As well as other things they were only too happy to open for him.
Braden smiled at the thought.
With the speed of a trained warrior, he saddled his horse and was out of the stable before the earl could make his way out of the keep. Indeed, Braden was through the gate before the man reached the yard.
He had one quick stop left before he was free. But then he was northern-bound.
“Lay on, Deamhan,” he said to his black stallion. “Let’s see what other trouble we can find along the way, shall we?”
Chapter 2
Kilgarigon, Scotland
Three weeks later
Lochlan MacAllister was a practical man. A reasonable man, according to most. As the leader of his clan, he had to be. But this…this beat all he had ever seen in his score and eight years of living.
No woman in Kilgarigon would bed or feed her man until Lochlan agreed to end the feud with Robby MacDouglas!
He was still reeling from the unreasonable request. The women were mad. All of them. But none more so than Maggie ingen Blar.
In fact, he himself was ready to go and throttle the women’s ringleader.
And he wasn’t the only one. The men of his clan were fast passing the point of charity, and already he had heard rumors of them going after Maggie themselves. Indeed, every morning he half expected to find her poor, rotting carcass nailed to the front door of his keep or hanging from the merlons.
Frustrated, he looked across his clean, elegant great hall to where his younger brother Ewan sat at the table sawing at a piece of beef Lochlan had attempted to cook a short time ago. In truth, he would have been better off salting and frying up his leather boots. For surely the leather couldn’t have tasted worse than the meat.
If not for the seriousness of his predicament, Lochlan would laugh at the sight of Ewan trying to keep his long shanks beneath the table. There were few men in the clan who came close to Ewan’s six-foot-six height. And though Ewan’s body was lean, it was muscled well enough to make even the stoutest gulp in fear.
But it was more than the man’s size that frightened most, ’twas also his fierce demeanor. Ewan rarely smiled. In fact, Ewan avoided most people entirely and seldom ventured from the cave in the hills he called home.
Yet for all his moodiness, Ewan possessed an ability to see straight into the heart of a matter and call it by its name. It was for that reason Lochlan had summoned him from his hermitage.
“What am I going to do?” he asked Ewan.
Ewan attempted to chew the meat, but he looked more like a cow with cud than the warrior Lochlan knew him to be. “Learn to cook, lest you starve.”
“Ewan,” he growled. “I am in earnest.”
“So am I,” Ewan mumbled as he pushed his wooden trencher away, then took a gulp of ale to rinse the fetid taste of charred beef from his mouth. “You can’t go on eating like this or you’ll never last another week.”
“Ewan…”
His brother ignored his warning tone. “It seems to me there is an easy solution to this.”
“And that is?”
“Go into the kirk yard, toss Maggie ingen Blar over your shoulder, take her out of there and force her to cook us a meal that’s edible.”
Lochlan sighed. “You think I haven’t thought of that? But she’s on holy ground. I’ll not violate that sanctity.”
Ewan rose slowly from the table. “Then I’ll do it. Satan’s throne would freeze before I let another woman make a mockery of me.”
“True enough,” a familiar voice broke into their conversation. “That’s why the good Lord put me on this earth.”
Lochlan turned to see his youngest brother, Braden, standing in the doorway of the hall.
Braden’s black hair was tousled as if he’d ridden hard. He wore his black and green plaid haphazardly over his left shoulder and his look was as mischievous as ever.
For the first time in a fortnight, Lochlan laughed. “Well, well, the prodigal son has returned,” he said as he crossed the room to greet his ever-errant and irreverent brother.
As soon as he drew even with Braden, Lochlan caught sight of the man in the shadows who stood quietly behind his baby brother. The smile froze on his face as he stopped dead in his tracks.
Nay, it couldn’t be…
But it was.
Lochlan blinked in disbelief.
It had been years since he’d last seen his half-brother Sin. Even as a child, Sin had been more serious than Ewan and filled with more hatred than Lochlan could fathom.
When Sin had been sent against his will to the English king their father so detested, the youth had sworn never again to set foot north of Hadrian’s Wall.
