*
One of the Retainers at Malcolm’s back didn’t climb the stairs.
Donald McKay had four sisters, and his father had died young, leaving his mother dependent on her position in the castle. A place the lady of the manor reigned supreme over. He turned and went to the north tower, climbing the steps quickly. There were no good reasons why Malcolm McKay might be heading up to where Cora Mackenzie slept.
It was the sort of information that could see his mother and sisters secure in the ranking of the household servants. There would be good pay and warm beds for them if the mistress was pleased about the news he delivered. Donald might know more about how to handle a sword than he did about mathematics, but it didn’t take a formal education to deduce that Malcolm McKay was about to take a bite out of the sweet young lass residing inside his keep without any chaperones.
And once he had a taste, he’d want more for certain.
Donald laid his fist on the outer door of the chambers Noreen slept in. Her personal waiting-woman pulled it open a few moments later.
“I need the mistress.” Donald pushed past her.
Half asleep, the woman only sputtered as he crossed the receiving chamber floor. “Mistress,” he announced himself, “I thought it best to tell ye where yer husband is headed while something might be done about it.”
Noreen sat up. Her hair was mussed, but her eyes narrowed as she focused on him.
“Continue, and turn around,” she ordered as she snapped her fingers at her waiting-woman to come and help her out of the huge bed.
*
Faolan was a full head taller than herself.
It wasn’t the first time Cora had noted the size of the man, but now, she had to lift her chin up so she might maintain eye contact with him. He was trying to intimidate her. Sending a stern look at her meant to bend her to his will.
She wouldn’t.
In some part of her mind, she recognized that she was being stubborn, just to prove she had the strength to stand up to him. But as for the rest of her motivations, Cora honestly didn’t know why she was so determined to dig in, only that bending was absolutely unacceptable.
She’d never show him weakness.
So, she ordered herself to stand in place as he closed the space between them once more. She felt him getting closer. Would swear she felt his body heat on her face. The night was suddenly far from chilly. It was balmy, and her clothing too thick.
“Ye should know when to yield, Cora,” Faolan muttered. “Stay in this chamber. It’s for the best.”
His last few words were spoken in a different tone. One that appealed to her rational thinking. Refusing to be weak was one thing, rushing foolishly into the unknown quite another.
“It isn’t a sin to want to be my own woman, Faolan.”
He tilted his head to one side. She caught a glimpse of agreement in his eyes, but he clamped his jaw tight against allowing any words to escape his lips.
“I’ll wager ye landed at that tower because ye refused to bend.” Cora couldn’t quite stop the words from escaping.
Her statement was a challenge. But she didn’t regret speaking.
“He refused to do what had to be done when a position such as laird is being fought over,” a new voice rose from the darkness beyond the doorway.
Faolan placed his hand against her shoulder and pushed her back into the room before rotating around to face his brother. Cora went skidding across the receiving chamber, fighting to maintain her footing.
“I suppose I should no’ be surprised to see ye here.”
From the dark stairwell, Malcolm McKay emerged. His teeth were bared as he glared at Faolan.
“Even a man such as ye.” Malcolm sneered. “Clinging to his honor like a nun to her hymen, well, ye still want a taste of this sweet little lass.”
“If I had such intentions,” Faolan began, “I would have kept her at me tower. Do nae smear me with the same blackness ye allow to color yer own soul. I am a man of clear conscience.”
“And yet, ye are here, Faolan.” Malcolm opened his arms up wide. “There is only one reason for a man to be here at this hour.”
“A man like you could only be here for one reason, sure enough,” Faolan grunted. A moment later, there was the hard sound of flesh hitting flesh. Malcolm disappeared from sight, a hard punch from Faolan sending him back into the stairwell.
“Ye must not.” Cora lunged forward. She caught the sleeve of his shirt, hooking the linen fabric hard in an attempt to pull him back.
Faolan turned a furious look on her. Rage flickered in his eyes, stunning her with just how hot it blazed.
“He came to put hands on ye Cora,” Faolan informed her bluntly.
It wasn’t so much his words that made her fingers go slack. No, it was the intensity of the emotion on Faolan’s face. He wanted to protect her, and the knowledge hit her hard, sinking so deeply into her, she was certain it touched her heart.
“Do nae pretend ye are here for anything else.” Malcolm surged up from the darkness like a demon. He rammed into Faolan, shoving him brutally into the room. Cora recoiled, moving aside just as the pair of them tumbled past her.
“I am no’ like ye, Malcolm,” Faolan hissed. He turned and flung Malcolm off him. The McKay laird stumbled a few steps before recovering.
“No, ye are not. Which is why I am laird.” Malcolm sneered. As his lips pulled away from his teeth, Cora caught sight of the blood coating them. The McKay laird chuckled as he circled his half-brother.
“Ye had the chance to fight for the lairdship. Ye conceded, so the spoils are mine.”
Faolan was shifting position. He kept his attention on Malcolm but placed himself between the McKay laird and her. Fear clawed at her insides. But it wasn’t for herself. Cora hadn’t spared a thought for the fact that Malcolm was likely there to force himself on her. No, what consumed her was that Malcolm was laird, and the stronghold was under his control.
“Stop fighting.” Cora tried to end the confrontation.
Malcolm looked past Faolan at her. “Easily done. Tell him that ye prefer me.” Malcolm shifted his attention to Faolan. “It won’t be the first time I’ve taken yer woman, will it now?”
“I will do no such thing!” Cora hissed.
“Of course, she will not.” Noreen made her entrance with a firm tone and a small army of matrons. The lady of the McKay had clearly roused half the senior kitchen staff. They flowed around her and into the chamber.
“It’s clear enough what is going on here, husband,” Noreen declared stiffly.
Malcolm’s frowned bitterly, but with so many eyes upon him, he drew himself up and reined in his temper. Half the clan was made up of women. Something any laird would be foolish to overlook. “Is it, wife?”
Noreen drew in a breath. “Aye. Such things happen…when precautions aren’t taken.” She ventured closer to Cora. “One of the reasons unmarried girls should stay close to home is to avoid difficult situations such as…this.”
There were nods from the women watching. At the entrance to the chamber, McKay Retainers were clustered on the landing outside the doorway. They strained to get a look at what was happening inside the chamber.
Cora found herself wondering if the floor might take the weight of so many people. But Noreen clicked her tongue, and the sound sent a shiver down Cora’s neck.