall and strong for his age, the boy was hardly able to fight off Ross MacKinloch, who appeared to be toying with him. Dougal swung a reckless punch that missed his opponent.

‘Mind your temper, lad,’ Ross warned. A thin smile lined the older man’s face. He picked up a chair and went after Dougal.

‘What are they doing?’ Nairna asked, her eyes wide.

‘Ross trained each of us,’ Bram said. ‘When we were young, he taught us how to use every weapon. He knows what he’s doing. Dougal will be fine.’

‘But he’s just a boy,’ she protested. ‘He’ll be hurt.’

Dougal overheard the remark, for he retorted to Nairna, ‘I’m not a boy.’

‘Aye, you are,’ Alex interrupted. He beckoned to Dougal, ‘Have you no welcome for your eldest brother?’

A shadow of resentment darkened the lad’s face. ‘I don’t even know him. Why should I welcome him?’ With that, he picked up another chair, smashing it against the stone. Holding a chair leg in his hand, he went after Ross. ‘Come back and fight me, old man!’

Bram watched the pair, not letting any expression cross his face. Dougal’s defiance shouldn’t have surprised him. They’d hardly known each other, and it had been so long, he supposed it was to be expected that his youngest brother wouldn’t remember him.

When Bram was twelve, Dougal had followed him everywhere. The young boy had tried to take Bram’s weapons, dragging a bench across the room to climb up and reach the blades he wasn’t supposed to touch. It bothered him to think that the boy who had once attached himself to Bram’s leg was now indifferent.

Alex lowered his voice. ‘Dougal’s getting worse every day. Thinks he can fight the English.’ Shaking his head, he directed to Nairna, ‘At least when he fights with Ross, he won’t be hurt. Well, aside from a few bruises and scrapes.’

Bram stared at their youngest brother. The skin upon Dougal’s arms was reddened, while blood trickled from his nose. The lad fought with pure aggression, letting his rage dictate his actions. He swung his fists without thinking, his long arms and legs clumsy.

Bram watched his brother fighting, feeling a sense of unease. Was that how his father had viewed him? Had he been like Dougal, struggling to prove himself? For a moment, he imagined himself in his father’s place, fighting to protect his son. If he ever had a son of his own, he hoped he could train the boy to keep a calm head.

Anger and aggression only caused clumsiness. It was better to lock away all emotions, concentrating on bringing down the enemy. He’d managed to gain his freedom by numbing himself to everything but his goal. And though he’d had to live with the guilt of leaving Callum behind, it was the only way to save them both.

A moment later, Ross tripped the lad, twisting Dougal’s arms behind his back and shoving him against the floor. ‘You’re finished, lad. The English would have slit your throat, just like that.’

Nairna was trying hard not to look, but her face grew worried. Bram moved up behind her and started to rest his hands on her shoulders before he thought better of it. Instead, he lowered them to his sides and bent closer to her ear. ‘Are you hungry? Shall I see about food before we retire for the night?’

She turned around, her clear green eyes meeting his face. ‘Only if you try to eat.’

‘I’ll eat,’ he agreed. But he couldn’t resist grazing his hand against her cheek. She reddened and touched her face, shivering slightly.

Dougal stalked away after Ross released him, his tight anger evident within his posture. He’d been humiliated before everyone and no doubt he’d want to sulk in private. Though Bram wanted to talk to him, he understood that it wasn’t a good time.

When Ross came forwards, his smile was so broad, it nearly split his face. ‘Bram!’ He gripped him in a hug so tight, it nearly crushed his lungs.

The older man released him, pounding him on the back. ‘By God, it’s a miracle t’see you again.’ With a gleam in his eye, he prompted, ‘Alex, we’ll be needing a few barrels to celebrate.’ Then his gaze fell upon Nairna. ‘And you’ve brought your lass home again.’ His smile turned teasing. ‘After seven years, we all know what you’ll be doin’ tonight.’ A loud laugh erupted from the old man. ‘Next summer, I suppose we’ll be celebrating the birth of a bairn! ‘

There were resounding cheers from the other men, but Bram didn’t miss the pain upon Nairna’s face, though she tried to smile.

‘Did you find Laren?’ Alex asked Nairna, but she shook her head.

‘She returned with your daughters and is preparing them for bed,’ Ross interrupted. ‘I imagine she’ll be here soon enough.’

Frustration lined Alex’s face as he gave a brief nod. But Nairna intervened, saying, ‘Don’t trouble yourself if she’s busy with the children. I’ll be glad to meet her in the morning.’

