Highlander's Prize by Mary Wine Page A

blessing of marriage. But here in the Highlands, we’re a bit more concerned with blood. Especially royal blood.”
    There were grins among his men. Faolan lifted his hand, and they parted. He shifted his attention to Broen.
    “I can see why ye are nae in a hurry to get inside and bask in front of me hearth. This York female has a heat I can feel all the way over here. It’s a wonder ye don’t have blisters on yer face, man.”
    “My hide is thicker than yers, it seems,” Broen stated arrogantly. “Seems a good thing I went to fetch her, since ye are wilting beneath her slicing tongue.”
    Faolan grunted. “Ye haven’t proved anything of the sort.”
    Broen reached over and snared her reins before she realized what he was doing. “I snatched the prize me uncle wanted, when there were plenty who claimed it was undoable.”
    Broen rode beneath the raised gate and into the inner yard. Faolan and his men followed. Clarrisa held tight to the bridle of her mare but turned to look back, feeling as if a huge stone were pressing down on her chest. She was off her mare before the men finished dismounting. Boys ran forward to take the animals, and her mare happily followed one to a stable.
    A firm hand clapped around her upper arm. “Do nae let Faolan ruffle yer feathers, lass,” Broen said. “I keep my word. We’ll pass the night here and no more.”
    She shot a hard look at him. “I cannot trust you.” But she hated how much she wanted to. It wasn’t logical, and she needed to be logical.
    Broen pulled her closer, his voice dipping so his words remained private. “Ye struck me as more intelligent than that, Clarrisa. There were others who would have happily taken ye from the king in order to please the earl, and no’ many of them would have left ye alive. Best ye trust me, for the time might come when I’ll need ye to follow me willingly.”
    His blue eyes were guarded now.
    “You have left me alive so you can take me to your overlord. It sounds as though you took the challenge in front of others. That is not so trust-inspiring.” She kept her voice low so her words wouldn’t drift.
    “I did, because it was the best thing for me clan and country.” The grip on her biceps became soothing. “And I would nae have done so if the threat yer blood poses were nae so great.”
    “So I cannot trust you, because I am only a threat to you.” There was regret in her tone, and she witnessed it in his eyes before he moved her forward toward the largest tower and its arched doorway.
    “I suppose that’s fair enough.” There was a gruffness to his voice she might easily have believed was remorse. It did not matter if it was. The brute was still tugging her toward Faolan Chisholms like a prize taken in battle. How he felt about her plight wouldn’t change her fate.
    “Come now, lass. Me hospitality is nae so wanting that ye should need to be pulled across the threshold.” Faolan appeared beside her and settled one of his arms around her waist. “Ye would nae want to hurt me feelings.”
    “Enough of this.” She surged forward, walking into the large hall that lay directly inside the doors. It was full of tables, most of which were occupied by Faolan’s clan members. Supper was being served, but everyone stopped eating to stare at her.
    “Broen MacNicols has come to pay us all a visit! Bring up a cask of cider,” Faolan announced.
    A cheer went up, and the meal began again. Faolan went down the center aisle, clearly the master of the tower. Men reached up, tugging on the corners of their knit bonnets, and women nodded as they continued to serve the tables. Broen received the same respect, which sent a tingle down her spine. She’d been overly bold with him, and it was clear there wasn’t a soul in sight who would refuse to follow his commands.
    She was at his mercy, but she still wasn’t ready to repent. Her fate would be the same no matter how she faced it. The only thing she held power over was how she went