Chapter Five
The dust stirred up by Sir John’s retreat was still clouding the air when Triona turned to glare at Sir Brett. “Was it necessary to goad him? Aye, e’en threaten him?”
“I didnae threaten him,” Brett said.
“Och, aye, ye did. It was more like a pinch than a blow to the head, true enough, but the threat was still there, and all heard it.”
“Good.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “I wouldnae have liked to have to repeat myself.”
If it had been at all possible, Triona would have grabbed him by those muscle-taut upper arms of his and shaken him until his teeth rattled, but she had to content herself with as fierce a glare as she could manage. “Ye made him verra angry, especially when ye so kindly told him that ye were staying to aid me and the people of Banuilt. I didnae want him to ken that.”
Brett knew it would have been far better if the man had remained ignorant of that fact for a little while longer, but he did not regret what he had said, either. He did not believe the man would have remained ignorant of his plans to help Triona for much longer anyway. In a place as devoid of strong fighting men as Banuilt, he and his companions would quickly be noticed. It would not surprise him to learn that Sir John had come to Banuilt to see the men he had already been told about. Since there was no hiding the presence of him and his men for long, he had also decided it would not hurt to let Sir John know exactly how much aid Brett could call on to help the people of Banuilt.
He found an angry Triona beguiling but knew it would be a grave mistake to tell her so. The women in his family had taught him that lesson well, at an early age. Brett could not clear his mind of thoughts of her, however. Her blue-gray eyes had darkened to the gray of storm clouds. The sunlight brought out the red and gold streaking her brown hair, making it glow with warm color. Her full lips were turned down into a scowl that he ached to kiss off her mouth.
Forcing his thoughts away from how that tempting mouth would taste, he said, “He kenned we were here. I am fair sure of it. That is exactly why he rode through the village. He was hoping to catch a glimpse of us for himself.”
“Catching sight of ye doesnae tell him much.”
Triona watched one of his neatly curved dark brows cock upward and the corners of his mouth lift just enough to hint at a smile. It was an arrogant look and one that gently scolded her for saying something so foolish. It irritated her, made her palm itch to slap it off his handsome face, but she knew it was also deserved. Sir John did need only one look at Sir Brett and his companions to know exactly what they were: the strong warriors that had been missing from Banuilt for so long.
She had needed only one look to know it. They had not even had to display their fighting skills for her to know exactly what they were from the moment they rode into her bailey. It was revealed in the way they held themselves, in the way they moved, even in that arrogance that was so irritating her at the moment. It was certainly revealed in the movement of the four men who had suddenly appeared behind Sir Brett while he had confronted Sir John and now disappeared with equal stealth at just one flick of Sir Brett’s hand. Triona just wished Sir Brett had not informed Sir John of their intent to remain at Banuilt to give her aid.
“He didnae ken for certain that ye were staying here,” she grumbled. She noticed that at some point during their talk, all the women had slipped away and started to walk back toward home. “He could have been left to think ye were naught but guests who would be leaving soon. Ye didnae have to tell him ye were here for more, and ye certainly didnae have to throw that bit of information about your horde of kin at him.”
“Why does it trouble ye so that he now kens that we mean to aid ye?” Brett asked as he fell into step beside her. “For all he kens now, that aid could be nay more than a wee training of your men. ’Tis what we told him we would do.”
“Something he doesnae want to happen. He is better served if my men stay just as they are—good, fierce fighters if they are pressed to be, but verra few having had any real training at all. If I soon have a weel-trained force of men, Sir John will find it a lot harder to weaken us little by little, as he does now—weaken us until we have nay choice but to do as he wishes, just to survive. Once I have weel-trained men, he could see us as a true threat to him and then the blood will flow.”
“Have ye considered simply selling him the land he covets so much?”
“Only for a moment. I dinnae want to, and e’en if I decided that it was the only way to put an end to this, I am nay sure I can do that. I would have to closely examine all the records Boyd had. Mayhap Sir Callum will find something when he looks them all over.” She rubbed a hand over her forehead as the hint of a headache began to form. “That wouldnae make him leave us alone anyway. ’Tis nay all he wants.”
