Highland Scoundrel (Campbell Trilogy #3)(83)
It wasn't just the Campbells’ eyes that fixed on him. He could feel the weight of the Gordon guardsmen's gazes as well. Duncan was a common enough name in the Highlands, but the captain had perhaps raised a connection in more than one mind. Even if they suspected, however, Duncan knew they would not defy their mistress.
Jeannie put her hand on the Campbell captain's arm, threw her head back slightly to reveal the long ivory column of her throat, and laughed. Duncan's gut clenched. The entrancing musical sound lulled like a siren's song. And with his stunned, wide eyes, the captain had the look of a man who'd been mired in darkness and then had a blazing torch thrust before him.
“Oh, Captain. If you are going to arrest every tall, black-haired, blue-eyed man in the Highlands you are going to have a very crowded dungeon.” She smiled, green eyes twinkling. “Why you are a tall, well-built man yourself.” She blushed coyly as if just realizing what she'd said. “Were your eyes blue instead of brilliant green, you might qualify.”
Duncan seethed as she took the captain's arm and gently steered him back to the table, leaning forward to give him a healthy view of the deep cleft between her br**sts.
Brilliant green? The ridiculous compliments worked. Although Duncan could feel the man's gaze on him a number of times throughout the long evening, the Campbell captain did not trouble him again. How could he, when Jeannie kept him utterly entranced. Duncan had never seen her play the coquette before and watching her do so now set his teeth on edge. That she did so only for his benefit did not ease the storm of dangerous emotions surging inside him.
The gratitude he felt was no match for the jealousy and desire gnashing around inside him like an angry lion. He had to hold himself back from marching over there, tossing her over his shoulder and taking her upstairs where they would settle this thing between them once and for all. Savage and barbarian, perhaps, but bloody well effective.
He raked his fingers through his hair and poured over his tankard. How the hell did she manage to do this to him? He reverted to every primitive instinct when it came to her.
There was one tense moment when Jeannie excused herself for bed, but the captain went off willingly to the stables when she suggested that he join her to break his fast in the morning. Duncan was saved, however, from enduring another long meal when the Campbells were called away early in the morning by rumors of a sighting of the Black Highlander near Inverness only the night before.
Despite the false rumor, Duncan knew the noose was tightening.
Thus, it was with some relief when late in the afternoon two days later the formidable towers of Castleswene appeared in the distance. The thick gray limestone walls seemed an oasis of stone against the brilliant sapphire seas sparkling beyond. Still, the edginess did not completely leave him, knowing he could be riding to his death. Jamie's reception could be far from cordial and his brother—unlike the Campbell captain—would not mistake his identity.
The wind intensified as darkness fell as they neared the coast. Castleswene was one of the oldest stone castles in Scotland, having been built over four hundred years before to guard the mouth of Loch Sween. What it lacked in modern conveniences, however, it made up for in durability and fortitude with ten foot thick walls. The original four buttressed wall structure had been added to over the years, including the addition of a squarish corner hall tower on the east and a round tower with adjacent barrack's on the west. The castle had been given over to the Campbells for their service and loyalty by Robert the Bruce after the castle was taken from the MacSweens during the Wars of Independence.
Duncan rode beside Leif and Conall, but kept his eye on Jeannie, half afraid that she might blow away. He knew how weary she must be after the long journey, but she kept her head down against the biting wind and did not break her pace until they rode through the gate and into the courtyard.
They'd said little to each other since the night he'd come so close to capture. He knew he should thank her—she had stood up for him after all and lied about his identity at great risk to herself—but every time he thought about the way she'd flirted with the captain … He wasn't ready to be reasonable.
She'd sent a rider ahead, alerting Jamie of their arrival and there was a crowd of men gathered at the bottom of the forestairs to greet them. By now, the sun was a distant memory and only the orange flicker of torchlight broke the black shroud of night. Mist rolled off the water like dragon's breath, filling the night air with black haze.
The man that stepped forward with an unmistakable air of authority was every bit as tall and heavily muscled as Duncan. His features were strong and blunt, his jaw square. Even in the darkness, Duncan could see the hard unyielding glint in his eye. It was a look of absolute command that did not brook defiance.
He shifted his head, giving Duncan a different angle of his profile, and the shadow of a memory hit him. Only then did he realize that the imposing fortress of a man before him was his “little” brother Jamie.
“Lady Gordon,” Jamie said, helping her down from her horse. “I was surprised to receive your message.”
“I hope we are not intruding,” Jeannie said.
Jamie shook his head. “You are always welcome. Your son is anxious to see you and my wife is looking forward to meeting you.” A wry smile turned his mouth, the first hint of emotion in the otherwise stony façade. “It was the timing that surprised me. We have only just arrived from Dunoon ourselves—my sister was recently married—and the winter storms have made the roads treacherous.”