Page 8 of The Highlander’s Tempting Touch

Niamh had never cared that Grace was English born and raised any more than she’d cared for the fact that her friend was a year younger than she. Grace was Grace, and they’d been friends since the first autumn festival when they’d both escaped their minders to explore the festival together.

Still, for all Niamh didn’t care, she knew that there were many clan-folk who would take offense to an English lass among them. Most would be content to sneer and spit, but some might do her harm. Just as some might attempt to accost her because of her delicate appearance and pretty features. So they always met in secluded locations and walked the festival together.

Grace was the first to step back from their embrace, her blue eyes wide with concern. “You said there was a brawl? Were you hurt?”

“Nay. I wasnae. A stranger I’d run intae was kind enough tae protect me.” Niamh felt the familiar tell-tale heat rising in her cheeks and hurried to change the subject. “And what o’ ye? Did ye have any difficulties?”

Grace sighed. “I am fortunate to have friends among the guards. My uncle grows more strict and more suspicious with every passing year. Indeed, I fear he is near the end of his patience, for he has been hinting that he will find me a husband, no matter what I do to thwart him. Even if he must wed to me to his sworn enemies.”

“He wouldnae really, would he?”

“And why would he not, if they have gold enough to satisfy him? I have done as much as I can, but sooner or later, there will be someone who can be convinced to overlook my apparent flaws.” Grace sighed, melancholy darkening her gaze. “I fear he has an enticing offer on his side, for he does not ask for an heir to my family’s title. He wants to hold the Lancaster name himself, so he is more than pleased for any child of mine to belong to someone else’s line.”

Niamh hugged her gently. “Och, well, we’ll dae everything we can tae prevent that from coming tae pass, ye and I. After all, we’re both in the same situation, are we nae? Me faither is kinder than yer uncle, but there’s nay question that he’s looking fer a husband fer me as well.” Niamh grinned and held up her list. “He’s had nay luck so far, though. I’ve nae met a suitor yet who I couldnae best.”

As she’d hoped would happen, Grace laughed. “You are a proper hellion, as my old nurse would say. If she knew that we were friends, she would say you are a very bad influence as well.”

“And if her father kent she was consorting with an English wench, he’d likely die o’ shame or see her sequestered fer the rest o’ her days.” The low growling voice startled both of them. Niamh spun around.

“Alistair?”

Why would he be here? How did he find us so far off the pathways?

CHAPTER FIVE

Alistair strode toward the two women, his gut churning with sullen embers of anger. He’d no idea what the English lass wanted, but the fact that Niamh would befriend such a person – such conduct was perilously close to a betrayal of all the warriors who had fought and died at Bannockburn and afterward.

She should know better, especially when her father was a laird, and one of those who guarded the border between the clans and their English foes.

Niamh appeared too startled to say anything, after her utterance of his name, but the English wench recovered quickly enough to dip a curtsy as he came near. “I do not know what I’ve done to affront you, good sir, but…”

“Ye’re English.” Alistair snarled the words out, gratified to see her flinch, even as Niamh’s expression tightened with anger at his behavior. “And nae a common English lass, at that. Ye’re a lady.”

“My family is of minor nobility, if that is what you are asking. However, if you are concerned about my allegiance…”

“Save yer words. I’ve heard enough English words in me life, and I dinnae need tae hear more, nae even from a pretty lass.” Alistair snapped at her. He rounded on Niamh with a glare that had sent many a man running for the hills. “And ye, ye should ken better than tae be befriending someone like this, when so many Highlanders and Lowlanders alike have spilled blood tae keep them away from the clans.”

Niamh flushed, but she stood her ground and raised her chin in defiance. “That’s naething tae dae with Grace. She’s nae part o’ the fighting, and never has been. She grew up nay more than a half-day’s ride from me home, and I from hers. We’ve met here fer years. Why should we nae be friends?”

“Because her faither, braithers, uncles and cousins stand on the field across from ours, and bein’ friends with an English noble, be they lad or lass, is akin tae inviting a viper intae yer home.” Alistair’s lip curled. “Yer faither should have taught ye better.”

“And what’s that tae dae with our bein’ friends? She could surely say the same about me kinfolk fighting hers.” Niamh’s jaw clenched. “And that aside, I dinnae ken what business it is o’ yers. I’m fair certain I told ye I didnae want yer company taeday, and ye said ye wouldnae pursue the matter. Yet here ye are.”

Alistair scowled back. “I happened tae be passing and saw ye entering these woods. I was concerned fer what ye might encounter, and ‘tis clear I was right tae be.” He reached out to take Niamh’s arm.

She wrenched away from him. “Keep yer hands off me! Ye’ve nay right tae decide who I befriend, or spy on who I choose tae meet.” Her glare could have set fire to wet wood.

Alistair could feel his own temper fraying. The argument was bad enough, but through it all, the English wench, Grace, kept attempting to step between them. He took a grip on Niamh’s arm once again, and Grace stepped forward. “Don’t touch her. I do not care who you are, you don’t have a right to treat a lass so rudely.”

Alistair jerked away from her hand, dragging Niamh with him. “Dinnae touch me, wench! I dinnae care what ye think but touch me again and ye’ll regret it.” His jaw clenched. “As it is, ye’re fair lucky I havenae called fer the guard and reported yer presence here afore now.”

“Dinnae dare threaten Grace! Ye brute!” Niamh hammered an ineffectual fist against his shoulder. “Ye’ll unhand me now, or I’ll have me faither horsewhip ye!”

“I’ll nae dae aught o’ the sort, and nor will he. Nae when I tell him...” Alistair bit his tongue. He’d almost revealed more than he meant to. He could feel himself perilously close to lashing out, and it was clear that if the argument proceeded much longer, he’d say more than he meant to. He set his jaw and began to walk away, dragging Niamh with him.

Niamh couldn’t believe what was happening. Only a candle-mark ago, she’d been having a wonderful day. She’d met a handsome, charming man, and been on her way to spend the day with her best friend. Now, somehow, everything had gone wrong.

The handsome man had turned out to have a dark side. Worse, he was trying to take her away from Grace.