She let out a little hiss before she turned around and marched toward the door. A glass of warm milk would settle her down. A stronghold the size of the McKay one would have enough milk to last throughout the day.
“Ye are far too impulsive, Cora.”
She yelped.
It was an instant reaction to the way Faolan’s voice came from the darkness just outside the door to her chamber. The landing wasn’t very large, but the end of it was dark. The McKay chief materialized, walking forward on those silent steps of his until the light from behind her illuminated him.
“Christ’s wounds!” Cora exclaimed. “What are ye doing here, Faolan McKay?”
“A better question is, where are ye heading at this late hour?”
The chilly reception Faolan had received from Laird McKay hadn’t affected his confidence. His tone was edged with authority just as it always had been.
“Why are ye here?” she demanded again.
Faolan’s jaw tightened. He wasn’t precisely given to keeping his face in a pleasant expression, but she still noted the way his eyes narrowed with irritation.
“You,” he pointed at her, “have a persistent habit of going belowstairs after dark even though I have warned ye against it more than once. ’Tis the truth, I’m thinking of riding down to Mackenzie land just to have a bit of a discussion with yer brother over how lax his upbringing was of ye. Why he’s allowed ye to ride out with his Retainers is something I cannae understand.”
“Me brother wanted to grant me the chance to meet Rolfe Munro,” Cora said. “It was an act of compassion, to no’ force me to wed a man who has no’ even sent me a single letter in spite of the betrothal binding us together for more than a decade.”
Faolan tilted his head slightly to the side. He appeared to bite back whatever it was he’d been intent on saying. Cora felt her cheeks heat.
“Well, now ye know the truth of the matter,” she mumbled, uncertain as to just why she was sharing such personal details. “Me brother is kind to me.”
“Kindness is no’ always the wisest path, lass,” Faolan remarked. But there was a hint of relenting in his tone.
More like pity…
Cora lifted her chin. “And ye think I am so muddled headed as to not understand the ways of the world?” Cora inquired. “I assure ye, Faolan McKay, I do, and I’ll face them without a quibble.”
Faolan wasn’t put off by her tone. She was being harsh at best, shrewish at worst.
But at least ye are not whimpering…
“If ye truly understood, Cora, lass.” Faolan stepped closer. “Ye would have made certain the bar was secure across the door, and no’ moved it until the sun was up and ye had plenty of maids to stand as yer witnesses. Betrothal or no’, there will be no wedding if yer reputation is tarnished.”
Cora propped her hand onto her hip. “As if there is anyone in this stronghold who would go against the laird and lady of their clan.”
His lips twitched. For a moment, his lips settled into a grin. It was one that told her he was enjoying her display of stubbornness.
Lord, what that knowledge did to her.
Like tossing oil onto open flames. She felt the response flare up inside her, burning away at her resolve to remain aloof and cool beneath his hard stare. For a moment, their gazes locked. Cora felt like the very ground she stood on shifted. Her insides twisted in a crazy little motion, which made her gasp.
The sound seemed overly loud. Or perhaps it was better to say it unmasked her. Betraying her lack of composure. Something flickered in his eyes, which made her roll her lips in because they were suddenly too dry and sensitive.
His gaze lowered to her mouth.
Somehow, Cora had never really realized how long a single moment might last. She felt suspended between heartbeats. Waiting for something. Anticipation gripping her so tightly, she might well be crushed by it, but she found herself craving to know just how much more intense her feelings might become.
*
“Ye are the finest-blooded mare in me stable.”
Malcolm grinned on his way out of his wife’s chambers. Noreen was indeed blue-blooded. One of her relatives had even been a royal princess. Such was one of the many reasons he’d wed her. For the advantage her family line would add to his. Making his claim on the lairdship stronger than his half-brother, Faolan.
But Noreen had disappointed him.
Twice.
Malcolm ground his teeth as he opened the outer door and found two of his Retainers standing there. Both were loyal to him and the best men to have watch his back when he was distracted. They reached up and tugged on the corner of their caps before falling into step behind him as he made his way down from the tower Noreen lived in.
Of course, loyalty had limits in any man. It was something to be traded for position and security.
His daughters were a growing source of discontent among his clansmen. There were plenty of them who had favored Faolan as laird. Malcolm had emerged victorious when the time had come for votes to be cast, but now, some of the men were rethinking the matter. Five years was a long time, and as no sons arrived, there were doubts rising. The whispers in the dark passageways were growing stronger that his lack of a male heir was a sign of God’s disapproval. The source of his clan’s worry was that he’d leave the clan in a bloody fight when he died because there was no clear heir.
Malcolm wasn’t planning on vacating the position any time soon.
He chuckled as he made his way through the dark passageways of his stronghold.
It was his.
Noreen had helped him secure it. Malcolm grinned. She was ambitious, with just the right amount of ruthlessness in her. Of course, he had more. But such was the nature of a man.
Cora Mackenzie was strong. The red hair on her head matched the fire in her eyes. She might not boast royal blood, but as the only sibling of the Mackenzie laird, she was a fine candidate for a bride.
Malcolm felt his member stir.
She’d give him a son.
In the darkness, there was little to hold back his desires. Were they sinful? Aye. Yet he didn’t much care, and even the faint flicker of hellfire he felt on the back of his neck was welcome, for it cut the chill.
Aye, Noreen, had failed him. Why wait for her to deliver another daughter? Such would be another nail in his coffin as his men looked to replace him with Faolan.
Fortune favored the bold, after all.
Cora was in his stronghold without any of her kin to watch over her. Her brother Buchanan should have kept her on a tighter leash, for the world was full of men who were looking for an opportunity to get ahead.
Malcolm was one of them.
He didn’t spare a thought for apologizing either. Cora was a prize mare and had been since her birth. Cormac Grant was a fool for not having claimed her while he had the chance. Malcolm would not make the same mistake. Now, while the night was darkest, Cora was his for the taking. Much like a lamb to a wolf. He turned and headed toward the stairs. By dawn’s light, Cora would know her place and keep her mouth shut about just how she’d ended up in his bed, for Cormac Grant wouldn’t want her with Malcolm’s seed already spilled inside her.
And Noreen?
Well, Malcolm didn’t spare much time when it came to pondering his wife’s fate. She’d failed in her primary duty. If she went quietly to an abbey with her useless daughters, so be it. If not, he’d see her buried with the rest of his ancestors before he took Cora as his wife. His daughters could follow in time because he’d not allow them to wed and perform as their mother had. His mind was set.