Stolen by the Highlander

Now, his uncle had added courting the Cameron lass to the list of accomplishments required for the one deemed worthy to lead the clan. Glancing up, he saw his uncle’s determined eyes and the look of merriment and victory in his cousin’s.

Oh, aye, Caelan had a way with women, his soft words and caresses wooed many to him and his bed. Practised in collecting and discarding any willing woman, his cousin would use all his experience to soften the Cameron lass’s heart. Brodie held no hopes that the woman who would, who could, be the means of ending the generations-long feud between their families would be anything but attracted to his cousin.

‘Aye, Uncle.’ Brodie would rather be attending to training the new guards or organising the defences of their borders than in this useless bit of courting. But, from the glare of his uncle’s expression and the way he crossed his arms over his massive chest, Brodie knew he would be spending time with the lass, Arabella.

‘Try not to put her to sleep,’ Caelan taunted as he walked away.

As much as Brodie wanted to argue or come back at his cousin with some witty or even caustic reply, he could think of none. He was not known for his wit or sense of humour. He was also not known for his easy manner with women. Brodie let out his breath and strode through the hall into the corridor.

What he did do well was protect his clan and their holdings from the constant incursions by their enemies. He’d wanted an end to this feud for a very long time, even before his parents were murdered in an ambush in the hills around Loch Arkaig. With every new fight or battle that led to losing more of his family, his desire to find a way to peace between the Mackintoshes and Camerons had grown. And if it could be ended without destroying all of them, well, that was even better. He preferred peace through negotiation, but he would take it in any way they could obtain it.

Even if it meant he married the lass who wore a false smile like it was her second skin.

So, in spite of his suspicions and the cynicism he now carried with him as a constant companion, he would follow his uncle’s orders and see to taking her on a tour of some kind. Then he would focus his attentions where they mattered—on being the one chosen to lead the clan next.

And, if that included marrying one of their enemies, so be it.

Chapter Two (#ulink_98fef549-d05d-5a69-969b-54092494cb3a)

It was going better than Arabella had expected when she left the keep in the company of Caelan Mackintosh. With Ailean and a Cameron and Mackintosh guard accompanying them, she rode at Caelan’s side out through the gates and along the road through the village. Though she smiled, this morn it was because he made her smile. And laugh. And truly enjoy herself.

His compliments were not as overwhelming as she usually heard, but he placed them well and not too often. Caelan even brought a smile to Ailean’s face and that was no easy task when dealing with her dour cousin. They rode along the road to the east and then followed the path of a large stream into the forest. For a time, they’d walked along the stream, leaving the others a short distance behind but always within sight.

* * *

When they returned for the noon meal, Arabella was amazed that the hours in his company had passed so quickly.

‘I hope it has been a pleasant outing for you, Lady Arabella,’ he said, lifting her hand to his mouth and touching his lips on her skin. ‘Ailean, your company added much to the morn,’ he added with a nod to the now blushing and stammering woman. Caelan had won over at least one Cameron lass and was well on the way to another.

‘It has been, sir. And a welcome change to have a clear and sunny morn after the recent storms,’ Arabella said.

‘Almost as though the fates were smiling on us.’

Her aunt called out her name and she nodded at her. Time to move on to the next of her duties. At least the day had begun well.

‘I will let you see to your duties,’ she said, nodding at him.

His blue eyes sparkled and the appealing dimple in his chin when he smiled at her drew her attention. Attractive, hospitable and charming were not such bad traits for a potential husband, she decided as she walked up the steps to the doorway and entered behind her aunt. They did not speak until they reached her chambers and Devorgilla sent Ailean on some errand so they had a measure of privacy.

‘From the colour in your cheeks and the light in your eyes, I would guess that this morning went well?’ her aunt asked. A bowl of water awaited her and Arabella accepted the washing cloth.

‘It did. He is...acceptable,’ she said. Dipping the cloth in the water, she smiled as she cleaned her face and then hands.

‘Acceptable? Only that, then?’ her aunt prodded. ‘Of the two, Caelan seems the more pleasant.’

‘Aye, Aunt.’ She handed the cloth back and removed the circlet that held her veil in place. ‘You told me not to favour one over the other, so I am trying to follow your advice.’

At her aunt’s direction, she sat so Aunt Gillie could gather her loosened hair back into a braid and to right her appearance before the noon meal. ‘Though I suspect I am a bit optimistic over my chances for a happy marriage with one more than the other.’ Her aunt shushed her as she tugged at the length of her hair.

‘That is not why this match will be made, Arabella. Keep that firmly in mind as you spend time with these men. Their clan’s elders will make their decision and you will marry their choice.’

Arabella felt the pleasure of the outing dissipate with each word of warning uttered by her aunt. She understood her duty and would do it, but that did not mean she could not enjoy these small moments when all the decisions seemed distant yet. A knock interrupted any reply she would have made. Ailean opened the door and entered.

‘They are calling for the meal now,’ her cousin said.

‘Come, Aunt Gillie. We must not have them waiting on us.’ She stood and shook out her gown.

Ailean led the way down to the hall, for her cousin was becoming familiar with the corridors and stairways of this large, stone keep. Arabella tried to clear her thoughts and not be worried about the next part of her day...with Brodie Mackintosh. He was the exact opposite of his cousin—dark and forbidding to Caelan’s light and smiling countenance. When Caelan laughed and spoke easily with her, Brodie simply stared intensely and with an air of disapproval she could not explain. It was as though he looked at her and found her wanting.

So, it was a relief when his uncle announced that he would not join them at this repast. At least the meal would be pleasant.

And it was. Caelan sat a few seats away from her, next to her brother, and continued to pay attention to her. Her father smiled more and The Mackintosh did, as well. Each day they spent here seemed to ease a bit of the tension that had filled the air on their arrival four days before.

But soon, too soon, the informal repast ended and it was time for her to spend the afternoon with Brodie. She took a deep breath and nodded to her aunt and her cousin. The laird directed one of his servants to escort her to the yard and she noticed that Caelan began to offer, but was stopped by a shake of his uncle’s head. So Arabella stood and followed the man out of the keep and into the yard. When she noticed Brodie standing next to their horses, she waved the man off and walked towards him.

* * *

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.