The Devil of Jedburgh Read online

  “I’ll never take you in anger.” He pulled away, only so far as to meet her frozen gaze. His fingers tangled gently in her hair as he rubbed her nape. “Those words I spoke…’twas meant to scare you, to open your eyes to the world of men you think to take on with a daunting boldness and little care. Thank your guardian angel I’m not a man of that world.”

  As tender as his touch was, the glint darkening his eyes to pewter warned otherwise. Every muscle in his face seemed to be set in stone.

  Breghan whispered hoarsely, “You never wanted me and—”

  His head came down, his mouth claiming the rest of her words in another sweeping kiss that ended with him murmuring at her ear, “Never make the mistake of thinking I dinna want you, Bree.”

  This time, when he drew his mouth away, he pressed his body close enough for Breghan to feel the length of hardness throbbing against her belly. Her bones went slack and the glass in her hand tilted enough to trickle its contents to the floor.

  “Taking you into my bed has naught to do with taking you to wife, and I want the one almost as much as I canna want the other.”

  Breghan was too aware of their intimate position, too aware of the heat flushing up her throat and the sudden tingling spreading throughout her body to be suitably outraged. Oh, she knew exactly what he was saying. She was good enough to bed but not good enough to wed.

  Maybe it was the relief of his promise, or perhaps the lingering touch of his lips. His fingers were still massaging behind her neck. He seemed to have found a spot that sent a weakness behind her knees, and perhaps it was that as well.

  Arran stepped back, bringing his hand down from the wall. “I will never harm you. I have sworn to protect you and my duty will exceed my wrath each and every time. Trust in me, Bree.”

  She already did, Breghan realised belatedly. She never would have put her life into his keeping for a year otherwise.

  He stopped massaging and slid his hand from her neck.

  As the tingling sensation ceased, her confusion returned.

  “No mercy.” Breghan wrapped her arms around her waist, the now empty glass tucked into her side, and frowned up at him. “You said I’d be needing my strength and you’d show me no mercy.”

  “Aye, we have a hard day’s riding ahead. I intend to leave first thing in the morning and be home by nightfall.”

  Before she could chastise herself for always believing the worst of Arran Kerr, he reached in and plucked the glass from her fingers.

  “Next time, come speak to me instead of hiding behind false smiles and running off to drown your fear. A lady sodden with strong liquor is unattractive and I willna tolerate it.”

  Well! She slipped around him and marched from the room. She should have known better than to start thinking nice thoughts on Arran Kerr.

  Tristan caught her as she was leaving and coaxed her into a sedate country dance. Callum took over as soon as the music changed. He flung her in the air so many times, she was soon breathless and laughing.

  As he set her down for the last time, a strong pair of hands fit on her waist. Arran’s distinct oak burr came from behind. “May I interrupt?”

  Callum gave her an audacious wink before turning away.

  “You needn’t feel obliged.” Breghan spun out of his grasp to face him.

  “I don’t.” He took her hand and walked her from the dance floor. “The men are rumbling about a public bedding.”

  “But…we’re not even married.” Her stomach lurched. “Papa will never—”

  “Broderick and I have a plan to keep them otherwise occupied.” He stopped walking when they reached the high table where her mother and Magellan had their heads close together. Lillian looked up when Arran said loudly, “Now might be a good time to retire. We’ve an early start and Breghan didna get much sleep last night.”

  “Magellan and I will attend you, darling.” Lillian stood, offering Arran a small smile as she led the way with Magellan a step behind.

  Breghan needed no persuasion to seek her bed while Arran was otherwise occupied. She held back only long enough to assure him, “My eyes will close the moment I’m off my feet.”

  He lowered his head to speak at her ear. “Your rest will not be disturbed tonight.”

  When he pulled back, she caught the end of his mocking grin. She was too relieved to take offence.

