A Highland Feuding

* * *

Brodie leaned down and tightened the belt under the horse’s belly, making certain it was secure. He stroked the animal, not one of theirs, but a beautiful beast, anyway. The Camerons could pick horseflesh and had some of the best in the Highlands. He whispered nonsense as he calmed the horse and finished his task. Or he would have if his friend Rob had not interrupted him.

‘So, she is quite the beauty, is she not?’ Rob said from the other side of the horse. Glancing down at the horse’s rather obvious attributes, Brodie frowned at the man.

‘Aye, he is,’ he said, shaking his head as he checked the other belt and the reins.

‘Are you daft or just trying to be difficult, Brodie?’ Rob leaned in closer, his face just above the horse’s back. ‘The lass. The lass is a beauty.’

‘Oh. The lass. Aye,’ he mumbled out and saw to his task. He was beginning to think that asking Rob to accompany them on this ride had been a mistake. He should have asked one of the men on duty instead of his friend.

‘Come now, you have to admit that it would not be difficult to marry her? To have her in your bed? To see that hair loose. Those eyes? That mouth?’ Rob said in a low voice and then laughed at him. ‘I would not mind ending up with her to wife when this bargain is struck.’

‘A beauty? Aye, she is beautiful,’ Brodie admitted aloud to his friend. Stepping back and giving the horse one more look, he shrugged. ‘To be honest, Rob, I’d rather end up with another dozen head of cattle or horses like this one than her. Cattle and horses would be more useful to us, to me, than a woman who lives by her beauty.’

From the frozen expression on his friend’s face and the sudden silence of those closest to them in the yard, Brodie knew she was there behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment and then let out his breath. His words had been harsh. Not meant for her to hear. She had heard and he needed to apologise. His uncle would have his ballocks if he did not make this right. Trying to think of the right thing to say, he turned slowly to face her.

If he had delayed only a moment more, he would have missed the fleeting dimming of her eyes and the slight downturn of the corner of her mouth. His stomach clenched at the sight. Then she smiled that empty smile of hers and walked up to him.

‘It is kind of you to escort me around your lands,’ she said, smiling at him. ‘I know you have other duties to see to and appreciate your time.’

‘Lady Arabella,’ he began. Then...nothing.

Not the wrong words. Not the right ones. Simply no words.

‘What do you think of him?’ she asked, coming alongside of Brodie. ‘Is he not magnificent?’ She was being gracious and giving him a way out of the insult he’d just paid her. He took it.

‘Aye, he is. Strong and lively,’ he said, slowly sliding his hand over the horse’s withers and nodding. He glanced at the horse’s legs. ‘Stamina, too, I think.’

‘Oh, he can ride for days,’ she said, walking to the horse’s head and rubbing it. ‘He has taken me on many journeys.’ She stepped back and met his gaze. He searched for some sign of hurt feelings or insult, but her blues eyes were empty of any emotion. ‘Should we be on our way?’ she asked, looking at the gathering clouds over them.

‘Mount up,’ he called out to the rest of their travelling group as he assisted her onto her horse.

Once she had settled, he handed her the reins and mounted his own horse. She sat as though born in the saddle, completely in control of the huge stallion. He could not help but stare at the way she looped the leather straps over and around her hands, keeping them at the right tension so that the horse had some freedom, but also could feel her commands. Brodie led them out of the yard, through the gates and in the opposite direction from where Caelan had taken her that morn.

Rob knew where they were going, so he rode ahead and the Cameron guard rode behind them. The lass’s cousin, a young woman named Ailean who wore the frown and had the bearing of an old spinster, positioned herself at Arabella’s side, directly behind him. They’d crossed the stream a mile or so from the keep and continued towards the mountains that ran across their lands, from the loch to the sea. A few minutes after he heard whispering between the two women, Brodie found the lass riding alongside him.

‘So, Brodie, where are we going?’ she asked in a soft voice, her gaze not leaving the uneven road in front of them.

‘You have seen our lands near the loch. We are going to a place up on the mountain for a different look.’ It was his favourite place on all their lands, but he did not say that. ‘A short distance ahead, we’ll take the path up the mountainside.’

