She merely looked at him and raised an eyebrow.
“Ye are trying my patience, woman, hie yerself out of here now, or this time I will be forced to punish ye!”
Faith glanced to the back of the room, where Berta stood unabashedly watching the scene unfold while she pretended to stir something in a bowl. There was a strange glimmer in her eye. Probably enjoying this morning’s entertainment even more than last night’s. Maybe she only imagined it, but she thought she saw Berta give her a slight nod of encouragement. She turned back to Bren and crossed her arms over her chest in perfect imitation of his stance.
“No. Not unless you give me a very good reason why I can’t help Berta. I’ll be bored, otherwise. It’s going to rain all day, and in case you didn’t realize, I’m stuck here until Dirc decides to come back for me. What else am I supposed to do with my time?”
Bren was not used to being challenged, and certainly not by a lass half his own size. His temper began to flare, and he found himself wishing he could control this woman as easily as he could his blooded stallion. If she would only obey him… in all things. Then everything would be just fine. But she insisted on testing him instead. She truly had too much spirit for her own good. He dropped his voice lower, and filled it with menace. “If I have to carry ye out of here over my shoulder, I will. And when I finish with ye, ye willna sit for a week.”
Faith gave him a haughty look of challenge. She really didn’t know what had gotten into her this morning, but it felt good to at least pretend she had some control over her life at the moment, even though she knew she didn’t really.
Bren’s lips drew into a tight line and his eyes sparked fire. He moved so swiftly that Faith barely had time to turn and run as she suddenly reconsidered the wisdom of challenging Bren Mac Coinnach. She didn’t make it very far before he grabbed her arm, dragging her back towards him with more strength than she imagined one man should rightfully have.
She fought him then, with everything she had. Fought him because he was bigger and stronger and she hated to feel weak and helpless. Fought him because she knew that if he really wanted to, he could seduce her with almost no effort on his part, and her body would be his for the taking. She knew, deep down, that finding that ring was no accident, that she had been compelled here by something she didn’t understand. She also knew, instinctively, that her life was no longer entirely her own, because as long as she was here, she wouldn’t be able to resist Bren Mac Coinnach forever; whatever pull he had over her was just too strong. And then there was the symbol, the dragons. On the ring she still wore around her neck. On his arm. On his bed. Coincidence could only go so far.
So she fought back, letting go of all that she had held inside from the moment she had slipped the ring on her finger and awoken in the heather. She kicked him and hit him and struggled for all she was worth, but none of it made a damn bit of difference. He was that much bigger, that much stronger. He grabbed her other arm, and twisting it, held both wrists in one of his hands. She lunged forward and tried to bite him, and he pushed her roughly back onto a table, arms stretched over her head, chest heaving with exertion and indignation. He leaned into her, so that she could feel him aroused and hard against her thigh. Her eyes flew open in accusation. He was enjoying this, damn it! But then, to be completely honest, so was she. Despite her anger, or perhaps because of it, her body was responding to his, growing restless, throbbing.
“Little hellcat”, he said in a deep husky voice. “Do ye like to play rough then?”
Evidently she did, Faith thought with much chagrin, or she would not be wishing he would take her right now, on a table in the kitchens, with an audience, no less. All but for her pride.Pride goeth before a fall, her mind echoed from somewhere in her subconscious.
“Get off of me you overbearing ass!” she hissed at him.
She could feel his heart pounding hard in his chest. For all his façade of control, she was affecting him as much as he was her. She wanted to cry. She wanted to beg. She wanted to go home. But she didn’t want to leave. Her thoughts were jumbled, confused, on the brink of some understanding that she couldn’t quite grasp. Not yet. She raised her head and sunk her teeth into his shoulder.
Bren growled and shoved her back down onto the table, this time following her, crushing his lips to hers in a kiss that was more of a retribution, for this little demonstration of her temper, and more: for all the confusing emotions she was making him feel, and the unsated lust that stayed with him day and night. The wanting of her that went beyond all logic and reason. He tasted blood, hers or his own, he didn’t know, didn’t care. She would pay for what she was doing to him. She was trying to scream, but his mouth was on hers. She tried to kick at him, but her legs were trapped by his. She was completely helpless; but somehow, he knew that was not how he wanted her. He preferred her fighting him to her being helpless, and he would prefer even more that she give him her passion willingly.