Lochlan couldn’t imagine what had happened to cause Sin to change his mind, but he was certainly glad he had, for he loved his older brother and had missed him greatly.
Sin still had those piercing, mirthless black eyes that seemed to see straight into the soul. He had the same black hair as Ewan and Braden, and surprisingly enough, he wore it long like a Highlander, not short like the English.
But his clothes were another matter entirely. His black surcoat, mail, hose and boots were all English. And oddly enough, they bore no markings on them whatsoever.
“What’s this?” Lochlan asked, recovering from his surprise. “You’ve returned from England with a guest?” He extended his arm to Sin, who stared at it a full minute before shaking it.
Lochlan clapped him on the back. “’Tis good to see you, my bráthair. It’s been far too long.”
Sin’s taut features softened a degree, and it was only then Lochlan realized just how uncertain Sin had been of his reception.
“I was afraid to let Braden come alone,” Sin said as he removed his arm from Lochlan’s. “After the number of close calls he had in England, I feared he’d never make it home before some poor husband or father speared him.”
Ewan gave a shout as he recognized Sin. Crossing the room, he grabbed him up into a bear hug.
Sin bristled in the hold. “Put me down, you big, ugly úbaidh!”
“So,” Ewan said as he set Sin back on his feet. “You do remember your heritage. With those clothes on your back, I wasn’t sure if you were my big brother come home, or another of Braden’s conquests.”
As always, Braden took the ribbing in stride, but Sin’s look turned murderous.
“Speaking of conquests,” Braden inserted, “where are the women? I’ve yet to see a single one since I crossed into MacAllister lands.”
“Nay!” Ewan gasped as he turned to face Braden. “Can it be Braden’s made it a whole hour without a woman? Quick, Lochlan, send for a healer afore he collapses from the stress of celibacy.”
Braden clucked his tongue. “Now, that’s no joking matter. It’s not good for a man to go too long without a woman. His juices back up and before you know it, he turns into a soured, ill-tempered beastie.”
Braden’s eyes widened as he regarded Ewan. “So that’s what happened to you! Come,” he said, draping an arm over Ewan’s shoulders. “We’d best find you a woman quickly before you get any worse.”
His lips curling into a grimace, Ewan knocked Braden’s arm off his shoulder. “Would you stop with your foolishness?” He turned to Sin. “You’d best take him back to England before I run him through.”
Lochlan ignored their almost routine bantering. Ewan and Braden couldn’t communicate with each other unless they were exchanging insults.
Lochlan looked to Sin. “I’m glad you came home. ’Tis been far too long since you last ventured to the Highlands.”
Sin nodded. “You, Kieran, Braden and Ewan are all I ever missed from this godforsaken place. No offense, but I much prefer English luxury to this rough existence.”
“Spoken like a true Sassenach,” Ewan said, his lip curled in repugnance.
Sin’s eyes narrowed at the insult.
“Enough,” Lochlan intervened before Sin could respond. Sin had never been the type one taunted with imp
unity, and the last thing he wanted was any more blood spilled between his brothers.
Regardless of the past, and all the words spoken in anger, Sin was always welcome in his home.
“There will be no insults here,” Lochlan said to Ewan, his voice stern. “At least not against Sin. Braden, on the other hand, you may feel free to attack.”
“Och, now,” Braden bristled, “where’s your brotherly love?”
Lochlan smiled devilishly. “That is my brotherly love. Notice I have yet to taunt you.”
“Aye, but I’m sure it’s nothing more than an oversight.” Braden turned and looked expectantly about the hall.
Even before Braden spoke the words, Lochlan knew what was on his mind. This was the only time in his memory that Braden had returned home without an entire army of women running out to greet him, elbowing each other in an effort to gift his younger brother with food and other things they were only too happy to offer.
“Where are the serving maids with something for us to eat?” Braden asked.
Lochlan opened his mouth to explain, but Ewan stopped him.
“Nay, please let me be the one who tells him.” Ewan’s blue eyes twinkled in rare humor.