She did not drop back to ride with her cousin then. Nay, the lass continued to match his pace and remain there next to him. Which was probably what she had done with Caelan. Unease built in his gut—he’d rather fight a small army of Camerons than have to deal with this one. Worse, she did not even acknowledge the insult paid her—which made it the only thing he could think about as they travelled high up on the path.

After one curve in the road, they entered a clearing, an outcropping that positioned them high above Mackintosh lands. The view was one he liked, one he visited often when he needed solitude. The clouds were low and heavy right now, but when the sun shone and the breezes blew, you could see for miles and miles, across the hills towards the sea and back to the loch.

‘Beautiful.’ Her breathless voice startled him, for he had forgotten for a moment that she was there.

‘Aye.’

He dared a glance and found her usually empty gaze now filled with wonder at the sight before them. Brodie thought, for one daft second, that she might appreciate not only the view but the lands themselves. Lands much larger than those of the Camerons even if you considered the lands they stole all those generations ago. As quickly as it had appeared, her gaze changed at the sound of the others arriving. And the dreaded smile returned.

‘I am confused as to our orientation,’ she said. ‘The loch is...where?’

Brodie turned in his saddle and pointed to the right. ‘Loch Lochy is about five miles that way. Arkaig is north,’ he said. ‘And the sea is about thirty miles to the west.’

‘And Mackintosh lands?’ she asked, glancing from one horizon to the other.

‘To the loch and as far as you can see to the west,’ he said, not keeping the pride from his voice. ‘And miles to the north and south, as well.’ She stared out at the distances in the directions he’d indicated and nodded.

‘You were correct then, sir,’ she said softly, meeting his gaze then.

‘Correct, Lady Arabella?’ He tugged the reins slightly and turned his horse to face hers. A step or two closer and their legs nearly touched. ‘Correct about what?’

Brodie could not remember a single thing he’d said to her other than the direction of their lands. And he knew he was correct about those. He knew their lands in the light of day or dark of night.

‘That additional cattle or horses would be useful to you. Mayhap you should add that to the list of Mackintosh demands in the negotiations before it is too late?’

God save him, but her eyes blazed like icy fire for a moment and the smile left her face. Only when Rob snickered behind them did she regain control over her expression. It was the most he’d heard her say and the only time he thought he might be seeing the lass herself and it was gone. The ice maiden sat smiling at him for a moment more. Then, with a slight motion of her hand, she directed her mount around him and out of the clearing. The rest of them scrambled to follow her, leaving him alone to look out over their lands and ponder the mistakes he’d made so far.

First, he’d been so busy trying to ignore her and the possible match that he had not paid enough attention to her and had missed her true nature. For the man who oversaw the Mackintosh clan’s spies, that was a huge failure.

Second, Brodie had failed at doing what he did best—notice things that affected the clan’s security and preparedness for battle. He’d seen only what the lass wanted him—them—to see: a woman who had no mind of her own and did as she was told.

And last, and worst for his peace of mind, discovering that she was not a mindless, empty-headed beauty pleased him in some way he did not wish to think on or even acknowledge.

Riding out of the clearing and on to the road leading down the mountain, Brodie understood he would need to keep a closer watch on her. Why that brought a smile to his own face, he knew not. He caught up with them and placed himself at her side, edging her cousin ahead with Rob and the guards. He still needed to offer an apology for his coarse words of insult.

‘Lady Arabella,’ he said, slowing his horse’s pace so that there was some distance between them. ‘I would speak privately with you.’

When her maid glanced back across that growing space, the lady waved her off. The lass matched his horse’s gait and they rode for a short time in silence as he tried to choose his words more carefully than he had earlier. Once again, she saved him.

‘Sir...Brodie,’ she began quietly without looking at him. ‘I have been raised to carry out my duty for my family. Marrying whoever is named as the next chieftain of your family is that duty. And I will carry it out, no matter my personal feelings on the matter. I assume you will do the same?’ Her blue eyes rose until they locked with his.