  Chapter Six

  When Breghan awoke, the dawn had already come and gone. She quickly completed her ablutions, grateful that Arran had let her sleep in after his threats to leave at first light. Once she’d tied her hair back into a loose braid, she donned the forest-green velvet gown set aside last night and spread the matching cloak over her bed. The fluttering low in her belly was ever prevalent, a constant reminder of the vast unknown she was rushing into. Indeed, it felt as if she’d been racing to keep ahead of a nasty storm these past two days and if she stopped now, she’d be caught up in the worst of it.

  At the entrance to the great hall, she discovered the cause of Arran’s chivalry. The floor was littered with bodies, sprawled as they’d dropped in their sodden state. The sight wasn’t unfamiliar, although the men usually managed to pull a pallet and blanket from the stack before falling down. McAllen men-at-arms and her brothers always slept here in the hall. This morning many of the men from the village and crofts added to the numbers and packed the floor even tighter.

  As she picked her way across the mass of snoring, grunting men, she saw Arran propped against a wall, his head lolling on his shoulder, his eyes closed and an empty tankard dangling from one hand.

  A lady sodden with strong liquor is unattractive and I willna tolerate it. Well, she could say the same about a gentleman, but then he was no gentleman and she’d never imagined otherwise.

  Casting a glance around, her father and most of her brothers accounted for, she continued down the two steps into the kitchens. Her mother, her aunt Mary and Eliza were seated at the wooden table with bowls of oat porridge in front of them. After greeting them a good morn, Breghan declared, “Given my uninterrupted night, I gather Arran executed his grand plan to distract the men before he passed out from drink.”

  Lillian smiled up at her. “But darling, that was his grand plan. He diluted the whiskey with ale and promised two crowns to the man who could consume more tankards than him.”

  “That’s a fortune,” Eliza gasped.

  “Who won the two crowns?” Mary asked, her eyes twinkling with humour.

  “Would they even remember?” Breghan said drolly as she went to scoop a helping of porridge from one of the three large kettles hanging in the blazing kitchen hearth. She put herself down beside Mary and added a generous dollop of honey to sweeten the oats. “Arran wanted to depart at dawn and ride hard all day. I should douse him with cold water as a small reminder.”

  “I roused Duncan and Alexander early to see Magellan home,” Lillian said.

  “Ah, I wondered why some of my brothers were missing from the heap of bodies out there.”

  “Callum slept upstairs with me,” Eliza said with a grin. “He was in no state to remove his own boots, but at least he made it up the stairwell without breaking his neck.”

  Breghan winked at her. “You picked the best of the lot.” She reached across the table and placed her hand warmly on Eliza’s arm. “Promise me you will come up to the castle more often.”

  “I’ll ride up once every week,” she promised.

  “And I still have Annie and the lasses,” Lillian said, referring to the middle-aged cook and the handful of unmarried girls from the village who helped out. “As well as Magellan.”

  “Donague will be packed with female company,” Mary added. “I’ll be here for a fortnight to rest my bones before the journey back up to—Oh.” Her eyes went wide and Breghan glanced over her shoulder to find Arran standing in the doorway, one hand braced on the jamb.

  “Ladies,” he greeted hoarsely, meeting each set of eyes before settling his gaze on Breghan as he came further inside
, his grimace tightening with each halted step.

  Breghan went to meet him halfway. His eyes were threaded with a spider web of red veins. The parts of his face not bristled with the night’s growth of dark blond beard were greyish white. “You look terrible.”

  “I feel worse than I look.” He cupped his head with both palms, as if to hold it together. “There are two harpies pecking either side my brain.”

  An unexpected surge of sympathy kept her from remarking that he deserved no less. “Let me fetch you a bowl of porridge. The oats might absorb some of the whiskey from your gut.”

  “Thanks, lass, I’d appreciate that, but only after I’ve cleared the clutter from your hall.”

  She blinked up at him, then realised what he meant. “Sodden bodies sprawled in disarray is a common malady at Donague.”

  “I’ll still take responsibility for today’s onslaught.”

  “Ah, I heard all about last night.” She smiled to soften her rebuke.

  He rested a hand on her shoulder. “This is pleasant…our first civil conversation.”