“He wants ye.” Brett was astonished at how angry that knowledge made him.
Triona frowned and turned to look at him. The hard, cold anger behind those three words surprised her, as did the look of fury on his face. She firmly told herself that it meant no more than an honorable man’s outrage over Sir John’s attempts to force a woman to his will. It could even be an anger stirred by the manner in which Sir John was doing it, through the harming of her people. Many men would consider marriage to Sir John a reasonable outcome, and would wonder why she, a lone woman, would be so foolish as to believe she could rule Banuilt without a man at her side. And not just at her side, she thought crossly, but telling her each and every thing that she should do, and just how to do it.
Once the trouble with Sir John had begun, a few people at Banuilt had suggested that a new laird might end it, that she might consider finding herself a husband to stand up to the man. Behind their words, however, had been no hint that they thought she could not care for Banuilt or its people very well, if not better than many a man could. There had also been no hint that the man she chose to help should ever be Sir John. Her people all knew who had done most of the work managing Banuilt since not long after she had married Boyd. He had had little interest in such things as the fields, the stock, or the need to send something to the market every year. The people of Banuilt were content with her as their laird, even if few others would recognize her as such. Even the very few who were uneasy with a woman sitting in the laird’s seat preferred her to Sir John.
It was now evident that Sir Brett saw no harm in her sitting in the laird’s place. The more she thought on the matter, the more she realized that none of the men with him did, either. Triona recalled tales of the Murray women told to her by her grandmother, whose aunt’s husband’s sister’s marriage to a Murray had given the family their tenuous connection to the clan. Every single tale had shown the Murray women to be strong, standing beside their men rather than merely bowing to their authority. It would explain why Sir Brett and his men did not hesitate to accept her authority at Banuilt. Sir John never had and never would.
“Sir John believes we should be married, rejoining the lands and placing him as laird over it all,” she said, seeing no reason to deny the truth. “I suspicion that he sees that as the easiest way to retrieve the land the king gave to that old laird of Banuilt. And Banuilt’s ancient lands as weel, lands far more fertile than the ones surrounding Gormfeurach.”
“And he gets ye in his bed. I suspicion he has wanted that for a verra long time as weel.”
Triona shook her head and started walking again, idly studying the trees as she walked the road that ran through them, noting that work was needed here as well. The undergrowth had been left to grow too thick, and there were trees that could be harvested, new ones planted. Boyd’s first wife’s grandfather had left very precise records and advice on caring for the woods, ones that she had followed closely. Boyd had found her diligence amusing, and acted as if he kindly indulged her when he allowed her to follow his first wife’s grandfather’s teachings. She was abruptly pulled from her thoughts when Sir Brett grabbed her by the hand and forced her, gently but firmly, to halt and look at him again.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“Aside from this matter with Sir John, who tries to beggar Banuilt and force ye to wed with him?” Brett did not like how angry that made him, for it meant that she had touched him in some way in which he had not been touched in a very long time, and done so in but two days. But he could not smother the anger churning within him. “Ye dinnae see it, do ye?”
“Of course I see it,” she snapped. “I see it every time we put out another fire or lose more of our cattle or sheep. I am nay blind.”
“Ah, but ye are. It isnae just this land that mon is trying to steal. As I said, he wants ye, too.”
“Only because it is the easiest and most thorough way for him to grab hold of Banuilt. It may be mine, but once a mon lays claim to me, he will have a claim to Banuilt in most people’s eyes. Sir John sees it as a way to get all he covets without making anyone question him or grow angry with him.”
“Anyone being your liege laird.”
“Aye. That mon may nay like the fact that a woman now rules here, but so long as I maintain the alliance we have with him, sending him men and supplies when he needs them, he willnae move to change things. Sir John found that out quickly enough.”
“He asked your liege laird for permission to wed ye and take hold of Banuilt?”
“Aye, but I gather it isnae a thing he can grant, or he just didnae want to. He told Sir John that Boyd had named me his heir, and that was agreed to so long as I upheld the agreement between Banuilt and him. I was surprised and I am nay sure I trust in that reason, but until I can see exactly what is said in Boyd’s papers, or your cousin Callum—who may have more expertise than I do in checking the contracts made and legalities of my rights as laird of Banuilt—finds out, I must accept that.”
