Michele Sinclair - [McTiernays 05] Read online

  Craig needed to warn her again about Hamish’s less savory habits and was about to go and confront her when he caught her expression. Far from jubilant, he could see she looked like she was about to break into tears. He rubbed his eyes, wondering what could have been said to upset her. When he glanced back up, Laurel and Meriel were no longer in sight and Wyenda was nestled at Hamish’s side as the two walked toward the gatehouse. The woman must have been in the shadows or had just arrived, for she had not been visible before.

  Craig stared at the now empty courtyard. What was that all about? he wondered. What was Hamish doing with Wyenda? He had warned Hamish about that girl. And just who said what to cause Meriel to cry?

  Craig frowned. He had nothing but questions. And too many of them lacked answers.

  Craig stepped out of the Lower Hall and moved out of the way to let Fallon and two feuding farmers exit. Their “discussion” had been about whose turn it was to help the other with their plowing, and it had taken far longer to resolve than it should have. As a result, Craig had missed the midday meal and was far from happy about it. He was about to go and brave the wrath of Fiona when he spied Meriel and Hamish exiting the kitchens.

  Meriel’s back was to him, but Craig could easily discern his friend’s expression. It held genuine affection, but nothing beyond amity.

  For the past four days, Craig had covertly watched Meriel and those who interacted with her, searching for anything to reveal the essence of a scheme. He had made sure Hamish attended dinner with them the past three nights, but not once did Meriel and he exchange a word or gesture to indicate anything more than friendship. They spoke and laughed with each other, but no more than they did with the others in attendance. If Laurel was attempting to make him jealous, neither Hamish nor Meriel was playing their part very well. Maybe they had realized Laurel’s little gambit would never work.

  Each night after dinner, Hamish would leave and Meriel stayed to chat with Craig by the hearth. They would discuss their day, funny events they had seen or heard, and anything that interested them or they thought might entertain the other. On the surface, their relationship was normal. Old habits and activities were once again being enjoyed. Neither felt the need to act as if they had to prove their friendship was more than it was, and both had intuitively avoided any unwanted stress by not bringing up the past. And yet, Craig knew things between them were far from perfect.

  Meriel was keeping a secret. All too often her mind wandered to whatever it was, leaving him alone even though she was sitting right next to him. But that was not the worst of it.

  The images of Meriel continued to haunt his dreams, robbing him of much-needed sleep. Previously, his dreams of her had always begun the same. Gone was the pressure of marriage. Thoughts of a shackled future were nonexistent. There was only Meriel, and she was finally in his arms. He would be balanced above her on his elbows, barely in control of his breathing, whispering intimate endearments into her ear. How soft and sweet she felt, how much he wished to satisfy her . . . all the little words he longed to say. He would take her little by little, repeating the entire erotic rhythm over and over until his heart and mind were awash with pleasure.

  He had almost looked forward to lying down to sleep. But no more. For the past several nights, those fantasies had abandoned him and had been replaced with what felt more like nightmares.

  Meriel hovered at the edge of his dreams like a vision of white in a dark, dangerous, all-too-intense, mist-filled scene—one in which they were far from alone. She would stand between him and another faceless figure. Smiling, she lit up all that was around her, but it was not quite bright enough to let him see who was competing for her affections. Then she chose, and began to run away. He always woke before he could see who was running with her—him or someone else.

  Craig had never been one to let fate dictate his life, and he was not about to let it shape his relationship with Meriel. He had thought to wait until she was ready to bring him into her confidence, but he was beginning to wonder if she ever would. Or worse, when she did decide that she needed someone to talk to, she would seek out Hamish’s counsel and not his. Craig refused to let that happen. He was her confidant and she was his.

  If Meriel had forgotten that fact, then during their evening chat he would remind her and end these insane nightmares.

  Tonight, she would choose him.

