The Highlander's Destiny (Highland Rogues #2) - Mary Wine Page 0,68

the moment, he was alone. The storm was raging just on the other side of the stone walls.

Yet, for part of him, that wasn’t close enough.

He pushed open a door, and the wind blew in. The door allowed him onto the curtain wall. The men on duty were huddled inside the gatehouse, which afforded him the opportunity to climb the last set of steps to the top of the tower.

Above him, the clouds were a swirling mass of blackness. Flashes of lightning were beginning to split them as thunder began to crack overhead. The wind was tearing at his kilt as drops of rain began to pelt him.

Faolan opened his arms wide to soak in the moment.

Half beast?

Aye.

He truly was.

*

“He’s taken ye as a confidant?” Gilmor asked incredulously.

Una smiled. “Once ye have the position ye crave, never forget that half of the clan is made up of women. And that many men will bend if it keeps their wives and mothers happy.”

Gilmor nodded. He was busy partaking of a plate of meat and cheese, which Una had brought with her. He suddenly frowned as he realized she’d plied him with the food, and he’d performed precisely as she’d anticipated.

A tingle touched his nape at being so very predictable.

“But will Faolan stay away from her bed?”

Una sat down on a bench and removed her linen cap. Noreen had insisted on those caps for the entire household in an effort to keep her husband from sampling the maids.

“He seems quite different from his brother, Malcolm,” Una remarked thoughtfully. “I suppose that is the blood of Faolan’s mother. She followed her heart. He appears to be much like her.”

Gilmor smiled. It was an unpleasant expression that made Una’s eyes widen.

“His mother died for allowing her heart to overrule everything else.”

*

Gilmor left with a giant smirk on his lips.

Una watched him go, a sensation of dread beginning to grow in her belly. Ambition was to men what love was to women. Gilmor might claim he’d happily stay a captain, but for many men, a sampling of power only whet their appetite for more.

She sighed. For there was naught to do. Blood was blood. Her fortune was shackled firmly to Gilmor. He was not wrong when he’d said her portion was less now that he was no longer a captain.

It was true.

Orla gave her the harder tasks now that the Head-of-House didn’t fear one of the laird’s captains hearing of how hard she toiled. Fewer of the maids were willing to help her finish her tasks now that there wasn’t as much to gain from her good favor. The small chamber she sat in might even be taken from her at any time when the Head-of-House needed it for someone with more influence.

Such was life.

And such was the reason she’d help Gilmor with his plan, for there was nothing else to do but give up hope.

*

Thunder woke Cora.

It boomed above her head. Lightning split the darkness wide open a moment later. It illuminated the empty place beside her.

She sat for a long moment before the rain began to plummet the side of the tower. She heard it hitting the closed window shutters. The wind was whipping the water through the air. More thunder filled the night.

Cora got up, the energy of the storm making it impossible to stay in bed.

Ye met Faolan on a night like this…

She had, and she suddenly wanted to see the wildness of the storm as well as hear it. Cora crossed the floor to the side of the tower that the wind wasn’t hitting. She worked the latch and opened the shutters inward.

Her reward was a view of the next bolt of lightning. It crackled across the mass of swollen clouds. The flash was bright and so vivid, it felt like it warmed the tip of her nose. A fine spray of water was making its way into her face as the wind came in the open shutters and tugged at her chemise.

Thunder boomed again, making her laugh. Something about the pure strength of the storm amused her. It seemed to touch that thing inside her that longed for complete freedom.

When the lightning came again, she was ready. Only this time, she gasped, for it illuminated Faolan.

Like the first time ye saw him…

The tower the laird’s chamber was in was close to hers. Faolan was on top of it, his arms stretched out wide, and his face tipped upwards. His kilt was flapping in the wind as the storm pelted