“Ye seem surprised that your husband would name ye the heir.”
“Och, aye, as he ne’er appeared to think me worth all that much because I didnae give him the son he craved. He did leave a verra fine dower for Ella, too, or rather made certain I understood that there should be one. ’Tis evident that Banuilt is one of those places that can go where the owner wishes it to. I would like to think my husband left it to me because he recognized the work I did here, but I think not. He just did as has always been done here, or mayhap to pay me back in some way for the money I brought him. There was no son to name heir and he would ne’er have considered leaving it all to a wee girl child, so he left it all to me.”
“Did ye nay consider that Sir John may recognize the work ye have done here and want your skill as weel as your land? His is a poorer keep, aye?”
“Only a wee bit poorer. Weel, when all is weel and we dinnae have to deal with fields burned and stock stolen.” She frowned. “I just cannae see Sir John recognizing my work, either. He has that same ill opinion of women that my husband had to some extent and our priest certainly had. If he thought what was good about Banuilt was my work, he would have to believe I was capable of more than planning what to set on the table and making a bairn or two. I dinnae think he does, nay about any woman.”
She was right in one way, but Brett did not completely dismiss the idea that Sir John was aware of the work she had done. The man might accredit it all to guidance by her husband or lessons taught by her father or some other man, but Brett could not believe even the man’s prejudices concerning women could completely blind him to who had done most of the work at Banuilt. If nothing else, Sir John would have known Sir Boyd well enough to know the man’s failings and strengths.
Sir John’s insults needed answering, but Brett had held his tongue. Despite presenting himself and making it clear that he and his men were helping Triona, he knew pushing too hard could cost her. Her men were not ready for a true fight with Grant. Nor were they prepared to protect Banuilt much more than they were now, from damage to their sources of food. Until some work had been done to get her men stronger and better able to fight, he had to be careful. That did not mean he could not continue to search out any and all information about the man.
Brett carefully moved closer to Triona, nearly smiling when she stepped back and ended up against the trunk of a tree. “I think he kens that ye are the one doing the work here and have been for a while. He may make many an excuse for it, giving credit to some mon for most of it, but he kens it. I suspicion he has wondered how ye might help Gormfeurach to prosper.”
“Weel, now that ye have told him what ye mean to do, he will be wondering how to end that,” she said, growing angry all over again. “I truly think it would have been best if he had remained ignorant of your promise to help us, at least for a little while longer.”
“Mayhap, but I dinnae think so. He was here to see us, to see me and my companions and get a closer look. I would wager his men mentioned us and that stirred his curiosity. It matters not. What’s done is done. Ye couldnae have expected me to stand silently in the shadows whilst he insulted and nay-so-subtly threatened ye, could ye?”
“Aye, I could. He does that all the time.”
“Weel, he can stop now!”
There was a hard note to his voice that made her shiver. The way Sir John had spoken to her had angered this man, and she found that both strange and intoxicating. She could think of no other man who had ever gotten angry on her behalf. Triona was a little surprised that she could find something like that so deeply attractive. It was not something she should become accustomed to, however, or depend upon. Sir Brett would not be a part of her life for long.
“I doubt he will. He thinks like too many other men do and he willnae change. ’Tis why I will do all I can to ne’er have to marry the fool.”
Brett placed his hand on the trunk near her head, lightly caging her between him and the tree. “Did ye ne’er consider it? It must have made ye pause for but a moment, to think on how much easier it would be for ye if there was help from another, from him and his men.”
“Nay, not even for a moment. I ken the mon. He visited Banuilt many times when my husband was still alive. I have also heard what has been said about him by his own men. My husband may have been passionless, humorless, and so pious he would make a nun feel like a sinner, but he was e’en of temper and ne’er raised a hand to me. I kenned, from the first moment I met Sir John years ago, that he would think nothing of beating his wife. Most of what his men say about him confirms my first thought—that Sir John is quick to anger and quick to inflict pain when he is angry.”