  Craig watched from the high table as Meriel joined the small group preparing to leave the Great Hall. His blue eyes warmed as soon as she stopped at the hearth chairs. She hugged Aileen and Laurel and actually blushed when Hamish, in a display of bravado, bowed and kissed her hand good-bye.

  He could not blame his friend for flirting with Meriel. She was looking exceptionally beautiful. Her skin was pale and impossibly smooth against her dark green bliaut. The low cowl neckline showed off her slender form, and the soft, curling lock of tawny hair that fell down her back gave her an alluring feminine quality. Craig felt a surge of pride that in a few minutes he would be the one left alone in her company. She could have continued on with any of them, but it was his company she desired.

  As soon as everyone left, he sauntered over and watched with amusement as Meriel went through her nightly ritual of slipping off her shoes and adjusting her gown so that she could comfortably tuck her feet underneath her when she sat down. He was searching for a way to convince her to open up to him, when Meriel spoke first.

  “Craig, I was hoping you could help me with something.”

  His eyes widened in surprise and then realized she was waiting for him to speak. “I was wondering when you were going to ask.” If you were going to ask, he added wryly to himself.

  Meriel was a bundle of nerves. She bit her bottom lip and prayed that Craig thought her anxiety was caused by what she was about to ask. In truth, the next few minutes were going to affect the rest of her life. This conversation was going to dictate her future, and she was having it with the one person who could read her the best. “I was going to ask, a few times, but I guess I was worried how you would react.” She paused. “Or that you would not take me seriously.”

  Craig felt his brow furrow at the accusation. “Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Because this is something that you . . . that I . . . that we, well, we just have never discussed.”

  Craig froze for the space of a heartbeat and suddenly wished for Fallon to burst into the hall with some emergency that demanded his attention. “And which topic would that be?” he asked, his voice raspy with both question and warning. The only subject he could recall their ever avoiding was that of their kiss, and he had planned to continue dodging it all the way to his grave. But it was clear that Meriel did not share his opinion.

  “Love,” she said simply.

  Craig felt his breath catch in his throat as he fully comprehended the single word she had just said. He stood up, walked over and grabbed a pitcher of ale and filled a mug, fighting to calm his thoughts. He had considered the possibility that she might eventually push them into talking about their kiss and perhaps even the passion it had ignited between them, but love? He had no idea where to even begin such a discussion, let alone how to bring it to a quick and definitive end.

  “Or at least what I think might be love,” Meriel continued, pretending to be unaware of the tension radiating from Craig as he sat back down. She watched him covertly through her lashes, waiting until he began to swallow his drink before continuing. “I know you have never been in love—at least you’ve never mentioned feeling strongly for anyone. Maybe I’m wrong. Have you ever fantasized about someone?”

  Craig sputtered, nearly choking on his drink. “I’m a man, Meriel,” he managed to get out, hoping that was answer enough.

  Meriel rolled her eyes. “Not like that. I mean, has anyone ever broken your heart?”

  Craig felt increasingly uneasy. “Uh, no.”

  Meriel bit her bottom lip hard to keep from smiling and forced herself to stare at her fingers, intertwined in her lap. If
she looked at him directly, she would give everything away. But she was going to have to, and soon. Otherwise he would never believe her . . . never help her. “I really had hoped to deal with this all on my own, but I realized this afternoon that I am only fooling myself, and if I am to have any chance at all, I am going to need some assistance.”

  Craig reached up and roughly raked his scalp with his fingers, hoping that the rush of blood would help stem the headache he could feel coming. “I don’t think I understand.”

  Meriel stood up and began to pace in front of the large hearth. “I cannot believe I am so nervous.”

  Craig leaned forward so that his elbows rested on his knees, rolling the mug back and forth between his hands. She was so breathtaking, he wondered for a moment if it really would be all that bad for her to be in love with him. “Meriel, you and I have never kept secrets from each other. At least that is the way I want it to be. I know I don’t have any from you.”

  “And I have never kept any from you until now, but it occurred to me today that I am being silly. You are my friend, and of all the people here, I should be able to go to you for advice.”