‘I will carry out my duty,’ he said, nodding. Brodie could not be certain what his personal feelings were on the matter when she stared at him so, but later he would sort through it all. For now...

‘Lady Arabella, I...’ He stumbled over the words he now wanted to say. ‘I should not have said such things about you.’

‘Did you mean it? About needing cattle or horses more than me?’ she asked. Neither her tone nor her expression gave away her feelings on his words.

‘Do you wish to hear the truth?’

‘I prefer the truth. I hear so little of it.’

‘Aye, we need more cattle.’

Silence sat between them, but neither looked away.

‘Then the good thing about getting a wife is that she’ll be bringing the gold with which you can buy more cattle.’

The lass shifted in her saddle then, he could tell she was going to move away. Brodie reached out and touched her hand. She startled at the contact of their skin yet did not pull away.

‘Aye. But I still should not have said that.’

‘Aye,’ she agreed as she lifted her hand from beneath his and gathered the reins. ‘You should not have.’

Now, as she rode towards where the others were, he laughed aloud for the first time in a very long time. Arabella glanced back and nodded at him, wearing the first genuine smile he’d seen on her face.

There was more to this lass than he had thought. Mayhap marrying her, if he had to, would not be so bad at that?

Chapter Three

Malcolm approached the table, making his way through the crowd of Mackintoshes gathered for the meal. More than once, she noticed that he stopped to speak to one or another young woman. Her brother had that effect on women. Tall and handsome, he drew many an eye as he moved on towards the dais. He smiled at her as he took his place next to her.

‘So, two more days and we will be gone from this place,’ he whispered to her as his cup was filled by a very attentive and buxom serving woman.

‘Two more days and, aye, we leave,’ she said. ‘I, however, will be brought back to remain here for ever in a few short months.’ He stared at her, perusing her face and then her eyes.

‘Are you unwilling to marry here? Have you changed your mind?’ He lifted her chin and narrowed his gaze. ‘Tell me the truth.’

This was the only person with whom she could share her true feelings. They’d shared their mother’s womb and spent much of their lives together since their birth.

‘Willing or not, I will do what is expected of me. You know that,’ she whispered. ‘I just wish I knew more about the two of them. I wish I had more time. I wish...’

She stopped. Her wishes meant nothing in the negotiations or what would come after it. Her throat burned with unexpected tears and she lifted her cup and drank some of the ale to wash them down.

‘What can I do to ease your burden and your worries, sister mine?’ She knew he would help her, if he could.

‘Marry the one selected as tanist?’ she suggested. Malcolm laughed loudly at the inappropriate comment, loudly enough to draw attention. Her aunt frowned a warning, the one that meant her behaviour was unseemly.

‘Think not that I shall escape a marriage bargain like yours,’ Malcolm said. ‘If there had been a daughter, have no doubt that I would have been offered like the sacrificial lamb that you are.’ He leaned in and added, ‘And think not that I can avoid being sold to the next highest bidder.’

Someone, one of his friends, called out his name and Malcolm emptied his cup before leaving her side. At the last moment, his expression grew serious.

‘Truly, is there aught I can do to ease your mind on this marriage and the bargain made?’

‘Find out what manner of men they are.’

That was her real question. She saw only what they showed her, just as they knew little or nothing about her. But as her husband, either man would have complete control over her—her body, her wealth, her future. They had nothing to fear going into a marriage for they lost nothing while she, as the wife, had many concerns. Concerns she could not voice or discuss, but ones that made her lose sleep.

‘Find out...what?’ he asked, nodding again to his friends.

‘What kind of men they are. How they treat other women. How they are thought of by their clan. That sort of knowledge.’

‘How big their co—!’ She smashed her hand against his mouth before he could finish the word. The heat of a blush filled her cheeks. Only her irreverent brother would say such a thing to her. But, he revelled in shocking her.

‘Malcolm!’

He lifted her hand from his face and kissed the top of it. Standing then, he bowed to their father and the Mackintosh chief and, with a wink, he was walking away. Soon, friends surrounded him and Arabella smiled. He meant what he’d said—he would seek what she needed to know. He would not fail her and would help her prepare for this new life she faced.

