Highland Thunder (Isle of Mull Series) Page 13

  Although Duncan was never far from her thoughts, and she was constantly aware of an underlying longing his touch awakened in her heart, she knew it was better this way. With the return of her sensibility and prudence came greater confidence. Life was a tapestry of blessings but also hardships. It did no one any good to lose their head to temper or temptation; they would only be caught off guard when disaster struck. Indeed, lately, disaster seemed to be hiding around every corner. With secrets to protect and fey creatures in the night, she had to remain on her guard. Besides, she had no room in her life for longing. Desire complicated more than it fulfilled.

  She finished the morning’s wash. As she dried her hands, she examined her fully-healed skin. Her thoughts returned to the day when Duncan first discovered her wounds, and she discovered not only his hidden tenderness but also her vulnerability to his touch. Vulnerability, however, was a weakness she could not afford. No longer did she doubt her control where Duncan MacKinnon was concerned.

  With a determined stride, she gathered a basket with fresh bread she made for Anna who had taken ill and remained at home for several days. She called for Nellore, and together they headed to the village.

  ***

  Duncan knelt in the stables to inspect his horse’s hoof. He suspected the stallion had a sharp rock wedged beneath the shoe. Finding the agent of discomfort protruding with just enough surface to grip with his thumb and forefinger, he yanked it free and received a whinny in response. He stood to brush the horse’s mane. He was anxious to finish so that he might journey on to Brenna’s. The tremulous feel of her body pressed next to his pushed every other thought from his mind. He ached to be near her, to smell her, to feel his arms around her. He had felt his heart wrench in half when, upon arriving in Gribun, he heard of how a faceless intruder, wearing no plaid by which to confirm his affiliation, had been spotted near her home. Once more, he fisted his hands as rage pulsed through him.

  As though heaven sought fit to calm his ire, he heard Brenna’s laughter. He spun around just in time to see her enter the stables. The lilting sound filled his ears like the song of a rare bird. Regrettably, he knew all too well the sound of her anger, her disappointment, and indifference. More than his desire for her lips or the feel of her warm body willing and wanting beneath his own, he longed for her laughter. He snorted as he considered how seldom he had given her a reason to laugh—something he fully intended to remedy. He stayed back in the shadows, content for a moment just to watch her.

  “Hello, Fergus,” she called.

  The stable master joined her near the first stall.

  “Would you mind if Nellore visited Blossom?”

  Fergus tousled Nellore’s black curls. “I will bring her along presently,” he said with a wink.

  Nellore squealed as the stable master led a small chestnut mare out of a side stable. Swept up in the lass’s delight, Duncan was just about to step into the open when Jamie walked through the gate.

  A wide smile lit Brenna’s features as she greeted him warmly. “Welcome home, Jamie. You look well.”

  “My thanks, Brenna,” Jamie said, bowing low over her hand and pressing a kiss to her skin.

  Her eyes showed her surprise, but she did not falter. “The clan rejoices at your return.”

  “And you, Brenna?” Jamie said in a low, husky voice. “Do you rejoice at my return?” This time Brenna did falter. Her eyes darted about the stables. She clearly was at a loss for words. Duncan hastened into the open.

  “Jamie,” he barked without greeting. “Ronan needs you. He is waiting in the courtyard.”

  With a curt nod in Duncan’s direction, Jamie bowed once again to Brenna. Then he turned on his heel and exited the stables.

  “Good morrow, Duncan,” she said not looking at him.

  His eyes traveled from the top of her covered head to her leather clad feet. The pulse at her neck raced. “And to you, Brenna.”

  “Your journey took longer than expected,” she said.

  “Aye, the summer fades. I heard of your trouble, Brenna. Forgive my absence.”

  “You needn’t feel remorse, Duncan. ‘Twas no fault of yours.”

  Her clipped tone was less than welcoming, and she had yet to look him in the eye. His hand reached out and caressed her cheek, but she flinched away from his touch.

  “I’ve thought of little else but you these past weeks. I cannot deny I imagined a warmer reception. Perhaps if I were Jamie, you would be more obliging.”