  Whose fault is that?

  Breghan bit down on the sharp retort and eased the scowl that had leapt to her brow. In truth, she was in complete agreement. The year ahead would be fraught with unpleasant encounters if they couldn’t reach a level of civil understanding.

  She opened her mouth to say so.

  “Hush.” Arran touched his finger to her lips before she got a word out. “Dinna spoil it now.”

  Indignation blocked her tongue for a moment too long. He turned from her and made his way to the hearth, leaving Breghan speaking to herself as she muttered, “Too late, you spoilt it first.”

  He lifted an iron ladle and griddle from their pegs beside the hearth and struck the ladle upon the flat griddle. The loud ding bared his teeth and she saw his wince from across the kitchen.

  “This will do,” he declared.

  When he strode past her on his way out, his teeth were still bared with his face locked into a grimace.

  Breghan smiled. She could offer to wake the men while he covered his ears. Or she could not. To her mother, she said, “I’m going upstairs to finish packing.”

  “I’ll be up as soon as I’ve called Annie in from the gardens to feed the swarm of hungry mouths.”

  In the hall, Breghan kept to the wall to avoid men startled midsnore by Arran’s gong. Once in her room, she checked through the three coffers her father would be sending to Ferniehirst with the wagon tomorrow and made a small pile of necessities to go in the saddlebag. She removed her satin-soft slippers to add to the pile, then sat down on the bed to pull on her travelling boots.

  Lillian came in and closed the door behind her. Her eyes misted suddenly as she looked at Breghan. “Now that the time has come, I would keep you here a small while longer.”

  “I’ll be back.” A hard lump formed in Breghan’s throat as she looked at her mother. She knew that Ferniehirst was only a day’s ride away, but suddenly it felt like a thousand.

  “Magellan sent this for you.” Lillian took a seat beside Breghan and placed a flaxen bag, tied at the neck with pink ribbon, into her hands. “The herbs are ground into a fine powder. Place a pinch beneath your tongue after you’ve lain with Arran. You’ll swallow the powder with your spit. I guarantee this will prevent his seed from taking root.” She folded her hand over Breghan’s. “Women have little command over their body and life, my darling, don’t be afraid to command where you may.”

  Breghan placed the bag with her small pile. “Does Papa know you drink this?”

  “Heavens, no. He can’t abide Magellan’s ways and blames our three sets of twins on her witchery. Multiple births are unnatural, don’t you know?”

  Breghan laughed at the humorous sparkle in her mother’s eyes. “Very well, I’ll not mention this to Arran either. Although he’d no doubt appreciate my effort, if not the method. He doesn’t want me for a wife.”

  “Arran Kerr isn’t a man to be forced into anything he doesn’t want.”

  Breghan stood and walked to the window as she mulled over those words. Her mother had the measure of the man. Why, then, had he allowed her to corner him into this handfasting? He’d originally demanded it in a fit of rage. Or so she’d thought. I didna choose this handfasting for revenge or punishment, Bree. I simply wished to have more time with you.

  Breghan realised now it must be true.

  Taking you into my bed has naught to do with taking you to wife, and I want the one almost as much as I dinna want the other.

  Honour had won out over his base desire and he’d put the decision into her hands. She’d given him exactly what he wanted and without the burden to his conscience.

  He wants to dally for a while afore choosing a more appropriate wife and I want to earn my freedom.

  We both win.

  Her gaze was drawn to movement in the field below. A line of men made a path in the long grass as they marched up from the river bend. As they drew closer, she saw their hair hung in wet clots and they had a certain vigour in their step. Seemed he’d made them take an icy bath in the river.

  The sun was high before they were ready to depart. The McAllen clan gathered in the bailey to say their farewells. Each of Breghan’s brothers lifted her into a hug and clapped Arran on the shoulder with a friendly warning to take good care of their little sister.

  Lillian wrapped her daughter in a close embrace and kept her there for a long moment. “I believe he is a good man, Breghan. My dearest wish is for you to find happiness. Ferniehirst is less than a day’s travel, we will visit often. Take care, my darling child, and never forget you have a home here if you are ever in need.”