  “I would like to think so,” Craig affirmed cautiously. Suddenly, the anxiety he had been feeling about their conversation shifted, for it was not going in the direction he had originally believed.

  Meriel threw her hands up in the air in resignation. “I think I have done the one thing I never thought I would do—could do. I’ve fallen in love! Or at the very least, I’m falling in love with him—and fast.”

  Craig was silent for a moment, then his eyes narrowed. It was clear she was not talking about being in love with him. There was only one other male he had seen her spend any amount of time with, and Craig refused to believe Meriel was so foolish. “Are you sure it’s love?” he posed. “Maybe it is just the excitement of being somewhere new . . .”

  Meriel shook her head and waved her hand, cutting him off. Sitting back down, she leaned toward him and said, “I told myself the same thing at first, but I feel so happy, so alive when I am around him.” She pushed her hair back behind her shoulders and slumped against the back of the chair, twiddling her fingers. “I think it was that darn kiss between you and me that started this whole thing.”

  Craig could hardly breathe, his lungs were squeezed so tight. He had wanted to know what was bothering Meriel, and now that he knew, it rattled his core—more than he cared to admit. His mind refused to register the significance of her words. All this time he had thought their kiss to be the predominant thing on her mind, like it had been on his. To discover otherwise was more than a little unnerving. To learn she believed it had sparked in her feelings for someone else turned him cold.

  He told himself he should be glad. He did not want love to confuse their relationship. Loving Meriel meant marriage and all the emotional ties and responsibilities that came with it. His brothers might be happy to compromise practically everything in their lives, but he liked being the sole ruler of his domain and had no intention of releasing his reins to anyone. Even to a person he loved.

  “That night something woke up in me I never even realized was there,” she continued. “I mean, you have to agree that the kiss you and I shared was incredible. I had not experienced that level of passion or desire with anyone before, and I’ll admit that it confused me for a while. I even thought Raelynd had been right. That I was in love with you—madly and completely. So much so that I ran away, hoping you would feel the same way and come after me. But you knew that. You practically told me that the morning I left. Remember?”

  “I remember,” Craig replied, his mind spinning.

  “But after I arrived here, I realized you were absolutely correct. What I had been feeling wasn’t love, but the desire to be in love—to share real passion with someone.”

  “It seemed pretty real to you at the time. . . .” Craig challenged, unable to stop himself. True passion had been generated between them. Just because he had refused to be ruled by it did not negate its existence.

  “Aye, but that was because it was so unexpected. If we kissed again, we would only be disappointed when the thrill we were anticipating never came,” Meriel said matter-of-factly. “Like you said, no one wants to kiss a friend, especially that way.”

  Craig scrunched down farther in his seat. That was not what he said. Fact was, he didn’t have any other female friends, and he was pretty sure that if he decided to kiss Meriel again, it would be far from a disappointment. And despite her claims otherwise, deep down he believed she felt the same way. It was just her way of coping with the fact that he refused to risk their friendship for a fleeting emotion known as lust.

  Meriel saw every small flick of his cheek muscles but did her best to pretend otherwise. The man was struggling with his thoughts and beliefs, which was encouraging. If Craig were anyone else, he would be ripe for all types of persuasion, but not him. She had to come to her own conclusions and so would he. “And while I truly am glad to know we will always be friends,” she said, resuming where she left off, “I still want something more. There are so few men I am physically attracted to, and whenever I do find one, it turns out we are not compatible enough to even have a simple conversation. So when I realized that I not only enjoy this person’s company, but seek it out, and that I desire him as well, it . . . well . . . scared me.”

  “I’ll bet it did,” Craig said softly, unable to hide the cool tone in his voice. “So just who have you met that you are so compatible with and attracted to?” he asked, already suspecting he knew the answer.

  “Who else?” Meriel asked with a shrug of her shoulders. “Hamish.”