  Her eyes met his at last but with menacing heat. “I’ve done naught to warrant your disrespect,” she said, pulling Nellore toward the stable doors. He grabbed her arm from behind and turned her about. At first, she refused to look at him. Then slowly her gaze met his and did not waver. His chest tightened as he stared into her sea blue eyes. The world around them ceased, the noise, the smells. He saw only her.

  So complete was his trance that he jumped when she finally spoke. “I…I must go. Anna is expecting me.”

  “Brenna,” he rasped.

  She turned and quirked a quizzical brow. “Aye, Duncan?”

  “I will walk you home when you are finished.”

  “Aye, Duncan,” she replied. Then she was gone.

  ***

  The forgotten feelings of fury and impulse returned with the speed and force of lightning. The shock of it stole her breath and made her heart pound. She hurried to Anna’s as fast as her feet would take her, praying she might outrun the unpredictable wildness renewing itself inside her bones.

  Upon entering her friend’s home, her pulse began to slow. “Anna, I’ve brought you fresh bread to calm your stomach. I was sorry to hear you had taken ill.”

  Anna received the basket with a warm smile. “On the contrary, I am not at all ill. As a matter of fact, I am with child. I missed my last two cycles, but amid the worry and excitement, I never noticed.”

  “Anna, what joyful tidings. Words cannot express my delight.” Brenna said as she pulled her friend into a warm embrace.

  “’Tis wondrous to know a babe grows inside me,” Anna said.

  A pang of regret shot through Brenna. Her barren belly would never know the flutter of new life. With a shake of her head, she grabbed Nellore who was toddling past and flung her up into the air. The sound of her daughter’s laughter filled Brenna’s ears and gratitude filled her heart.

  “Are you feeling well, Brenna?” Anna asked. “You appear flushed.”

  “I am quite well, Anna,” Brenna lied. “I was looking forward to our visit, and so, I hurried. I am out of breath.”

  Anna lifted a skeptical brow, and Brenna knew Anna would question her until satisfied. Damn her intuition. But just then a knock sounded at Anna’s door. Brenna exhaled in relief. At least for now, she was saved from speaking of Duncan.

  “Rona, what a surprise,” Anna said. “And Margaret, I did not see you standing there. Please, do come in.”

  Brenna cringed. Of course Rona and her mother would choose that moment to call. She would not be the least surprised if Margaret chose to visit Anna because she heard Brenna was there.

  “Anna, we came to check on you, dear,” Margaret said.

  “’Tis kind of you to come again so soon. I only just finished the bread you brought over this morning,” Anna said.

  Margaret pushed past Anna, heading straight for Brenna. “Aye, ‘tis glad I am to hear,” Rona’s mother said with an impatient flick of her hand. “Brenna, my dear, what a surprise it is to find you here.”

  Brenna resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

  “Good day, Margaret and Rona,” Brenna said with forced graciousness.

  “Forgive me for saying so, lass, but you do not look at all well. Such weary eyes, and why must you draw your hair back so severely? ‘Tis most unbecoming.” Margaret’s hand snatched Brenna’s scarf clear off her head.

  “Margaret,” Anna exclaimed.

  “What?” Margaret sniffed. “The end of summer draws near. She must remarry. I will not tolerate this s
carf another minute.”

  Brenna reached out and reclaimed her stolen property. The older woman’s eyes cut her like a volley of daggers thrown across the room, but Brenna would not abide her rudeness or interference. She pushed back her shoulders and with resolute motions, she tied her scarf in place.

  “You are by far the most arrogant person I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting,” Brenna said.

  “Brenna,” Anna exclaimed.

  Brenna ignored Anna’s shocked expression and continued. “You won’t have to tolerate my scarf another moment.” Brenna scooped up Nellore and faced Anna whose skin suddenly held a green pallor—the blame for which, Brenna knew, was her sharp tongue rather than morning sickness. She smiled reassuringly at her friend.