When Arabella turned her attention away from her brother, Brodie caught her eye. He never seemed at ease. Always watchful as he glanced around the chamber out of the corner of his eye, he kept everyone under his inspection. She thought she’d witnessed a few surreptitious nods and signals between him and several other men scattered around the gathering.

There! He’d done it again—exchanged some hidden message with a tall man standing in the back of the hall. She sipped from her cup and observed him over the rim. He repeated his actions—making contact, signalling in that same way, then moving on to the next one—over and over until his gaze moved back to the front of the hall...and to her.

Tempted to look away, instead she nodded to him and watched as he approached. Taller than his cousin, he wore his dark-brown hair long, tied back only at his temples. Though she rarely saw him smile, there were lines around his brown eyes and his mouth that spoke of the habit. His long legs covered the distance between them in a few paces and he stood before her, with his arms crossed over his chest, studying her much as she did him.

Their encounters since that day when they had ridden into the hills, when he had voiced his desire for more cattle rather than her, had been an interesting mix of politeness and challenge. Just last night, at their evening meal, he’d slipped in a question about crops and only the quiet ‘harump’ reply indicated his surprise that she could speak on such things. This morning, in the yard, he’d asked permission to ride her horse. He’d said the beastie needed a good run after being stabled through much of their business, but she recognised an appreciation for horseflesh that matched hers.

He stood there now, waiting for her permission to join her at table. She placed her cup on the table and nodded. Brodie sat in the chair vacated by her brother.

‘My thanks for permitting me to take the horse out, Lady Arabella.’ He smiled then and the combination of male beauty and the way his face lit with it made her breathless. How had she ever thought him intimidating and foreboding?

‘What did you think of him?’ she asked, waiting for his cup and hers to be filled. ‘How far did you ride?’

‘Several miles past the clearing,’ he said. ‘Into the hills and beyond. I gave him his head and he took it.’ Brodie laughed then and she noticed as many in the hall turned at the sound. ‘He tempted me to continue, but I did not want to overtire him with your journey home coming so soon.’

‘I have yet to tire him out,’ she admitted. ‘Most times I am the one to surrender.’ She laughed. ‘Even my brother, Malcolm, cannot, so I know my skills are not so shoddy.’

He remained at her side, both of them watching as people gathered in small groups before them, clearing the space so that dancing could begin.

‘Do you have any mares here he could be bred with?’ she asked. The horse had wonderful traits that could be passed on to his get. Brodie choked then and coughed to clear his throat.

‘Lady,’ he whispered. ‘’Tis unseemly a topic...’

She turned to face him, shaking her head and putting her cup down.

‘He is mine and will remain mine, sir,’ she said. ‘Even after my husband is given control over everything else I bring to this marriage, that horse is mine. Since you were interested in him, I thought offering him as stud would give you his offspring.’

Arabella knew her aunt and her father would be horrified, almost as much as Brodie was, to hear such words—or even the knowledge of such things—from her. She waited on his response.

He laughed.

Laughed. Raising his cup, he smiled and nodded to her.

‘Then I accept your gracious offer, my lady,’ he said. ‘And I know just the mare to choose for him.’

Watching his eyes change from surprised to curious and then to appreciation made her wonder if marrying a man like him would not be the terrible thing she’d thought it would be. Shocked that she could contemplate such a thing without the fear she’d felt for so long, she listened as he spoke on the topics Caelan never did—lands, farming, animals and more.

Now at a greater ease with him, Arabella wanted to ask him another question, one about the hand signals. Caelan’s arrival and interruption prevented that.

‘The music is starting, Arabella,’ he said. ‘I know my cousin cares not to dance, but that you favour it. So, may I?’ He held out his hand and waited for her to take it.

She did not. For the first time during her visit, her curiosity won over her need to be gracious. Smiling as always, she shook her head and did not take his hand.

‘My stomach is bit unsettled and I would like to wait before dancing,’ she said. ‘It must be the travelling and the excitement.’ When both cousins wore a similar frown at her words, she added, ‘Caelan, I am certain this will pass shortly and I will seek you out to accept your kind offer.’