“Very well,” Lochlan said. “If it gives you pleasure.”
“Aye, that it surely does.” Beaming in satisfaction, Ewan turned to Braden. “You remember Anghus and Aidan’s little sister, Maggie ingen Blar?”
Braden frowned. “The little hellion with red hair, freckles and buck teeth? How could I ever forget her?”
The harsh words set Lochlan aback. He’d never in his life heard his brother describe a woman as anything save beautiful, and Maggie was anything other than bucktoothed.
Hellion, on the other hand, he would gladly concede.
“I don’t recall her having buck teeth,” Lochlan said.
“That’s because she never bit you with them,” Braden responded. “Me, on the other hand, she seemed to love to attack. Never knew why.”
“Must have been your charming personality,” Sin said dryly.
Ewan threw his hands up and stepped in front of Braden. “Do you mind? I’d like to stay on the point.” He glared meaningfully first at Lochlan, then at Sin.
“Seize the moment,” Lochlan said.
“Thank you.” Ewan placed a hand on each of Braden’s shoulders so as to savor his reaction. “Anyway, Maggie, whether she has buck teeth or not”—he glared at Lochlan in warning, before turning back to face Braden—“has led all the lasses into hiding.”
Braden’s frown deepened. “Hiding from what?”
“From us wicked, lustful men.”
Braden stared blankly at Ewan as the full, horrific impact of the words dawned on him. “Surely you jest.”
Braden looked to Lochlan for verification. “He jests?”
“Nay,” Lochlan sighed. “He’s telling the truth. It seems the women have decided that I must put a stop to the feud against the MacDouglas or else they’ll serve us no more.”
“In any capacity,” Ewan added for effect.
Braden’s face actually paled as he stepped away from Ewan. He reached out and grabbed a handful of Sin’s cloak. “By Satan’s hairy toes, Sin, it appears I’ve died and gone to hell.”
Sin snorted. “Guess again, little brother. ’Tis too cold here to be hell.”
Braden shook his head in disbelief, then a dark look came over him as he faced Lochlan. “All right, laird, what did you do to the women to get them so riled?”
“Me?” Lochlan asked, stunned by Braden’s assumption that he had done anything to the women. “I did nothing. Why, I’ve tried everything I can think of to make them see reason. I’ve threatened and cajoled. Hell, I even tried seducing Maggie myself, but—”
Braden’s derisive snort interrupted him. “Well, there’s half your problem. I can assure you, ordering a woman to lift her skirts isn’t the way to get her into your bed.”
Lochlan felt his jaw drop in indignation. “I beg your pardon, I have more subtlety than that.”
“The devil you do. You forget, I’ve seen your clumsy attempts at seduction firsthand.”
“Clumsy? Why, I’ve had more women than you, you whelp.”
Braden cocked one arrogant, taunting brow.
“Well,” Lochlan conceded after reflecting on the matter for a second. He doubted if a Saracen sheikh with a harem could claim more women than Braden. “Maybe not more than you, but certainly more than Ewan.”
“That’s not saying much,” Braden inserted. “My left boot has had more women than Ewan.”
“Hey, now,” Ewan snarled. “You’d best be keeping your insults directed at the brother who tolerates you. I’ll not take kindly to such.”
Ignoring him, Braden draped an arm over Lochlan’s shoulders and pulled him close, as if about to impart some great secret. “Now, listen to me, my dearest brother who tolerates me. You are laird to a powerful clan. ’Tis not your feeble attempts that seduce women so much as your title and fair face.”
“My what?” Lochlan asked, offended by his condescending tone.
“’Tis true,” Braden continued. “There’s not a woman among them who wouldn’t love to lay claim to a night with a laird. Is that not right, Sin?”
“Why ask me? Am I a woman to know these things?”
“Well…” Braden paused.
Whatever thought he had, he must have reconsidered, for he quickly returned to Lochlan. “As I was saying, your title and face are all you need.”