Alex gave a nod, but Bram saw the way his eyes drifted above stairs. There was something unreadable in his brother’s expression, almost a sense of regret, before Alex turned back to them.

‘Where is the mead?’ Ross reminded the chief. ‘We should drink to Bram’s return!’

Alex managed a smile and gave the order. ‘We’ll drink tonight,’ he proclaimed, ‘and tomorrow, we’ll have a feast.’

Though Bram understood that his brother was trying to welcome him back, the last thing he wanted was to be the centre of everyone’s attention. He’d survived captivity and come home. It was enough.

‘For now, I want to find a place for Nairna and I to sleep,’ Bram responded. They needed shelter, and from the look of the keep, there wasn’t much room. He didn’t want his wife sleeping on the earthen floor amid the stench of rushes. He wanted privacy from everyone else, a place where they could retreat in solitude.

‘I’ll find something,’ Alex agreed.

As more and more people joined them within the keep, the noise level rose higher and the mead flowed. So many of his clansmen came to welcome him, asking questions, until Bram found himself having to repeat himself time and again.

The crowds made him agitated, with so many people he hadn’t seen in years. Though he tried to manage it, speaking to each one, he felt himself growing more weary and less interested in food.

‘Here y’are, lad,’ came a voice from behind. Ross sloshed a cup of mead into his hand. ‘A long, hard drink is what you’re needing.’

Some of the men snorted and another called out, ‘It’s not the only thing that’ll be long and hard tonight! ‘

Nairna’s mouth opened in shocked surprise and she quickly looked at the ground as if she were searching for an escape.

Bram took the drink and eyed the men. ‘Go. Away.’

Ross raised a toast and drained his mug, laughing with the others. To their credit, they left him alone with Nairna.

Right now, his mood was balanced on a razor’s edge. He needed to escape the crowds, to gather up the pieces of his sanity. Nairna offered him food, but he only picked at it.

‘You’d better eat more than that, MacKinloch,’ she ordered him. ‘You need to get your strength back.’

‘And what will I be needing the strength for, a ghaoil?’ he asked, taking her fingertips.

Her face coloured and she held out a bite of fish, offering it to him. When she pushed the bite of food into his mouth, her thumb brushed against his lip.

The soft touch brought him into a deeper awareness of her. He ignored the clan members gathering and the sounds of their conversation grew muted. He looked into Nairna’s worried green eyes and kept her fingers locked in his.

‘Bram, are you all right?’

No. He was tired, irritated at having to be around so many people, and his mind couldn’t stop thinking about the night he would spend with Nairna.

The bawdy conversation was doing nothing to alleviate the sexual hunger he felt for Nairna. He remembered the silken skin and the sweetness of her kiss. Even more, the way she’d clung to him when he’d kissed her only deepened his own arousal. He wanted to be alone with his wife right now. He wanted to explore her body, to learn the mysteries of a woman’s flesh. Unless she kept her hands off him, his control was going to break apart.

When her hand came up to stroke his cheek, all semblance of reason snapped.

Nairna wondered what she’d done to provoke such a response. Bram took her arm, guiding her up and away from the others. He took her to the furthest corner, away from everyone else, and pulled her into his arms.

Behind her, she heard the sounds of cheering, the men applauding her husband.

Bram’s gaze locked with hers and he looked as though he’d rather devour her, instead of the food they’d shared earlier. ‘Ignore them.’

His thumbs caressed her jawline and he leaned in to rest his forehead against hers. Her body responded with a shiver, though she wasn’t cold at all. Bram lowered his hands down to her shoulders, past her waist, before he brought her up against the wall.

She forgot about all the people around them, lost within the intensity of his dark eyes. His mouth moved in to take hers and she yielded to him, sensing the caged tension. He kissed her until she couldn’t catch her breath, until she no longer heard the sounds of men celebrating.

Her heartbeat was racing so fast, her body responding to the desire he’d conjured. And though she knew he had the right to consummate their marriage, the flutter of nerves rose up in her stomach.

‘Bram,’ she interrupted, turning her face to the side. ‘Not here.’ Too many were watching them and she suspected he’d forgotten where they were.

His face was unyielding, his eyes turning to frost when he released her. ‘You have five minutes to finish what you want to eat. After that, you’re mine.’

He left her alone while he went to speak with Alex, and in the meantime Nairna sat down, trying to collect her stray thoughts.