‘Should I call your cousin or aunt?’ Brodie offered.

‘Nay. I just need to sit for a short time.’ She’d thought Caelan would be the one to offer such aid, so Brodie surprised her. Now, glancing at Caelan, she saw that he edged away from her and his usual pleasant expression had turned slightly grey.

‘Very well,’ he finally said. ‘I will wait over there.’ He pointed to a seat at the other end of the table. And then he walked to it quickly.

Such behaviour came as another surprise. She did not know what to say about it, but Brodie explained.

‘My cousin fears illness. He avoids being around those who are ailing or sick. He has since he was a child.’ A hint of amusement filled his words. He turned to her then, examining her face with that intense stare she’d seen before. ‘Truly, do you have need of assistance? One of your women? Our healer?’

Arabella could not resist a bit of mischief now, though he was being attentive and kind and, for once, not his irritating or insulting self. She looked up at him through lowered lashes and used her most feminine voice—the one that usually had any man she aimed it at doing her bidding.

‘There is something you could do,’ she whispered to him. Dropping her hand between them where no one else would see, she shaped her fingers into one of the gestures she’d witnessed. ‘You could tell me what this means?’

His gaze followed hers down to her hand and then came back up to stare at her. Then down once more as though he did not believe what he saw there.

‘I have my suspicions, but thought I would ask you since I saw you do it earlier.’ His gaze narrowed for a moment and then something that resembled respect filled it.

‘Do you think yourself clever, Lady Arabella?’

He reached down and eased her fingers out of the gesture. His hand was warm and strong and almost twice the size of hers, yet he did not use that size and strength against her. A shiver shook her at the thought of such a thing.

‘You are ill,’ he said, releasing her hand and turning to call someone. She grabbed his hand to stop him.

‘I am not ill. I only wished to ask you about those gestures. What are you signalling to the others?’ she asked.

‘Others?’ he asked in a rough tone. ‘What others?’

He would not tell her. She had witnessed something he did not wish her to see. His reaction told her the truth—they were messages or words about her. Mayhap more insults about her between him and his friends? The thought of that burned her. Knowing only one way out of this situation, she lifted her face and smiled at him.

‘Forgive me, sir, if I have overstepped the bounds of hospitality. I think my stomach has calmed now. I will seek out your...’ She began to rise, but he took hold of her hand and held her there. ‘Sir?’

‘Brodie is my name,’ he whispered harshly. ‘And do not do that.’ She did not force her way to her feet but remained seated there at his side. With her hand trapped within his.

‘Do not do what, sir?’ she demanded in a whisper that matched his. All the while, the smile remained in place. If anyone glanced at them, nothing would look amiss.

‘Smile like that.’

‘I do not understand. I am simply smiling,’ she said through her teeth.

‘Smiling like a simpleton, aye.’ He yet held her hand in a firm grasp, one at odds with the anger she felt in him. She let her face relax and nodded her understanding. ‘Better.

‘I can only say this. Aye, you did see...what you saw. I am in charge of the guards. My uncle wanted them to keep watch discreetly. We use the signals rather than...’ His grip eased but she did not pull away.

Not even when she felt his thumb begin to stroke her palm and wrist.

Not when heat crept through her veins and across her skin.

Not even when her words jumbled and she could not remember the question she wanted to ask him next.

‘I doubt that anyone else, other than possibly your father, noticed them. Yet you did.’ His eyes darkened then, changing from the deep brown they usually were to something closer to black. ‘I would ask that you not share what you have seen.’

If she exposed his methods to the rest of her clan, it would render them useless. He was asking for her co-operation. It gave her some bargaining power and she almost laughed at that.

‘I will not,’ she said. Some tension lessened and he released her hand. ‘If...’

‘If?’ The narrowing of his eyes and flaring of his nostrils warned her to proceed with caution, much as the same reactions in her horse did. It must be a male custom.

‘If you tell me what this—’ she made the gesture in the space between them again ‘—means?’ He did not look down and he did not respond for a few seconds and she wondered if he would call her bluff. Or just refuse her outright?