“Aye, well, neither impressed Maggie. She dispatched me in record time. At this point, she’s left me with no alternative that I can see. If they aren’t out by midday tomorrow, I’m leading a raiding party against the kirk and dragging them out by force.”
Braden released him. “You don’t want to be doing that. They’re women, Lochlan. Our women.”
“You think I don’t know that? Our mother is in there with them. But what choice do I have?”
A speculative look came over Braden’s face. Lochlan could almost see the workings of his mind. Good, Braden was always a mastermind when it came to dealing with women.
“I can think of another choice,” Braden said. “What say you, I talk sense into the wench and get the women back where they belong—in the kitchens and in our beds?”
Lochlan considered it. If Braden could end this peacefully, then it was certainly worth a try. He didn’t like the thought of hurting one of their women any more than Braden did.
Perhaps his brother could succeed where he had failed. Braden had always been good at settling hot-blooded issues peacefully.
There had only been one time when he had failed. Lochlan winced at the memory.
There had been enough tragedy in their family. The last thing he wanted was to add anything more. He would give Braden a chance to talk the women out.
But only one. He couldn’t afford any more than that.
“Very well. But know this: At the rate Maggie’s going, my men will either storm the kirk on their own, or they’ll toss me out on my arse and elect a new laird.”
“Women,” Sin muttered. “I can’t believe they’d construct this rebellion against you while you have a feud to contend with. The last thing you need are your men distracted by women’s foolery while they have lands to protect.”
“Aye,” Braden agreed. “I’m surprised the MacDouglas isn’t taking advantage of this mutiny.”
Lochlan glanced out the window in the direction of the kirk. In spite of his anger, he did take a moment to savor the amusement he felt over the bit of news he’d received. “I’m sure he would have, had his own women not done the same thing to his clan.”
“What?” Braden asked.
“It’s true,” Lochlan continued. “His own wife has joined them. I received word of it just three days ago. The Lady MacDouglas has made a laughingstock of her husband.”
“Is he willing to talk peace, then?” Sin asked.
“Nay. Even if we could agree to terms, ne
ither of us dares it. If we concede to the women over this, then they’ll think they have power over us and anytime there’s a matter they don’t like, they might very well hie themselves into hiding again. I shudder to think of the consequences. Can you imagine?”
“Aye,” Braden said with a wicked smile. “It could be amusing.”
Lochlan glared at him.
“Well, it could,” Braden said, dismissing Lochlan’s ire.
He swept a confident look over the three of them. “For years the lot of you have mocked me over the fact that no woman can resist me. Well, now, my brothers, you shall be grateful to me for my gift.”
Braden’s look had never been more cocksure. “Come and bear witness to how quickly I end this matter. I’ll wager it’ll be less than a quarter hour before I have Maggie feeding from my hand.”
“I’ll take the wager,” Ewan said. “Especially after the way I saw Maggie send Lochlan packing. It’ll do you good to fail.”
“Me, fail?” Braden asked in disbelief. “Hah! There’s no woman alive immune to me.”
“For once, I hope you’re right,” Lochlan said. “I can’t afford for you to lose this wager.”
“Then come and see my most tender triumph.”
Ewan clapped Lochlan on the back. “I don’t know about you, but this is one confrontation I canna wait to see.”
Chapter 3
Braden MacAllister could very well mark the end of all her grand plans.
Maggie ingen Blar froze at the window of the kirk as she saw the small group of men headed her way. If ever the four riders of the Apocalypse appeared in the flesh, it would be in the form of the four men gasconading down the road toward the small kirk where she and the other women had taken refuge.
It would be any other woman’s dream to have four such sinfully handsome men headed toward her, knowing she was the one they sought with such determination.
For Maggie, it was a waking nightmare.
The handsome Lochlan she’d expected to see again. Standing six-foot-four, he was one of the tallest men of the clan. His fair hair looked as if it had literally been spun from gold. And when it came to his features, she doubted if the angels in heaven could compete with the gentle sculpted face or dimpled smile that had made many a maid sigh.