She had grown into womanhood under the rule of such a man, and she refused to step back beneath the hard rule of another. It was not something Sir Brett Murray needed to know, however. Triona had to admit she would also feel a little embarrassed if he knew how she had suffered under her father’s rule.
Triona looked to the side when Brett rested his other hand beside her head. It brought his body so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of him. She looked from his hands to his face, frowning in response to the gleam of amusement in his eyes.
“I think we had best return to the manor now,” she said, yet did not seem inclined to move despite how much she told herself she should.
“In a moment.”
He did not wait for her to think long on what was about to happen but just kissed her. Brett brushed his lips over hers, savoring their soft warmth. He quickly recognized that she was not a woman well experienced in kissing, and silently cursed her husband. For her sake only, however, for a part of him was pleased that he might be able to give her something her husband never had. A woman married to a man for six years who did not know how to kiss was a woman who had suffered a cold bed, and he could show her heat, he was certain of it.
Triona trembled and then fought to go still. His mouth on hers was so warm and surprisingly soft for such a big, hard man. The way he stroked her lips with his, teased them with his tongue, had a fire starting low in her belly. Before she even thought about what she was doing, she grasped his jupon in her hands to cling tightly to him. The way he nudged at her lips with his tongue confused her for a moment, and then she cautiously parted her lips.
Shock swept through her when he plunged his tongue into her mouth and began to stroke the inside. Nothing had ever made her feel so alive, so excited yet afraid at the same time. She wanted more, wanted to get even closer to him, and yet also wanted to pull away and run. It was almost too much to endure.
When he pulled away, she stared at him, dazed. Then he tilted his head a little and smiled. It was such a satisfied, manly smile that she was torn out of her bemused state quickly enough to make her head spin. Triona fought to pull her dignity together, stiffened her spine, and pushed him back away from her.
Giving him a look she hoped told him exactly how improperly he had behaved, Triona marched off toward the manor. She would have liked to have left him with some sharp, scathing words, but she feared her voice would reveal how very far from angry she was. The fact that she could even walk steadily astonished her, because her whole body still trembled from the force of all that his kiss had made her feel. Triona had never been kissed like that. Boyd had pressed his mouth to hers from time to time, especially when he was wooing her, but he had never put his tongue into her mouth. She would have wondered what the man was about, except that she had seen others kiss like that.
She arrived at the manor and was nearly to the door of her bedchamber before her heart stopped pounding and her blood cooled. She went inside and walked straight to the bowl of washing water. It was cold, but that was just what she needed. After splashing some of the chilled water on her face and pushing away the last of the heat in her blood, she wiped her face and then flopped down on her back on the bed.
The sensible part of her told her that any kissing of Sir Brett could not happen again, that anything that made her blood run so hot was dangerous and should be avidly avoided by any woman who wished to remain pious. A greater part of her wanted to do it again. That had been passion. That had been what made Joan blush like a maiden whenever her Aiden winked at her. That was what she had hoped to find in her own husband’s arms, only to be bitterly disappointed.
She was going to have to think about this, Triona decided. Think long and hard. The man was not going to stay at Banuilt forever, was not wooing her for a wife, and so she had to consider how kissing him would appear to her people. Joan seemed to think she worried too much about appearances, yet it was important. For her to be the laird the people of Banuilt needed, they had to respect her, and people often showed very little respect for women who went about kissing men who were not their betrothed or their husband.
And that kiss had made her want far more than just another kiss. There was an ache in her body that cried out for more. Triona was astonished that she would ever want to try bedding a man again, and yet she was sure that was what her body craved. She also could not stop wondering how it would feel to bed down with Sir Brett. What she needed to do was decide just how much she was willing to risk to enjoy another kiss, or more.
Brett grinned as he watched her walk away, her nicely rounded hips swaying with each angry step. Her kiss had been sweet, all he could have imagined it would be. Even better, there had been no ghost, no hint of Brenda’s specter. He had not even scented his old love’s perfume.
He took a few deep breaths to clear away the lust clouding his mind and began to walk toward the manor. Triona McKee had a lot of passion hidden inside her body, and he wanted to taste it all. Brett began to wonder just how long it would take to seduce her.