Across the room, Berta looked up at Colm, who had come into the room to speak with her and was standing silently, his mouth hanging open in utter shock. For a moment helooked unsure whether he should intervene on behalf of the lass. The steward took a half-step forward, but immediately thought better of it, stepping back again and turning to Berta for guidance. Because he expected her to look as horrified as he was, he was more than a little taken aback when she beamed up at him with a girlish grin.
“Nay, leave them be”, she said in a low voice. “It looks like the laird has finally found his lady, if I dinna miss my guess.” A dreamy look came over her face. “Ah, young love! We’ll be having a wedding before too long, mark my words.”
Colm found himself gawking at Berta as if he’d never seen her before. “What did ye say?”
But she had already turned and gone back to her work, smiling and humming softly to herself.
Bren lifted his head a little to glare down at Faith. His breath was fast and shallow, and his body was raging, the slightest touch like a dagger to his skin. He was at his limit, and he knew it. He gritted his teeth, forcing his words out through them. “Ye want to work in the kitchens? Then work in the kitchens. I dinna care anymore. Just stay the hell away from me. Do ye hear me? I’m done acting the fool for ye. Ye willna tempt me any longer! I dinna need the aggravation.”
Her chin came up and her eyes were filled with angry defiance. “Actually, I think I’d much rather work in the garden.”
“Bloody woman!” He pushed away and left her there, still sprawled on the table. He slammed the door to the kitchen so hard that several of the pots clattered to the floor with a deafening noise.
Faith jumped at the sound and quickly pushed herself up from the table, looking to Berta with pain and confusion in her eyes. “He wants me to stay away.”
Berta hurried to her side and put one chubby arm around her, pulling her head down to her bosom as a mother would comfort a child. The caring gesture only made Faith lose what little control over her emotions she had left, and she began to sob.
“There, there, dear. It’s all right. He didna mean those words, he meant quite the opposite, truth be told.”
“I’m not so sure, Berta. I think I really made him angry this time. I don’t know why I said those things, and I don’t even know why I’m so upset about it! God, I’m so confused.”
“I ken ye are. But dinna fret, it will all work out for the best. And if it’s the laird’s intentions ye are worried about, I can tell ye this: he will not be staying away from ye for long. His anger is at himself, not at ye. Now, let me get ye a nice cup of tea.”
***
Bren lay alone in his bed that night, and he couldn’t find sleep. In truth, he’d thought the day would never end. After his confrontation with Faith in the kitchens that morning, he had been so riled that he went straight out to the practice field, swinging a heavy claymore as if it weighed no more than a feather, working his body until he was covered in sweat and his muscles were quivering, past the point of exhaustion. Even the rain did not slow him down. He had not seen Faith for the rest of the day, and wondered if she had finally chosen to obey him, just when he really didn’t want her to. He had lied again; not a good thing for a man who valued the truth so highly. He didn’t want her out of his way. The truth was, he was in his own way at the moment.
He absentmindedly gathered the shadows together to form patterns on the ceiling above, a trick he had learned when he was just a small child, to entertain himself when he couldn’tsleep at night, or when he had been sent to bed without his supper for some mischief or other. But it wasn’t working, not tonight. There was a woman in this very keep that he wanted above all others, and she wouldn’t have him. So he had lost his temper and told her to stay away.Stay away! He pushed his hands through his hair. God! What was he thinking? Even now, he ached for her, as if there was an empty space within that could not be filled. She was everything he’d always dreamed of. She was brave and kind, smart and passionate… and so much more, so many things yet to be discovered. And her undeniable beauty… that was a boon on top of everything else. She was everything he could ever want in a woman…or in a wife. If only that could be so. He sucked in a breath.A wife… He could see it in his mind, so clearly now. Faith at his side, in his bed, Faith with his own child at her breast. His heart swelled with emotion, and his lips pressed into a firm line of determination. She would be his. She had to be his. Any less would be unacceptable. Tomorrow then. Tomorrow she would belong to him, one way or another.
The next day dawned clear and sunny, only a few high clouds marring an otherwise blue sky over Creagmor. A rare enough thing in the highlands. Faith hurried to dress and eat so she could spend some time outdoors. And she needed to think. What had happened with Bren yesterday… she had tossed and turned half the night and still couldn’t get it out of her mind. She was going to have to make a decision. Being in Bren’s arms, having him kiss her, it was all-consuming, frighteningly intense. But now that she had felt that, she wasn’t sure she could go back to the way things were before, either. She barely knew the man, and yet sometimes it was as if she’d known him forever. It just couldn’t be right, the way she was feeling. It was too sudden, too soon, too… complete. She hurried out into the garden, hoping things would seem clearer with a little fresh air and solitude.