  Mother and daughter pulled away, tears rolling down their cheeks. Breghan was stunned to find her father’s eyes misty with unshed tears as he too pulled her into his arms.

  “Take care, daughter. God’s truth, if I never had to see you go, it would be too soon.”

  She looked up into his eyes. “I love you, Papa.”

  Then it was time to leave.

  Arran lifted her up onto Angel and, with a final wave, Breghan rode from Castle Donague, flanked by Arran on one side and his two men on the other. They were a small travelling party and Arran was clearly in a hurry. Breghan didn’t mind. Her travelling gown had a slit that allowed her to ride astride rather than side-saddle. Her spirits lifted as she grabbed the reins, put her head down and spurred Angel into a gallop across McAllen fields and along the river path until they joined the main road. Then Arran took the lead with his men bringing up the rear.

  The well-trodden road made for good time and all too soon they were slowing down to pass through the narrow streets of Hightown.

  Arran pulled up alongside her. “You have an excellent seat. Who taught you to ride astride?”

  Breghan pulled her gaze from the familiar ramshackle of shop fronts to smile at him. “You forget I have twelve brothers.”

  His wry grin made her regret her words. Of course he hadn’t forgotten. But not even the heritage that had enticed him to McAllen’s daughter could convince him to take a hoyden like her to proper wife. Which suited her fine, Breghan reminded herself.

  Arran handed her a flask of ale. “I’m surprised McAllen allows it.”

  “He didn’t.” Breghan sipped deeply, not realising how thirsty she was until the cool ale hit her throat. “Until I fell off the side-saddle so many times, Papa feared for my clumsy life.”

  Arran’s eyes appraised her. “You ride as if you were born to it. I can’t imagine you being clumsy on a horse, whatever your seat.”

  “Neither can I.” Her smile turned coy as she gave the flask back.

  Arran laughed out loud.

  “I trust you with my secret.”

  He placed a hand on his chest. “I’ll guard it well.”

  His gaze warmed through her and in that moment Breghan felt a deep contentment and rightness seep into her bones. Arran Kerr had a mischievous streak that spoke to her heart
. With laughter in his eyes and a grin softening the craggy ridges of his cheekbones and jaw, there was a sudden glimpse of a man she might be willing to entrust with all her secrets, for the rest of her life.

  But then they were on the open ride once more, riding at a neck-breaking pace, leaving behind the last familiar territory, and her contentment faded. She glanced over her shoulder often, catching a last glimpse of the edge of town, a last glimpse of the mound that cut the town from sight, a last glimpse of the woods that spread south and then dwindled into open grassy fields.

  Breghan had never been further than Hightown, and a longing for home and family grew with every mile. The terrain changed slightly, becoming more hilly as they travelled south, the far-off mountains looming closer.

  When the main road veered toward the River Tiviot once again, Arran took them down a gentle slope to the water and brought the party to a halt. Duncan helped her dismount before Arran could reach her and Breghan groaned in sweet relief as her feet touched the ground.

  Arran grabbed Angel’s rein and led the mare to the water with his stallion. Broderick followed with the remaining two horses. Apparently Duncan had been left with the task of tending to her.

  “The laird rides too hard,” Duncan muttered. He held her arm, as if afraid she might collapse, and shook his head. “Your bones must be near shattered, m’lady.”

  Breghan gave him a reassuring smile. She’d long since given up on trying to get Duncan to call her by her given name. “I’m accustomed to riding hard.”

  Although maybe not quite so far for quite so long. Her thighs were stiff and her backside felt as if it had grown horns.

  She resisted his attempts to seat her on a fallen log. “I need to stretch my legs. Are we still a long way from Ferniehirst?”

  “About twenty miles,” he said. “At this pace, we’ll be home before sundown.”

  “That should make your laird a happy man.” Nothing, it seemed, not even sleeping the morning away, could get in the way of his iron will.