“I’ve done no such thing,” Cora defended herself.
Brynna smiled. “He’s nearly tripping over his own feet in a rush to get ye away from here.” She scraped the bowl again. “There is only one reason a man like him would be in such a state.”
Cora had just filled her mouth. She swallowed too fast and ended up feeling like her throat was stretched. “Nonsense.”
But Gainor appeared in the doorway. “Chief says to hurry.”
The McKay Retainer had a resigned look on his face. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he savored the scent of the kitchen. When he let his breath out, it was a long, low sound of lament.
Cora struggled to keep her face from betraying her feelings as she dressed for travel. Her temper came to the rescue, flickering to life as she walked toward the doorway. Faolan was there, working to saddle a mare.
It was time to go.
Logically it was a sound idea.
So why did she feel so torn? Like leaving the tower was nearly impossible to endure?
Gainor and the other McKay Retainers were clustered around the yard. They appeared so forlorn, even the stern look Faolan sent them wasn’t enough to make them disperse.
Their chief’s determination didn’t make much of a difference, though. They watched as Cora and Brynna came down the last few steps and mounted. They tugged on their caps before Faolan, and two other Retainers led them out of the yard. They set a brisk pace. But the mare took to it, clearly hoping to reach a warm stable before nightfall.
Cora looked back at the tower. It was stark and remote. But so very essential. No one would be able to pull boats up onto the beach below without being seen. Riders might be sent toward the main McKay stronghold while the tower would keep the men manning it safe until the McKay Retainers might return to defend their ground. In the spring, when ships sailed toward the north countries and others came down toward England, such a defense was necessary.
A lonely duty.
It had truly been her privilege to share it.
She straightened up in the saddle, lifting her face up so the wind dried the tears flooding her eyes. Faolan hadn’t asked for her to stay.
Do ye want him to ask ye?
She pondered it long and hard along the ride toward the stronghold. Why shouldn’t she think it over? She had never felt so jumbled. The sheer intensity of her emotions fascinated her. It was as though she’d been living inside an egg and just emerged in the last couple of days to discover that there was an entire world beyond what she knew. Desires and needs were like seeds inside her that wanted to grow stronger until she opened her wings and fledged like an eaglet.
Spreading her wings to fly.
At last, she realized that the outing to see Rolfe had, in fact, had a profound effect upon her. Perhaps not in the way her brother might have hoped for. There was no spark of attraction between her and the Munro laird. What Cora had discovered was an end to her patience. She was contracted to Cormac Grant? Well, since the man had not sent her even a single letter, she would demand an end to the matter. She’d make it known she was accepting suit and see who came to meet her. Or at least sent letters of introduction so she might be matched with someone she’d be content with.
Her choice was firmly made. She felt lighter, and yet, she couldn’t stop herself from staring at Faolan’s back. The odd fascination she had for him was still there. In spite of the sting from her pride over the haste in which he was taking her down to the McKay stronghold.
To be rid of ye…
Oh, aye. He’d made no excuses.
So why couldn’t she dismiss him as easily in return?
*
Even in the dark, the McKay stronghold was formidable.
The clouds cleared away enough for moonlight to show Cora no less than five towers. There was a huge curtain wall running between them. She could see the flicker of lanterns along the top of the wall. The gate was open, allowing Faolan to ride through.
The inner courtyard was brighter thanks to several fires burning. A large cart of peat cakes was waiting to keep those fires going through the night. The scent of manure from those cakes wasn’t pleasing, but the light was welcome indeed.
“The laird did no’ send for ye, Chief.”
Faolan had dismounted before the McKay Retainer spoke.
“Aye,” Faolan replied as he turned to help Cora off her mare. “I’ve a matter which required me to ride down.”
“Ye should have sent a massive first.”
“With the snow beginning so early, I did nae care to risk getting stuck,” Faolan continued.
Cora felt a tingle touch her nape. There was clearly tension between the Retainer and Faolan.
Had Faolan been banished to the remote tower for some crime?
She really should have pondered that question before. Now though, she discovered herself annoyed by the tone the Retainer was using. Faolan had rough edges, but he had seen to her care.
Faolan held onto her upper arm. He guided her up the steps and into the largest of the towers.
“Here now.” The Retainer chased after them. “Ye will be waiting on the laird’s permission before ye come into the hall.”
Faolan made a sound under his breath before he was turning and heading toward a small passageway. It led to a long room built into the base of the curtain wall. There were some chairs and a few tables inside it but most importantly, there was only the one opening which allowed any persons in or out of it. If the heavy door was closed, they’d be sealed tight inside it. Such a place was common in strongholds, for it served as a good receiving room where whoever arrived might be kept until their motivations for entering the castle might be examined.
“Stay here, Chief McKay,” the Retainer warned ominously.
He disappeared a moment later.
“And I thought the weather was icy up at yer tower,” Cora remarked. “It seems far more frigid here if ye ask me.”
“Do nae get involved, lass.”
Faolan’s tone was brittle. He’d stopped a few paces from her, placing himself between her and the doorway. His frame was stiff, and he had his jaw set as he waited.
“Are ye condemned to that tower for some reason?” Cora asked in spite of the warning.
He turned his head so he was looking at her. “Isn’t it a bit late to be asking me that question, lass?”
“Do nae sound so condescending,” Cora admonished him. “What would it have served to think ill of ye when I was tossed at yer feet shivering? Should I have been so naïve as to not see ye pulled me back from the grip of death?”
He walked closer. Once again, she noticed how silent his steps were. In the dark, she’d never hear him, never know he was closing the distance between them until he was too close for her to escape.
Cora shook her head. She was being ridiculous.
But there was a glint in his eyes when he took that last step, and their gazes met. “You would have done better to remain in the Mackenzie stronghold and wait for yer brother to arrange the details of yer marriage.”
Cora felt her temper warming. “So, I’d arrive to me new home a weakling who did nae have a clue as to how to stand up for meself?”
Faolan tilted his head slightly. “A man should take care of a bride.”
Cora snorted. “A man strong enough to maintain his hold on a Highland clan lairdship would no’ need some sniveling kitten for a wife. Why do so many men make that error? Ye are always praising the timid, when such a girl will never be able to stand on her own when ye are seeing to yer responsibilities. All that will get ye is a whimpering wife who will nag ye the moment ye have a spare moment for her. I am proud to no’ be like that.”