His conscience suddenly reared its unwelcome head and he softly cursed. Lady Triona McKee was a respectable widow, a laird, and a woman troubled by a neighbor who was trying to force her into marriage so that he could grab her lands. It would be unkind of him to play the game of seduction with such a woman. Triona had more than enough trouble to deal with.
The problem was, his body wanted her and did not care about such considerations. Brett doubted he would ignore any other chance he found to kiss her and hold her nicely curved body close to his. He tried to comfort his conscience by reminding it that he had no designs on the woman’s lands, would never force her into marriage to steal the laird’s seat from her, but he knew it would still be wrong to try to seduce her.
Despite her years of marriage, Brett was confident that Triona was innocent of a lot that could be shared between a man and a woman. That, too, tempted him. He wanted to be the one to show her all the pleasure they could share, pleasure he was certain her pious, passionless husband had never given her.
“And wasnae that a waste,” he muttered as he walked through the gates.
“What is a waste?” asked Callum.
Brett turned to see the younger man leaning up against one of the open gate doors watching him. There was a look in Callum’s eyes that told Brett he might well have seen him kissing Triona. There was a hint of anger there. It annoyed Brett to be condemned for his actions, even silently, and yet he also appreciated how Callum already felt the need to stand as Triona’s protector.
“I was just thinking that m’lady’s husband wasted his years with his wife,” Brett said. “She called him passionless, pious, and humorless. I suspect that describes not only her husband but her whole marriage. The man was a fool if I am right. He was wed to a fair wee lass who is none of those things.”
“She is, however, a good woman, one with a heavy burden to carry,” said Callum.
“I ken it.” He sighed and stared at the heavy wooden doors leading into the large manor house. “I ken, too, that she had a cold marriage and now has a bastard trying to force her into what would be a hard marriage with a hard mon.”
“Yet ye try to seduce her.”
“Nay, not yet. I but kissed her. I want to seduce her, but it appears my conscience is wrestling with my desires and I am nay sure which one will win yet.”
“At least ye ken it would be wrong.”
“By most people’s thinking, aye, but I am nay sure it would be wrong. She is, after all, a widow of five and twenty.”
“True enough, and such a one is often just the sort of woman a mon could comfortably sate his lusts on, but I believe Lady Triona is no worldly widow who could take a lover and be at ease with it.”
“I believe she worries over losing the respect of her people if she does take a lover, nay her own heart. She doesnae see that the people here all love her. To them she is Banuilt. She may have been little more than a child when she came here, but she quickly became all to these people. What happened during and after the fever tore through the village and manor only confirmed that in their minds and hearts.” He held up a hand to silence the words Callum was about to speak. “I will nay put that at risk for her, so I will make sure of my opinion ere I decide what to do. Just ken this—I badly want the lass and she wants me. Neither of us is too young or too innocent to nay ken our own minds. I will also ne’er promise her anything I cannae give and will make her understand that ere I do anything.”
“Fair enough, for ye are right. Ye are both grown and she isnae some virgin lass.”
Brett started for the manor and Callum fell into step beside him. “What did ye think of Sir John?” he asked.
“Arrogant bastard, and ye are right. If she is forced to take him as her husband, to save these people, she will find herself wed to a hard mon and one, I think, who will fully try to break her to his will. He will probably have nay trouble bedding her, but he sees her as nay more than a key to these doors.”
“Find out all ye can about him. He has powerful friends and she cannae get their liege laird to take her word over Sir John’s. He has to have a weakness, something we may be able to use to change their liege’s opinion of the mon. Proof of his crimes would be better, but anything to lessen his advantage o’er her will help.”
“That I can do. Dinnae worry. I needed but one look at the mon to ken that he would be poison for Banuilt and e’en more so for Lady Triona.”
Brett thoroughly agreed with that assessment. Sir John would crush Triona’s spirit until she was no more than a shadow of what she had been. He may not have the most honorable intentions toward Triona and her lush little body, but he was determined to see that she never had to suffer the hell that would be marriage to a man like Sir John Grant.