  “Hamish?” Craig repeated, not attempting to disguise his disbelief. He thought he was ready for his friend’s name to roll off her lips, but upon hearing it, his whole demeanor grew in severity. Hamish was a great Highlander, solid soldier, and an excellent friend, but suitor and, God forbid, husband? No. The man was incapable of being faithful. Besides, Meriel was just not his type. The women Hamish sought were brazen and open with their advances. The sassier the better. If Meriel really did care about Hamish, she was going to get hurt.

  “Aye, Hamish!” Meriel said defensively. “He is . . . well, romantic. And good-looking. But he’s also so much more. He’s understanding, smart, funny . . . and, well, you know him.”

  Not like that, I don’t. “He loves Wyenda.”

  Meriel’s jaw clenched. “No, he does not. What he feels for that woman is physical attraction, not love. Besides, Wyenda doesn’t appreciate Hamish like she should. She has no idea how special he is.”

  “And you do.”

  “Every time we talk, I learn more and more just how wonderful a man he is. Or at least we did until you came and ruined everything. He used to seek me out to ensure that I was fine, but that ended the day you arrived. I have tried to think of ways to spend more time with him, but except for dinner, he is never here. That is why I need your help.”

  Craig exhaled, feeling the breath from his lungs burn his throat. He raked his fingers through his hair again, before turning to look at her. “The man is a rake, Meriel!”

  Meriel jumped to her feet. “He is not! At least not any more than you are.”

  A year ago she might have been right, but Craig had practically been living the life of a monk since he had met her. “I’m a reformed rake,” he argued. “Hamish, on the other hand, well, I don’t think he could ever change his ways.”

  Meriel glared at him for several seconds, her cold gaze drilling right through him. “You are wrong,” she said simply. “He is very different from what people think. He likes to flirt, so everyone—including his friends—believes him to be a womanizer. But I can see the person he really is—a kind, sincere, accepting, and surprisingly witty man.”

  It took everything Craig had not to flinch at her every word. She was talking about Hamish. Craig took a deep mental breath and forced calm into his thoughts. Meriel had known Hamish, what, a few weeks? He had known the m
an for many years. They had spent days and nights together, battled at each other’s side, and once competed for the affections of the same woman. Meriel had no idea the person Hamish really was—especially his faults, of which he had many. Once Meriel witnessed even a handful of them, this nonsense about her loving him would come to a quick end.

  Forcing his body to appear relaxed, Craig stretched out on the chair again and laced his fingers on his chest. “So what is the problem? From what I have seen, he likes and enjoys your company as well.”

  Meriel fell back into the chair and threw her head in her hands, biting the inside of her cheek hard. “That is the problem. Am I doomed to be only friends with every man I actually enjoy spending time with? Why doesn’t he find me attractive?” She looked up and shot him a penetrating stare. Her eyes were welling with tears. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Craig swallowed, searching for a way to answer, glad when she broke her teary gaze and returned to burying her face in her hands. He was not about to explain how he thought she was more than just attractive. She was mouth-droppingly beautiful. And if Hamish was not picking up on her interest, he was either a fool or his friend was really and truly caught in Wyenda’s nasty web.

  Clearing his throat, Craig said, “Nothing is wrong with you. It’s just that right now Hamish has eyes for someone else.”

  “I know he likes Wyenda and believes that she is misunderstood, but I met her and she is awful,” Meriel said through her fingers, muffling the sound.

  “I know that,” Craig groused. “I’ve even warned him about her, but believe me when I say Wyenda is something each man has to figure out for himself.”

  Meriel was thankful her face was still in her hands. She had been playing her role perfectly until a few minutes ago. There was a fine line between emotional and melodramatic, and she feared she might have gone past it. But with Craig’s last comment, the distress she had been feigning now felt quite real. Craig had once gone after Wyenda? Meriel knew she should not be surprised after seeing firsthand the woman’s stunning beauty, but to know that Craig had once been interested in the vile woman was more than a little annoying.