Her Highland Defender Read online

  “So will ye tell me how it is yer all alone here?”

  Chapter Two

  Ceana eyed the shape that was the stranger. She couldn’t see him well in this light, if at all. She moved so that the glow from one of the candles was directly behind him and she was better able to make out the width of his broad shoulders. Mayhap she should have kept him outside. In the daylight, she was less vulnerable. There she could make out colours and definite shapes but in the gloomy confines of her father’s castle, she used memory and touch to guide her.

  She could hardly touch him. Or admit her troubles to him. Who knew if he might try to use her secret against her.

  Where was Kate? Ceana didn’t think this man had bad intentions toward them but being in close confines with him made her throat constrict. She wasn’t entirely sure why. If she’d established he wouldn’t harm her, why did the air stifle about her?

  Swallowing, she clasped her hands in front of her. The great weight of the burden she’d been bearing the past two months felt like a huge boulder pushing down on her shoulders. This man could remove that weight, she suspected. Tall, strong, skilled with a blade. The more she thought on it, the more she considered he might be the answer to her prayers.

  Ceana inched forward, feeling for the tell-tale line of the uneven floorboard with her foot. Her shin touched the bench and she sat opposite him. Now he was only a dark mass with a faint glow about him but there was no doubting that a warrior sat opposite her. She heard his steady breaths and the rasp of his plaid as he made himself more comfortable on the bench and leaned in toward her. She tried not to back away from the dark shape of him as it filled what little vision she had.

  “Ceana?”

  Her name in such deep, dark tones sent a shudder through her—one that ran down her spine and around into her belly, burrowing low down.

  “My father—the chief—and the rest of the men have joined the fight against the English. We are too close to the king’s army. They feared our castle would be sacked if the battle was lost.”

  “Ah. But they left you with no protection?”

  “We had several but fever took its toll. It killed near twenty of us, including the few men remaining.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  She lifted a shoulder. “My cousin is to join us by the end of the sennight with some of his men who have not yet joined the fight. ‘Till then ‘tis just us womenfolk and a few lads.”

  “I’ll pray for their safe arrival.”

  “I thank ye.”

  Silence washed over them. Where was her sister? An idea was coming to fruition as she sat opposite this highlander. They needed protection and he needed rest and food. Mayhap she could persuade him to delay his journey until her cousin Bram arrived.

  “Kate!” she called after several quiet moments.

  “Yer sister?”

  “Aye.”

  “Yer very alike.”

  Ceana laughed at this. For years, they’d been told they looked alike though there was near ten years between them. She didn’t know if their features were similar. Her eyesight meant she’d never seen either of their faces properly. In the daylight, she could make out their dark hair and the shape of their lips. Kate used to let her touch her face to feel the contours, but since she’d grown older, the closeness they’d once shared had trickled away.

  Now, even if they were alike in looks, their temperaments couldn’t be more different. Kate thought of little but herself and was rash and wild. Ceana didn’t understand why she couldn’t take the time to think things through a little more.

  “Where are yer servants?”

  “Oh.” She rose and nearly stumbled over the bench. “I’ve not given the signal.”

  “The signal?”

  She hurried to the stairs and, in her haste, tripped over her skirts. Her knees hit the floor, taking the brunt of the fall and sending a bone-jarring pain through her. Ceana pressed up with stinging palms. Warm hands wrapped about her arms and dragged her up. The disorientation made her head spin. She’d lost her bearings in the room and panic threatened to engulf her.

  “Are ye harmed?” came an urgent rasp.

  She lifted her gaze to his face to see the dark shape of his hair and the pink of his skin. Mutely shaking her head, she tried to press away but his grip was too strong.

  “Did ye hit yer head?”

  “Nay!”

  “Ye look addled.”

  Before she could protest, an arm came about under her knees and her blurry world tilted. She found herself flattened against a solid chest, the metal of a broach pressing into her shoulder. Instinctively, she put her hand to his chest to feel carved muscles and the fabric of his plaid. It was finely woven, not rough. Expensive.

  Of course, she couldn’t tell him that she was not addled. The only people who knew of the troubles with her eyesight were her closest family members and the villagers. Long ago, a healer had declared her an abomination, a devil child, when her family had sought help. She knew full well others would see the same. As the current leader of their small clan, she couldn’t afford to let any outsiders know of her weakness.

  “I am well,” she insisted, breathlessly.

  Again, her world moved and she felt the wood of the bench beneath her. Ceana splayed her hands across the wood to feel for the familiar notches. He had put her about halfway along. She jolted when palms upon her shoulders urged her around. Rough hands took hers in his. There were calluses on them and little bumps where leather reins had rubbed. They felt a little dirty too.

  “No harm here.” She squeaked and tried to push him away when she felt him fumble with her skirts. When she forced herself to focus, she realised he was kneeling in front of her. “Ye landed hard on yer knees,” he murmured, inching up her skirts.

  “Get yer hands off my sister!”

  A blur of blue flew across the room and she heard the rattle of a dish crashing to the floor and an oof from Blane.

  “Kate, he was doing no harm!”