He was going to take her body tonight. He would become her husband in flesh, as well as in name.

She steadied her breathing, letting her mind drift. It might be pleasant, if Bram’s kiss was any indication. And she wasn’t a maiden who would be terrified of the joining. There was nothing that should frighten her.

But something about Bram made her pulse quicken and her body ached in secret ways. She overheard more raucous jokes about sex, and though she knew the men meant no harm, it was making her more nervous. She couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like with Bram.

Before she could calm herself, he returned.

‘Alex has found a place for us. We’ll go now and rest.’

Rest? From the hungry look in his eyes, it seemed that sleep was the last thing on his mind.

Breathe, she reminded herself. It’s nothing more than sharing his bed. But her nerves tightened at the thought of lying naked beneath him.

As he led her through the crowd, the men cheered. When some of them tried to follow, Bram sent them a threatening look.

‘If you’re needing any advice, lad—’

‘I don’t.’ He pointed for the men to return. ‘Go back to your ale and leave me with my bride.’

‘Give her a kiss from us!’ Ross offered, making puckering noises.

Nairna wanted nothing more than to escape their teasing. Though they meant well, she needed no more reminders about what would happen tonight.

‘Alex said we could sleep in one of the storage shelters,’ Bram said, leading her outside. ‘There’s no bed, I’m afraid.’

It was better than sleeping in the keep, amid the dogs, Nairna thought.

‘I brought a mattress,’ she reminded him. ‘We could fetch it from the wagon, along with blankets.’

‘I’ll get it.’ Pointing to one of the wattle-and-daub huts, he told her, ‘We’ll stay here tonight and then find a place of our own in the morning.’

Before he left her, he slid a hand around her waist. ‘Nairna, I promise it will be all right. I won’t hurt you.’ He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead before he turned to walk back to the wagon. She held on to her waist, feeling as though his lips had burned a mark into her skin.

She was restless about the forthcoming night. To distract herself, she entered the grain hut. Inside, it smelled musty and damp. Sacks of barley and corn lay stacked in a corner, both food stores and seed for next year.

The structure was rectangular, perhaps eight feet wide. It looked more suited to horses, but Nairna supposed it was better than sleeping out in the open.

Her skin turned cold, the nervous energy rising higher. Lie still, she reminded herself. Submit to him and let him do as he pleases.

She wasn’t afraid of lovemaking, only of disappointing Bram. Whenever Iver had shared her bed, her husband’s thoughts were distant, his movements a cold duty. And when time went on, and she still hadn’t become pregnant, there had seemed little point in the act.

But tonight could be different. She prayed that, somehow, Bram could give her the child she wanted so desperately. Her hands moved down to her stomach, the wistful longing filling her up inside.

When Bram returned, he set down her mattress, dumping a load of blankets atop it. He stopped to look at her, his faded tunic looking pale in the moonlight.

Dark brown eyes stared into hers, leaving no doubt of his needs. And yet there was a tangible distance, almost as if he didn’t want her to know him, or guess at his thoughts.

His muscles strained as he lifted several sacks of grain to block out the wind from the crevices of the shelter. As he moved, Nairna realised that, although he was thinner, there was no mistaking his strength from the hard labour he’d endured.

She studied the reddened, raised scars encircling his throat. They revealed the mark of an iron band that must have rested around his neck. Though the abrasions were starting to heal, the scar would remain.

After he’d finished moving the sacks of grain, Bram removed his tunic, baring his shoulders. Though he was thin, his lean muscles caught her eye. The urge to touch his skin came over her, though she suppressed it.

Nairna turned around, trying to loosen her gown. Bram came up behind her and helped to lift the woollen garment away, leaving her dressed in her shift. Her body grew cold from the chilled air and she hugged herself to keep warm. With one hand, she unravelled the bandage from her wrist, letting the strip of cloth fall to the floor.

With Bram so close, she couldn’t help but see the massive scarring upon his body. It was monstrous to think of what they must have done to him.

‘Does it hurt?’ she asked, reaching to touch the whitened skin.

‘It’s mostly healed.’

That wasn’t a no. She worried about whether or not he was in pain. He might not tell her, even if he was.

Bram’s mouth rested beside her ear, his hot breath taking her thoughts apart. She could almost feel the heat of his bare skin and it both fascinated her and frightened her. She couldn’t stop her intake of breath when his kiss grazed the line of her jaw.

‘I’m going to sleep with you this night, Nairna. The way I should have done, these past seven years.’