  “Anna, come visit me when you can.” Then she shot Margaret one last glare before storming outside.

  Of all the smug women Brenna was certain Margaret was the worst. Even the good Lord discouraged vanity. Brenna was not going to strut around like a proud hen with feathers splayed to please anyone. So much for an enjoyable day in the village. Wanting nothing more than to return home, she hurried about the last of her errands. With arms full, she turned from the miller, firing out a quick farewell and called for Nellore to follow.

  “Brenna.”

  She turned in the direction of the voice and found Jamie close behind her. His blonde hair shone like gold in the sun and fell on bronzed shoulders. His green eyes resembled deep pools of sparkling jewels. Breathtaking was the only way to describe Jamie, but his shining good looks did little to stir her blood.

  “Jamie, I am in a hurry to return home.”

  “Allow me to walk with you. I will relieve you of your burden,” he said gesturing to her full arms.

  “No,” she snapped impatiently, but smiled to cover her rudeness. “I mean, no thank you. ‘Tis hardly a burden. I really must be going.”

  She moved away but he grasped her forearm. “Permit me to visit tomorrow,” he said. She began to shake her head in refusal, but he spoke before she could. “Only for a moment, I have something for you.”

  She took a deep breath and relaxed her shoulders, realizing she was punishing Jamie for Margaret’s rudeness. “Thank you, Jamie, of course you are welcome in my home. You may come for supper.”

  He smiled as though she gave him the moon, and he dipped his head in a chivalrous bow. She could not help but roll her eyes heavenward. God forbid if she had unknowingly won his affection. Her life was conflicted enough without adding a smitten suitor.

  She scooted around him without another word, regretting her trip into the village even more. A wrapped bundle slipped from her arms, and she knelt to pick it up, but another’s hand grabbed it before she could. Her head jerked up to find Duncan glaring at her.

  “I told you I would walk you home,” he growled.

  ***

  He held tight to her bundle while his frustration mounted. Jamie’s love-struck grin fueled his fury—not to mention the warm smile she gave him in return.

  He inhaled deeply as he fought the desire to turn around, tackle Jamie to the ground and beat his pretty face until his warped countenance offended any maid who dared to look upon him.

  “Why were you talking to Jamie?”

  “That is none of your concern,” she replied as she tried to reclaim her property.

  He stepped closer and in a low voice said, “You are my concern. Tell me what he wanted.”

  She released a series of frustrated scoffing sounds and finally shoved the remainder of her belongings into his arms.

  “You listen to me, Duncan MacKinnon. I am not your woman. I will speak to whom I wish.” She pushed past him, pulling Nellore along behind her.

  He soon caught up to her, madder than ever.

  “Have you no shame, talking to the likes of Jamie MacKinnon.”

  “He is a fine warrior, respected by all, and I might remind you, he is also your friend.”

  “He is a peacock,” he shouted, unable to bear her string of compliments for another man.

  He would have sworn a smile passed her lips for a moment, but then her hands settled at her hips as she stopped in front of him.

  “Be that as it may, you are crossing a line, Duncan. I am a grown woman, a widow not an innocent maid, and you must not shout in front of Nellore. It will frighten the lass, which won’t do since you seem determined to remain a presence in our lives—an ornery and unpredictable presence.”

  He took a deep breath, realizing once again that he was overreacting. “I apologize for losing my temper,” he began, but she was quick to interrupt.

  “Again,” she said.

  “Pardon me?”

  “Again. You apologize for losing your temper again.”

  “Aye,” he gritted. “I apologize for losing my temper, but I will not apologize for caring.”

  “Since when do you care about me? Until the eve of your departure, I was certain you despised me.”

  As memories of their last night together flooded his mind, a slow smile drifted across his lips. “And now?” he asked softly as he longed to reach out and take her into his arms and show her just how much he cared.

  “There,” she said, pointing to his face. “Your countenance has changed yet again with your soft voice and warm eyes, like pools of black satin. Just moments ago you were ready to kill me. Do you have any idea how erratic you are? And how confused that makes me feel?”