  She longed to stand and drag her sister back but to do so would put herself at risk again, particularly if her sister was battling the large warrior. Shaking her head to herself, she was half-tempted to turn away and burrow her face in her hands. Her sister would never learn to think and ask questions first.

  “Kate!” she tried again and both figures split apart, her sister in her blue gown on the left and the dark shadow of Blane on the right. “Go sound the signal. All is well here. The servants need releasing from the cellar.” She glanced at where she’d heard the food spill on the ground. “And have more food sent up.”

  Kate huffed. “Yer a fool, Ceana.”

  Ceana pinched the bridge of her nose and waved her sister away. Her footsteps thumped across the floor as she stomped off. Before long, the sound of a horn rang out and the villagers would come out from their homes now they knew they were safe.

  But for how long?

  “Yer sister is protective,” Blane commented.

  She watched his form move across the room then duck down. The rattling told her he was picking up the mess her sister had made.

  “Aye, and a lot of work.”

  “Och, a protective sibling is no bad thing, though I’d expect it to be the other way around.”

  “I am protective of her. She just forgets that sometimes.”

  The tray rattled on the table and the bench creaked. She felt the warmth of him nearby and swung her gaze his way. He seemed too close but she didn’t know for certain.

  “Did ye hurt yerself?”

  She smiled. “Only my pride.”

  “Aye, that can be painful indeed.”

  Surely this man had never suffered wounded pride? From what she could tell he was everything a Highland warrior ought to be, and chivalrous too. She doubted he knew what it was like to feel weak and useless.

  “Why is it ye locked up the servants but not yer sister and yerself?”

  “I was in the village when ye were spotted. Kate was meant to take shelt
er with the servants but she is not so easily commanded. While my father is gone, the people look to me. I couldnae hide behind the strong castle walls while the villagers are at the mercy of strangers.”

  “Ye need not have hidden from me.”

  “I couldnae know if ye meant danger or no’.”

  “I am alone.”

  “And we are but women and children. Alone or no’, I wouldnae risk their lives on an assumption.”

  He gave a low chuckle. “Then ye are wiser than half the men I know.”

  She tilted her head to try to get a better view of him. He didn’t move, simply remained confidently close to her, as if he’d always occupied this spot in her father’s hall. If she shifted marginally, the firelight cast a glow over one side of his face and brought out more than a dark blur of features.

  “How is it ye are travelling alone?” she asked.

  Even though she couldn’t see him properly, she sensed him stiffen. “Where is yer sister? I am starved.”

  Ceana scowled. Why would he not answer the question? She hoped she hadn’t been wrong about this man. If he had secrets, he could bring trouble with him. However, she wouldn’t press him. If she was to ask for his help, she needed to charm the stranger.

  Not an easy feat with her sister trying to attack him and her own limited charms.

  “I’ll check on the food,” she muttered before easing away from the table. Careful to hitch up her skirt, she took a quick moment to establish where the light from the windows was and a few more paces told her how close to the kitchen steps she was.

  Feeling assured of her surroundings once more, she walked confidently into the winding stairs and took them down to the kitchen, skimming her hand along the cool stone wall.

  “Ye need to send him out on his arse, Ceana,” Kate declared.

  Ceana seldom came into the kitchen. No windows lit the room and servants often moved the things she could use as points to guide her. She had the entire castle mapped out in her mind but the kitchens were too dangerous. Too many knives and sharp objects. As a girl, she’d learned the hard way to have more care.

  But caution could only take her so far. She needed aid and Blane could provide it.

  She pressed against the wall, aware of the noise of Kate chopping some meat. “We need him, Kate.”

  “Why? We’ve done fine on our own.”

  “Fever killed all our men. I dinnae call that fine.”

  “’Twas no’ yer fault they fell ill.”

  Ceana shook her head. The fever had swept through the men like wildfire. The healer suggested they had contracted it when out on a patrol of the area.

  “There is tell of English about. One of the men said as much before he passed.”

  “We dinnae need a stranger. Cousin Bram will be here soon.”

  “And if the English are upon us before then?”

  The sound of chopping stopped. Ceana imagined the mutinous look on her sister’s face. She didn’t need to see her properly to know her sister had perfected the expression. A lass as stubborn as her sister wouldn’t look any other way.

  “We’ll fight them off. Fraser says I have the courage of a man, and he can help too.”

  “Dadaidh will have my head if I let ye near the lad. He’s trouble.”

  “He’s no’ trouble! He’s a good man and he believes in me. I wish ye would too.”

  Ceana jabbed a finger in her general direction. “I’d be more likely to trust in ye if ye didnae play me false all the time.”

  Something thumped against the table and Ceana jumped. “I dinnae know why Dadaidh put ye in charge. How can ye protect us? I’m better off protecting myself. Now you want to bring a handsome highlander in to our castle all because yer desperate for more attention. Are ye missing having all the men bowing and scraping, is that it?”

  Reeling from the words, she had to brace herself against the wall. It wasn’t the first time Kate had spat such declarations at her and she doubted it would be the last. And in spite of it all, she knew her sister loved her. It just seemed as Kate aged, these outbursts grew worse and worse. Was she as much trouble at six and ten? She’d have to ask her mother later.