  He smiled; he couldn’t help himself. “Do you know that I am generally regarded as a humorous and lighthearted man?”

  “Aye, so I’ve heard but have seldom experienced,” she said.

  “And you are heralded as the embodiment of steady sense and reason, but before me stands a woman of temper and passion.”

  She blushed—a first for him to see. The sight of her downcast eyes and crimsoned cheeks made his heart ache. “We seem to bring out the worst in each other,” she said.

  “I never said that,” he smiled. Her color deepened further.

  Wishing to end her discomfort, he took a few steps forward. “Shall we return home?”

  She cleared her throat and scooped Nellore into her arms. “Aye, ‘tis what I’ve been trying to do for the better part of an hour,” she said as she hurried in front of him, but then she turned and glanced back slyly. “Although, I would like to remind you, Duncan, we passed your hut back in the village.”

  “Just as I said. You are a woman of temper,” he grinned.

  As they walked along, Duncan asked again about the subject weighing most on his mind; however, he aimed for a casual tone. “Brenna, will you appease my curiosity and tell me what Jamie wanted?”

  “Why are you still prattling on about Jamie?” she groaned. “’Twas nothing. He merely asked if he might come for a visit tomorrow.”

  “And I suppose you said that would be wonderful,” he snapped.

  “Nay. I said fine. I said it would be fine. Not that it is any of your business,” she said.

  “I do not think it fine. ‘Tis improper for you to welcome men into your home without a care to your reputation or your safety.”

  “You come into my home whenever you choose regardless of my wishes,” she scoffed. “And as to my safety, I think you are my greatest threat. You have shown me glimpses of kindness, but more often than not you have been indifferent and wicked and…and…”

  “And what?” he asked.

  She put her hands around Nellore’s ears. “Indecent,” she whispered.

  A slow smile curved his lips as her full meaning washed over him like a sensual caress, sending waves of heat pulsing through his limbs.

  “I shall have to be better behaved in the future,” he said.

  She tilted her chin a little higher and said, “Aye, see that you are.” Then she cleared her throat and started down the hill. She held Nellore tight as her pace quickened until she was nigh racing down the steep slope away from him. He laughed out loud as he gave chase. She squealed as she looked back, a mix of
terror and humor playing a confused dance across her face. Reaching her door, she threw it open and hastened inside and slammed it shut.

  He slowed his steps down to a walk as he approached her door, but he did not knock. He rested his head against the wood as he called to her.

  Her rapid breathing was the only answer he received, but he spoke knowing she was there. “You never have to fear me, Brenna. I will never hurt you.”

  “You have already hurt me,” she said through the wood.

  He cursed, running his fingers through his hair. “I am sorry, lass, but I’ve vowed to change.”

  Long silent moments past. His hands grazed the wood of the door as he imagined her hand on the other side.

  “Never fear me,” he said softly.

  “Never give me reason,” she said. Her voice sounded breathless. He swore he could feel the heat of her through the door.

  “Leave my belongings outside the door and go away,” she said. “But be sure to come back when Jamie arrives tomorrow. I welcome your interference but only in this matter.”

  He lingered a moment longer not wishing to feel the weight of her absence. Regardless of whether or not Brenna asked for his assistance with Jamie, he would be there, but it pleased him to no end that she sought his aid. Did he make her feel safe despite all that transpired between them? Poor Jamie, he, who by all accounts, was a trusted friend and a brother on the battlefield, did not know what he had done. He declared war against Duncan, and Duncan would fight for what was his.

  Chapter 17

  Brenna stared at the low flames of her fire pit, trying to lose herself in the flickering dance. Orange embers gave way to blue fire, which sprouted orange flames like flower petals, fanning out and shifting as a draft crept in from beneath the door. Her eyes followed the thin smoke as it curled, caressing the air in a sensual dance before drifting through the roof, free from the confines of her hut.

  She closed her eyes and imagined the night air carrying the wafting smoke across the garden to the barn. She pictured the flare of Duncan’s nostrils as he smelled the scent of her fire.