  “Kate, I think this man can help us,” she said softly. “Be nice to him, I beg of ye.”

  She wasn’t going to argue with Kate—particularly not on the subject of men. There had only ever been one, many seasons ago, and she had never noticed any bowing or scraping since.

  Her sister released a disgusted sound. “Why do ye have to try to please everyone? Och, I’m no’ taking him his food. Ye can take it. Go flirt with the warrior and get him to bend to yer will like everyone else does. I’m going to see mamaidh.” A whistle of air and fabric breezed past her and footsteps receded up the steps.

  Ceana drew in a breath and held it for a moment. She wished her father or their brother were here. Alec was two summers younger than herself but formed the link between the three of them. She suspected Kate was missing him sorely.

  Edging her way forward, she found the table and fumbled her way across to the edge of the tray. It would be no easy task navigating the dark steps but she was confident she could manage to serve the warrior without giving away her lack of sight. Tray in hand, she made her way to the stairwell and took them cautiously.

  It seemed it would be up to her to charm Blane—alone.

  Chapter Three

  The chamber in which he’d been placed was far more than he’d been hoping for, but Blane wouldn’t utter a word of complaint. His weary bones needed the thick blankets and soft mattress. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d slept in a proper bed. The fighting had meant much time sleeping on the ground or in castle halls on thin straw pallets—if he was lucky.

  Servants had finally made themselves known after he’d finished his meal and two lasses were pouring him a bath. If it wasn’t for his large appetite, he likely would have pushed the food aside. The way Ceana watched his every move with that unapologetic stare made his stomach bunch.

  And not with unease either.

  He liked it.

  What a fool. Blane eyed the two women, the younger one of whom had given him several encouraging smiles. She was fair enough and it had been a long time. But images of big blue eyes jostled his mind and any idea of taking the lass to bed seemed to vanish like the steam rising from the bath.

  Not wishing to give her false hope, he turned his attention to drawing off his muddy boots and placing them to one side. He perched on the edge of the bed and surveyed the room. A guest chamber apparently, though it seemed more suited to the chief of the clan with fine tapestries on every wall and a carved coffer and chair to one side. The deep red fabric about the bed appeared aged, with worn patches in the fabric, but it would have been expensive nonetheless.

  He knew little of his hostesses but he was beginning to suspect they were not so poor.

  “There ye go, sir.” The younger lass offered him that inviting smile. “Yer bath is ready. I can take yer garments to be washed if ye like.”

  “I thank ye. I’ll have them ready for ye shortly.”

  Blane had no doubt the girl would happily strip them from him but he needed to quash any ideas she might have. His appetite for a female body had been diminished mostly by Ceana. He couldn’t quite understand why but, hell, he should respect her anyway. After all, she took quite the risk offering him shelter.

  Aye, that was it. Respect. He merely wished to show her his respect. His weary body wasn’t up to much anyway. It was much better this way.

  Disappointment turned the woman’s smile into a pout, and she dipped. “As ye will, sir.”

  He sighed when she left. It wasn’t like him to turn down a willing woman, particularly not after so long without. His time had been spent travelling and fighting before travelling on and fighting some more. Blood and pain comprised his world and any pleasure was a welcome relief. He shoved a hand through his thick hair. So why could he not have taken his relief then?

  The curling
steam of the bath beckoned to him like siren’s fingers so he turned his attention to his plaid. He touched the pin that held it in place and grimaced. Mud and rain had eaten away at the metal and it protested when he tried to force it open. His big fingers were next to useless on the small pin. He’d have to break it and see if he could not ask Ceana for another.

  The door creaked open and he lifted his gaze to see Ceana enter. She stopped in the doorway, a hand to the frame. “Yer bath is poured?”

  “Aye.” He motioned to the tub but her gaze remained on the bed, just beside him. Blane glanced around to try to establish what had caught her attention but to no avail.

  “Do ye need aught else?”

  “Nay, I thank ye. Though—” he tapped the pin “—I could do with the use of yer hands.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “That is...” He coughed. “My pin. ‘Tis stuck. I need a woman’s hands to remove it I fear.”

  “Oh.” She took a cautious step forward. “Of course.”

  He stood and she inched closer. A palm landed on his chest and her gaze lifted to his. Deep down in his gut, something tugged. He shouldn’t make use of the opportunity to study her properly but he couldn’t help himself. Blane eyed the little uptilt of her nose and noted the narrow, pale scar slicing across her forehead. How had she gained that?

  Her delicate mouth drew his attention as she smoothed her hands across his plaid and her fingers came to rest upon the metal. A trail of fire seemed to follow her touch and then she pursed her lips...

  He near groaned.

  Did she have any idea how sensual she was? How her slow movements gave him a chance to admire her? How those eyes seemed to eat into his very soul as she gazed up at him? She was bold too. Never casting her gaze down when he locked on hers.

  A whisper of breath grazed his collarbone as she unpinned his plaid and pushed it from his shoulders.

  It would be so easy. A little movement and his lips would be upon hers. Would her courage continue, follow her into bed? Or would she bolt like a frightened creature? He grasped her wrist and she jerked.